Life has dulled to a hum and I couldn’t be happier. I am enjoying a quiet thanksgiving from a lonely Kingston. For one weekend, the primary contributors of rambunctiousness emigrate to congregate with distant relatives, eat disproportionately fat turkeys and most importantly, appease their financiers. Such pensive times allow for a celebration of the true purpose of thanksgiving. That is to give gratitude to the social fabric and institutions that allow for our continued success. I have contributed nothing to society but have received much in return. Thank you.
Shortly after claiming that my future would be “unsettling” on my (well received) September 15 post, I found myself with a clear sense of direction for the next seven months. It involves restaurants, mathematics and Paris – there are worse combinations.
With a stroke of an electronic pen, I moved Canada’s unemployment rate a few negligible ticks in the right direction. But there was no escape from buyer’s remorse. Third year commerce students see the world as their oyster. They are free agents in a seller’s market. Their insecurities are actually options, which we know to have much value. It is difficult to see many years of effort culminate in something as fleeting as a signature. And the question that will always jut out is “did I make the right decision.”
The timing was particularly awkward. After a year and half of networking and career testing, the entire decision unravelled during the first two weeks of school. That was unexpected. I thought I would have gone through the official process in November. This was historically the month of reckoning, when kings were crowned. During my first two years, I had always envisioned third-year recruiting to be a stressful ordeal, as were March 2010 and January 2011. My experience was vastly different. I submitted my beautified résumé with some pompous footnotes and ended up with exactly what I wanted. Many watering hole conversations with sages later, I realized I had a chance to be self-fulfilled and happy. I signed the offer.
What I have recently learned is that third year commerce is not the end-all. Rather, it is a beginning to a difficult and demanding life. Wannabe financiers bring up a famed diagram that shows a distinct path to “success”. The misconception is that third-year recruiting defines success. This summer spelled my disillusionment. I saw enough despair to know the hardship lies after. With all the firm-cycling and industry-hopping witnessed this summer, third-year recruiting is certainly not the end. There is no timeline. Life is more interesting than that.
This newfound attitude might best be described as short-termism. Without gateways at prescribed times, there is no need for a plan. Heading in the right direction is enough; how you get there is the sum of everyday decisions made because they are good and righteous in themselves, because they fit with your values. Hopefully, those values include such venerable qualities like hard work, commitment and sacrifice as these will surely help in the longer term. People with these qualities may very well decide to over-work themselves in the short term and propel themselves into the future. But embracing hard work, commitment and sacrifice is a lifelong pledge. To claim to work hard now to have it easier in the future is simply indefensible.
That is to say you should never do something because it is a means to an end. You should do it because you want to.