I used to hate my philosophy degree. Especially after I graduated, struggling to find work, I loathed the fact that I studied philosophy, and why? Because in all honesty, when you’re that kind of person, your life is, as my mum says, “written in italics“. Life is never easy, but studying the humanities will simply emphasise your whole human experience: the joys of it are beyond telling, the tribulations are evermore wearying, and the blunders are crippling—though, as I say this, I realise everybody has experiences like these. However, if, like me, you don’t have an “off-switch”, I’ve found that philosophy can endow you with an uncanny ability to theorise your own emotions. For these reasons, I resented it. Life without it looked so much simpler. My life is written in italics, and I long wished for it to be otherwise.

So it was that I came to enrol in a business program at a college after I was done my undergrad. I felt quite fed up with the way that I am. But just before my courses started, I had the pleasure to go to a young leadership retreat as part of my alma mater’s catholic chaplaincy. While there, I listened to a sermon give by one of the bishops in our diocese, who reflected on the parable of the talents: one man was given ten and made twenty; another was given five and made ten; and the last of the three men was given one single talent and buried it. For this, the first two were praised while the last was condemned: “As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Mt 25:30) Hearing this, I wondered, “Which one am I?”

I didn’t last very long in my business program. My grades were fine, but it seemed to go against the grain of my soul. That choice to bury whatever talent I have in favour of something more practical, conventional, and (God forbid) “sensible” precipitated a very difficult time in my life. Eventually I realised that I’d made a mistake, and applied to my MDiv program where I definitely feel more at home. So, to compare my experience to the “gnashing of teeth” would be a tad dramatic, but that doesn’t mean there were no scars. I didn’t accept many of the talents and graces I’d been given, and I learned a hellish lesson that it is important to make peace with who you are. That’s not to say we can’t improve, but that God calls us to be exceptionally ourselves, whether or not it seems “sensible” to do otherwise, so let your life be written in italics. After all:

There is no great genius without a touch of madness.

Attributed to Aristotle by Seneca the Younger (Tranq. 9.17.10)