A short story about where you will end up…
Every month, as I begin to write each of these entries, I find myself questioning my own writing ability because I can’t seem to find the right words to say the appropriate things. However, this week I learnt a very important lesson, which not only effects my academic career but also my life. For that reason, today I write something from my heart to yours in the hopes that you can also learn.
A woman called Tara Young came to my school to give a talk about her job as an artistic director for La Pearl. She has worked on Broadway many times (which to me is fascinating!) and has been working in the industry for over 30 years. I automatically thought that she was going to be the type of person who gave a speech about how the performing arts industry isn’t difficult and how anyone can make it easily. Fortunately for me, I was very wrong.
Tara was probably one of the most inspiring people I have ever meet only because she was realistic yet optimistic. She taught me an extremely valuable lesson: I choose where I will end up. I always believed in the idea that your destiny is set out for you and nothing you do can impacted that. Her story of hard work and determination inspired me to re-think that concept and explore the idea of how much autonomy we have over our own fate.
This is a short story I wrote with my conclusions:
“Do you ever consider that perhaps the raindrop knew it was going to land on this spot of our window?” said the girl as she finished to clean the last plate that was left on the sink.
Her hair was long and it shaped her face but most of the time it annoyed her so much, she kept it tucked back, exposing her big ears and small stud earrings to the world.
“I don’t expect an answer”, she continued, “but you are the wisest person I know.”
She spoke to her grandpa who watched her perform her boring chore from the kitchen table. He was a wise man indeed. His wrinkly face showed the knowledge he carried from reading books throughout his long life. As he spoke, the world went quiet. They were always words worth hearing. For a moment, the world respected a conversation. It did not rush or stop it, it listened, as the rain poured.
“I think”, he finally said, “that maybe if the raindrop knew where it was going to land, then it wouldn’t have tried to reach this spot. It would have believed fate to be greater than the force it carried deep within. But, the uncertainty of its destination, caused the raindrop to seek its place, and the belief that where it landed was the corner of the world where it belonged, is what allows the raindrop to keep seeking as the Sun rises once more.”
That was a lesson the girl did not forget, even after her grandfather’s name disappeared from his grave. Even after she reached the millions of raindrops above. The secret was not lost as the world carried it, between each raindrop and window. Only waiting, to be discovered.