love, read, write

It seems that these days I am following my own trend of starting my essays with "On." Perhaps it is a side-effect of my writer's block (my constipation in creativity). I cannot think of a better title than to, well, call it what it is. An essay on the perception of happiness. And it is not just any kind of happiness. I am talking about happiness as it often pertains to students, my peers, my friends. I dedicate this to my friends K, C, and the endless other people out there who have bumped into moments of doubt and unhappiness.





Often, in our lives, we reach obstacles. Sometimes, they come in the form of a human, sneering and bigoted, or perhaps snide and rude. Sometimes they are places, like a stadium or a stage. Sometimes they are times, such as the future or the past. But sometimes, the scariest of all, it is us ourselves, our own minds which create the obstacles. We are afraid to act, to speak, to move forward. Or perhaps we curl inwards until our own nails begin to scratch our insides and we feel the blood flowing internally in places they should not.

The biggest and often most difficult obstacle we run into is the obstacle of the self. There may come a time when you (yes you) will sit down and wonder what your own worth is. Perhaps you will feel ugly, stupid, incompetent, or selfish. Perhaps you will feel like you are not a good person. Perhaps you will feel like there is nobody out there who believes in you; perhaps you will feel like there is no worth in being alive.

Moments like these are arguably the most difficult moments of life. Because when you convince yourself that you are not good enough, no material gain or loss will suddenly lift this thought off of your shoulders. Suddenly, when you feel like you lose this thing called "worth," you are degraded to something less than human, something that wallows in the subterranean world among worms and dirt. Because you are not good enough. Good enough for what? For working? For getting As? It doesn't matter. If the feeling starts, you are unhappy enough to decide that there is no hope. Zilch.

In a world like today, in a country like America (with hyper-capitalism), worth is a big deal. Society puts it up on a pedestal. I admit that I, too, am involved in this exchange of "worth." Perhaps we compare worth with grades; perhaps we compare it with money. Perhaps we compare it with popularity, with likes, with comments. At the base, we compare ourselves with numbers. Do numbers create a concrete scale for us to compare ourselves with others (and since we are animals of logic, we naturally latch onto this "objective" measurement)? Or does it somehow validate our existence? Whatever it does, this measurement of "worth" suddenly takes over our lives and convinces us that a lower number means a lesser worth and a higher number means a greater worth.

Friends around me struggle because of worth. It is natural; we are adolescents, our consciences, our maturities, our perceptions of the world still blooming. We are premature fetuses barely getting a glimpse of whatever is the "real world" (if there is one at all). As we try to figure out our own existences and begin to open our eyes to the greater places outside of our homes, we begin to cower because of this societal construction of "worth." And often, in the case that our measured and compared "worth" is suddenly perceived as low compared to the "average" or "good" worth, we are suddenly unhappy. We wallow. It is terrifying, in that moment, to suddenly realize that you are not good enough for the world. One day, you were walking around, happily doing whatever made you happy, but then the next, you suddenly realized that whatever you do doesn't matter because, well, you're just not good enough.

This societal construction of worth is what often grabs the neck of students, adolescents, and even adults. Perhaps after a certain point worth is GPA. Perhaps then it is income. Perhaps it is beauty (as it is perceived by society). Whatever it is, we begin to compare our own selves (an entity that is separate from the physical world) with the materials and the numbers. The concrete.

The fact is that each one of us are priceless. We are priceless in the very sense of the word that there is no possible price, or number, that can be put on us. There is no "good" or "bad." There is no higher end or lower end. We simply exist as we do. To be "good" or "bad," "worth a lot" or "worth little," are all petty arguments; our physical beings themselves cannot reflect accurately to even the largest degree what we have inside. So there is fact one: you do not have a worth. But not in the way you might think. You don't have a worth because your existence does not allow a measurement to be made. It is like asking for the longest edge of a sphere. It's round! What am I supposed to say?

There was a time when I, too, measured my "worth" with numbers, with others. I mean, I still do (though not as much). I learned this the hard way. (But perhaps I was meant to learn it that way. I am a stubborn soul, and without this kind of experience, I may have lived my life believing that smart is better than stupid and rich is better than poor. I could have lived my life depending desperately on "worth.")

