Reflection is a weird thing. Oftentimes, I go by my day to day life forgetting about the small things that have turned me into my present self. I'm so caught up in doing that I forget how to breathe. This is all coming up because a friend of mine asked me if I had time to talk to someone who was going into JVC next year. I said sure without realizing something: I still don't know how to articulate what last year means in light of who I am right now. I haven't really tried out of fear. My last blog post was a reflection on a full year as that year was ending. This? Well, it's me finally trying to come to grips with how horribly I've failed (or I thought I was a failure...)To be honest, I've been struggling to write this for months now. The first draft of this post was written back in September. I sat on it and deleted it. Mainly because I couldn't admit one thing. With all my bravado and faith in how much that JVC year meant to me, all my hubris and ego regarding how great I am with these thoughts about love, compassion, and maturity...nothing has changed (or maybe everything has...)
I still believe that life is about the tension between the fantasy of our best selves and the nightmare of our worst selves. The past few months one side of that tension won out and it wasn't pretty. I fell into the trap of living a life marked by goal posts again. This time, it came in the form of exams every three weeks. Then the benchmark became simply to pass. I was angry and bitter at how poorly I was doing. I figuratively (I hate how Mirriam-Webster adopted a definition of literally as virtually, but I digress) was slapped in the face and grew doubtful. Maybe I'm not cut out for my dream. How do I react when I start seeing failing scores show up on my exams? I was the kid that cried in 3rd grade cause I failed a quiz and am still bitter over a C I got in middle school. Initially, I grew angry and motivated. I started "working harder" out of spite. Well, nothing changed. If anything, it got worse. Of course, my next response was to become detached, ambivalent, and in denial. I hid from everything and became depressed. I like to call it the med school existential angst.It was in those moments that I lost track of what last year taught me about doing things out love for what? Because I hit a few roadblocks? I have a friend, Amelia, who has been posting motivational quotes the past few weeks about journeys and persevering. That got me really thinking about my journey last year.
Last year wasn't just a journey about doing good things. I labeled last year as the year I learned to care or the year I learned to love or the year I met some really cool people or the year I lived in Detroit or the year I worked in a free-clinic or the year my heart was broken. But, those are just labels to make the reality digestible in a quick conversation: phrases that I throw out to give definition to what is undefinable. In reality, last year was just part of this long journey of life.
It doesn't hold any more meaning than the other years of my life because all of the other years hold meanings in and of themselves. I can say last year was about all the pithy labels I liked to throw out, but couldn't I saw the same about the year I left the Philippines, or the year I had my first girlfriend, or the year my father passed away, or the year I applied to medical school, or the year I started medical school?
Comparisons between years as saying one was better than the other doesn't really hold true when you realize that you have to keep re-learning the same freaking lessons over and over again. They just take different forms. I mean let's be honest the teen angst over dating gave way to college angst of what do I want my future to look like to social justice angst of how do I save the world to med school angst of am I not smart enough. It's the same freaking thing over and over and over: self-doubt, self-pity, and self-loathing.
I fell into the trap detaching the doing from real values. It's the same way of how I fell into the trap of achieving to spite the memory of my father, of dating to pass the time and loneliness, and of going after award after award to validate myself.
A friend had to remind me that I should be doing things for myself; I'd like to add that I should be doing things for myself for the right reasons. Since August, I really haven't. I forgot or chose to ignore everything I learned from being an angsty teenager to an angsty college student to an angsty Jesuit Volunteer because I hit a few roadblocks. Or maybe I forgot because that's just life.
So what do I tell this guy what last year was about? Well, I would probably give him the usual laundry list of labels because all those labels hold meaning, but in the end I'll be honest with him too. Last year isn't just about last year because nothing we do is in a vacuum. In reflecting who I am now, even who I was since JVC ended, I realize last year wasn't about last year. I haven't lived up to any of the hopes I had, but that's ok. It was another year teaching me the same lessons, but in different forms. Every new day is a summation of every day that came before it. The same problems will come up and so will the same lessons; I will never be a perfect finished product no matter how much I want last year to have been a catalyst to make me a better person.
As neutral and as truthful as I can put it: last year, in light of every other year and in light of who I am now, wasn't just about labels. It was about living.
