你永远不知道,一个日常生活里的小物什究竟能发挥多大的威力,比如,送你进哈佛。最近,就有这样一个妹子,靠自己的内衣进了哈佛,确切的说,是写了篇穿内衣有感而被哈佛看中了。
通知下来的那天,连她自己都被吓了一跳,直到在录取信上看到招生官特意手写的评论:“我爱极了你的内衣essay.” 这才惊觉:一切都是真的! 如今回顾起这次奇遇,妹子还少不了一通自我调侃:“我的哈佛申请之路,乍一看,还真像个玩笑。”
一篇临时起意的文章让她迈进哈佛
事情是这样的: 一开始,有人在Quora上提问:大神们,请问你们申请哈佛时都写过哪些顶尖的文书?出来晒晒呗~于是,便炸出了一堆就读哈佛的精英们。他们纷纷晒出自己当年申请哈佛的essay,有谈教育的,有品音乐的,但这些中规中矩的文章,都不如My-Ngoc(Quora封面名,以下简称Ngoc)的一篇内衣论出彩。目前,该文的阅读量已达到了450.4K,点赞量14.5K.与其他准备良久的竞争对手们不同,Ngoc进哈佛,充满了误打误撞的意味。
确切的说,哈佛大学是她在最后一刻才加到申请名单里的。对此,Ngoc的解释是:“因为哈佛的申请流程太简单了,不申请一下简直浪费。” 正是由于无心插柳,Ngoc打一开始就没想去故意惊艳谁,只是洋洋洒洒地写了些心里话——一篇谈论内衣和星星的作品。
而之所以选这个题材,也是她“偷懒”从之前申请芝加哥大学的材料中摘取的(芝加哥的申请要求是写一篇500字的文,谈谈对自己意义重大的一件衣服。) 可就是这么一篇临时起意的文章,将Ngoc一路送进了哈佛。
废弃的内衣就像黑洞,将我整个吞噬
在文章的一开始,Ngoc对内衣是恶意满满的。 她回忆了自己第一次穿内衣的时候:那是五年级放学后的一天,母亲将她拉到一旁,递上一片白色布状的东西,吩咐她穿在身上:“你是个大女孩了,你得穿上它。”
那一刻,Ngoc觉得自己的人生就此被改变了。自从胸前多了这个不太舒服的玩意儿,Ngoc就没安生的时候。它紧贴于衬衫之下,勒着自己的胸,总有一股隐隐的压力,似乎无时无刻不在提醒着她:无忧无虑的童年已经过去了。 就这样,内衣挺进了Ngoc的生活。
第一件内衣用了没多久就下岗了,随之而来的是第二件、第三件,到了第四件的时候,Ngoc已经穿上了成人码,就是自己妈妈穿的那种。 内衣的更换似乎在告诉Ngoc一种定律:新的一来,旧的拜拜。
旧的内衣只能被丢弃在柜子深处,不管以前多么闪耀夺目,现在也只是一堆破旧的边角料,似乎这就是它们无可更改的宿命。“就像坠落在宇宙犄角旮旯里的星星一样,它们落满了灰尘,毫无生机,毫无光彩。”
这让Ngoc无比伤感,她想起了自己穿内衣的那一天,一样是没有选择的余地,没有说No的权利,这和那些被丢弃的内衣有什么两样?于是,每换一件新的内衣,这种失落感就加重一分,她觉得自己似乎被强行推着,走到越来越遥远的地方,没有回头的余地。她开始厌恶起了新内衣上的那些装饰:时髦的褶皱,夸张的图案,繁复的花边,一切都是那么的闪亮亮,似乎是为了抵消人生进程中越加越重的担子而做出的补偿。这种厌恶一再发酵,终于,她开始抵抗穿新内衣:“有时,即使我发现内衣太小,该换了,我仍然不愿意换新的,因为这意味着新的来了,旧的就得滚蛋。
如果世界是按这么一个定律运转,那对我来说还有什么生存的意义?” 但这种抵抗没起太大作用,很快,Ngoc便发现柜子里被丢弃的内衣依旧越积越多,就像黑洞一样在吸蚀着自己:“我渐渐泄了气,准备着被这样一个黑洞吞噬。”
变化更迭乃自然规律,何必烦恼?
