I’d like to think that I’ve made the right decisions in my life. That, or mostly the right ones, anyway.
I’d like to think that when I first boarded that plane nearly four years ago and exactly 11,721 kilometers away (yes, it was a different world, where something called the metric system existed and where a certain boxer named Manny Pacquiao has become nothing short of a national icon), I conceded myself to the great oblivion of the future.
I did not know what lay before me across the salty seas, but that was precisely the beauty of it. It was a void, an unknown reality that held great possibilities. I’d like to think that I was something of a Magellan or a Columbus, mapping out uncharted waters to the rest of my life.
The great unknown is both profoundly terrifying and compelling. That we choose not to shirk in the face of what we do not know ultimately determines whether or not we surrender ourselves to a life of complacent mundanity. It is this spirit of exploration and blatant disregard for the fear of the unknown that paid immense dividends for the likes of Magellan and Columbus.
Of course, the reality of my life is none so epic. In fact, I doubt anyone’s is, really. Perhaps the truth of stories will prove them to be nothing more than mere exaggerations. Maybe Hercules didn’t so much conquer the Nemean lion as much as Nemean kitten. Maybe Goliath was really a slightly taller-than-usual individual, which made him just a tiny bit more of a formidable opponent to the average David. The point here being that history and legend have a way of distorting what we perceive as greatness.
This seemingly futile exercise in human contemplation tells us one thing: that the values embodied in small tasks do not diminish the magnitude of these actions; that in our small, everyday ways, we can make a world of difference. You needn’t die in a war to defend your country. You needn’t find the cure for a disease to make lives better. As a woman who chose to sit down in a bus once demonstrated in 1955, seemingly little acts can have tremendous consequences. Rosa Parks was no less a hero than our beloved characters in myth.
Yet the question remains from the opening statement of this account. Have I made the right decisions in my life? I have no answer.
What I do know is that I have attempted, in the face of uncertainty, to retain my resolve and that I’ve put effort into making a difference, however small it might have been. I have often failed. But maybe, just maybe, in the grand scheme of things, history might come to see me as a retroactive success. We’ll have to wait and see. But, at the end of my days, should the stars not have greatness aligned for me, I can rest easy, knowing that, yes, I tried.
Ong was an assistant Viewpoint editor, a 2009-2010 Editorial Board member and a Viewpoint columnist for 2008-2009.