“The greatest battles of life are fought out every day in the silent chambers of one’s own soul.” – David O. McKay

Man, the world has problems. In the year 2050, society will look back at our generation and forever shun us for three things: climate change, the war in Iraq, and Aviator sunglasses. How could they let those things happen? How could they have actually stood by and let those things happen? Having grown up in post-apartheid South Africa, it’s a question I’ve always asked myself. How on earth was that allowed to happen for so long? Didn’t the rest of the world realise what we were going through? Didn’t they care?

That question has become increasingly relevant in daily varsity life. Ever since the beginning of term, there’s been a general sense of despondency among my classmates. I guess we’ve all grown a little tired of the dreary world of accounting and what look set to be rather dreary lives ahead of us. And being reminded of this fact five days a week by oft-annoying lecturers isn’t helping.

Everyone’s dealt with that in different ways. Some have convinced themselves (rightly or otherwise) that a career as a corporate automaton, working twelve-hour days plus weekends, is a prospect they’re excited to pursue. Others have simply decided that after almost four years, it’s a little late for second thoughts. They might as well accept their fate.

And then there are those who are doing something else altogether. They’ve decided that enough is enough. They want out and they want out now. They’ve chosen to bypass post-grad and either take a detour overseas or head straight into the wonderful world of work. They’ve chosen to do the unthinkable by listening to that inner voice and hope it leads them to brighter days.

There’s a lesson in there I’m finally starting to understand. Yes, the world has problems, but all those can wait. The biggest problem we have is letting problems become problems in the first place. The biggest problem we have is allowing small concerns to slowly morph into crises; so much so that we’re constantly caught off-guard by what we thought would never happen.

All around us, the evidence is clear. We pretend the problems we have don’t exist. We sweep them under the rug to deal with another day or engage in just enough “quiet diplomacy” (um, oxymoron?) to assuage our guilt. We take part in flash mobs or water balloon fights on campus even though we’re barely passing our courses. We pretend to be happy in our jobs or in our relationships even though we’re secretly dying inside. But of course it’s okay because the last thing we want to do is change.

We do whatever we can to cover up the pain because feeling uncomfortable is something to be avoided at all costs. Sometimes it’s necessary to laugh at our problems, but sometimes it’s not. Sometimes we don’t want to see the fuzzy panda bears at the end of the every news bulletin or have the good guy win yet again. That’s just not the way life is and it’s time we came to terms with that reality.

This world can be quite a dark place and believing otherwise is the most dangerous thing we can do. We all have problems and we all have pain. But instead of ignoring what makes us uncomfortable, we need to embrace it. Instead of reaching for the medicine cabinet or putting Band-Aids over flesh wounds, we need to roll up our sleeves and get our hands dirty. The pain is telling us that things need to change. It’s telling us that ignoring the issue will only make it worse. That’s just the way it is. Deal with it.

(Eugene Yiga is the editor of Varsity Blah and his latest book is available free, exclusively from www.varsityblah.com/about)

“All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life are made up of light and shade.” – Leo Tolstoy

Ah, birthdays. They’re the one time each year the world is forced to acknowledge our existence via text messages and/or meaningful gifts. Naturally, they’re something we all look forward to and turning 21 is something I couldn’t wait to do. It would be a Friday, which meant there were no worries about staying up late. It would also be the last day of term, which meant I could really party guilt-free. It would be perfect.

Well, that’s what I thought. Sadly for me, I made the mistake of listening to a few too many cooks (or is that kooks?) tell me what my birthday was supposed to be like instead of taking the time to make up my own mind. All I wanted was a simple night out with my friends; nothing entirely fancy or over the top. But everyone else felt I needed to turn the occasion into something super-special. It had to be huge, lest I regret it for the rest of my life.

And so came the planning. First, I had to pick a venue not so “la-di-dah” it would make anyone uncomfortable but also not so regular that our drinks risked getting spiked. Once that was established came deciding on a menu that would cater to everyone’s taste while keeping me out of sequestration. And finally, I had to create a guest list intimate enough to avoid me neglecting any one person but diverse enough so no sub-clique would reign supreme. It was turning into a diplomatic nightmare akin to the seating arrangements at the U.N.

In the end, my big night out was a monumental flop; not because it was a particularly shoddy shindig (or because only four people showed up). It simply didn’t measure up to my expectations. Having a lofty idea of what to expect meant whatever little thing didn’t quite fit into the grand plan detracted from the night. I couldn’t appreciate all the well wishes and free drinks because they simply didn’t matter. Instead, I was fixated on the slow service at the restaurant and a surprisingly scarce dance floor after that. I lost the plot entirely.

I managed to, um, “walk” away from that experience having learned three things. Firstly, with unrealistic expectations, disappointment comes standard. Secondly, too much sushi means no room for cheesecake. And finally, listening to other people isn’t always in our best interest. To them, turning 21 was about going out, getting wasted, and waking up the next day to live yet another year as the exact same person. That just wasn’t me.

To me, birthdays have always meant something different and turning 21 was no exception. This was the perfect time for me to look back at my life and appreciate how far I’d come. It was the perfect time for me to acknowledge who I was and be grateful for all the experiences that had ultimately come to define me. It was about looking forward to life as a fully-fledged adult instead of stressing over a stupid theme.

In any case, my life went on. It felt great to wake up knowing I’d be starting a whole new chapter in my life. It was also great to finally decide that letting other people influence me like that would not be something I’d allow to happen anymore. I’d listen to what they had to say but ultimately make up my own mind. Life’s too short to spend pleasing people who think they know you and are constantly bent on telling you what you’re “supposed” to do or how you’re “supposed” to feel. As grown-ups, we should know better.

“Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward.” – Kurt Vonnegut

(Eugene Yiga is the editor of Varsity Blah and his latest book is available free, exclusively from www.varsityblah.com/about)