This is gonna be one of my rare longer posts, I think.

When I was flying back from Hong Kong, we had a transfer on Dubai and had to wait a couple of hours. Everyone had just had a long 8 hour flight and the foresight of 6 more hours in the steel cage that is long-distance flight meant that everyone felt tired. It was in that foggy moment that one of the teachers, probably twice my age, asked two questions that I've been thinking about lately.

"How did you stay so interested and active all week, veen" and "what are your ambitions?"

The first question surprised me. Looking back, I was always active. I've been running around a world city for a week, only releasing my fatigue when my bed was in sight. Why shouldn't I? Spending a week in an amazing place halfway across the world, if that doesn't give you energy I don't know what will. Similar to that Bill Watterson quote from a few days ago: the mind is like a car battery, it recharges while running.

But then it struck me: I was one of the few who enjoyed all of it.

For instance, on one of the last evenings I got some people to join me to go to Mong Kok. The neighbourhood was a festival of neon / led lights, busy beyond measure and as lively as it gets. We got some dinner in one of the small, family-owned restaurants there. I enjoyed the fuck out of that. Not just the first half hour, like most of my peers. They liked what they were seeing as much as I was, no doubt about that, but it was a state of wonder that faded away. No, I wanted to enjoy every moment because I knew it was a unique experience. I might never see this again, at least not this way.

And I think the same goes for life in general. It's a unique experience, and I want to make the best of it. I want to be interested, fascinated, enthralled, because I know it won't last. And it gives me more energy to enjoy life, to have amazing experiences.

Maybe the difference between myself and my peers was a strong sense of appreciation. I asked one of the others what they thought of the city. He said that it had become normal rather quickly. I understand him, it's in human nature to adapt quickly to new environments. I purposefully resisted that urge, giving myself a mental slap in the face every now and then: you're on the other side of the world looking at a vastly different way of living and enjoying, look around and enjoy it! I couldn't have enjoyed it if I didn't continuously realize how interesting and amazing it all was.

The same goes for my 'regular' life here. But it's much harder to appreciate it all, as it seems so normal to me. Yet I could barely be more happy than I am now. I study in the field that I like, enjoy an honorary programme for some more challenging courses, have multiple great groups of friends and live in a nice apartment.

But back to the airport. While the first question was asked to me, the second one he asked to the group. Some of them shrugged. Most of them didn't really have a plan but a short term one. Improvising their way through life. It is a very practical approach, but not one that gets you very far, I think.

Daniel Burham, the American urban planner, once said graciously:

Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood and probably themselves will not be realized.

Make big plans; aim high in hope and work, remembering that a noble, logical diagram once recorded will never die,

but long after we are gone will be a living thing, asserting itself with ever growing insistency.

So I want to become the best version of myself that is possible. I want to make the large amount of years that lie before me the best that I can. Every year a better than the last. While I know that is influenced by tons of factors outside of my control, it doesn't stop me from chasing every opportunity on my path.