No matter how successful you are, no matter how good you are at what you do, even if a golden path rolls out in front of your feet your whole life, there will come one particularly bleak Tuesday when you glance over at Facebook and notice that Jen From Down The Hall has just won an Oscar. Burt Zinffer, whom you once rejected at a party because he reminded you of a vole with a poor conception of personal space, has just married a freakishly attractive human and become the governor of Michigan.
That was the whole point of coming to Harvard: to meet all these interesting great talented people who were going to do great things. But when these Great Things go from theory to practice, it hits you in the vitals. Sure, you like the relevant announcement on Facebook. Then the temptation is to go punch a small hole in the wall and bellow, "WHY GOD WHY," and eat several pounds of brisket while screaming wordlessly. I'm not saying you succumb. You are bigger than that. But still.
It's hard enough to be happy for yourself.
That is why you absolutely have to do the thing you want to do and not what you think you should do or what your parents do or what you feel gives you the highest number of Life Achievement Points. When Jeff from Canaday comes strolling by with his Ryder Cup, if you cannot say, "Well, but today I did something that made me happy," you will rupture something, and it certainly won't occur to you to send Jeff a thoughtful card.
Do you.
If you're doing what you do because you love it, you have room to be happy for others. And that's a lot of fun, when you get down to it. Cheering is a great time, and you have an immense team of people to cheer for. When you cheer, people want to be around you. You get to go to the party to celebrate Dave's promotion and meet Warren Buffett, rather than sit at home unnerving your Roomba by scowling at it.
"Anyone can sympathize with the suffering of a friend," Oscar Wilde wrote. "It requires a truly fine nature…to sympathize with a friend's success."
Figure out how to do this, and you have it made.
Alexandra A. Petri ’10, a former Crimson editorial writer, is a columnist for the Washington Post.