Sharon Liao
What Is My Higher Purpose?
When death comes, realizations
surface, too. Recently and all too painfully, the death of yet another
classmate has reminded me of one such principle that I first realized with the
death of my grandmother in the 2003. At that point in time, I began to question
the way I was living my life. Her death right before junior year, a year in
which many people stressed out excessively about grades, caused me to wonder,
“Isn’t there more to life than this?” As Martin Luther King, Jr., said, “If a
man hasn’t discovered something that he will die for, he isn’t fit to live.”[1]
What am I willing to die for? At the funeral and the memorial service a couple
months later, I heard numerous stories about the kind things my grandmother had
done for other people. I saw the importance of finding out what was truly
meaningful in life. In short, I found that we should live our lives according
to how we would like to be remembered.
After reflecting upon this discovery, I struggled to translate the thought into reality. I do not want to live an empty life. However, the abstract nature of this quest for a fulfilling life led to the problem of how to achieve my goals. The means of realizing my idea of a worthy existence will be the basis of what I decide to do with my life. I, like Stephen Daedalus, want “[t]o discover the mode of life…whereby [my] spirit [can] express itself in unfettered freedom.”[2] Many well-meaning people have given me advice about occupations. What they do not realize is that my purpose in life, and in some way, my career, are some things I need to find for myself. I have thought long and hard about this, and, basically, I have determined that writing this paper will take a lot more effort than I thought it would. This assignment really forces me to reconsider my plans for the future, and I must admit, though beneficial, this process does stress me out. It scares me to think that in a few years I will graduate from college and either attend graduate school or find a job. People inevitably ask me what I want to do when I grow up, and my inability to answer this question right off the top of my head really stresses me out, especially when those around me are all very driven and enthusiastic about something they know they want to pursue. What about me? Am I doomed to indecisiveness? Or is my purpose to find my purpose?
Throughout my life, I have enjoyed
helping other people understand things. Because of this, I considered an
occupation in education. Education really appeals to me because it will give me
a chance to not only increase students’ knowledge about the world around them
but also influence them and the way they perceive things. I know that this can
come across as being very idealistic, and I have made my peace with the fact
that I will not necessarily be able to reach everyone. I have seen peers who
just do not care about school. I have had teachers who are unenthusiastic about
the things they are teaching. On the other hand, I have had wonderful teachers
who truly care about not only the curriculum but also their students. These
teachers have the power to forge a connection with students, allowing the
teacher to have more influence in the students’ lives. I think this is what
appeals to me most. The fact that I could potentially encourage the development
of knowledge as well as compassion in others really intrigues me.
After
my grandmother’s death, letters and phone calls poured in, consoling my family
and letting us know we were not alone in our grief. The number of people my
grandmother had touched in her life simply amazed me. Wherever she went, she
found someone to help. I remember that when she visited my family, she would
figure out the trash pickup schedule and stand by the door with candy or drinks
to give to the workers. At the time, I thought this was kind of ridiculous, but
now that I think about it, it was her way of showing her appreciation for these
people who pick up trash and are generally not thought of by others and are
taken for granted. She also had a specific group of people, related by blood or
not, whom she would have to see when she visited. I never fully understood how
much this impacted those people’s lives. I just assumed she had nothing else to
do, so she would go out to see other people. I saw these things with my own
eyes, but at the funeral and memorial service later that year, I heard things I
will always remember.
My
grandmother taught at an elementary school in
In high school, when I first
seriously thought about teaching as a career and as a means of reaching out to
others, I got a lot of negative feedback from friends and relatives. My
relatives argued with me, telling me that I should not “waste” my intelligence
on teaching but that I should pursue a career in the medical field. Some of my
peers just looked at me like I was crazy. It really hurt me a lot to think that
people looked down on my choice. I had another friend who was also thinking of
teaching, and we would talk to each other in order to alleviate these outside
pressures. We would gripe to each other about who had recently made fun of our
prospective career paths and try to validate ourselves and our goals to each
other. I guess it was our own support group: us against everyone else. I
understood, sort of, why these people who cared about me would not support my
decision. They were being practical. Teachers do not make much money. Other
philanthropic and admirable occupations offered much better salaries. I
realized that being a doctor allowed one to help a lot of people, too, and that
being a lawyer also enabled one to benefit others. What I wanted to do, and
what I still want to do, is reach people on a deeper level. I want to help them
before they need to be helped, if that makes sense. I want to create a sense of
self-worth and ideals in others so that they might strive to be better people. Some
may say I am being idealistic, but is that so wrong? In the words of the Dalai
Lama, “Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help
them, at least don’t hurt them.”[4] I
am not as idealistic as Jude, who sees Christminster, his destination, as “a
city of light” where “the tree of knowledge grows.”[5] Jude’s
idealism blinds him to the realities of the world in which he lives, causing
his inability to function within society. I know there are worldly limitations,
but that does not mean I cannot hope to progress a little bit.
