We live in an age of great haste and agitation. People today feel compelled to achieve as many goals as possible in the shortest possible time. Gradual cultivation has given way to rapid absorption; we cram our minds and bodies with things to do, things to learn, things to buy, things to help us reach our full potential.
Children today are made to attain often ludicrous standards. Understandably, parents want their kids to achieve the very best in life, but are they meant to develop with such speed? Might not something crucial be lost in the hurry? Are we erecting a lofty tower on shaky foundations?
J. R. R. Tolkien's epic work "The Lord of the Rings" literally took a lifetime to bring to fruition, but it probably stands as the greatest fantasy work of all time. Its accomplishment is not in its length or plot, but in its ability to make a make-believe world feel authentic because of its elaborate history and meticulously wrought web of intricate themes.
Clearly, an entity of enduring power and quality requires time to fashion. Human beings are the same. A colleague recently shared the following with me.
Be a great oak tree. Dig your roots deep into the ground, instead of sending your trunk and branches ever towards the clouds. Then, nothing can topple you.
Know who you are, what you want. And not what others want or want to see. These words echo in me. Words from a friend I sought refuge in when my soul was battered from the storm. Those were the days when I worked to own - yearning for recognition.
But despite having been successful in all I have aimed to attain, a void still remained. One day, my little cousin came up to me and asked, "Who are you?"
I mentioned my name.
"No," he said. "Who are you?"
I repeated myself. But again I got a dissatisfied look.
"I am happy," he said. "Who are you?"
It then dawned upon me that he wanted an adjective. I paused and pondered. I have. But I am? What I own can be lost.
WRITTEN BY MELISSA TAN
