The Finality of All Things

I wanted to be many things, like most children, I had endless dreams. I saw a race car and I wanted to move as swiftly, I glimpsed at a tall building and I wanted to scale it. I gazed at something complete and wanted to deconstruct it to see what it was made of. I admired my father and mother, even though the 5-year-old me did not understand which professions they belonged. Whenever we accompanied my parents to the airport, I got excited.  As we drove into the gates, my eyes beamed at the sight of an aeroplane. I wondered how it felt to control an aeroplane as it glided through nothingness in the blue distant sky, up above? I marveled at how this big piece of aluminum floated with ease, went forward imperiously and showed no fear in the face of nothing. I collected thoughts about the person that stood behind all of that. Did he feel the same? I thought about how accomplished, pilots must have felt as they lifted off into the clouds.

 Today, when I consider the incalculable risks one faces as a passenger in an aeroplane, the likelihood that the pilot’s navigation may be inconsequential to a fatal crash, I am forced to reexamine my childhood aspirations (and admirations). More so, now in the advent of Corona- virus, I have had to post pone some travel plans. What has changed? Have I grown? Or, have I become fearful, as a result of the Boeing 737 MAX crashes? Has the knowledge of the high fatality rate of aeroplane accidents pricked my fairytale bubble?  Whatever it may be, change is recognized  as an eternal part of life. As human beings, our preferences may change. We leave places like the floating hyacinth, we let go of people, and our views evolve. We delight in the company of friends, spouses and loved ones, but sometimes, and sadly, this may be only for a while. Our loved ones pass away, as my father did when I was 10. Sometimes those we have opened up to about the most intimate parts of ourselves, betray and consequently hurt us, so, we inevitably have to let them go.  This can be painful.  How does this leave us? Why can’t things remain the same? I often ask myself? I hope this blog can provide some answers, or at the very least help us understand this. 

Backtracking to my last day in Oxford, a somber but calming mood prevailed over me. I had spent most of the previous night packing my bags and boxes. I prepared to move to London. I packed and sealed two cardboard boxes of about one meters length and width. That morning, my host parents helped me load my stuff onto their car, and graciously drove me to the Gloucester Green Bus Station, Oxford. As we reached the station, it began drizzling. Although it was not raining heavily, the droplets permeated everything and chilled me to the bone. I loaded my luggage at the back of the bus and took my seat.  A few minutes later, I felt a force pull me back into chair, the bus had started to move.

I looked outside the window. I saw the raindrops slide down my glass window. I leaned upon it, I saw the Ede and Ravenscroft shop on the High Street. Its name stood out as it was in a golden colour against a green background.  I bought my sub fusc (university gown) and white bow tie for the matriculation ceremony at that shop. That was probably the most nostalgic moment, I felt on the bus as I left. I looked back on what had been a wonderful journey it had been to study at Jesus College, Oxford University. I remember waking up in the morning and being met by tourists, outside my residence on Ship Street. The tourists were often told about the grandeur history of the building in which I had just spent most of my time - cooking, sleeping and reading. It felt special. As the bus drove out further, I turned back. I could see the ever-visible spires shrinking as we went further out. I knew I would miss this place.  Did I have to go? Did circumstances have to change?

I had attended as many events as possible. From formals to debates at the Union and events at the Oxford Africa Society. In class, my ideas were subjected to the deepest introspection I had ever experienced. Most times, my opinion changed from the view I had before the tutorials. I remembered one of my first tutorials. I entered my professor’s office.  Almost every inch of the room was filled with books. Some were open with brown pages while others were closed with countless sticky notes. Although there was a shelf that covered the left wall of the office, there were heaps of books on her table, which I imagine she had been reading. This set the mood for what to expect for the next two hours.

Jesus College 2nd quad

Trish Hall writes that people tend to cling, to their ideas and beliefs - they often resist other perspectives because there are fundamental psychological reasons for protecting our positions. She argues that generally, we pay more attention to evidence that supports our beliefs, and we ignore evidence that goes against them – what is termed as a confirmation bias. Ultimately, this is used to explain why people enjoy keeping around those that share similar opinions. People are hostile to change. The tutorials presented a different experience and in so doing helped us develop new ideas. During the tutorial one was required to defend their ideas in the essay and critique other students’ essays. It provided a good opportunity for one to reflect on what they had written, and also gave one the opportunity to get feedback on what one had written. Perhaps it was meant to guide us to a more informed truth and often that meant changing one's view. Reminding us that even in an academically rigorous setting nothing was ever absolute and we had to be open enough to engage with different views.

On my graduation, our Vice Chancellor   mentioned to us, that the degrees we were awarded, reflected Oxford’s intention to promote certain qualities of mind such as intellectual self-reliance and honesty. She emphasized, “The crucial and most difficult qualities are understanding and the ability to distinguish the truth from the seemingly true.” The rigor of discourse which we were subjected to in the tutorials was meant to guide us to separate the truth from what was seemingly true. (what Yanis Varoufakis sometimes calls “motivated error”).  Moreover, we learnt that what was true could always change (theory of relativism), depending on one’s interests, but ultimately one had to examine all claims. It is crucial for one to always be open to changing one’s views. Change is inevitable and recognizing so, may make one more adaptable.

This week, I asked my mother how it felt like to see your own child, who was entirely dependent on you and, that constantly sought validation from her - how it felt like to see them fly away on their own? I continued on, "How does it feel to not have them ask for your opinion and sometimes not listen to you." She touched her chin and took a deep breath and said, “We give birth to bodies not souls.” But this was not in the literal dimension. It came from a realization that as a child when I made my boat out of paper and put it in a pond. I had let go and it went sailing on its own. I knew from her eyes that I had learned to sail and that was the mark of growth. Although, I'm sure she isn't pleased when sometimes we disagree on so many things, like the length of my hair and beard. 

The inevitability of leaving places, letting go of loved ones, and changing of opinions in tutorials - demonstrate that change is a salient part of life. Even as I change my address, I remain grateful for the opportunity I had, particularly learning that, my views are not absolute. I should be open to change even if it means altering my perspectives. It is life, ever changing like the night and day, like a baby that grows into a woman who eventually holds her own baby – and to think that Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr thought otherwise when he coined the phrase. “Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose” (the more it changes, the more it stays the same) is absurd.