I think, however, that the most important thing is to find a purpose and live according to that purpose. As one of my close friends articulated so well, “It is a mistake to say a realist cannot be an idealist. A realist is a merely a person who sees the world as it is with full acceptance. An idealist is one that understands that faith can improve a life that must reside in the world of a realist. It is the faith in change, in progress, in improvement, in momentum.”[6] I am not hoping to change the world with a wave of my hand. I do not claim that I can eradicate all suffering within my lifetime. I just want the world to be a better place because of me in some small way. This may sound egotistical, but I think of it as a worthy goal. If we all tried to make a positive difference with our lives, would the world not be vastly improved? Therefore, my vision is one of connection and encouragement. I believe there is good in everyone, and my goal is to help develop these positive characteristics in people. I want to show them that we are all capable of so much while at the same time broadening their knowledge of “that which is greater than the ego.”[7] Perhaps knowledge is not the right word. What I really mean is understanding. I want to teach these children that they need to understand themselves and their potential while also seeing the same things in others.
Without compassion and understanding, there can be no peace. Tolerance is not enough. Ignorance is not a valid excuse. Sometimes, I look around and wonder why there is so much death and destruction in the world. I question how people can go on killing each other. Is war really necessary? Is violence the only answer? Based on observations of the world and historical facts, the answer seems to be “yes,” but I do not believe this. I cannot. In this, I am an example of what my friend tried to describe. I am realistic; I know the facts and the statistics. At the same time, I choose to believe that this can be changed. History does not have to repeat itself. I believe in the possibility that people will rise above violence as a means to solve problems. In other words, I want to spread peace by spreading compassion and understanding. Stereotypes and hatred flourish where misunderstandings exist; misunderstandings exist because people sometimes find it easier to function on assumptions instead of taking the time to figure out why people do or say the things they do. By promoting mediation in conflicts, perhaps I can instill in others the sense that dialogue is usually just as effective as fighting to solve problems, if not more so. By recognizing their own value, being able to empathize with others, and knowing how to talk things out, people can find peace more easily, and in this way, they can spread peace to the people they know. Suddenly, changing the world does not seem like such a daunting task. I guess you could say that my plans for now could be summarized by this phrase: changing the world one person at a time.
There are my abstract plans, but they do not answer some questions that are more concrete. Who am I? Where am I going? What am I trying to accomplish? Why? These are the most troubling questions, especially the why.
When we signed up for this World Literature class, one of the mottos of the class was, “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!”[8] What if I have no idea where I am going? What if I do not belong where I go? Sometimes, I think I think too much. If I could just have faith in myself and others around me, I would probably be a lot less stressed sometimes.
Based on my ideals, where am I now?
How far along the path have I progressed? Am I even on the right path? I cannot
answer this question with complete confidence. The truth is I do not know where
exactly I stand. Using Ram Dass’s method of standing outside myself or even
further removed, I still have a hard time coming up with an objective view of
myself. I see a college student who wants to find out just where she fits in
socially and academically. The frequency with which people ask, “What’s your
major?” throws her off because while many others can say, “Plan II/Pre-Med” or
“Plan II/Biology,” she can only say, “Plan II” and wait for the look of
confusion to cross the face of the questioner. After going through a lengthy
explanation of what Plan II is, she almost always faces the same question: So
what’s your major? She sighs inwardly while clarifying that Plan II is, in
fact, a major. The predictable sequence of questions progresses to the question
of what she will do with a Plan II degree. This is where she hits a snag. There
is no longer a set answer that she can repeat. There is no guideline, no
objective answer. She always struggles, shrugs, and says she does not yet know.
