PC: (jokingly) Wow, you guys aren't in your rooms working. Did you go for lectures today?
Joe: Nope!
PC: (smiles) Enjoy it while you can. It doesn't last...
From all the hype about Prince Charles visiting Corpus that Monday afternoon, it was this exchange which stuck to my thoughts the most.
That was 8 days ago. Lent term is now over, and it's already half a week into the break. That means I've been in the UK for about 6 months now. Time comes, and it goes. And once gone, it's forever gone.
40 days ago, I turned 21. Since it is often held to be the turning point to "adulthood," many friends understandably asked me what it felt like to be that age. I didn't know what to say. Apart from being able to vote back home (and legally purchase alcohol in the US), there wasn't much that changed for me when I woke up on Feb 11. Interestingly, it tended to be those younger than me who asked that question - I suppose the others knew from experience that there wasn't really anything magical about turning 21.
Having said that, the many questions got me thinking, and two thoughts have come up. Firstly, it has hit me that I am "grown up". The "adult" label attached to this age, compounded by the fact that I'm living on my own 6000 miles away from home, making my own decisions, has made me feel like I've stepped out into the "big bad world". You know, when you're a kid you think you'll never actually grow up. You live in your little bubble, and never really make any major decisions other than what to do with your RM 1 in the canteen or whether or not you want to invite that acquaintance to your birthday party. Over the years, you g r a d u a l l y become more independent, but even then, you remain in the "kid" mindset because you never really noticed the change - like when Wile e Coyote realises that he's run off a cliff, with no support underneath.
What this epiphany has given me is a sense of responsibility, in that I am now to account for my decisions and their consequences. Apart from "the viccisitudes of life", I can basically choose to set the course of my life. It's an awesome feeling, both fantastic and terrifying. Almost like holding a helpless babe in your arms, except that that person is yourself.
And this leads to the second thought that has been on my mind, concisely articulated by the Crown Prince: it doesn't last. This life with which I may write a story is a precious one, only to be lived once. Unlike Wile e Coyote's, my life would not faithfully reappear in a next episode to have another go at catching RoadRunner. The "milk" spilt with each droplet of time cannot be retrieved, but must be accommodated to fit into the wider painting. And the drip rate is pretty high.
So to all who've asked, that's what it feels to be 21. To feel like an individual, autonomous and therefore responsible, whilst realising that this whole experience is but a breath, a momentary vapour. Having that in mind, I want to make my next few (possibly 50/60?) years worthwhile. I would differ with Prince Charles' quote in that I'd say life is to be worthwhile, rather than merely enjoyed, because the former means indicates abundant living both internally (for myself) and externally (the impact I make), whereas the latter only gives one side of the coin.
By now, you may have noticed an apparent parallel between my thoughts and "Sinatra-ism", captured aptly in Bon Jovi's It's My Life. It's a fantastic song (I think) in all respects, except in a few bits in its lyrics, which is where my philosophy departs from it. Firstly, the underlying implication is an ignorance (or ingnoring) that the "right" to freedom comes with the corresponding "responsibility" for the consequences of one's choices - against a standard other than one's own. Secondly, it assumes that "my way", or one's own choices/ standards, are the best for them. But I don't think what I want is necessarily what's best for me. In fact, I don't even know what I want most of the time.
But where does that then leave me? Well, I go back to my favourite textual source of inspiration (textual, because the author himself is even better) and find myself a promise:
The condition: delight yourself in him -- i.e. enjoy Jesus (think enjoy Coca Cola)
The promise: No, it doesn't mean there'll be a cadillac in your porch tomorrow morning. It means he will plant in your clueless, yet innately wild and adventurous heart a worthwhile dream, which he'll then help you strive for
It's a beautiful cycle. For me, that works better than Frankie's "I did it my way", since I can't even trust my own judgment.
And thus I enter the big bad world.
Hello, I'm Jinho. I'm making this worthwhile while I can. It doesn't last.
Joe: Nope!
PC: (smiles) Enjoy it while you can. It doesn't last...
 |
That was 8 days ago. Lent term is now over, and it's already half a week into the break. That means I've been in the UK for about 6 months now. Time comes, and it goes. And once gone, it's forever gone.
