The Pursuit of Happiness

By CHRISTINE S. LEE

Christine S. Lee

The "meaning of life" sounds like something almost too heavy to ponder. But it is something that we all wonder about, at least periodically. What is happiness all about? We all have different perspectives on this, of course. Samuel Johnson's famous words, "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness," better known from the American Declaration of Indepence, more or less provide us with a legitimate summation of the purpose of existence and give meaning to our efforts. Our hectic lives at Juilliard, with their endless hours dedicated to achieving professionalism and perfectionism, only seem justifiable under the name of passion—apparent in the air of urgency in the fourth-floor hallways, where people spend nearly an hour wandering and looking for practice rooms, from 8 a.m. to midnight. (And, nope. There are no holidays and weekends for us!) At some point, after hours of Rachmaninoff piano concertos and Liszt's Mephisto Waltz, I began to wonder where this passion derives from. Why do we put so much time and energy into something that may not even bring us deserved compensation? Why are we such zealots, obsessing over meticulous dynamics and phrasing? As I wondered, I thought, there has to be something beyond the beauty and allure of art in this world.

Our love of art and sense of artistic purpose at Juilliard provide vitality in intellectual growth, but there is effervescence and vivaciousness to be found outside these walls as well.

I started volunteering in hospitals and at the Children's Aid Society a few years ago. I wanted something that would broaden my perspective—perhaps something that could mean as much as perfecting my technique and analyzing structures of music. I started helping patients in the surgical unit at Mount Sinai Hospital, teaching math to children in the city's underserved communities, and coordinating Saturday outings for the younger children at the Children's Aid Society. My weekly trips to these places feel like an exploration of a different world. I see that so many things we take for granted every day—such as the basic functioning of our bodies or exposure to a great educational system—are not things that everyone has been given. I remember in particular one elderly lady who did not have any family members, and who was suffering alone in her bed. I realized later, after visiting her, that it is not something grand that really helps these people, but simply being there for them. As the Beatles put it, all we need is love: to know that there is someone out there who can be there for us. Life may be devastating at times, but I think that to know we are not alone brings us back to the comfort zone. I remember this woman's big, exuberant smile; all she needed was someone to be there.

Over the summer, I volunteered at an utterly shocking, impecunious city children's hospital in Korea, housing mostly orphans with multiple birth defects. Many of them were in a state of stupor, unaware of their existence except for pain. I wasn't sure sometimes whether their screams arose from physical pains or emotional ones. It was upsetting that people seemed not to care, to be unaware that these young people existed. According to Unicef, some 30,000 children die each day due to poverty. Half the world's people—nearly three billion—live on less than $2 a day. Academic and artistic ambitions are, without a doubt, very important. But our individual intelligence does not have to follow any pedantic or limited set of rules that define beauty only in terms of impeccable mathematical formulas, resplendent portraits, or dulcet melodies and harmonies that result in an indescribable epiphany in our hearts. As Victor Hugo wrote in Les Misérables, "Life's greatest happiness is to be convinced we are loved." The genuine love of art and keen sense of artistic purpose that informs our activities at Juilliard certainly provide vitality in our intellectual growth and existence, but there is effervescence and vivaciousness to be found outside these walls as well. And I think that happiness of any kind is priceless—especially when we share it with others.

Christine S. Lee is a third-year piano student.