Duke Engage Changes You

“Duke Engage changes you.” That’s what we were told repeatedly during Duke Engage Academy in May, yet at that point I did not quite understand what it was supposed to mean. Roughly two months later, I can relate. So I would like to use this blog post to reflect on one of the multiple ways in which this trip has helped me to embrace a new way of living and thinking.

Last Saturday, AK, Feiyi, and I decided to watch the sunset from Signal Hill, a common destination for romantic rendezvous, family picnics, and other friendly get-togethers. The hill is situated in a way that you see the full width of the ocean in front of you, the sun slowly descending, marking the end of another day for Cape Town while simultaneously symbolizing a new beginning elsewhere. The tranquility of the ocean is beautifully juxtaposed with the business of downtown Cape Town to the far right of the scenery. We were surrounded by all kinds of different people: a group of girls from the University of Iowa posing for very interesting sunset pictures, a cuddling couple further down the hill, a mixed group of South African students to our right, and about a hundred other people from all corners of the world. I loved the notion of all of us being in the same place but for very different reasons; we would eventually all part and most likely never cross paths again, yet in that very moment we all enjoyed the same beautiful atmosphere, marveling at the different shades of orange, red, and blue colors at the horizon, devoid of clouds, with the crescent moon up to the right.

The plan was to call an uber in order to get back to the B&B, go out for dinner, and get a good night of sleep afterwards – getting up every day at 5:30 to go to the gym with AK certainly takes a toll on me during the day, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. As many of us, I’d describe myself as a very routine-driven, organized, and structured person who finds comfort and security in being able to somewhat control what happens every day. While this is a valuable skill when it comes to managing the workload at Duke or pursuing my love for sports and activity, it is also limiting in that you virtually only get what you planned for and miss out on everything else. But I never realized the extent to which I limited myself through rigid scheduling and planning prior to this trip, where all my favorite moments were those that I didn’t anticipate, that happened by coincidence, by simply going about my day without a clear goal or ‘next destination.’ One of those experiences took place that evening on Signal Hill.

As the colors slowly faded into darkness and the temperatures dropped, we ended our romantic sunset party and collected our belongings, when AK suddenly shouted: “Oh no! You guys! My battery is at 1%, and I don’t have any signal!” At first, you might think this was the typical sentence you’d here from someone our age, the generation tied to their phones 24/7 and interacting more frequently with people in the virtual than in the real world. But no. This was actually quite serious, because we were relatively far from the B&B and completely reliant on calling an uber to return home. AK being the only person in our little group with data on her phone, her inability to request the service meant that we were stuck on Signal Hill. Since there wasn’t much else we could do, we decided to approach the group of South African students and kindly ask them to call us an uber using their phone (with us paying them in cash). Since we hadn’t really interacted with them prior to our unfortunate situation, we were a bit worried about their response, but our concerns turned out to be completely unfounded. The guys told us not to worry and promised to call us an uber, but under one condition: we’d have to enjoy the last minutes of this beautiful scenery with them until it was completely dark. Alright, we said, that sounds like a good deal to us. Once again I found myself so positively surprised about how easy it is to meet people in this country. So we sat down on the picnic blanket, but rather than leaving ten minutes later as expected, we ended up chatting, listening to music, and exchanging life stories for about another hour and a half. Time flew by, people around us disappeared, and we had the biggest jol (South African slang for ‘having a good time.’) While they went to the same high school together, the six of them now study at different universities in Johannesburg and Pretoria, but manage to stay close to each other nevertheless. They were in Cape Town for a week as a fare-well trip for one of their friends, Jono, who will be doing his Master in London. I ended up talking to one of the guys, Nick, about a range of topics, from law school and our mutual passion for field hockey, to what it’s like to be a born-free in South Africa, to his racial experience here and elsewhere as a South African of Indian descent. It was one of those moments where you just completely forget where you are, what time it is, what is about to happen the next day, and you are truly, truly present in the moment – which we aren’t, most of the time.

Since we got along so well and enjoyed each other’s company a lot, we happily said we’d meet up with them again after dinner for some music and South African wine – and we had the most amazing night of the entire trip, full of joy, laughter, and a sense of carefreeness I had rarely experienced before. Once again – unplanned, unexpected, and unbelievably gleeful.

Sunday morning, we continued where we had left off (in terms of just ‘going with the flow’ and taking everything as it comes, without any strict planning or scheduling) and hiked Skeleton Gorge, which was one of the most beautiful trails I’ve ever hiked in my entire life. Thanks to my parents and their passion for outdoor activities, I’ve been fortunate to reach the top of various mountains already, and found myself mesmerized by the beautiful scenery of the Alps in South Tyrol, Italy, or that of Mt. Fuji, Japan. So Sunday, I added Skeleton Gorge to the list of places that make your heart and soul smile. The first half of the hike is a steady slog uphill, where you pass through a beautiful indigenous forest with the river quietly flowing next to you. Yet climbing up the Gorge is actually quite tricky, with steep wooden ladders and loose river stones to negotiate as you crisscross your way to the top. Every once in a while, Feiyi needed us to support her both morally and physically (shout-out to you, Feiyi!) but the three of us managed to climb the waterfall in a decent time and eventually got clear of the trees. Once we reached the top of the Gorge, it took us another five minutes until we got to our final destination, a water reservoir on top of Table Mountain, which is famous for it’s rainbow-colored water. No pictures or words could adequately capture the beauty of this place and we were truly speechless as we sat down on the beach (yes, there’s a beach), unpacked our lunch, dipped our feet in the water, and took a deep breath. It was around two o’clock, the sun warmed our skin while the wind created tiny waves in the water. When I felt so in harmony with and amidst nature, I experienced one of those rare moments in which you realize you are alive. It’s a state of harmony that is both complex and holistic, when your body, your mind, and your emotions are all in sync, and you completely forget the passage of time – one of the dimensions governing our lives and often preventing us from enjoying who and what is right in front us. 

