The shadows and the light

"The shadows are as important as the light."

-Charlotte Brontë

A time of uncontrollability and stealth

The night is a comforting time for many. It’s a time to wind down, a time to entertain, and a time to prepare for a night of restful sleep. The night is like a dark blanket that wraps one in a sense of security and fatigue. I wish that I could see the night in the same light. However, with the health crisis going on in our world, and having some extra time on my hands, I struggle to shut my mind from stressors after the sun sets. 

I’ve written about having uncontrolled thoughts at night before. My mind seems to work up endlessly pessimistic thoughts in the evening, even when I’m emotionally stable during the day. These mental panics occur most frequently when I have too much time on my hands. The side of me that’s addicted to the drug of busyness feels deprived. It yearns for productivity and the sense of having learned something new when the sun sets and in order to be heard, it causes a rush of 9:00 PM adrenaline that keeps me an extra hour on my laptop. 

At night, I wonder whether I’m doing enough, whether I’ve done enough. I ask myself, have I learned anything new today? I question whether everything I’m doing is really going to help me become the fictitious person I’ve idolized. I grow concerned that life is not going to work out. I worry whether I’ve been productive enough. I try to calculate the hours that I spent doing everything and how much time I’ve wasted. I worry about what I need to do in the upcoming weeks to prepare for XYZ. Overall, I find myself consumed in a lot of questions and concerns that are beyond my control. Perhaps that’s why these thoughts emerge at night, a time of uncontrollability and stealth. 

The night for me up until this point has indicated the end of another day and the end of another opportunity to be productive, learn something new, and do something meaningful. This is why I dislike the ends of the day. Perhaps this is also a wake-up call to accept being comfortable with being uncomfortable. I was reading about this earlier this week in Olivia Fox Cabane’s The Charisma Myth. In fact, being comfortable with being uncomfortable is what allows one to project more kindness and warmth by overlooking the nitty-gritty details and emotions that don’t go our way. At heart, it allows us to be more flexible with ourselves and our own shortcomings without compromising our ability to interact warmly with others. 

I’d like to end with a quote from Ernest Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises, which caught my attention because of its immediate relatability to my recent experiences with wandering thoughts at night. I read this quote this past week and it stuck with me immensely. 

“It is awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the daytime, but at night is it another thing” -Ernest Hemingway “The Sun Also Rises”

The Great Gatsby

About 4 years ago, I watched the movie the Great Gatsby with Leonardo DiCaprio. I was young at the time and didn’t fully understand the estranged, fruitful themes. At a glance, The Great Gatsby is a story about a long-lasting, potent, and noxious love. It’s the type of longing that usually lives in the closets of imaginations for no one dares to speak of such a dangerous romance. Spoiler alert by the way!

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I finished the book this past week and it’s not until you see how F. Scott Fitzgerald writes about the characters and their thoughts that the true power of this American Classic materializes. I must say that the movie does a fantastic job capturing the essence of the characters Jay Gatsby, Daisy, and Nick Carraway. It lacks more on the characters of Tom Buchanan and the Wilson’s, who actually play quite a pivotal role in the plot. The Wilsons represent the side of society with which Tom is too ashamed to be associated. They belong to the working class and George Wilson operates a gas station. Tom shows little respect for George Wilson, not only because he sees George as subservient to Myrtle, but because he sees himself as more manly, taking control of Daisy. 

I felt class divisions, or social stratification was a major theme in this novel. It represents a catalyst for Myrtle’s death. George figured Gatsby had driven into his wife without stopping because he was of the upper class. There are many theories for why George shot Gatsby. Some say George shot Gatsby thinking he was having an affair with Myrtle even though it was Tom. Some say George shot Gatsby for revenge. While I think both of those arguments are valid, I think one of Tom’s motivations was to show Gatsby, and those of the upper class, that money doesn’t grant passageway to careless living. I think social stratification at least in part ties George and Gatsby together because it ultimately detains them from the people they love. 

