Here is the essay:
Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
Every night, I shower like everyone else, except for one notable difference: the shower knob is dialed all the way to the blue, a cold shower. There's a soft drumming of water droplets hitting the ground that seems to warn me away. I'm shivering already, but I take a deep breath and push myself into the frozen rain. A blast of icy water hits me. It's cold. It's very cold. The shower is a series of struggles: my muscles tense up and my teeth clatter, but this is my fight.
Nothing, such as a health condition, forces me to take these showers-I'm the only one forcing myself. My evening ritual spurred from a simple realization: all my life, I have lived in a bubble of pleasure. If I was hungry, I would grab McDonald's. If I was bored, I would play on my Xbox. If I was lonely, I would watch Netflix. Every day was a hazy dream because I only did what made me happy. I grew overweight and socially anxious, living only to indulge my insatiable search for pleasure. Slowly, I became aware of what was going on, and I knew that if I kept this up any longer, I won't get to live the life I want to live. That's what this struggle was all about. In a world plagued by the pursuit of pleasure, I had forgotten how to deal with discomfort. Now, I can remember.
These showers have shown me the way. As the first brick laid to build Rome, I recreate myself. Again and again, I throw myself into the freezing water, hoping to walk out stronger. Each icy droplet that splashes onto me is an awakening. It goes against every fibre of my being to step into that shower. The very thought of the cold makes me shiver. Of course, it's instinct to avoid discomfort, but I seek it anyway because I don't want to follow my primal instinct anymore. I want to conquer it, to bend it to my will. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not avoiding this pain anymore.
"The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart.
One must imagine Sisyphus happy."
― Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus
Like Sisyphus pushing his rock up the mountain only for it to roll back down, I am locked into a constant daily struggle as well. As the water lands on my bare skin, my struggle begins. Right here, right now, my battle takes place. I resist the temptation to dial the shower knob into the red, to give in and to sedate myself with something more comforting. At that moment as I embrace discomfort and push through, I feel a new power.
Each drop of that ice cold water comes to life. In the shower, I fight shivers and the constant desire to turn the dial in the opposite direction. In life, I fight discomfort and the constant desire to return to my comfort zone. This was the struggle I've avoided but now I wanted to take it head on. Even better, my increased resistance to discomfort has helped me beyond the bathroom. Pushing myself into the cold was the same force that pushed me to start my school's first Programming Club or to Skype with a professor for a research opportunity. It pushes me to try out new things and to keep on going. Every day, the shower serves to remind me that I must make a choice: warm or cold?
Ultimately, my showers and I, like Sisyphus and his rock, produce no tangible results. But also like Sisyphus, the struggle is enough to keep me content. It's about looking adversity in the eye and smiling. It's about enduring whatever life throws our way. But for now, this is where we take our stand, Sisyphus beneath the mountain and I beneath the shower head.
Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
The Testing of the Blade
Every night, I shower like everyone else, except for one notable difference: the shower knob is dialed all the way to the blue, a cold shower. There's a soft drumming of water droplets hitting the ground that seems to warn me away. I'm shivering already, but I take a deep breath and push myself into the frozen rain. A blast of icy water hits me. It's cold. It's very cold. The shower is a series of struggles: my muscles tense up and my teeth clatter, but this is my fight.
Nothing, such as a health condition, forces me to take these showers-I'm the only one forcing myself. My evening ritual spurred from a simple realization: all my life, I have lived in a bubble of pleasure. If I was hungry, I would grab McDonald's. If I was bored, I would play on my Xbox. If I was lonely, I would watch Netflix. Every day was a hazy dream because I only did what made me happy. I grew overweight and socially anxious, living only to indulge my insatiable search for pleasure. Slowly, I became aware of what was going on, and I knew that if I kept this up any longer, I won't get to live the life I want to live. That's what this struggle was all about. In a world plagued by the pursuit of pleasure, I had forgotten how to deal with discomfort. Now, I can remember.
These showers have shown me the way. As the first brick laid to build Rome, I recreate myself. Again and again, I throw myself into the freezing water, hoping to walk out stronger. Each icy droplet that splashes onto me is an awakening. It goes against every fibre of my being to step into that shower. The very thought of the cold makes me shiver. Of course, it's instinct to avoid discomfort, but I seek it anyway because I don't want to follow my primal instinct anymore. I want to conquer it, to bend it to my will. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not avoiding this pain anymore.
"The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart.
One must imagine Sisyphus happy."
― Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus
Like Sisyphus pushing his rock up the mountain only for it to roll back down, I am locked into a constant daily struggle as well. As the water lands on my bare skin, my struggle begins. Right here, right now, my battle takes place. I resist the temptation to dial the shower knob into the red, to give in and to sedate myself with something more comforting. At that moment as I embrace discomfort and push through, I feel a new power.
Each drop of that ice cold water comes to life. In the shower, I fight shivers and the constant desire to turn the dial in the opposite direction. In life, I fight discomfort and the constant desire to return to my comfort zone. This was the struggle I've avoided but now I wanted to take it head on. Even better, my increased resistance to discomfort has helped me beyond the bathroom. Pushing myself into the cold was the same force that pushed me to start my school's first Programming Club or to Skype with a professor for a research opportunity. It pushes me to try out new things and to keep on going. Every day, the shower serves to remind me that I must make a choice: warm or cold?
Ultimately, my showers and I, like Sisyphus and his rock, produce no tangible results. But also like Sisyphus, the struggle is enough to keep me content. It's about looking adversity in the eye and smiling. It's about enduring whatever life throws our way. But for now, this is where we take our stand, Sisyphus beneath the mountain and I beneath the shower head.