于妹子们来说,穿内衣是每一天再正常不过的事情了。 内衣是性感、美丽的代名词,更是好身材必不可少的衬托。但对于Ngoc,内衣已经变成了一个怎么也解不开的心结,它没有色彩,没有光芒,散发着一股陈旧、阴腐的气息。 好在有一天,Ngoc终于想通了。她发现,生命并不是单纯的线性运转,而是像一个圈,有着周而复始的循环:就拿自己心爱的星星来说,新的星星是从那些已经燃尽的星星灰烬里重生的,因此换个角度看,死亡所带来的黑暗其实也暗暗蕴含着生的光芒。
那么也就是说,万物相辅相成,相依相存。现有的事物都有着过去的影子,是对过去的一种诠释和再造。所以,穿上一件新的内衣,并不是对旧内衣的抛弃,而是对生活的变化本身所给予的一种回应。在文章末尾,Ngoc写道:变化,尽管对每个人来说都是压力重重,但却是天底下最自然的规律。我想,柜子里的那一堆内衣无论如何都减少不了了,虽然我很难接受这一点,但我不得不承认,随着年龄的增加,下垂会变得很厉害,我也需要新的内衣,毕竟这世上没什么能比一件内衣带来更坚挺的依托了。
Ngoc妹子对人生的这种幽默调侃,睿智认知,立马引来了一堆网友的赞赏:
和网友们一样,学霸君也很欣赏Ngoc妹子的这种改变:缅怀过去,但也学会拥抱现有的。其实,我们每个人都经历过一些不太愉悦的变化,小到第一次摔跤,第一次变声、长胡子;大到高考失败,亲人离去。这些变化让人气恼,甚至伤心欲绝,故而你开始抗拒,就像Ngoc抵制新的内衣一样。这些本无可厚非,不过这之后,得学会如何去适应身边的环境,接受人生随之而来的变化。因为它标志着你开始参悟、思考身边的一切,并积极寻求办法与新的挑战共存。毕竟,如那句话所说:“It's awful being a grown-up, but the carousel never stops spinning." (成人的世界有诸多烦忧,但旋转木马依旧转个不停。)
是啊,时间不会倒流,又何必一味追忆逝去的?万事万物无时不刻不在变化之中,有新的到来,自然就有旧的逝去。没必要抗拒,而要像Ngoc妹子领悟到的:聚焦现在,活在当下。 Ngoc做到了,所以她在文中写道:I was saved.
被一件内衣拯救,所以钻出了牛角尖,学会从容地面对自己的人生。这种不按常理出牌的套路,大概正是吸引哈佛招生官的地方,于是大方抛出了橄榄枝。而这种独特而又富含智慧的视角,似乎是近年来名校最为心仪的,心动的小伙伴们,不如好好借鉴一番~ 最后,附上Ngoc的原文,喜欢的小伙伴们快快读起来:
I remember the first time I wore a bra. I came home from school in the fifth grade, and my mom handed me a white cloth to put on beneath my shirt. “You’re a big girl now,” she said, “You need to wear this.” From that moment on, my life was forever changed.
That same year, I was taught that the sun would someday die, and I, feeling the pressure of the contraption beneath my shirt, realized that my childhood, too, would eventually dissipate just like the sun.
The first bra paved way for a second, and then a third, and then, by the fourth bra I had advanced to the Lady Type, the ones that my mom wore.
With every new bra, I cast away the former. Somewhere in the dark abyss of my closet, there is a heap of abandoned bras, tiny, worn-out filaments that had once shone so brightly in their days of use, but had faded away into old, neglected remnants of days long gone. They sit against a corner of the universe and gather dust like dead stars— without life, without luster, without vigor.
With every new bra, I felt the unmerciful hand of change push me further down a path with which I had no return. The bras no longer had the simplicity of the first; they came equipped with more folds and stitches and frills and patterns that were designed to counteract the growing complexity of my responsibilities.
Sometimes, when I found myself too big for the current one, I was either unable to or unwilling to get another because of the implications behind the transition—if every new bra meant the death of another star, then the adult world was nothing to me but a lifetime of darkness. I tried so hard not to kill any more stars, but my resistance was not enough, and I found myself adding layer after layer to the ever-increasing pile of bras. With this mindset, I prepared myself for the end, for the moment in which my entire universe would be engulfed by the black hole forming in my closet.
But I was saved.
I learned that life does not occur linearly, but in cycles: New stars can arise from the ashes of former ones, and the darkness of death is replenished by the light of birth. Thus, what is created is only a reinterpretation of the past in a form that is fitted for the present. In wearing a new bra, I was not casting away my old self but reorienting myself to accommodate to changing times.
Change, as overwhelming as it feels, is only natural—the pile of bras will only get bigger. Though it is hard to accept the existence of the bra in my life, I realize that I cannot live without it, for, as we grow older, things tend to droop more easily, and there is nothing more reliable than a bra to give us the inner support necessary to have a firm hold on life.
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