The future is an unknown that many of us fear. Throughout childhood, many of us are innocent, embraced by the safety of our homes. We are fed ideals and taught principles by our caretakers: parents, teachers, and adults. There is no care, no concern for a faraway time that slowly creeps upon us like a mantis preying in silence. The clock ticks, and without warning, we are eighteen and thrust into the role of being an adult when we feel far from being adults.
Post-secondary often feels like the final frontier, the last barrier protecting us from truly being submerged into the depths of adulthood: a contributing member of society. As such, it is also often a tumultuous maelstrom of uncertainty: which direction is my life going? What do I want to do for the rest of my life? Will I be happy? Thoughts that slowly festered as we matured run rampant in many of our minds and can be overwhelming, leaving one lethargic. Days pass as the inevitable seems to approach before you’re sent into a freefall in which you, yourself, will have to grapple with the reality of your existence.
Yet, even with the terror such freedom entails, there is a beauty that lies in wonder. So often, we fall into the trap that life is linear; the decisions we make now will permanently define us and diverging from this set path will only result in irreversible failure. In reality, we as human beings hold so much agency over our own lives. Yet, we relinquish that power in fear of wasting our precious, limited days, leading many to dim their lights, eventually extinguishing them to adhere to this path.
Though I don’t deny the importance of consistency, there is a fine line between consistency and stagnation. Stagnation breeds mediocrity in a world where there are far more possibilities if we only give ourselves credit for our own capabilities. Forcing oneself to follow a pre-established route ultimately shifts the waste of days to the waste of an entire lifetime that could’ve been one filled with nothing but the very best that we all deserve.
However, in saying all this, I myself understand this fear very well. As a child, I was taught that to live a comfortable life, it is best to adhere to a neatly planned-out path: study hard, achieve perfect grades, go to an academic high school, graduate, attend university in a program studying fields that yield high salaries, and get a job in said field. It all seemed set in place, and, as a child, I had little experience to compare to, so I assumed that the life I was taught to lead was exactly what I wanted.
But in high school, I started having doubts which clouded my mind, closing off the vastness of life into a small, dark tunnel I felt I had no choice but to follow. I suffered in silence, believing that I was the problem. In reality, the problem was the way I went about life, as I soon realized; a comfortable life doesn’t necessarily translate to a happy life.
Even with this epiphany, I didn’t know how to escape; I felt that I had come too far down this path to divert from it. I came to the U of A believing myself to be a failure for being unable to fulfill what I perceived as what I was supposed to do. But eventually, the burden became too heavy, and I took a leap of faith: I changed my program to major in East Asian Studies. Initially, the decision seemed preposterous, in opposition to everything I was taught to believe in - this was a lesser-known field in humanities. Yet, rather than invoking more fear into me, the burden was relieved; to love what I learned, feel passionate about my classes, and no longer suffocated by the pressures of my self-imposed expectations — it was freeing.
I had been so cautious of the unknown that I robbed myself of realizing all the possibilities it contained. Once I lifted those blinders, what was once a narrow tunnel opened up, and it was as if the sky opened up; I could breathe and relish in the fact that what the future holds is unknown. Breaking down the boundaries I set for myself, I am pursuing my goals without limiting myself to a singular road set in stone. Rather, I view the future as an open field in which I gradually forge my own path, day by day.
You see, we all know that life is unpredictable, but it is precisely this unpredictability that makes it so riveting. Even in the most stable lives with perfect routines, unexpected encounters of fate are unavoidable. But being able to live in the present and take each day for what it is will help you adapt and persevere through any challenges. In doing so, you can dauntlessly face the future with courage, living vivaciously and knowing that through the journey of putting forth your best efforts to achieve your dreams, you are living your best life without regrets.
And even if you come face to face with a setback, it is never too late to change and take detours. Such experiences can always be recovered from, and rather than being a waste of time, it is another page in your book of life.
What I’m saying applies beyond the scope of university students with similar experiences - I’m sure many of you are content with where your life is heading. Rather, if you ever feel that the blinds are closing on the light ahead of you, I hope you can feel reassured knowing there are others who stand in solidarity with you. And just as I never imagined I would ever break out of the mundanity I was trapped in, I hope no matter how uncertain the future may seem, you all will always remain certain in yourselves.