I read “Tuesdays with Morrie” for the first time when I was just 13 years old. In hindsight, I was far too young to fully grasp the wisdom being imparted on me. So, at 18, I picked it up again. It was the summer before my freshman year of college, and I found it a fitting time to revisit Morrie’s wise words.
For those who haven’t been lucky enough to read it, this memoir was penned by Mitch Albom as he chronicled his beloved professor’s impending death from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS. It’s a short but heartfelt account of their time together, but it also contains a lot of Morrie’s knowledge and wisdom from a life well-lived. I’d like to share some of his teachings that have stuck with me and that hopefully resonate with my fellow peers.
“So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they’re busy doing things they think are important. This is because they’re chasing the wrong things.”
I’ve come to the conclusion that careerism is an epidemic in college. This idea that people are walking around half-asleep is probably more relevant now than ever. When I’m headed down Bruin Walk, I often see people who look like they’re practically dragging themselves to class. Their faces: emotionless. I can see it in their eyes; the joy has been sucked out of them, and I know what did it to them. It was that never-ending to-do list sitting on their desk taunting them. The homework being piled on higher and higher each day. The weight of the world on their shoulders to secure an internship not only for this summer, but next summer too. It’s a lot to carry on our own. I know, I struggle with it too. We’re all in search of the same thing: success. In this day and age, it’s really hard to go to college and be completely, utterly free to move where the wind takes us, exploring our interests without that unspoken timeline being thrown back in our face. It’s impossible to avoid completely, but maybe Morrie’s words can help keep us a little more centered.
“The culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn’t work, don’t buy it.”
The internet is insufferable. The endless social media platforms are riddled with influencers trying to sell us whatever new, overpriced gadget or skin care product they’re getting paid millions of dollars to advertise. Political propaganda is spewed everywhere. There are those using other people for social clout and still more who won’t lift their heads up from their phones for five seconds to have a real conversation. Littered is people flaunting their wealth and their fake Pinterest-board lives, even when we all know that none of it is real. Personally, it drives me insane. I long for the life my mom had when she was my age, where doors were left unlocked, and friends and family gathered often and in large numbers: true connection. I’m still finding my people and, truth be told, it’s pretty hard. But I will say I’m proud of the path I’ve taken. I deleted Instagram, and I do my best to keep conversations with friends in person rather than over the phone. So, long story short, I’m not buying the culture and you don’t have to either!
“Money is not a substitute for tenderness, and power is not a substitute for tenderness. I can tell you, as I’m sitting here dying, when you most need it, neither money nor power will give you the feeling you’re looking for, no matter how much of them you have.”
Everyone has heard the saying “money can’t buy happiness.” I often wonder how many of us actually believe that. We’re all at UCLA, working tirelessly so that we can have a stable career to support ourselves. In this economy, we really don’t have much of a choice. Sometimes, though, when I’m having dinner with my friends and I’m laughing so hard that my stomach hurts, or I’m on the phone with my family back home, I’m reminded that these are what matter the most. The people in our lives are infinitely more valuable than any one grade we earn. When we look back on our college years, none of us will be wishing we spent more hours in the library studying or that we added that extra course to our workload during winter quarter. It will be the people who were by our sides these four years. It will be our families at home who were always welcoming us with a warm hug and a home-cooked meal. All of this tenderness, as Morrie puts it, is irreplaceable.
Now, for good measure, let me leave you with one final word from Morrie.
“Be compassionate,” Morrie whispered. “And take responsibility for each other. If we only learned those lessons, this world would be so much a better place.”