The American Dream is another major theme. Gatsby grew up poor, served in the war, and then went to Oxford for five months. After, he worked in the drug and bootlegging business and within a few years, made enough money to buy a mansion comparable to that of the Buchanan’s, which had taken generations worth of money and work to buy. Tom Buchanan is suspicious of Gatsby’s money and I think he has a right to be since Gatsby seems to come from nowhere with overflowing pockets and a history tied to Tom’s wife. 

However, what’s curious to me is how Gatsby lied about his background. He wasn’t born into a rich family, the impression he projected, nor was he educated at Oxford University. Lying felt like an obligation. When I consider Gatsby and George, they seem more and more similar. In the eyes of the Buchanan’s, who really represent the attitudes of the upper class, neither Gatsby nor George will ever be good enough. Gatsby holds a slight upper hand in gaining acceptance into Daisy’s world because he has (illegally earned) money. But in the end, we learn how futile that money proved to be. Perhaps it was meant to show the strength of class divisions and the true impossibility of the American Dream. Gatsby’s fate is meant to make us question whether the American Dream exists. If it does, would he have been killed still? If it does, would Daisy and Tom, the uber-wealthy, have fleed from all the trouble on Long Island? 

Daisy and Tom’s fleeing symbolizes the injustices we currently face in modern-day. Again, it comes down to this idea of the American Dream and who has access to attaining this goal. Gatsby’s fate and Buchanan’s response is a classic hit and run example of evading responsibility in the modern world. I think of problems of immigration, and how many people continue to wrongly blame immigrants for “stealing American jobs”. And who suffers the beating? The immigrants, the scapegoats, who are simply trying to secure a better life. This is similar to Gatsby, who even after all his hard work building capital and achieving his version of the American Dream, still gets blamed for killing Myrtle even though Daisy had actually hit her in the car that night. Daisy and Tom simply employ the power of their immense wealth to get away from the situation.

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The Great Gatsby is one of those estranged stories I can’t forget. Even if it lacked the fame of being “The Great Gatsby”, the storyline is so unique and, nevermind that it was written in 1925, touches upon societal issues that persist even in modern-day. F. Scott Fitzgerald has keenly crafted a world where love, class, and revenge ultimately paralyze one intertwined group of people who end up mutually involved in each other’s lives. A timeless classic that successfully touches upon themes well beyond the confined lense of its time. 

What really knocks me out

“What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it” -JD Salinger from "The Catcher In the Rye"

Stuck at home, I've made it a point to read some classic American literature. In recent years, my nose tends to find itself in the middle of a school textbook over books read for pleasure. Well now's my opportunity to change that. 

I'm almost ashamed of how skimpy my contact with classic literature has been. I think it was the first time that I tried to read Twain in elementary school that I started nudging myself away from classics because I couldn't understand anything he was saying. Time has changed that. Language no longer appears so complex on a page and I have the tools to breakdown complex passages. I'm endeavoring to engage more with classics over this next period of quarantine. They're classics after all and they worked to earn permanent spots on the shelves of American Literature.  

Anyway, the quote above is from The Catcher In the Rye, which I find hilarious by the way. This quote stuck out; I had to go back and reread it to make sure I wasn't reading a book review and it was Salinger himself suddenly changing the tone of the narrative. The main character, Holden, is so cynical anyway I cannot imagine himself actually saying that. Perhaps it's a projection of Salinger himself. 

Regardless, I couldn't agree with Salinger more. It's almost a matter of charisma and connection with the audience. Every laugh Salinger generates is an opportunity for readers to connect with the author; it's a matter of taking a deeper dive into the mind of the reader. Salinger enlivens his character through casual writing, which Holden calls his "lousy" writing for lack of a better vocabulary. In fact, Holde's cynical complaints are one, so relatable, and two, so descriptive that I can't help but imagine a commensurate protuberance of Salinger's own pet peeves and observations into the character. Love, love, love this book so far. 

