Breaking the Bell Jar
As I neared the end of my presentation, my examiner imparted a profoundly meaningful piece of advice. He fixed his gaze upon me and said, "If you want to become a great scientist, you must be willing to sell your soul to the devil." I couldn't help but respond with a lighthearted remark, asking if I could still consider myself an angel while professionals like him had supposedly forfeited their souls. His laughter filled the room, affirming that my interpretation was indeed correct.
Since then, I have often contemplated the significance of my examiner's words. It was more than just a lesson in science; it was a lesson in life. He was implying that to truly delve into the depths of existence, one must be willing to explore all aspects, even those that may seem dark or unsettling. This was our duty as scientists – to approach data without bias and to recognize that both positive and negative results carry valuable insights. To dedicate oneself to a craft, whether in science or any other field, requires a level of commitment that encompasses one's entire being, including one's sanity. It means being willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of one's art, as this pursuit is the ultimate calling. If we are not prepared to go all the way, it may be better to not embark on the journey at all.
The initial stages of any endeavor can be arduous. Criticism is bound to arise, and we often become our own harshest critics. I am reminded of my experiences in formal schooling, particularly during my third-grade math class. As an exceptional student, I found myself solving math problems with ease. Yet, as I glanced around the room, witnessing my peers tackling the same equations, a profound disinterest in school suddenly took hold of me. I started to sleep in class, skip lessons, prioritize play over study, and even failed numerous tests. The sole motivation that propelled me forward was the sacrifice my mother had made to ensure my education. When my peers were applying for college, I remained at home, indifferent to the whole process. While others shed tears over not being admitted to their "dream schools," I sat in the cafeteria, enjoying my meal. I turned down numerous opportunities, skipped basketball games, and disregarded graduation practices and other seemingly trivial celebrations. After high school, I distanced myself from friends and anyone who reminded me of the monotonous existence I had grown tired of. The only motivation that continued to drive me was the quest for knowledge and the relearning of how to truly live. Life was challenging me at every turn, testing my resilience.
These experiences have shaped my understanding of the pursuit of greatness and the sacrifices required along the way. They have taught me that true fulfillment lies not in simply going through the motions, but in embracing the entirety of life's journey, both its triumphs and its hardships. It is through these transformative experiences that we discover our true selves and unlock the potential to make a meaningful impact in our chosen paths.
The process of unlearning proved to be even more challenging than the initial learning experiences. Formal schooling was an oppressive and monotonous journey, leaving me to wonder what became of my valedictorian seatmate. Our stark differences in approach and demeanor created a palpable sense of distress and anxiety whenever I sat beside her.
To navigate the unlearning process, I embarked on a path of self-education. I immersed myself in books that were not part of the school curriculum, sought improvisation in various aspects of life, indulged in excessive drinking, embraced isolation, and made my fair share of mistakes. Yet, despite these efforts, I have yet to fully commit to going all the way. It demands a great deal of discipline, and there are moments when laziness or depression overpower my resolve. Through the unlearning process, I discovered that the key to pushing forward lies in confronting my depressive episodes head-on. I had to confront and embrace my personal demons and pains, as the alternative was either stagnation or self-destruction. Today, I find myself with a broader range of emotional experiences, allowing me to navigate between happiness and sadness, often finding myself oscillating in the realm where sanity seems elusive.
Occasionally, I encounter old friends who were once vibrant and full of life. However, they now appear as hollow shells, prematurely robbed of their vitality. They are too young to have succumbed to such a fate, too young to be burdened with raising uninspired offspring. The cycle continues relentlessly, and I can only hope that someday they too will awaken to the need for change.