A lesson learned in class - Bella Cardenas's Blog

I walked into class this morning, the room buzzing with numerous voices, clamoring all over each other in order to be heard. Squeezing my way past girls with squared glasses, guys with beat up Converses and cargo pants sprawled all around the room, I relished the sounds of youth. And recoiled at the sight of the instructor.  I sat down at my usual seat on the right side of the room, two rows from the instructor. The second row is the perfect learning environment, not too close so that the professor will spit all over you in spasmotic glee when prompted, but just close enough to really get the vibe of the issue at hand. 

The class started normally, with the professor downing shots of expresso at her podium, and the chatter subsiding into a glazed state of learning. We began with an overview of the prior class, and dabbled in some excerpts that half of the class had either forgotten to read or hadn't bothered at all to open. As the class drew on, the professor became restless. She knew that we were really not getting the point of her lecture in the general meaning of philosophy. She was coiling herself up for the strike. I hadn't noticed she started getting excited because I was busy doodling on the side of my paper, waiting for something interesting to happen.

All of the sudden, she shouted:"You! You there in the pinstripe blazer! What is the goal of life?""What is it that you ultimately want from your life?"

I thought to myself, "Ha, that stinks for the sucker with the pinstripe blazer." Looking up from my masterpiece of a doodle, I saw she was starting straight at me. Then I realized that I was wearing a pinstripe blazer. Damn. A loss for words. It launched me into a frenzy of thought. What is the goal of life? What the hell? I don't know. I'm only 18, a freshman in college. I'm not even sure what I want to eat for lunch, let alone what I want my goal in life to be. All eyes on me and my answer. Still, the words refused to come out of my mouth to redeem myself. I don't know, some new tires for my car, a degree, a house with blue shutters, and maybe a couple of kids down the line.  I felt the sweat starting to burst from my glands. I've thought about goals, and dreams but, what? What do I ultimately want from my life? The words refused to form their usual fluidity and poetic function.

"Come on now, come on, What does Plato want you to get from practicing the ultimate arete, the highest form in his Metaphysics."

"uhh.. the highest of the forms is The Good. We achieve The Good by practicing concepts like justice, and right and wrong."

"Okay. And why do we want the Good? Why do we practice things like justice, or right and wrong, or do things like go to class to advance ourselves?" The entire class was still, breathless, thoughtful, the cogs whirling in each of our minds.  Why were we here? Silly with papers, and balancing 10 pound books in our arms day to day. For what?

"Happiness!", the professor exclaimed with the joy of knowing that we were still so ignorant of our own exsistance, "The ultimate goal in life is happiness." We all blinked in surprise, the Professor finally said something that really made sense. it hit home.

9:55, the class was over. Walking out of the door and into the parking lot, my mind was still racing to the point of overheating.  As I pulled out the keys in my oversized purse, and clicking various buttons to unlock, and start my car, I started to think.Why do we do the things  we do? Go to school, get a job, make money, go on dates. Squeeze our feet into shoes with pretty bows on the tips of them. Read, watch the news, buy the expensive kind of toilet paper, why do we do these things? These silly little things that really have no purpose or consequence on others? Why do we write poetry, why do we express ourselves, or keep it in, or dance in the rain, or watch Jet Li movies on saturday nights? Why do we get depressed when things aren't working for us? Why do we make goals? What is my purpose? We put ourselves into these situations in order to get what we wanted originally. You can't get the candy without opening the jar.

My hands were gripping the steering wheel, white knuckled with thought. I was angry, happy, sad, mourning for the sweet loss of time.We can be happy. So fast, so easily. It could all be so simple. But we would rather make it hard. Living is really the thrill of the chase. The bitterness of the journey, the hurt of the trials and tribulations. We need these to make happiness so sweet, and to make it the goal of our lives.  

 And with this purpose, this knowledge gripped tightly in my hands, I turned on my Fire Engine Red Thunderbird, revv'ed the engine, and put it in drive.