“We are limited, not by our abilities, but by our vision.”
We look at life either at a laser-beam-microscopic closeness or at a squinty distance (like artists do...to see the colors and the shape). Keeping a dual perspective means to succeed at life. Sadly, I switch from one to the other with no real logic. I live by the "will it matter in twenty years?" and the overly-analytical, pro-and-con-list mentality depending on the day. Take this week as an example:
Monday I cried after evaluating my bank account in Euros and filled out some of my missionary papers and sang to country in the summer rain. Tuesday I dropped French class, added Political Science, and searched for jobs in Salt Lake. Wednesday morning I pretended that I didn't need to do anything. Wednesday at 1 o'clock I decided to stay in Provo (after discussing it for three months), registered for an Economics class, and completed my graduation papers for December 2008. So many decisions! So many doors!
Today I am sitting here after my foreign yet informative ECON 110 class. I became familiar with PPFs, CPFs, opportunity costs, trade, marginal rates of substitution, etc. While my professor lectured about trade and the up-and-coming Zig Ziglars passed notes to the blonde next to me, my thoughts drifted from my own scribbly graph. I leapt to the macro-economics of me. I could only think of the soul-searching application of the concepts: What are the opportunity costs of relationships? My presence in this class makes our economy less efficient since I am not specializing (who really knows what an Art History major's speciality is)! Is an indifference curve truly infinite (i.e. can you put a price on everything)?
At crossroads, we turn in every direction. We bury our noses in "self-help" books or "how-to-be-successful" tutorials. We look side to side to see what others do. We gaze inside to see what we want or need. We look up. Instead, I just close my eyes. (Now that is a stupid idea.) Lately, I have ignored both micro and macro. I stand here, pretending that my legs don't feel the draft from the open doors...that closing my eyes makes everything so much better. Refusing to open my eyes and close my open doors may stem from indecisiveness or selfishness but, most importantly, it comes from not knowing where all the doors lead. That is scary. That is life. And that is the point: to not know, but walk through the door anyways. To open your eyes and stare into the vast unknown.
Needless to say, my future as an economist looks shaky (at best) and my prospects in opthalmology seem bleak. But, I can walk...even though I don't know where I'm going. Yes, I can open my eyes and walk. After all, the opportunity cost for actually living, my fear of not living, seems to have no market value.