"Deep Work"

COVID-19 has prevented us from going back to school and Andover has implemented remote learning techniques. In other words, there are no virtual class meetings of which attendance is required and all assignments for a particular course should take no more than 6 hours (a significant cut from the usual 10 hr load). To begin this term of history, my teacher asked us to read the introduction of the book Deep Work by Cal Newport. Until today, I’d never heard of this book but Newport’s introduction has convinced me to take a look at it sometime. Newport essentially argues that modern day work culture, which is filled with social networking distractions such as facebook and email, is leading to the production of shallow work since people rarely spend enough time alone thinking through problems and solutions. He argues that in this day and age, deep work, which entails hours of undisrupted work time, is becoming more rare while its value increases indefinitely. He provides examples such as Bill Gates, Mark Twain and JK Rowling who famously seclude themselves in silent places in order to ignite their best thinking potential. Upon reading this Deep Work’s introduction, my history teacher asked up to reflect upon whether we’ve actually ever truly engaged in deep work and under what conditions. He asked us to also consider new ideas to implement in an effort to gain more value-producing potential and what we’ve been doing so far. I quite liked my response to this discussion post so I’m sharing it below. 

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In writing this post, I aspire to be as frank as possible in my response: no route of consideration could possibly lead me to the conclusion that I’ve ever truly engaged in deep work. In fact, Cal Newport humbles himself in his belief “that [he][hasn’t] reached [his] full value-producing potential” (17). Nonetheless, I believe two factors, in particular, have helped me glimpse the experience of deep work of which Newport speaks. The first is interest and the second is impetus. On the history research paper last term, I remember locking myself in my room during the writing/polishing phase of my paper. I sat at my desk in Chase with a few days left before the paper was due and wrote from 5:45-9:00 PM. Time flew. I don’t think I could hide my surprise when I called my parents saying, wow, I just spent 3 hours writing my history paper! I believe writing that research paper was the closest (besides one English paper earlier in the fall) I ever got to what Newport calls “deep work.” What made the time fly was my sincere interest in the topic and the incentive to learn something more than likely relevant to my career in the future and turn in a piece of work that made me proud. Perhaps even that yearning to feel proud of my paper drove me closer to deep work.

It goes without saying that students naturally hone their studying skills with time. However, I don’t think I felt that my study skills improve in any tangible way until halfway through Upper fall. Since middle school, teachers have been telling us to take study breaks after 45-60 minutes of studying. Until Upper year, I’d always been using those study breaks to check my insta feed or play one song, which would unsurprisingly turn into 10 songs. This year, I made a swap. I kept Spotify to the gym and during those short study breaks, I would instead walk around the dorm/library, do a couple jumping jacks, or go stand outside. I believe this helped tremendously because my brain wasn’t focusing on something entirely new, such as someone’s vacation insta from Italy. Rather, my mind indirectly ruminated upon what I had left on the desk. A win-win: I got my break and my brain got hers too without utterly sidetracking. Even now, having incorporated this new trick, I still have trouble concentrating. For example, when I “watch” TV, it usually assumes the role of background noise while I browse Bloomingdales or something. Concentration has never been my strong suit unless I find interest and incentive. However, I am inspired to try something new upon reading the introduction to Deep Work. For all assignments, movies, articles, or books I try to consume, I’m going to commit myself to reading/watching/absorbing etc. for at least 15 minutes. I think after 15 minutes, I’ll naturally find myself more involved and focused on the material, rather than reaching for my phone before I’ve even begun to concentrate. I’m hoping this will improve the span and depth of my concentration periods so that I don’t “permanently reduce [my] capacity to perform deep work” (7). 

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And now I ask you: have you ever truly engaged in deep work and if so, under what conditions?

Lately

Lately, panic and anxiety have befuddled the country. COVID-19. That’s the catalyst. The virus has exponentially worsened around the world, with more deaths from outside China than within according to the Wall Street Journal. 

This global epidemic has affected the US stock market tremendously, dropping 6% just today. I think what’s also hurting the health of the economy is the lack of investor faith in the emergency works to alleviate the effects of the coronavirus, even though the Federal Reserve cut benchmark interest rates to near-zero percent. 

