I've spent maybe a week at each of my psych internships this summer, but somehow the experience has managed to considerably narrow down where I want to go in life. First off, I get bored easily. There isn't a lot that I'll find consistently challenging or interesting, and still enjoy. Now it seems the rule PhD's in psychology is that one can become a practitioner, a researcher, a teacher, or some combination of the three. Now I like academics, but that's not where I would jump to right out of grad school. And I definitely enjoy research, but the problem with research is that it can get repetitive. The excitement is slowly sucked from it the longer you're stuck on one topic, one task. And for the most part, you never get to see the results. So the first thing I've figured out is that I definitely want to work with people, no matter what the setting. A human being is the only thing that could constantly challenge me, never get repetitive (even with those stubborn patients who refuse to abandon their self-destructive ways). So it looks like I'm getting a clinical degree!
And the second thing I've figured out over the last few weeks is that I hate being underestimated. I hate taking jobs where I have to do work that's below me. And I hate being treated like I can't do work above what any person fluent in English could do. And this probably means that whatever I end up doing, if I'm not my own boss or working at a high level with lots of chances to be promoted, then i won't be happy. Let's see what else I can figure out this year.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Mortality and the Meaning of Life
It seems like most people don't think much about death. Young people smoke and drink and eat crap, giving no thought to how their actions today might affect their lifespan later on. But the root of this problem goes a lot deeper, because most people driving down the road with a cigarette in one hand will eventually think to themselves "I should really quit smoking." What they won't think to themselves is "I'm about to get in a car accident and die;" that is, not until it's too late.
Mortality is always something far away, permanently out of reach. But the truth is it could be seconds away, for any person, at any moment. And there's nothing anyone can do about that. Human beings like to be in control; they love to think of themselves as independent beings with free will and the ability to create their own future. Thus, most try not to worry themselves thinking about their own demise. It's an uncontrollable thing, the inevitable finale to even the greatest of performances. And this is entirely understandable because if any single person were to spend more than a few seconds a day thinking about death, if anyone was to truly comprehend how close death could be, it would cripple them.
So we keep on setting goals and shuffling forward with an expectancy that we have all the time in the world. Kids say that when they grow up they'll cure cancer, save the world, and complete all the idealistic goals a child might dream of. But that's just the thing: kids say they'll do all the things they would be remembered for when they become "adults," but at what age does adulthood start? When a kid still lives with his or her parents they believe adulthood starts at college, but a college student will say that it can only start afterwards. And a college graduate with an entry level job will explain that one can only be an adult capable of changing the world when he or she achieves job security: more money, more responsibility, etc.And someone in this ideal situation with a lucrative job will look towards the middle aged and retired, claiming it's only after a full career that someone might have the time to leave their mark on the world. Then of course, the retirees say it's the young kids' job to change the world.
When it comes to the meaning of life, a lot of people say that personal happiness is key: we should do what brings us true happiness, and as long as we have led a happy life, then it was a life well-lived. But personally, I think this is pretty self-centered. When I'm gone, no one is going to remember me for how happy I was. That was an internal process, one experienced only within myself. No, my friends and family and future patients will remember me for the affect I had on their lives. They'll remember the times I made them laugh, and how I changed their lives for the better, brought them happiness. To lead a meaningful life, one should aspire to bring happiness into the lives of others. It's as simple as that. And this is not to say that someone should forgo his or her own happiness just to make their daddy proud; anyone who loves you enough that you would want to make them proud would be proud of you for being happy.
Many people wonder how they will have left this world different when they finally pass. But then they push back that one life-altering moment when they will begin to "change the world." Our accomplishments cannot define us. Accomplishments are superficial and impermanent. But the people we meet, from acquaintances to loved ones, are quite immortal. If you save a man's life, he'll tell his children about the gift you gave him, and his children will someday tell their own children about that man or woman who saved their father's life. So take the time today to think a little harder about how your actions affect others. Take a few minutes to brighten someone's day. Because that will be your legacy.
