It is that time of year, well known as any other. April creeps upon us as we complain in shock at how swiftly February and March have passed. The sun teases us with its pleasure of warmth and we crave for more, but the prayers of the plants, trees and grass are answered as

the rain falls. It is also that time of year where society does not permit us to see the colourful blossoms appear, nor smell the morning dew after a night of drizzle, rather the exam period of this month locks us indoors like prisoners, only peering at outside, anxiously waiting for that last exam to perish.

We moan, we moan even though we know this time of year is inevitable. We regret that we started too late or that we didn’t attend enough lectures. We groan at our timetable, even though everyone else has the same timetable. We pity ourselves, in hope that someone else gives us pardon and create excuses to prepare for failure but then burn the midnight candle to avoid it. Funny how we function isn’t it?

One useful tool of the past is history. It is recorded, like a textbook, for us to learn, to avoid its mistakes and grow. Yet every year we promise ourselves that next year will be different and that we will work harder, longer hours and waste less time. In the back of our mind, we know these aren’t true, but mere consolations to the struggles we resist. And then, that day arrives, more exciting than our own birthday, the day when the sun retires its clouds and we smile, releasing all the hormones that we have been longing for – that day of freedom. We return to our desk with a recycle haven of notes and scribbles that were our worst enemies and yet our best friends. Nothing now becomes an activity, we lay down staring at the ceiling with a sensation of relief that the worst is behind me and the best is yet to come.

As we repeat these years from GCSE to A-Level, then University to PhD, the system that we had learned to hate for so long now becomes our friend. It acts as a proof that yes, you are clever, yes you are worth something and gives us a place in society. We are no longer lost with no social proof but work harder and harder for that higher grade, that title after our name to be better than the person next to me applying for that same job. That eagerness for that higher salary, higher golden handshake and we smile when we see it in our account. All this excitement for what? Money? Do we extend the corners of our minds at university for a paycheck? American history shows the death of the salesman but European history has shown the death of the Renaissance man, if you don’t know what that is, you aren’t a Renaissance man.

When you ask a 17 year old what they want to be, they will give you an uneducated answer, if you ask them what their passion is, their answer will be educated because it comes from their heart. Too many people study because of their career choice and not because of their passion and their career choice is fueled by the ideology of money not of self pleasure. So think to yourself, am I really doing what I dreamt about, slept to thoughts of it and awake with excitement to see the sunrise, if you answer is a no then ponder at what you do want – then it’s only up to you to go and find it.

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