What Am I Living For?

I was so busy yesterday dealing with mechanics of the seminar I teach this summer. The class is full with 25 undergraduates and a waiting list with equal amount of students. In addition to all that, there were students shopping for class and hoping to add it. The bad news for everyone who is not on the official class list is that they can only get in unless someone on the roster doesn't up. Anyway, juggling between the class and all the errands, I've managed to read only 22 pages of War and Peace. Reading assignment for my students covers the first two parts of Book 1, which amounts 230 pages due on Monday for discussion. (Should I surprise them with a reading quiz?). I'm a little bit ahead on Book 2 Part 4. However meager in the number of pages I read yesterday, it is quality reading that gives insights to meanings of life and delves with peace of mind and human conscience.

I will not reveal the circumstances that lead to the scene in question to avoid spoiler. Two men, whose lives and fortunes have changed dramatically during the fetters of war, chance to reunion and find themselves at loggerhead in their view of life's meaning. One has sworn off any army service after living a life for honor and glory--the desire to do something for others and the desire for recognition and praises--and not almost but quite spoils his life. He laments over someone whom he has irretrievably wronged and never has the chance to put right, all because of his chasing after honor and glory. The other man is the exact opposite. He has lived for himself until he realizes all the happiness in life only comes about from serving others and denying himself.

I put down the book and lapsed into a pondering silence. What am I living for? I have spent almost my entire life living for others--not necessarily serving them and meeting their needs but rather doing things that please people. I can be such a people-pleaser in order to avoid conflict and confrontation. I am always the "nice guy" who is morose, who is sitting at the corner in class, who smiles but never talks much, who is always the first to volunteer, who never complains about anything and who doesn't know how to say "no" to people. My mother's terminal illness dawned on me--I have to break apart from that fake, unrealistic, conforming public image I have meticulously nourished for years.

Opening up about my sexual orientation is for sure the giant leap toward self-transformation. I realize that if there is ever one thing in life that will render me to be true to myself, that will be the fact of my being gay. It's the inarguable truth written on stone. The revelation of who I am not only removes that burden off my back--but also affords a refreshing perspective of life. I will no longer live for others in the sense of conforming to their standards in order to please and to win approval. I know I have been stupidly obdurate in relationship--how I thrive to change for someone, to conform to his desire, and in the end only to hurt myself so badly. Being true to oneself, after all, is knowing when to let go and move on. Being true to oneself is to preserve that human dignity and peace of mind.