The worry about the rising prices of food drove thousands of people to local grocery stores, wholesale stores, and convenience stores. When my family and I went to Whole Foods to buy milk last Thursday, they had sold out. Not only were the refrigerators empty, but the unusual frenzy of people doing Thursday-night grocery shopping meant non-perishables like flour, soups, and pasta had also flown off the shelves. The checkout line was also overwhelmingly long. In my 17 years going to that same Whole Foods, I had honestly never seen so many people shopping there on a weekend at once, nevermind a weekday evening. 

Lately, I’ve noticed differing degrees of practiced precautions against COVID-19. Some people refuse to leave their homes. Some people are at the beach or traveling nonetheless. I’ve been at home this past one and a half weeks, leaving the house once a day just to get some fresh air and go for a walk. It’s scary when things have started shutting down. Dining in at restaurants is no longer possible, exercising at Barry’s is no longer possible, Harvard Square is virtually empty, and shopping in-store has become hazardous. It feels like our country must fundamentally lockdown all public places in order to fight this disease. I dislike being cooped indoors in one place for too long so the thought of having nowhere to go makes me a little bit anxious. 

Our school extended Spring Break. It’s completely within the realm of possibility that the administration may extend it even further, considering that they encouraged all international students currently not with their families to return home. I’m anticipating a month of online classes, followed by the potential to return to school by May. Anyhow, these next couple of weeks are going to be quite a memorable ride and we’re just at the beginning…

The developmental phase

Ever hear of the phrase, everything will work out in the end? Or there’s light in the tunnel? The 2019 seniors in my dorm told me that repeatedly during periods of stress. At the time, I failed to fully appreciate the meaning behind that saying. I had supposed the light at the end of the tunnel would suddenly come together, or that the “end” would be when I finished high school. I’m on Spring Break for the next two week so I’m writing this from a retrospective point of view. What I can confidently say is that this term forced me to take a new look at these two sayings.

I suppose there’s something we could call a lag time where we’re waiting for the results of things we submitted/completed a while back. That period I’m going to dote the developmental phase. I realized this past term that a large part of what caused me stress was that I was waiting for the results of many things I had set forth or completed, such as standardized testing, summer programs, and schoolwork. I had completed most of these tasks from late December to early February so this past term, it felt like I was constantly anticipating the results of each major task. 

I think the anticipation during the waiting period caused me the most stress. I was constantly thinking about things that were out of my control, such as how well I’d done on a test I took or a paper I had submitted.  I thought about the results of my applications to summer programs and what scores I would get on my standardized tests. I realize now how unhealthy these behaviors can be because, by the end of February, things began to fall into place as I received the results of each article I had set forth. When these uncertainties solidified towards the end of February, I felt an utter relief, as if the weight from the worrying had been alleviated.

I suppose life has always been like that, for the developmental phase didn’t just emerge spontaneously. I believe a combination of Upper year and the weight of every task I complete added an additional stress by bringing a new degree of heft of the development phase that made it stand out this term. But I’ve learned from this experience and I’ve energized a new outlook on the saying everything will work out in the end. 

The end by no means refers to the end of high school or the end of college or when I find my first job. The end doesn’t refer to major stepping stones, rather, it refers to the small steps that it takes to get us there. Waiting for those small steps to work out is what working out in the end entails. I hope that I will remember this in subsequent terms. I hope that I will remember this on the days when it feels like nothing is going right when in reality, I’m just waiting for the results of different tasks I complete. There’s a nuanced difference here and I see the importance in its acknowledgment. 

A single shortcoming

“Being aware of a single shortcoming within yourself is far more useful than being aware of a thousand in someone else.”

 -Dalai Lama

My thoughts heading into finals week of my upper-year winter.

The crossroads of bliss and rationality

There’s something addictive about conversations with certain people. The energies just flow from each other and we seem to understand exactly how to roast, tease, and listen to each other. Addictive there lies in a good sense but there are times when the other party crosses the line, overrunning the most fundamental premise of a relationship of which is respect. It is in those circumstances when we must recognize the necessity of renouncing whatever fun had existed prior and remove the weight of another burden. 

