Tuesday Talk
 

February 21, 2012

Ian Keneally

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There is something inherently satisfying in writing one's own name. It is something that we do not often like to admit, but it is a past time that is nearly universally enjoyed. Indeed almost every student in this room has likely carved their name into the worn wooden panels of their dorm room. More than likely your freshly carved name, redolent of pungent pine, is nestled among a long list of names. Names of men and women you do not know, will not meet, and do not care about. In a few years, maybe four, maybe five, your name shall enter into that world of obscurity.

We scribble, and carve, and graffiti our names not because we enjoy the process, or because the final product is ascetically pleasing. We enjoy the writing of our names because it bestows upon us a sense that even once we depart, whether it be our dorm rooms or our life, something, however small, will linger to hold a memory of us. But in truth these actions are futile. We will likely never meet anyone who reads our names. Our personalities, our character, our values, our morals, cannot be expressed in a carved name. Years in the future our names will be read with as little interest, as little recognition, as we read those adorning our rooms now. William Faulkner articulates this particularly well in his book Absalom, Absalom! He writes, "She wants it told so that people whom she will never see and whose names she will never hear and who have never heard her name nor seen her face will read it."

The truth is in 5 years no student at Cate will remember the names of the men and women behind me. In 10 years, no one will remember we ever went here. In 100 years, no one will remember the choices we made. And in 1000 years, no one will remember that we ever lived. The sum total of our actions, of our decisions, and of our lives will amount to nothing. We will live our 72.6 years on this earth, then we will become pictures in a photo album great grandchildren will feign interest for, we will become family heirlooms and mementos, perhaps we will become books. Indeed our memory may survive for some time in those mediums, but heirlooms are lost, and photos fade, and books are taken out of print, and one day, whether it be 100 years or 1000 years from now, all traces of our existence will be forgotten. If evidence of our actions will be erased in a relatively brief period of time, it simply does not matter what actions we took in life. Of course this idea has been countered by the concept of final judgment, and an omnipotent God, but if one does not believe in the ultimate authority of a heavenly body, then the decisions we make in life carry with them no permanent consequence. To put this in another way, a way perhaps Mrs. Salcedo or Mr. Smith will enjoy, our existence can be viewed as a graph. The “x” axis represents time, the “y” reflects the effects of your actions. Near the origin, during our life, there will be many ups and downs, and sudden changes. But as we take the graph to infinity, as we move farther and farther from our birth and life, the graph approaches zero. What at the time were the dramatic spikes of life, are lost. Eventually we move far enough away from our life that all that is left is a straight line at zero. All of the actions and decisions that seemed vital, indeed defining, during life are lost to the unending passage of time. To many this is a frightening or depressing concept. No one wants to be forgotten, no one wants to fade into obscurity. Everyone wants value to their lives, everyone wants to be remembered. However this concept should not be frightening, it should be freeing; it should be liberating. Because once we acknowledge the lack of meaning, the lack of consequence our lives entail, we can begin to make choices based not on societal norms, or an arbitrary code of conduct, but instead make decisions based solely on one's own desire and one's own character. To understand that traditionally "bad" or "immoral" actions carry with them no permanent consequences, and yet to still choose to do the right or moral thing, is the greatest possible validation of one's character. To comprehend that there is no material difference between helping a classmate to his feet or pushing him down yourself, and yet still choosing to help rather than hurt, is a reflection of some innate compassion or moral code within us.

So I encourage you to make decisions that make you happy, to live your life the way you choose, the way you want. Because in the end the impressions you make on others, and on this world, will be lost. In your darkest hours of despair, in your most charged moments of stress, and even on your most joyous days, take a deep breath. Tell yourself that what you do today will not matter in ten years, and that how you choose to live will not matter in 100. Remember that we are all just talking monkeys, hurtling through space on a chunk of rock. Then with these concepts in mind make the decision based on what will make you happy, what you desire. Life is far too ephemeral to be concerned with image and legacy, and those things do not exist for very long anyway. Live your life the way you choose, because in the end, you are the only one who will remember, the only one who will care.

I'd like to leave you with one of my favorite quotes. It sums up in nine words what I've been bothering you with for six minutes. "Billy the Kid, did what he did, and he died." And so too shall we. Thank you.