While the evening on Signal Hill and the hike at Skeleton Gorge might merely represent two enjoyable undertakings for some, they meant a lot more than that to me. Within less than 24 hours, I had two quite mind-altering experiences, both heavily centered around the virtue of spontaneity – and I deliberately use the word virtue here.

When I realized how much happiness I felt from laughing with strangers on Signal Hill and enjoying nature’s wonders, all of which was devoid of planning and expectations, I had to ask myself: Why am I so adamant about planning every aspect of my life? Why am I exercising so much control over my life when, in fact, the moments I feel most balanced, at ease, and genuinely happy are those that I did not plan for or anticipate?

If you think about it, our way of being has little relation to or harmony with the great biological rhythms; what we are doing is paradoxical in that we have this strange desire for certainty and security, yet we live in a universe whose very nature is fluidity and momentariness. Our excessive exercise of self-control, planning, and structuring is in immediate conflict with the place we inhabit. I realized this more than ever before. I believe my way of going about my life was all about creating security and anticipating change, because change and uncertainty is what we fear most. This similarly applies to goal-setting. Especially at a place like Duke, you have to constantly be armed with a go-to answer to the question: “So, what are you doing after graduation?” You are often expected to have it all laid out already. Oh, what? You don’t already know what graduate school you’ll go to, who you’ll be employed by, who you’ll marry, what car you’ll drive, what organization you will start, and how you will leave your mark in the great history of mankind? Oh… ok.

Our strong tendencies for goal-setting seem to be motivated by the discomfort of uncertainty. It’s not knowing what will happen once we are done with one chapter of our lives, that makes us plan ahead for the future. Sadly, this often leads us to completely forget about the present moment we live in.

The more happiness I get from moments like the ones I described above, the more I come to question how we go about our lives. When change is a fact, yet we want the opposite, are we setting ourselves up to fail? And by failure, I don’t mean failure in the materialistic sense. Sure, vigorous planning, self-control, and goal-setting will probably ensure that you will complete a nice list of achievements within the nice bubble we all know as our comfort-zone. What I refer to, rather, is a failure to be happy. Because at the end of the day, how we spend our days is how we spend our lives. Reflecting on my moments of seriously unprecedented carefreeness and genuine joy, I feel how much I have been conditioned into believing that the way to achieve my goals is through reasoning, contemplation, and conscious effort, when really happiness comes through the effortless way of being in the world – just as I tried to explain in my two scenarios this weekend. The moments I didn’t plan for, the times I wasn’t excessively trying, are those that fulfilled me. Yet my often excessive focus on the power of self-control and conscious structuring made me overlook the beauty that flows from situations that have little or no conscious underlying effort at all.

One thing that has always been fascinating to me is the idea that hundreds or even thousands of people enter your life, your little circle, at some point and leave right after. All but a few of our interactions with other people are momentary and temporary. Most people come and go, and only a few stay permanently. Yet that doesn’t mean that those who disappear as quickly as they appeared cannot have a profound impact on you. Those South African students probably have little idea of the profound impact our evening had on me.

My father started a blog called ‘Red Stains’ not too long ago in which he shares his personal life-changing and character-building experiences. He instilled into me the importance of consciously reflecting on the people, interactions, and events that make you believe, say, think, or act the way you do and of truly understanding the person you are. If your eyes aren’t tired after reading this post, you should pour yourself another glass of wine or cup of tea and continue reading here.

While I’d describe the evening we had with the South African guys as profoundly impactful yet likely unique in the sense that they will probably be one of the people that enter and exit my life, I know for certain that I found two friends in AK and Feiyi that will stay, or at least that is what I wish for. The reason I end the post like this is that both AK and Feiyi truly embrace the virtue of spontaneity I discovered to be so invaluable during this trip. And the various moments that made me question my prior approach to life, all those moments that were beautifully pure, uncalculated, and unexpected, I shared with both of them. AK is probably the most spontaneous person I’ve ever met. If a window of only two hours suddenly opens up on a day that was supposed to be entirely planned by our program director, it’s AK who jumps up and says “Guys! Let’s climb Lion’s Head!” I didn’t know AK prior to this trip, yet from the very beginning of our stay in Johannesburg I felt a previously rather unfamiliar sense that I could trust and open up to her; way quicker than usually. The more time I spent with her, and got to experience her wonderful character, driven by spontaneity and intuition, I came to understand why I feel this sense of ‘blind trust’ with her (and Feiyi); becoming close friends with both of them made me realize that spontaneity can imply trustworthiness, because you cannot fake spontaneity. Having a spontaneous nature intuitively makes people more authentic and thus trustworthy. At least that’s what my experience has been. So, lots of intrinsic value in being spontaneous!

Going back home to Germany, back to Duke eventually, and just in general, moving forward, I hope to take these experiences and revelations and translate them into whatever setting I’m in. It doesn’t mean not to set any goals, ever, or to suddenly ‘wing’ every aspect of life. What it means for me is simply to embrace the notion that, all too often, less is more.