Lately, there’s been a friend to whom I’ve been getting close. We share a mutual history teacher so I began getting to know him through a paper and some homework. We get along very well. We feel comfortable roasting and teasing each other while creating something productive with our time. He’s also a savvy investor in stocks, so there exists a common platform of conversation, debates, and interest in that regard. I truly thought he would be a keeper since every time I walked away from a conversation, I felt like I had something to think about and I felt happier. 

But he crossed the line of respect this past week by throwing a laptop at me after getting angry at my response to a political question regarding the 2020 presidential election. I was shocked when he threw the device at me. It wasn’t even his laptop. It was then that I began to question his inner conscience. Perhaps his sanity and energy on the exterior only masked an internal wreck. I dislike speculation but in all honesty, who throws their friend’s laptop at another friend? It was at that moment that I decided I had to hang around this person with caution. If he dared throw a heavy object at me, who knows the extent of the damage he could further inflict. 

I was drawn to his personality like a drug; it was something I wanted to keep coming back to. He brought out a side in me that few people do. We’re the same level of “delicacy” in the sense that it’s hard to offend each other and we share similar interests. For that reason, it made it especially difficult to cut out this relationship, particularly when I genuinely felt content in his presence. But for reasons beyond happiness that I felt took priority, I had to distance myself. 

It’s surprisingly difficult. It was when I realized the potency of happiness and bliss. Bliss is one of those feelings that has the ability to shroud one’s rationality against all principal values I’ve worked hard to ingrain within myself. What further makes bliss so difficult to neglect is the fact that it’s a natural, addictive high. The days I tried to cut him out, a part of me always wanted to see where he was on Snapchat or see what he was up to and the rational side constantly had to remind me of what he did. So here we are again at the crossroads of bliss and rationality. Perhaps a crossroad I will come across repeatedly indefinitely.

Anxieties into anger

The weather has been tough on my mood. I don’t want to say I get seasonal depression but during the winter months, I struggle to rekindle happiness and positivity when the nights are long and the days short. Walking back and forth from classes becomes tedious and even waking up to do something I’ve loved since middle school – running – has taken on an element of duty.

It’s the little things that bother me the most. Things that may not have irritated me in the past find their way into my cycle of grievances and I’ve been struggling to overlook them. When I forgot my umbrella in Commons, that annoyed me tremendously. When I did poorly on a history pop quiz, I became really upset. When I failed to make proper sense of redox reactions in chemistry, I also reacted poorly.  

These minor grievances have taken a toll on my mental state. I’ve rarely felt so pessimistic and morose for such this long a period of time. I feel sad constantly and waking up has never felt more difficult, particularly when I look out my window and see nothing but pitch blackness. When I ask myself what is causing my sadness, I can’t muster a single, coherent answer. Maybe this goes to suggest that there isn’t one single area of my life causing sadness, but rather the eclectic composition of all the elements formulating a type of pressure I have yet to learn how to handle maturely.

Talking my through my feelings has historically proven successful in helping me cope with problems. I was talking with my longtime friend at school who shares similar responses to the dark New England winters, and she helped me realize my tendency to turn my anxieties into waves of anger.  I seem to get angry at things that I feel vulnerable about or things I’m unconfident about. I think I need to adopt a mechanism for recognizing things that make me uncomfortable and/or vulnerable so that I don’t confuse it for anger. 

For example, when a sale with my business club took some unexpected avenues, it induced great amounts of stress when the faculty member I was working with began texting me to express the exigency of the situation. Or when chemistry an entire chapter of chemistry failed to make sense in my mind. I was also putting together a last-minute English project with another classmate for extra credit, which we both finished last night believing had done a horrendous job.  These are the instances my friend helped me identify that have caused me stress that has transformed into self-anger. I have to avoid expecting perfection in everything I do. 

I’m striving to move past my sadness. I read like a book, so others have noticed my drop in vivacity this past term. A part of me selfishly wants to grip onto the sadness as an excuse, but it’s driving me in a direction in which I’m not exactly proud. But sometimes there are instances where one cannot get out of the circle of despair. But I’m trying. I really am.