Om Shantih

It’s really late, and I’m typing this in between packing to keep awake to catch my early morning flight. I’m leaving Shanghai today for Princeton, bringing to conclusion a summer filled with experiences that I can scarcely believe I’ve had — memories I know will inform the decisions I make from here on out. My last few days in Shanghai have shifted my focus away from the LSATs and onto my impending return to Princeton. Album here.

On the LSAT end, I got a 168 on my last practice test, representing more than a 10-point jump from my initial diagnostic. This is a good sign, but I know there isn’t much predictive validity in a single practice test — much preparation lies ahead to make that score consistent and to see that it rises to its fullest potential by the February test date. I’m doing my best to set a schedule for consistent weekly practice, and not to worry about it too much.

Aside from test prep, my last few days have been exhausting but great. The design agency I run back at school is swinging back into full force, tons of jobs are coming in, and I’m having to coordinate a million things at once via email. Despite this, I’m finding ways out of stress by spending time with some of my friends here in Shanghai, enjoying the last few bits of my summer vacation.

Yesterday, I was invited to coffee by Amy and Dean Slaughter. I thought it might be intimidating, speaking to one of the foremost experts in international affairs and international law in the United States — but it turned out to be a wonderful , down-to-earth exchange of ideas about our opinions on the unequal growth Shanghai is exhibiting, what Dean Slaughter wrote her undergraduate thesis on when she was at Princeton (some study of the historical context of the literature of eight modern Russian novelists), and what my future career goals are.

After hearing about what I’d done this summer, and about my interests in sociology and social justice — Dean Slaughter asked me point-blank why I wanted to go to law school. I explained that studying sociology makes me believe that social progress is reliant upon an intimate understanding of the rules governing social order — that the knowledge of those rules is key to finding protections for those that cannot protect themselves.

The Dean seemed fairly satisfied with this answer, replying that she spent quite a bit of time herself working in a high-powered law firm, feeling herself unfulfilled with that lifestyle and work environment. Her advice is to find an occupation such that when I look myself in the mirror in the morning, I can assuredly say that I like what I’m doing. My impression is that the corporate path will never be for me — and that whatever I end up doing will be some reasonable compromise between what I love to do and what I have to do.

During my time at Princeton Review, I met this wonderful girl named Christie, a Dartmouth Alum ‘05 who has been spending her years after college searching for the kind of job that she really wants to do. She spent last year teaching in Hong Kong and is now looking to help establish opportunities for gifted children in China via Johns Hopkins’ famous Center for Talented Youth program.

Over very long walks across Shanghai and tea at several different wonderful locales, Christie and I talked a lot about staying true to those things that make your soul sing. It was immediately apparent to her that yoga and the design business I run back at school means a lot to me — and that I need to keep these in my life, using them to balance the more “practical” aspects of my Princeton career.

It’s foolish to believe that happiness will ever come to those that merely try to please others with their decisions or attempt to pacify themselves through the belief that a large monetary pay-off will be worth years of laboring at a job they hate. Too many people believe that if they “work hard” during their post-graduation years — that is, spend 20 some odd years in the highly lucrative soul-sucking labor market — the rest of their lives are guaranteed to be successful and happy.

What I’ve noticed is that indicators of happiness tend to include good health, mental clarity, the love of others, and the love of self. While some people can obtain all four while working 80-hour work weeks, it’s clear to me that I can’t — and that I have to make decisions that correspond to my individual strengths, weaknesses, ambitions, and needs.

I spent a lot of time towards the end of my visit in Shanghai with my friend Wiki, a physics major out of college who decided to teach Latin dance for a living after becoming jaded with the limited opportunities afforded by the standard Chinese job market. In Shanghai, he’s become known as the “Latin Prince” — winning awards and recognition for his incomparable skill, grace, and talent.

It just so happens that Wiki is also gay — with the none of the stereotypical flamboyance but nonetheless confident and self-assured about his sexuality. Right before starting this entry, I spent 5 hours sitting with him in a rather romantic spot in front of the usually-crowded Shanghai Sports Stadium.

At 3 in the morning the area is completely empty and strangely beautiful with its view of the city softly bathed in its own pre-dawn neon — a kind of refuge from the madness of the day.

We spoke a lot about life, boys, and the emotional journeys we’d both taken in the last several years. He noted that I’ve really grown into myself over the last summer — becoming thoughtfully mature on how to live the life that belong to me. He admires that I care a lot for the opinions of my parents, but also that I’m starting to understand how to make my own decisions according to my own understandings about the world.

This summer has been filled with meeting incredible people that come to understand and care intensely about me in the limited time I have to spend with them. It’s fascinating to me that a single conversation can inspire friendship and that I honestly carry the lessons all these friends have to teach me.

This post is ending in Princeton, where I’ve spent the last three days moving into my beautiful new dorm, doing a bit of yoga, and getting myself reacquainted with the campus and its already-busy culture. I turned 21 on the 9th, and celebrated with some of my best friends by going out to one of the nicest restaurants in Princeton. It’s so incredibly nice to be in company of people you care deeply about and haven’t seen for a while — it’s as if all the memories that you’ve shared with them come rushing back to you, even as you share the experiences you’ve had while apart.

That same night, I sang with the campus gospel ensemble in front of a 1000-person freshman crowd — and felt myself moved by the amount of spirit and happiness we were able to muster. I think I’ve figured out that I’m utterly incapable of living the life of a standard Princeton student — but that I’m surprisingly okay with that.

This summer has been an incredible emotional journey — and I am better for it. I will write one more entry before I bring this chapter of my life to a close, but I want to write that I’ve really enjoyed making this blog, and that whoever is reading this has enjoyed it as well.