40 days ago, I turned 21. Since it is often held to be the turning point to "adulthood," many friends understandably asked me what it felt like to be that age. I didn't know what to say. Apart from being able to vote back home (and legally purchase alcohol in the US), there wasn't much that changed for me when I woke up on Feb 11. Interestingly, it tended to be those younger than me who asked that question - I suppose the others knew from experience that there wasn't really anything magical about turning 21.
Having said that, the many questions got me thinking, and two thoughts have come up. Firstly, it has hit me that I am "grown up". The "adult" label attached to this age, compounded by the fact that I'm living on my own 6000 miles away from home, making my own decisions, has made me feel like I've stepped out into the "big bad world". You know, when you're a kid you think you'll never actually grow up. You live in your little bubble, and never really make any major decisions other than what to do with your RM 1 in the canteen or whether or not you want to invite that acquaintance to your birthday party. Over the years, you g r a d u a l l y become more independent, but even then, you remain in the "kid" mindset because you never really noticed the change - like when Wile e Coyote realises that he's run off a cliff, with no support underneath.
 |
| Of course, the analogy is limited: it's true to the extent that you realise that you haven't got support to lean on like before, but unlike cartoon physics, this realisation is not necessarily disastrous. |
What this epiphany has given me is a sense of responsibility, in that I am now to account for my decisions and their consequences. Apart from "the viccisitudes of life", I can basically choose to set the course of my life. It's an awesome feeling, both fantastic and terrifying. Almost like holding a helpless babe in your arms, except that that person is yourself.
And this leads to the second thought that has been on my mind, concisely articulated by the Crown Prince: it doesn't last. This life with which I may write a story is a precious one, only to be lived once. Unlike Wile e Coyote's, my life would not faithfully reappear in a next episode to have another go at catching RoadRunner. The "milk" spilt with each droplet of time cannot be retrieved, but must be accommodated to fit into the wider painting. And the drip rate is pretty high.
So to all who've asked, that's what it feels to be 21. To feel like an individual, autonomous and therefore responsible, whilst realising that this whole experience is but a breath, a momentary vapour. Having that in mind, I want to make my next few (possibly 50/60?) years worthwhile. I would differ with Prince Charles' quote in that I'd say life is to be worthwhile, rather than merely enjoyed, because the former means indicates abundant living both internally (for myself) and externally (the impact I make), whereas the latter only gives one side of the coin.
By now, you may have noticed an apparent parallel between my thoughts and "Sinatra-ism", captured aptly in Bon Jovi's It's My Life. It's a fantastic song (I think) in all respects, except in a few bits in its lyrics, which is where my philosophy departs from it. Firstly, the underlying implication is an ignorance (or ingnoring) that the "right" to freedom comes with the corresponding "responsibility" for the consequences of one's choices - against a standard other than one's own. Secondly, it assumes that "my way", or one's own choices/ standards, are the best for them. But I don't think what I want is necessarily what's best for me. In fact, I don't even know what I want most of the time.
But where does that then leave me? Well, I go back to my favourite textual source of inspiration (textual, because the author himself is even better) and find myself a promise:
Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart. Psam 37:4Read it.
The condition: delight yourself in him -- i.e. enjoy Jesus (think enjoy Coca Cola)
The promise: No, it doesn't mean there'll be a cadillac in your porch tomorrow morning. It means he will plant in your clueless, yet innately wild and adventurous heart a worthwhile dream, which he'll then help you strive for
It's a beautiful cycle. For me, that works better than Frankie's "I did it my way", since I can't even trust my own judgment.
And thus I enter the big bad world.
Hello, I'm Jinho. I'm making this worthwhile while I can. It doesn't last.
March 23, 2011 2:49 AM
good perspectiv. =)
May 25, 2011 2:32 PM
It depends on the person I guess. It was a big deal going from 16 to 17 for me. But if you've got to 20, 21 should be much!
July 20, 2011 11:55 AM
the depth of your thoughts is what makes your blog a good read :)