白露為霜註:「孤獨的對立面」是耶魯才女Marina Keegan為2012年畢業典禮寫的一篇散文。畢業典禮之後剛幾天的5月26日,Keegan與同學到麻薩諸塞州的Cape Cod去玩。路上開車的男孩失控,汽車撞上欄杆又翻滾兩次。男孩活了下來,Keegan卻香消玉殞。年僅22歲。
每次讀到這篇文章總讓我心疼不已。Keegan是如此才華橫溢,前途是如此光明,悲劇卻突然降臨。為什麼會這樣呢?人們在問,卻沒有答案。她如果還活著,應該同我的孩子差不多大。
2014年4月,Keegan的一系列遺作被整理出版。「孤獨的對立面」一文是同名書的開篇文。
在中文裡,孤獨的對立面是有一個詞的,那就是「同在」。Keegan提到在大學里這種美好的同在的感受,對未來的難以言說的恐懼,以及不應該失去這種無所不能的感覺,都是非常真實和有洞察力的。
如果你不知道「同在」一詞怎麼用,這裡是一個例句:耶和華我在天的父,有你同在,我必不孤獨。
孤獨的對立面
Marina Keegan (翻譯:白露為霜)
我們沒有一個詞來表達孤獨的對立面,但如果有的話,可以說這就是我在人生中想要的。這就是我很感激地在耶魯大學發現的,同時當我們明天醒來離開這個地方之後又是我擔心失去的。
它並不完全是愛,也不完全是社團,它只是這種感覺:人,很多的人,為某件事情在一起。這些人是你的隊友。當賬單已付,可你還留在桌邊。當已經是凌晨4點,卻沒人去睡覺。那個吉他當歌的晚上;那個我們記不清了的晚上;我們做了,我們去了,我們看了,我們笑了,我們感受到了的時候。
耶魯到處是我們在自己身邊圍成的小圈子。無伴奏合唱隊,運動隊,寢室,社團,俱樂部。這些微小的群體使我們感受到愛,平安,是團體中的一員。即使在我們最孤獨的夜晚,當我們蹣跚來到電腦跟前 - 沒有同伴,疲倦不堪卻腦袋清醒。我們明年將不會有這些。我們所有的朋友不會都住在一起。我們將不會發一堆群組簡訊。
這讓我恐懼。相比起找到合適的工作或城市或配偶 - 我更怕失去這個網路,這個難以捉摸,難以言傳的,孤獨的對立面。我現在體驗到的這種感覺。
但是我們得弄清一件事:我們生活中最好的年頭不是在我們身後。他們是我們的一部分,他們將重複出現,當我們長大搬到紐約,或搬離紐約,以及希望我們住在或者沒有住在紐約。我打算在我30歲時開派對,我打算在我老了的時候做有意思的事情。任何最好的年頭的概念來自於陳詞濫調「我應該做...」,「假如我做...」,「希望我做了...」。
當然,有些事情我們真的希望自己做了:讀更多的書,大廳對面的那個男孩。我們是自己的最嚴厲的批評者,我們很容易讓自己失望。睡覺睡過頭,拖拖拉拉,偷工減料。我不止一次看著高中自我而想:我是怎麼做的呢?我怎麼會如此賣力?我們個人的不安全感跟隨著我們,也將始終跟隨我們。
但事實上我們都是這樣的。沒有人是在他想要醒來時就醒來。沒有人會把他該閱讀的書都讀完(也許除了那些得獎的瘋子之外...)我們有這些不可能的高標準,我們也許永遠也不會實現有關我們自己未來的完美幻想。但我覺得也這沒啥關係。
我們如此年輕,這樣年輕。我們只有二十二歲。我們還有很多時間。有一種情緒,我有時會感覺到,匍匐在集體的潛意識中,當我們在舞會之後獨自躺著或收拾起自己的書籍走出去:現在為時已晚。別人已經走到前頭,更有成就,更加精專。在拯救世界的路上走的更遠,正以某種方式創造,發明,改進。現在起始一個新的開端已經太晚了,我們只好選擇延續而不是開始。
當我們初到耶魯的時候,有一種一切皆是可能的感覺。這種巨大的不可名狀的潛在能量 – 我們可以很容易地感受到它偷偷地溜走了。我們以前從未必須做出選擇,突然間我們不得不這樣。我們中有些人很專註。這些人知道他們想要什麼,並且走在得到它的道路上; 已經考上了醫學院,在做研究,在一個完美的非政府組織(NGO)工作。對他們我要說的是:祝賀你,同時,你真太糟糕了。
然而對於大多數人來說,我們迷失在博雅教育(liberal arts education)的海洋里。不太知道自己走在哪條路上,或是否應該走這條路。假如我是學生物學專業...假如我在新鮮人時就參與新聞采寫...假如我想到申請這或申請那...
