Personal Statement
The brisk autumn breeze lambently swept across our faces, mingling with the faint scent of Aspercreme in the air. A hovering silence was interrupted only by the rhythmic creaking of the swinging bench as we swayed back and forth. My eyes traced along the sun's soft rays which illuminated the wrinkles etched on Abba's tanned face. Her long, callused fingers gently clutched the tinted glasses that she wore just six minutes ago, unearthing her eyes to the sun before us. The crow's feet lining her eyes darkened as she squinted onward in the light, but they could not conceal the content gleam in her eyes. Listening to her long sighs soothed me; in this unperturbed moment, the ticking time seemed to come to a still. In my world of disarray, I felt that everything peaceful, everything beautiful, had blended into a harmonious scene. I wished that such an exquisite moment would not dissipate.
Having come miles away from Seoul, South Korea, my great-aunt and I stood two worlds and two generations apart from each other. Sixty-four years had accustomed her to the native Korean tongue of my ancestors while I, a second-generation Korean American, embraced the English that had long shaped my own speech. Awkward pauses would amplify into lingering silence after our speech, disjunctive lingua franca of Kingfish, ultimately left us lost in translation. With an impenetrable language barrier between us, we should have been perfect strangers at a loss of words. I realized that it was in this familiar quiescence where I learned to admire her most.
Within my daily world of complexity, rationalization, and society's outspoken voices, Abba taught me to appreciate the smaller, often conspicuous treasures of my lifetime. In our sequestered world of quiet, we would escape the cold stringencies of reality to instead examine life's smaller pleasures. It was in these moments where my eclectic interests were born. Listening to the daily reruns of her music cassettes, my ears learned to admire anything the guttural voice of Pavarotti to the galvanizing music of Andrew Lloyd Weber. Our miniature expeditions to the backyard would unveil my passion for the outdoors; immersing my hands into the loamy soil, I would be tickled by the soft tendrils of the tomato plant's roots at my fingertips. But altogether, among her hand-knitted slippers, sock puppet shows, and generous hugs, I relished the warmth of her compassion, a childlike mirth that, on my rough journey towards adulthood, kept me alive.
Abba's silence ultimately proved Gestalt wrong. The whole picture painted by my seventeen years of life would not have been important, if not complete, had she not taught me to appreciate the very simplicities of life. I have come to appreciate the times of clarity, to view not only what was around me, but the smaller details which constructed timeless memories of my childhood. As I continue the family tradition of becoming a doctor, I cannot overlook supposed "trivialities" with pure logic. Complexity may elevate me on my journey towards knowledge, but it shall never obfuscate my admiration for the candid, little moments in life. For though my brain will learn to comprehend physiological processes, sophisticated technology and painstaking labor, my heart need not be equally crystallized. Rather, as Abba so profoundly showed to me, modesty, compassion for other's and a ceaseless curiosity to explore shall forever be my strength against the unknown, even the impossible.
"What am I?" I ask myself today. I am simple, though not simple-minded. Optimistic despite impending troubles. And, though no longer young at age, I will always be young at heart. Rather than absorbing myself in the abstract future alone, I now know that I must appreciate the transience of today, and await the smaller surprises which compiled into the wonders of tomorrow. The open doors of the near future beckon me forward; I understand that I will face tremendous risk, the thrills of challenges, and countless steps for profound change. But for now, I shall patiently relish in the loving simplicities of today and anticipate their permanence tomorrow. Yes, that shall be enough.
You don't need help. This is a great accomplishment. I only hope tha AO reader is not jealous of your ability to write better than the rest of us!
If I wrote this, I would include some more discussion of medicine, because that is really the "purpose" you are stating... your scholarly pursuit. But I know you alread6y sent this in, and I think it is going to be a winner.