She smiles and states that she still has time to figure it out, trying to
convince not only the other person but also herself. She does not know why she
usually cannot readily admit that she wants to become a teacher. Somehow, she
feels that there is a sense of shame attached to the profession. This makes no
sense to her because, clearly, there are so many good things that can be said
about educators. All this uncertainty leads to anxiety, which makes her
question her decision and her vision. Perhaps the vision is not the problem.
There are just too many ways to live up to her ideal of helping others and
cultivating compassion and peace. Which will she choose? How will she choose?
Will she stick to her choice or be swayed by the wishes of others? As Jane Eyre
discovers in her dilemma about whether or not to accompany St. John to India, “I
daily wished more to please him: but to do so, I felt daily more and more that
I must disown half my nature, stifle half my faculties, wrest my tastes from
their original bent, force myself to the adoption of pursuits for which I had
no natural vocation.”[9]
Sometimes, I sit here and wonder why the world can't be a better place. Why is it that people you think you know are not who you thought they were? How do people turn out so bad? Why? In my more cynical and bitter moments, I wonder, “And why is it always the good people who have to suffer? Why? I don't know how much more of this I can take.” When I found out my aunt’s cancer continued to spread, I wrote, “It seems so arbitrary and unfair. It's as though life is playing with my feelings. Lifting me up, getting me to hope, only to shoot me/my hopes down. Still I hope. Still I believe that everything will turn out alright. While there's life, there's hope. Though life often wants you to think there isn't, I think there is. How else can I live? I can’t not hope. That would somehow be denying the chance for improvement in the world and people. That would be denying the chance for recovery. So I hope and pray that this time, it will not end the same way, that this time will be different.”
This
is yet another reminder of the fragility of human life, how precious it is, and
how short it can be. It is very humbling, really. So we must make the most of
what we have because that is all we can do. We have to live now because the
present is all we have. There are no guarantees in life. So live life to the
fullest. Cherish every moment and the people in your life. Slow down, and look
around. Enjoy it. Do not get caught up in the small things. There is so much
more to life. As Willie's youth pastor said, “I
don't want to die a life unlived.”
My realistic idealism or idealistic realism, whichever way you want to look at it, does not only apply to my goals and my vision. It also pertains to my perspectives on life in general. There are few certainties in life, death being one of them. Most decisions entail taking risks. Playing it safe only gets you so far; living on the edge too much is not for me, either. I had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that we do not have much, if any, control over many of the things that happen in our lives. Sometimes, it is useless to ask why something has happened because there is no easy answer.
I am not so idealistic as to say
abstractly that money is bad and unimportant. We live in a very materialistic
culture. There is no denying that fact. However, I think there is a point at
which that becomes a negative quality. When everything is about money, when
money is the only thing important to someone, that person loses a little bit of
his humanity. What is money? Objectively, it is a thin rectangular piece of
paper, a small, flat, circular bit of metal. It has worth only because our
government says it has worth and enough other people and nations recognize it
as such. In today’s society, we cannot survive without money. Everything is
based on a money economy; living under these conditions, we have to follow the
system in some ways. The market does not function on a bartering basis anymore,
nor do many people grow their own food. Therefore, I must concede that, yes,
money is important and, to some degree, necessary, but I just as strongly
believe that money is not everything. There is much more to life than how much
money someone has. I would like to have enough money to live comfortably and
not have to worry about not being able to make ends meet, but I do not see any
reason for having billions of dollars and hoarding it all.
When I was younger, I was less cynical and much more idealistic. I brought up the point that people were too materialistic and concerned with wealth, and my father countered by asking me about the wealthy people who did charitable things with their money. Basically, he told me that I have no right to judge others and that there are many different ways for people to do good deeds. People who have time dedicate their time; people who have money donate their money; people who pray offer to pray for others.