我們一定要記住的是:我們仍然可以做任何事情。我們可以改變主意。我們可以從頭來起。拿一個第二學位或第一次嘗試寫作。做某事情為時已晚的概念是滑稽的,太搞笑了。我們剛剛大學畢業,我們這麼年輕。我們不能也決不應該失去這種無所不能的感覺,因為說到底,它就是我們所擁有的一切。
在我大一冬季的一個星期五的晚上,我在同朋友通話后感到茫然和困惑,去EST EST EST去找他們。茫然而困惑,我開始跋涉去SSS,大概算校園的最遠點。奇怪的是,直到我差不多到了門口,才想起來懷疑為什麼我的朋友們會在耶魯的行政大樓里聚會。當然,他們沒有。天很冷,我的ID卡不知何故可以使用,所以我走進SSS大樓並拿出我的電話來。樓很安靜,木地板吱吱作響,隱約可以看見彩色玻璃外的雪。我坐了下來,再抬起頭看。在這個巨大的房間里,在我之前有數以千記的人坐過的地方,獨自一人,在紐黑文的風暴之夜,我感覺到的是奇特而難以置信的平安。
我們沒有一個詞來表達孤獨的對立面,但如果有的話,我會說這就是我在耶魯的感覺。這就是我現在所體驗到的。在這裡,與大傢伙在一起。彼此相愛,留下印象,為之謙卑,為之恐懼。我們不應該失去這些。
我們因此而在一起,2012屆的畢業生。讓我們為這個世界做些事情。
The Opposite of Loneliness
We don』t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I could say that』s what I want in life. What I』m grateful and thankful to have found at Yale, and what I』m scared of losing when we wake up tomorrow and leave this place.
It』s not quite love and it』s not quite community; it』s just this feeling that there are people, an abundance of people, who are in this together. Who are on your team. When the check is paid and you stay at the table. When it』s four a.m. and no one goes to bed. That night with the guitar. That night we can』t remember. That time we did, we went, we saw, we laughed, we felt.
Yale is full of tiny circles we pull around ourselves. A cappella groups, sports teams, houses, societies, clubs. These tiny groups that make us feel loved and safe and part of something even on our loneliest nights when we stumble home to our computers — partner-less, tired, awake. We won』t have those next year. We won』t live on the same block as all our friends. We won』t have a bunch of group-texts.
This scares me. More than finding the right job or city or spouse – I』m scared of losing this web we』re in. This elusive, indefinable, opposite of loneliness. This feeling I feel right now.
But let us get one thing straight: the best years of our lives are not behind us. They』re part of us and they are set for repetition as we grow up and move to New York and away from New York and wish we did or didn』t live in New York. I plan on having parties when I』m 30. I plan on having fun when I』m old. Any notion of THE BEST years comes from clichéd 「should haves...」 「if I』d...」 「wish I』d...」
Of course, there are things we wished we did: our readings, that boy across the hall. We』re our own hardest critics and it』s easy to let ourselves down. Sleeping too late. Procrastinating. Cutting corners. More than once I』ve looked back on my High School self and thought: how did I do that? How did I work so hard? Our private insecurities follow us and will always follow us.
But the thing is, we』re all like that. Nobody wakes up when they want to. Nobody did all of their reading (except maybe the crazy people who win the prizes…) We have these impossibly high standards and we』ll probably never live up to our perfect fantasies of our future selves. But I feel like that』s okay.
We』re so young. We』re so young. We』re twenty-two years old. We have so much time. There』s this sentiment I sometimes sense, creeping in our collective conscious as we lay alone after a party, or pack up our books when we give in and go out – that it is somehow too late. That others are somehow ahead. More accomplished, more specialized. More on the path to somehow saving the world, somehow creating or inventing or improving. That it』s too late now to BEGIN a beginning and we must settle for continuance, for commencement.
When we came to Yale, there was this sense of possibility. This immense and indefinable potential energy – and it』s easy to feel like that』s slipped away. We never had to choose and suddenly we』ve had to. Some of us have focused ourselves. Some of us know exactly what we want and are on the path to get it; already going to med school, working at the perfect NGO, doing research. To you I say both congratulations and you suck.
For most of us, however, we』re somewhat lost in this sea of liberal arts. Not quite sure what road we』re on and whether we should have taken it. If only I had majored in biology…if only I』d gotten involved in journalism as a freshman…if only I』d thought to apply for this or for that…
What we have to remember is that we can still do anything. We can change our minds. We can start over. Get a post-bac or try writing for the first time. The notion that it』s too late to do anything is comical. It』s hilarious. We』re graduating college. We』re so young. We can』t, we MUST not lose this sense of possibility because in the end, it』s all we have.
In the heart of a winter Friday night my freshman year, I was dazed and confused when I got a call from my friends to meet them at EST EST EST. Dazedly and confusedly, I began trudging to SSS, probably the point on campus farthest away. Remarkably, it wasn』t until I arrived at the door that I questioned how and why exactly my friends were partying in Yale』s administrative building. Of course, they weren』t. But it was cold and my ID somehow worked so I went inside SSS to pull out my phone. It was quiet, the old wood creaking and the snow barely visible outside the stained glass. And I sat down. And I looked up. At this giant room I was in. At this place where thousands of people had sat before me. And alone, at night, in the middle of a New Haven storm, I felt so remarkably, unbelievably safe.
We don』t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I』d say that』s how I feel at Yale. How I feel right now. Here. With all of you. In love, impressed, humbled, scared. And we don』t have to lose that.
We』re in this together, 2012. Let』s make something happen to this world.