My Reflection Of My Personal Philosophy Of Life

1228 WordsJul 20, 20175 Pages
Philosophy of Life In my short seventeen years, I have experienced a great multitude of feelings towards my own personal experiences. My own reactions to the external circumstances that the universe has thrown at me, and I do indeed mean thrown, have allowed me to grow as a young woman and simultaneously allow me the privilege of looking at life through the lenses I wear today. Because the way I perceive my life to date is how I have been able to assemble the three things I value most in it: staying foolish, hungry and in love. Remembering the importance of these have enabled me to find both success and happiness; and I know that I am doing my future self proud by continuing to remember them. Firstly, I have always been acutely aware of…show more content…
I easily grow bored, and after the years have learned to stimulate my own mind. I enjoy setting goals for myself and find them ten percent more attainable after the goal has been set; and when I meet that goal, I set another. It is this idea of never settling, always pushing that has allowed me to blossom into the person I am today. For instance, when I found myself in the top thirty five percent of my class, I pushed myself to get to the top fifteen percent within two years. When I set my goals for college and medical school, I do not limit myself to state schools; I push for acceptance at the large private schools, too. It has become a habit of mine “To strive, to see, to find, and not to yield” (70). Just as Lord Tennyson Alfred’s Ulysses promised that he would not settle, I expect the same for myself. I refuse to settle for mediocre, and I swear to always yearn for the most out of life. I live by the idea that I must push myself the furthest every time, in order to extract any sort of meaning from my work. There is no space for easy labor in my life, but I plan to continue living a worth life living, with work worth doing. I will not subject myself to the laziness that accompanies work one does not love because “There is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor” (146). No one understands this as well as Sisyphus of Albert Camus’ “The Myth of Sisyphus” who is forced to push a rock up a hill repeatedly
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