So what happened?

There was a time in my life, during my high school career, when I was not the stellar student. Of course, those around me did not recognize my downfall because they always perceived me as the high achieving student I led them to believe I was. But it is true; there was a time when I hit an obstacle so large that I could not possibly cross it by myself or with others' help. I began to descend into a sudden sinkhole that engulfed me until it had me by the neck. Before then, I had lived believing that I was "worth" much. That I had high "worth," that my GPA and my intelligence and my grades and the pluses after my As were all reflective of who I was, reflective of what a great student I was.

But suddenly, I began to bring home 50s on tests in more than three subjects. I studied, but I fell asleep before I could read more than a paragraph. I did my homework, but always I found myself behind. Somehow, something had gone wrong. I was confused. I refused to accept the numbers in my gradebook. Because according to my beliefs, this meant that my worth had suddenly, in the snap of someone's fingers, gone to near zero.

The first time I came home with an F, I cried in my own bed and hurt myself in ways I should not have done. After all, is it not natural to feel desperation and hopelessness when one's entire treasure chest has disappeared to nothingness?

Yet nothing changed; I continued to fail. I fell asleep during tests; I fell asleep during class; I got zeroes and 50s and 30s. I could not concentrate. I was a mess. I doubted myself. I suddenly realized, then, that I had reached my end. This was it. I had reached my limit, and henceforth, I would live knowing that at the measly age of fifteen (or was it sixteen), I had already reached the dead-end of my skillset. Suddenly my throat felt clenched and my future seemed fogged. I was incapable and utterly, utterly devastated.

During that time, people (adults) around me told me that I was good enough. What are you talking about? Don't measure yourself with your grades! You are still an amazing person! That's all that matters! Sometimes, these adults became angry. They were impatient. I don't understand. Why are you like this? You shouldn't be feeling this way. How can you say grades define you, for the millionth time? How many more times do I have to tell you until you can actually stand up for yourself?

It felt like a joke. How could they be saying this when they themselves praised those who got 100s and told the ones with 40s to "do better"? How could they be saying this when they left in our brains an inherent belief that intelligence is the highest form of life? At that point, I did not understand. I had misunderstood. All that mattered to me, then, that I was no longer at the top of my class. That I had suddenly lost my worth, the one thing that had held up my confidence (very unstably). This loss of worth, in itself, was an indication of my failure. I latched onto the word "failure" like it was a life raft in an overflowing river. I was a failure. A failure. A failure. A failure.

But after time, reflection, and a bit of medical intervention, I came to a spot where I realized that worth was not really worth. I learned that the measurement of worth was foolish. I began to understand (to a small, small degree) that perhaps life wasn't really about colleges, grades, intelligence, or education. Those were small things on the side. I realized, then, that in the end, colleges and grades aside, I was who I was, and there was no changing it. This was integral to my regaining of confidence about myself and my life--that I was who I was. Nothing more, nothing less. Just me.

The only constant in my life wouldn't be my intelligence or my grades or my college. It would be me. My essence. And in order to feel confident for a long, long time, I would have to trust this essence of myself. Me at the core--this small, intangible dot sitting at the very center of my existence. This dot would be a dot, no matter how talented or how untalented I was, how high or low my IQ was, or how pretty or ugly I was (as perceived by today's society). This dot was me. The Celine dot. I would have to believe that this dot of mine--this me--would simply keep moving. There was nothing more to believing in myself than simply trusting that I would move in a way that would make me happy.

It was hard. It is hard. Even now, I have very low self confidence. But somehow, this trust and letting-go of the situations around me has opened up my eyes to the fact that what happens to me will happen to me, whether I want it to or not. That my worth does not exist and that no matter what other people say, as long as I am who I am and I am okay with this, everything in the world (or at least my world, or at least my perception of my world), would be okay.

