Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Lately I've been neglecting the hell out of this blog. Ever since pre-final-exam period, I've put non-essential stuff like this on the back burner. Then came the holiday season and although with full intentions to post a paramedic friend's interesting cardiac call story, the time slipped through my hands and here I am back in the full-swing of the second semester.

I never expected school to be so life-consuming. I think I'm still adapting to the reversion to student life, but there is another factor I can attribute to my staying in and studying weekend after weekend: Up to this point, I've never truly applied myself to academics to this degree. Throughout my earlier years of schooling and onwards through high school, I was a chronic, incurable coaster. I did the bare minimum and got by with passing grades, solely to keep parents and teachers off my case. My priorities lied elsewhere. Nothing could convince me otherwise that school was undeniably a boot camp leading up to a life of indebted servitude in the capacity of a nine-to-five office job. I was having none of it. Instead, I felt out of necessity to rebel against this society prescribed archaic paradigm of what someone's life should be and how they should prepare for it. I threw that notion out on its ass and pursued my drive to become the *best* guitar player in high school. Noble goal, I know. Anyways, I played and played and played, practiced like hell early into the mornings. I heard once that one of my favourite guitar players, Zakk Wylde, practiced for fourteen to fifteen hours a day, playing all through the night and sleeping through all his classes. I never maintained that un-human level of dedication, but I kept my head down and pressed forward into new realms of technique and complexity that I had never been exposed to before. I had always looked at my playing as "not good enough," because eventually I would come across some artist or song that totally blew my mind and raised the bar beyond what I thought was possible. In the end though, I felt I developed a skill into a real talent.

Music drove me and gave me an identity and a purpose at that age that I didn't find in academics, or anything else really. Eventually, my interests broadened and I grew as a person. My thoughts matured and I became to see the world differently...that it's not all about me. I realized that helping others in your full capacity is the most rewarding and noble thing you can strive for. You may have your own philosophy, but this became mine.

To get back to my main point though, this is the first time I've committed myself absolutely to realizing my academic goals. I've never applied myself to this degree in anything else, not even music. I have so much invested in future is interminably bound to how well I perform, determined by the infamous GPA scale, which is the bottom line in a medical school application. Realizing this, my goal is one-hundred percent in everything. Perfect. I do realize that I am human, prone to stupid mistakes and follies, which I give myself the allowance of. At this point though, there is no excuse for not putting forth my best efforts. There is nothing I would regret more than falling short of realizing my goal of becoming a doctor because I let-up and didn't give it my best shot. That, in itself, was the turning point for my academic and ultimately, my life path. The wanting of something far off in the future so deeply that you're willing to sacrifice and commit yourself entirely, with no reservations or back-up plan.

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