Using the Good Silver

As I was having dinner with a close friend of mine in the thick of final exam period last semester, we — unexpectedly — found ourselves with tears of joy streaming down our faces, thawing our flushed cheeks from the frigid cold. 

I was reflecting on how much my life had changed in the past year. Only one year ago, I had been overwhelmed by uncertainty, praying desperately each night that my future might amount to something I could bear. And yet, in the span of a year, I found myself at a school nearly two thousand miles away from home, learning from remarkable professors, developing a genuine love for learning, and being surrounded by friends who make me laugh and cherish my life each day. How had I gotten so lucky?

In the midst of the chaos and anxiety that often envelop us during final exam season, it becomes easy to forget how fortunate many of us are. For most of us, our greatest source of stress is an upcoming exam, assignment, or deadline. This reality makes me think of Angelina Jolie’s acceptance speech at the 2013 Academy Awards, wherein she reflected: 

“I have never understood why some people are lucky enough to be born with the chance that I had, to have this path in life, and why across the world there’s a woman just like me, with the same abilities and the same desires, the same work ethic and love for her family, who would most likely make better films and better speeches, only she sits in a refugee camp and she has no voice. She worries about what her children will eat, how to keep them safe, and if they’ll ever be allowed to return home. I don’t know why this is my life and that’s hers. I don’t understand that.”

I find myself returning often to those words: “I don’t know why this is my life and that’s hers.” Why was I born into my particular family, raised as I was, and given access to an elite education? I have always — and likely will always — fall short in answering that question. We frequently speak of global tragedy and suffering with an uneasy distance, aware that we will likely never know the depth of that pain firsthand. Yet, upon reflection, it becomes clear how easily we could have been among those we label as “them,” and how easily “they” could have been us. We have no control over the circumstances into which we are born. That, perhaps, is the great equalizer — and for some, a deeply unsettling truth. Solely by the luck of the draw, we get to live our comfortable, insulated lives. Why is it that some sit in refugee camps while we get to sit in lecture halls? If we find ourselves slipping into the narrative that we are entitled to our privileged lives, then I encourage us to reexamine our thoughts. 

These reflections are not meant to provoke guilt over the comfort we experience, the education we receive, or the small daily pleasures we enjoy. If anything, they suggest the opposite: that such moments should be experienced with greater intention and gratitude. Our tedious daily chores may be another person’s dream. The days we dismiss as “boring” are days full of small, simple pleasures that we have the privilege to experience. Beyond chance, there is often very little separating us from living the lives of our peers, neighbors, or anyone across the globe. This should encourage us to lead our lives with empathy, compassion, and overwhelming gratitude. 

In her 2005 New York Times profile of Joan Didion, journalist Rachel Donadio notes that Didion believed in using the good silver every day, because “every day is all there is.” Much of our lives are spent anticipating what comes next — the weekend, the next milestone, the next achievement. We start Mondays already wishing for Friday. We put our lives on hold to study hard for exams, only to do it all again. We move from degree to career, from goal to goal, always waiting for the next moment. And yet, most of our time is spent in the in-between: the ordinary days that quietly accumulate into a life. When we look back, we will realize that our life is just the sum of these “ordinary” days. Seen this way, the profundity of Didion’s words sinks in. Truly, “everyday is all there is.”

Lately, I’ve been trying to use my good silver every day. I get up early in the morning to style my hair, put on makeup, and choose an outfit that makes me feel good, even though it’s just another day that might otherwise pass unnoticed. I go to the dining hall excited to drink the same black coffee and have the same breakfast I have every day with my lovely friend, who gets up early just to catch me before a busy day of classes. How lucky am I that this is my daily life? I admit, at times, it can be easy to forget this. Assignments, papers, and duties pile up, and with them our stress and pressures of daily living. But then I find myself laughing at dinner with friends, or tucked into my warm bed, exhausted at night, and I’m struck by an immense sense of gratitude. In those moments, I realize how little of my life is truly plain — how much of it is quietly, improbably full.