Tomorrow is unknown, so I will hope for the best. And what tomorrow brings, in the end, is what is best for my existence, my core. My dot. Whether it means failing a test and learning to study harder, or whether it means dropping out of college to redefine myself, or not getting into all of my colleges and taking a year off, or going to my state school and meeting new friends, or moving out of town because of a sudden issue, or dropping out of college to start a business, or transferring into an easier school because of workload, or graduating until the end, blah blah blah--what will happen will happen whether I want it to or not. And I will embrace it. Because good or bad, I will learn from it. If life will offer me a good experience, I will be happy. And if it will offer me a "bad" experience, after it is done, I will simply learn and gain wisdom for future reference. And I will move on. No exchange of worth involved.

Let me ask you this: what is the point of being alive? What is the meaning of life?

If you have thought long enough, you will realize that life is not really about anything. Nobody knows what the heck the meaning of life is. Nobody knows who put us here or why we're here or what we're "meant" to do, if there is even a "meant." If there is a single "answer," we will never know (42?). And if there isn't, well, so be it. Everyone on this planet earth only recalls their current life and thus are all newbies on their first try. All we really know about life is that we'll exist, and then, after some time, we'll stop existing.

So what? We will all die. It's no surprise. But if you ask yourself this question again (what is the point of being alive?), you will realize that there is an eerie feeling in knowing that somehow, everything we have done here will disappear when we do too. Because the only life we are sure of is our own. Suddenly it becomes important not that we hoard as much of the "good stuff" (talent, beauty, intelligence, etc.) as we can before we die, but that we are satisfied with this hoarding of items. Or whatever we have with us. Because otherwise there is really no point in doing all of this, right? If it made us sad or indifferent, why would we do this, right?

Happiness. We pathetic, small humans, with our finite lives and our fear of the happenings after death, want happiness. Because happiness is something that is positive. It is, in the simplest terms, "good." And good makes us feel alive. And we want this thing, this good, before we die, because otherwise, a life full of sadness or indifference before death is not much of living.

But happiness--happiness is an illusion that happens within one individual's own head. We believe we are happy because we convince ourselves that the current situation we are in is worth feeling happy about. Alright, then. What defines what is happy worthy, and what defines something that is not happy worthy?

One answer: society.

If a loved one passes away, society determines that this death is not a happy-worthy situation, right?

If I get a job promotion, society says that getting a promotion means better pay which means a higher income which means more money which so clearly indicates a happy-worthy situation, right?

Well. Society is not the only answer. You are. I am. The individual is. Happiness is defaulted by society, but can be overridden by the self. Override the method! Why should being rich be a happy-worthy cause, and why should being poor be a happy-unworthy cause? Or why should getting a C or a B be a happy-unworthy cause? What if we overrode it to be null? What if we dissociated worth with happiness?

Happiness is a sensation, but it is also a product of perception. We perceive happiness in places they should often not be perceived. Of course, there is nothing wrong in being happy about being rich. But to latch onto it as a cause for happiness and a reflection of self-worth is unhealthy. Because always, always, materialistic things (even talent!!!) are temporary and not guaranteed to last forever. But one thing always is: your essence (your dot!).

It is easy to perceive happiness-unworthy situations in places society deems happiness-unworthy. The lack of talent in often prized areas; the lack of willpower to do something; the lack of passion; the lack of empathy; the lack of beauty; the lack of anything, perhaps. But all of these are simple constructions of society. Why accept it as you? Why accept it when you can deny it, override it, and decide that "who cares about society, I am who I am and I choose to like myself"?

Self-doubt can be poisonous. To decide that you are worthless or less than others is undesirable and tragic. But such is the natural course of things, sometimes. The feelings you have now are one hundred, two hundred percent valid. Perhaps your life has determined that at this point in your life, you should feel this way. But more importantly, after you overcome this, you will become stronger. You will be more confident in facing issues in your future, because you have already won over one test. You will realize, after continual (and albeit sometimes completely empty) self-encouragement and steady patience, that your perceived worth should not affect your perceived happiness.

Happiness is an illusion that is closely related to societal constructs. But once you recognize these societal constructs, happiness can be created wherever you want it to be created. You can be in power of your happiness. Although the greater meanings of life still have unknown things planned for you tomorrow (like maybe sorrow), when the time comes, you will be able to control your happiness and remember that your price is priceless and that you are worth nothing and everything in the world, all at the same time.