I realize that money is important. That is the reality. But are not people real, too? Is interaction with people not an important part of human existence? Is that not what makes life special? As Charles discovers in Fowles’s The French Lieutenant’s Woman, “The ultimate hell was infinite and empty space.”[10] You can always get money, but time does not work that way. As the old Chinese adage goes, “Qian jin nan mai cuen guang yin.” (Even a thousand pieces of gold cannot buy you a second of time.) Everything is constantly in flux. Impermanence, as Buddhism teaches, is a true fact of life, but that does not mean it does not hurt. I have not yet transcended my human limitations. I want to hold on. I do not want people I care about to get hurt. I do not want them to suffer. These are samplings of my reactions to the deaths and cancer diagnoses of family members and friends. Looking objectively at them, I realized, “And it’s all filled with “I.” This perhaps is the problem.” I do not want to miss the forest for the trees, but lately there has been so much pain all around that I do not know what to do with it. Someone I was talking to was right when he said, “Why don’t we just enjoy what we have? There are more than enough things to worry about without all this philosophical musing.” Ram Dass offers a different perspective. He wrote, “It would be so much easier if we weren’t in the presence of all this suffering. But then again, wasn’t it the suffering and our reactions to it that we set out to observe in the first place? So we have to find tranquility even in the midst of trauma.”[11]
As with the money issue, another system we have to work with because of society’s structure is the education system. Learning is not the problem; the way the education system is set up sometimes creates barriers to learning. Grades and grade point average are methods by which learning is measured because standards do need to be set. However, they are not flawless, nor are they as objective as they were meant to be. They are important figures in high school, though, because colleges do look at them. Because my grandmother’s death happened right before junior year, a year in which a lot of my peers became obsessed with calculating their ranks, I did not care as much. I did not completely disregard it, but I did not like the fact that some people focused so completely on a few numbers and let these numbers rule their lives. Compared to the loss of human life, getting a B suddenly did not seem like such a big deal to me.
Death is what happens to other
people. Not people you love.
How naïve I was when I first penned those statements. I had just heard the news that my grandmother had passed away. I was in denial. I had separated myself from the world- me and them. I did not realize that I am one of the billions of people in the world. We are one and the same. If I look at them as separate from myself, they must also look at me as separate from themselves. If this is the case, then death, which “happens to other people,” will happen to all of us because to someone else, we are all “other people.” This is why it is important for us to “know that which is greater than the ego.”[12]
What death has taught me is that human life is fragile and precious. Death is what ties us to every other living organism on this planet; none of us can escape death. Death does not have to be a completely horrible experience. Yes, there is a certain amount of pain that comes with death, but tragedy forces us to look at ourselves and the world around us. It causes us to become introspective and question the way we are living our lives. “This is your life, are you who you want to be?”[13] Death also makes us see the impact others have on our lives. We learn not to take people for granted and to appreciate those who have stuck with us through the good times as well as the bad.
Life goes on after death. We take what we can with us. We are grateful to those who helped us along the way because who knows where we would be without them? The lesson is to never take people for granted and to make a difference in the lives of others. They were put in our way for a reason. We all have something offer, something to learn. If we could all just get over ourselves, the world would be a much better place.
This leads me to talk about relationships and the fact that we should value them. People are important. However, in every successful relationship, there is a certain amount of compromise that has to be made on both sides. This is another example of transcending our own egos. At the same time, relationships sometimes prevent us from doing what we want to because we have to compromise with others. There is a certain amount of filial piety and obedience that parents deserve. Those with more experience elicit respect because they are perceived as possessing more knowledge. However, others, even those who care deeply about me, should not dictate the way I choose to live my life. After all, ultimately, it is my life. Again, the trick is in finding the balance. When do I start living for myself and doing the things I want to do as opposed to how others think I should live my life and what they want?
What it comes down to is this. Don’t lose faith. Find something to hope for, and hold onto that. At the same time, it is important to stay realistic. My definition of success has shifted. It’s not the money. It’s who you are and what you do. If you’ve made someone happy, made someone laugh, or made someone smile, then you have worth. What I’ve learned is never to take anything or anyone for granted. We always think everything will always be there. You never think that something’s going to disappear without warning. Also, make good friends; after all, what’s life without friends and family? You do not have to be rich to be happy. You do not have to give a lot; you just have to give. It matters not what you give. It only matters that your intention was good. I am not sure if you could call this my epiphany, but basically, I have realized that whatever you do, do it because it makes you happy. To me, if you are happy with who you are and what you do, you are successful. It’s not all about the money. There’s definitely much more to it than that. We only have one life to live.
Perhaps the question that Martin
Luther King, Jr., asked needs to be rephrased. I prefer to ask the question
this way: What are you willing to live for? What can you do with the life you
have been given to change the world for the better?
Word Count: 4,138