Death (or Life) by Definition
For as long as I could even try to remember my mom has always instructed me to make the mantra of my life that my steps be ordered along the path God set out for me. And I did ascribe to that, but with the silent stipulation that God’s plan and my own be carbon copies. How presumptuous. As events would prove, time and time again, God and I often don’t agree – apparently, I’m not as omniscient as He.
In the more recent reality of my Cornell day-to-day, it seems that a similar pattern of presumption has emerged. I credit my sanity to meticulously planning and listing everything I need to get done in a given time frame. If I can define it and time it myself, I can’t spin out of control. That modus operandi works for school assignments, but it’s painfully detrimental to my sense of self when applied to the broader facts of life. As of today, I still haven’t managed to correctly chart out the constellation of my life. Hard to believe.
So, I think it’s safe to say that I’m a bit rigid. I’ve had to accept that in at least a vague way because I can’t deny that that rigidity causes a breakdown or two every few weeks. Last night when I turned to my boyfriend to help me determine my greatest weaknesses to share in an upcoming interview he immediately spurted out “you define success too narrowly.”
Apparently, there’s no greater mirror to peer into than the honest opinions of those you spend the most time with. Life for me has at times been a hell storm because of how narrowly I defined and then meticulously followed the scheme for my success. The right college, the right relationship, the right job – all defined within an inch of their lives. The damning part though (at least for the credibility of my omniscience) is that I don’t attend the college I’d always planned to, I tried and failed at several relationships because I was desperate to make myself and those men fit into my idea of what a relationship was, and I more likely than not won’t be employed by the firms I’d set out to woo earlier this school year. Literally, none of these details, and many more unmentioned ones, of my perfectly prescribed life panned out. Somehow, I’ve still managed to achieve the big picture, though. I attend a school that does far more for me personally and academically than the collegiate dream school of my former youth could have, I’m dating the best friend I’ve ever known, and even though I still don’t have a job for this summer I’m pretty sure I’m closer to determining what I love, which happens to be far from how I defined my career path back in August.
I can sincerely say that I’m far happier than I would’ve ever been had failures and setbacks not necessitated that I re-evaluate my plan. Clearly, I don’t know what’s best for me, but I’m getting better at recognizing when holding on is not only futile, but also detrimental, and when adaptation is not only easier, but also liberating. I’m getting there, trying to at least, because it’s still hard for me to not adhere to a life plan that has about twenty boxes to check for each life-stage, so that I can make sure I’m still making time on whatever journey I’m on. It still makes me feel a little too unmoored, but it’s the proven method for happiness in my life by way of re-defined success. So it looks like I’ll be sticking with it. Mark this as the newest iteration of the Nadia Cultural Revolution.