Mortality is always something far away, permanently out of reach. But the truth is it could be seconds away, for any person, at any moment. And there's nothing anyone can do about that. Human beings like to be in control; they love to think of themselves as independent beings with free will and the ability to create their own future. Thus, most try not to worry themselves thinking about their own demise. It's an uncontrollable thing, the inevitable finale to even the greatest of performances. And this is entirely understandable because if any single person were to spend more than a few seconds a day thinking about death, if anyone was to truly comprehend how close death could be, it would cripple them.
So we keep on setting goals and shuffling forward with an expectancy that we have all the time in the world. Kids say that when they grow up they'll cure cancer, save the world, and complete all the idealistic goals a child might dream of. But that's just the thing: kids say they'll do all the things they would be remembered for when they become "adults," but at what age does adulthood start? When a kid still lives with his or her parents they believe adulthood starts at college, but a college student will say that it can only start afterwards. And a college graduate with an entry level job will explain that one can only be an adult capable of changing the world when he or she achieves job security: more money, more responsibility, etc.And someone in this ideal situation with a lucrative job will look towards the middle aged and retired, claiming it's only after a full career that someone might have the time to leave their mark on the world. Then of course, the retirees say it's the young kids' job to change the world.
When it comes to the meaning of life, a lot of people say that personal happiness is key: we should do what brings us true happiness, and as long as we have led a happy life, then it was a life well-lived. But personally, I think this is pretty self-centered. When I'm gone, no one is going to remember me for how happy I was. That was an internal process, one experienced only within myself. No, my friends and family and future patients will remember me for the affect I had on their lives. They'll remember the times I made them laugh, and how I changed their lives for the better, brought them happiness. To lead a meaningful life, one should aspire to bring happiness into the lives of others. It's as simple as that. And this is not to say that someone should forgo his or her own happiness just to make their daddy proud; anyone who loves you enough that you would want to make them proud would be proud of you for being happy.
Many people wonder how they will have left this world different when they finally pass. But then they push back that one life-altering moment when they will begin to "change the world." Our accomplishments cannot define us. Accomplishments are superficial and impermanent. But the people we meet, from acquaintances to loved ones, are quite immortal. If you save a man's life, he'll tell his children about the gift you gave him, and his children will someday tell their own children about that man or woman who saved their father's life. So take the time today to think a little harder about how your actions affect others. Take a few minutes to brighten someone's day. Because that will be your legacy.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
That's it?
I was always under the impression that college meant big things. I could go out and "be what I wanted to be." I could change the world: cure cancer, end genocide, et cetera, et cetera. But at almost any university a young adult could end up at, this is not the case. You still take classes that are both unenjoyable and inapplicable to what you wish to study. Those who claim to be older and wiser still delineate what you can and can't do. And though these rules tend to be more lax than those instilled by one's parents, these "adults" lack the authority of the adults who raised us. A legal adult should not still be restricted by a group of jerks who claim to be "more adult" than the college students they torment. After waiting so long to be considered an adult, to be treated like an intelligent human being who can make rational decisions for his or herself, all I can think after a year in college is: That's it?
Maybe it's just me but college wasn't so huge of a change. Sure I had to do my own laundry, scrounge up my own food, and get my ass to class on time, but this wasn't such a change from my time in high school. The idea that some kids could become so overwhelmed, so homesick that they'd need to leave, seems somewhat pathetic to me. What's the big deal? College is fine. It's not some fantastic experience where you go crazy every weekend, but it's good. I get to spend less time in class, less time on homework, get up late, skip class, and have no one watching my every move. You pick what you want to study (to some degree), pick out how you want to spend your free time, and voila: that's your newfound "independent" life for ya. And I can't help feeling a little underwhelmed.
Maybe it's just me but college wasn't so huge of a change. Sure I had to do my own laundry, scrounge up my own food, and get my ass to class on time, but this wasn't such a change from my time in high school. The idea that some kids could become so overwhelmed, so homesick that they'd need to leave, seems somewhat pathetic to me. What's the big deal? College is fine. It's not some fantastic experience where you go crazy every weekend, but it's good. I get to spend less time in class, less time on homework, get up late, skip class, and have no one watching my every move. You pick what you want to study (to some degree), pick out how you want to spend your free time, and voila: that's your newfound "independent" life for ya. And I can't help feeling a little underwhelmed.
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