by Yi Zhang
Most people do a lot of agonizing over what they want to do with their life. For me, it was – did I really want to go into the sciences? Could I really be content with memorizing microscopic drivel that really had no relevance to my life?
Interest isn’t just there. It takes time for it to brew and simmer. Approaching something with utter abomination will, of course, not lead to interest. However, the development of interest does not arise so perfectly and linearly that you begin a passionate artist and end a passionate artist. Leonardo da Vinci hated what his mother made him do… until, well, he began to enjoy what he was doing.
A person’s like or dislike of something, someone, anything really – is extremely prone to change. It is dynamic, never quite a constant stream of undying love or grotesque hate.
Most people, likewise, are deluded into thinking that they are capable of the kind of frenzied passion that is advertised in the lives of successful people. The fact of the matter is that this incessant deluge of passion simply does not exist. There are moments in a scientist’s life when he is bored to desperation by the conundrum he must solve. There are moments in a doctor’s life when he is not fervently motivated by the concept of saving a person’s life, and is instead really just trying to get through a day.
This truth, of course, is not written in the propaganda of motivational material out there to saturate our minds with this concept of immaculate and relentless passion. This is the biggest lie that guidance counselors and parents tell us to do. From grade nine to graduation, we will probably have been bombarded at least some hundreds of times the phrase “follow your heart”.
Everyone has an idealized vision of what they really want to do with their lives. This vision is often unreachable because it is so absolutely perfect. What attracts people is at foremost the fantasized amalgam of ideas they associate with this unattainable vision. Are people attracted as a result an intrinsic desire to do these things, or the wildly romantic perfect future they’ve made for themselves?
Why not, if not appreciate, at least engage with what you are doing with your life? There is music to be heard, places to be appreciated, wherever you go. Must I love something to do it? Not necessarily. There are silver linings to be found for every major chosen out of apathy, for every sloppily written essay to meet a course requirement. As a society, we need to laud the people who fall in love with the things to do, even from a place of unlikelihood and hardship. Passion isn’t borne out of nothing, it’s borne out of failure and displeasure with something just as it is borne out of success and enjoyment.