Unpremeditated musings
Just a year ago, I was churning out LJ posts almost daily. Yet when I go back and read through those short and often disjointed narratives, I gain no insights into who I was or what I felt at the time. LiveJournal has never exactly been a literary outlet for me, but I've recently found that writing down my thoughts can reduce the sense of being overwhelmed that so often accompanies the transition to college.
(It also gives me an excuse for being on LiveJournal at 12:45 am, when I should be studying for my lab quiz and finishing my Chinese homework.)
In the past several weeks, I've been having somewhat of an "identity crisis." It's not the teenage identity crisis stereotypically depicted in the movies, though; I've simply been reevaluating my goals, my abilities, and some of my core values. I entered college as a premed student expecting to work hard in classes and perhaps attend a social event here and there. To that end, I also expected that I would develop a bit of an inferiority complex when I encountered students who performed better than me in class yet were able to maintain highly productive lives outside of school. It would be accurate to say that my expectations were fairly misleading.
That's not to say that I've stopped caring about studying. But I have stopped caring about comparing myself to others, which is something I often did in high school without consciously admitting it. Now the questions I ask myself, though probably still not the most important in the long run, are much more meaningful than, "Am I doing better than that guy?" I've listed some of those questions below and attempted to answer them to the best of my knowledge and ability.
"What do I want to do with my life?"
For over ten years, I thought I wanted to be a medical doctor. This aspiration arose out of a sincere desire to help other people, but I realize now that the medical field is not where my true interests lie. (I'll be honest: I can't stand biology as a subject of academic study.) I've always had a passion for figuring out how things work, and especially about the almost mystical quality that is inherent to the study of the universe. So, despite the fact that most of the people I knew growing up will be stunned that I would give up on medicine, despite the fact that I'll be less financially stable (at least temporarily), and despite the fact that I'm mediocre at physics, research astronomy has become the most likely career choice in my foreseeable future. Then again, I am only a freshman. Interests change, and my interests are no exception.
"What do I want to remember about my college experience?"
I'm still not sure about this question, but I definitely know that I don't want to remember being stuck in my room all day studying for midterms. The opportunities open to me, in everything from cultural groups to community service to social justice to athletic activities, are incredible, and not taking advantage of those opportunities would be a shame, to say the least. High school was a time of fleeting interests and random hobbies, but I feel that the things I do in college have a more significant effect both on me and on the world around me. Thus, I've been trying to participate in activities that are meaningful, in the sense that they'll still be important and memorable to me and hopefully many others in future years. Consequently, my life has become that much more hectic. I suppose I wouldn't be at Yale if I couldn't flourish under pressure, though.
Hmm. I have more questions, but it's late and my Mondays are bad enough without sleep deprivation to contribute to the suffering. To be continued.
(It also gives me an excuse for being on LiveJournal at 12:45 am, when I should be studying for my lab quiz and finishing my Chinese homework.)
In the past several weeks, I've been having somewhat of an "identity crisis." It's not the teenage identity crisis stereotypically depicted in the movies, though; I've simply been reevaluating my goals, my abilities, and some of my core values. I entered college as a premed student expecting to work hard in classes and perhaps attend a social event here and there. To that end, I also expected that I would develop a bit of an inferiority complex when I encountered students who performed better than me in class yet were able to maintain highly productive lives outside of school. It would be accurate to say that my expectations were fairly misleading.
That's not to say that I've stopped caring about studying. But I have stopped caring about comparing myself to others, which is something I often did in high school without consciously admitting it. Now the questions I ask myself, though probably still not the most important in the long run, are much more meaningful than, "Am I doing better than that guy?" I've listed some of those questions below and attempted to answer them to the best of my knowledge and ability.
"What do I want to do with my life?"
For over ten years, I thought I wanted to be a medical doctor. This aspiration arose out of a sincere desire to help other people, but I realize now that the medical field is not where my true interests lie. (I'll be honest: I can't stand biology as a subject of academic study.) I've always had a passion for figuring out how things work, and especially about the almost mystical quality that is inherent to the study of the universe. So, despite the fact that most of the people I knew growing up will be stunned that I would give up on medicine, despite the fact that I'll be less financially stable (at least temporarily), and despite the fact that I'm mediocre at physics, research astronomy has become the most likely career choice in my foreseeable future. Then again, I am only a freshman. Interests change, and my interests are no exception.
"What do I want to remember about my college experience?"
I'm still not sure about this question, but I definitely know that I don't want to remember being stuck in my room all day studying for midterms. The opportunities open to me, in everything from cultural groups to community service to social justice to athletic activities, are incredible, and not taking advantage of those opportunities would be a shame, to say the least. High school was a time of fleeting interests and random hobbies, but I feel that the things I do in college have a more significant effect both on me and on the world around me. Thus, I've been trying to participate in activities that are meaningful, in the sense that they'll still be important and memorable to me and hopefully many others in future years. Consequently, my life has become that much more hectic. I suppose I wouldn't be at Yale if I couldn't flourish under pressure, though.
Hmm. I have more questions, but it's late and my Mondays are bad enough without sleep deprivation to contribute to the suffering. To be continued.