To make others feel valued and appreciated. That is the reason I am here. This purpose came to me during freshman winter at Dartmouth, when I cried out to God (literally), asking Him why I was here. I initially tried to block out His response — to make those around you feel valued and appreciated. Though it seems simple on the surface, this purpose sounded too complex in its fluidity. Honestly, I was expecting a relatively more tangible response — something like leading a student service organization, a purpose that would fit like a spooning lover alongside my impressive interdisciplinary psychological and brain sciences major. I thought, how am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to bring light to some other person’s day when I don’t even like it here?
I now realize that this charge appeared overwhelming because it directly contrasted with issues that I would have to confront if I wanted to live out this purpose. The message contradicted self-inflicted expectations and ideologies that I felt my immediate community of friends and peers had placed upon me.
I felt pressure to sit at a desk and work, work, work to show that I am worthy of receiving good things in life. Stress, stress, stress to show that I care about this society and will do something (maybe self-righteously) great to prove it. Perform, perform, perform to add the best possible value to a community that is watching and judging me based on my abilities.
In this admittedly hellish cycle, mental and social, when was someone going to speak up and say, “Turn off the expectation pressure cooker and just be you?” But at that time, I didn’t really know what it meant to be me.
The intervening force in this hellish vortex, I believe, was God. The palpable, strained sense of hell that held me down from feeling joy and embracing, rather than dissociating from, my present state of being at Dartmouth broke down. A Peace beyond my own understanding cradled my weary mind and body and restored this inexplicable piece of humanness — my soul — back to a state of wholeness.
I now study contemplative meditation in a randomized control trial setting. This opportunity is a blessing, and the evidence from my research brings a unique sense of meaning to my daily life.
In order to fulfill my purpose further, I apply the principle of deep listening when interacting with those around me. My own mental distractions must be checked at the door, and I must prioritize compassion for whatever the other person currently is experiencing at the time (obviously, this includes leaving any media sources and distracting technology out of sight). Ideally, the interaction resonates with love.
I also make sure to write notes out of sincerity and take the time to pray for friends individually. I believe there must be something greater than us that can pour out unending love, grace and the refreshing sense of power that people need to get through the seemingly unbearable. It’s a matter of acknowledging and accepting that I am by no means capable of making people feel fully valued and appreciated. Inviting a loving power beyond me to do the work is the next best option.
Undoubtedly, God still intervenes in my life today, when layers of self-inflicted expectations begin to film over my lenses of life perspective, twisting this invisible knob just below my clavicle that cranks my neck closer and tighter toward my ears. Only then, with this power that intervenes exactly where my weaknesses would have pervaded, can I take a stand against the faulty thoughts that try to weld shackles of judgmental, expectant restraint around my hands.
On a not so basic level, expectations create shackles — shackles of the self, in conjunction with society’s expectations of people as objects of sexuality. We need to cast these expectations aside, need to embrace the sensual beauty that is authentically present and compassionately receptive.
We need to cast aside shackles of the expectation of being a perfect specimen. Accept the challenge to reconcile cognitive dissonance and emotional discomforts with unequivocal happiness and emotional ease.
Continually confronting my shackles in exchange for mental (or spiritual) freedom at Dartmouth has come with an overwhelming sense of fullness in being. Not doing, but being— being active, being in progress, being invested in a sincere connection with others through love. Being in love especially with the young man I am engaged to marry (hi there, Freddie).
This freedom has paradoxically ushered vulnerability into my life. Genuinely listening to people and expressing love takes an emptying of the mental self-defense heuristics that would otherwise protect us from recognizing the differences or discomforts between us. I think this vulnerability gives conversation a restful tone and might relieve underlying tension.
On that note, I believe authenticity is connected to embracing one’s quirks, which induces vulnerability in the face of others’ possible expectations about your persona. Pausing to remember and embrace quirks of individuality or shortcomings could foster humility in Dartmouth’s culture of individualistic ambition.
Some of my personal quirks at Dartmouth, for good measure, include my brief naked morning yoga sessions in the privacy of my own room and my self-soothing finals technique of making various flared-nose faces in Photo Booth in the library. Freddie and I, as a pair, also consistently embrace the quirk of being engaged undergrads at Dartmouth.
On a deeper level, I am concerned that I will never earn enough to reimburse my parents for this education or justify the stress that my family underwent to send me here on financial aid. I am afraid to feel like I have not adequately served my purpose as a Dartmouth student.
Hopefully we can recognize that our thoughts are fleeting, transient forms of energy expenditure. Here I am, here you are, reading, and we are in this “humanness” thing together. We know that struggle is inevitable. Alternatively, we know that the flow that comes with doing something that you’ve mastered is undoubtedly pleasurable.
To conclude this microscopic piece for a microcosmic campus, I want to take a moment to share with you, dear reader, what I would if this were a conversation over a meal together ...
You are more than a fulfillment of expectations. You are a gatekeeper and a cultivator of truth in the present moment. Each of your thoughts, though transient, is potential. Quite literally, action potential is occurring within your synaptic clefts. I hope that you find the means to cast out self-inflicted or societal expectations that increasingly construct manacles around your ever-so-capable and gifted hands. You and I are undeniably different — though human to human, I see your struggle. I am humbled by your perseverance and ask you to endure seasons of testing to experience the redemption of fully being yourself. I hope that you feel sincere rest in simply being. Above all, please know that you are deeply valued.
