The Future Falls from a Fig Tree
By Olivia Blizzard
Opinions Editor
As I think about the future ahead of me, I’m starting to reflect on what I want for myself, or what I love, or what I could do that would make my future self proud of me. I guess you can say that failing one Linear Algebra quiz really does that to a person. Anyway, my mind frequently starts to wander through the possibilities: I go from reflecting on what life would be like if I was an engineer, then a doctor, then a writer… But, as I continue down this path of daydreaming, I realize the problems associated with each career path: I can’t be an engineer if I despise physics, I can’t be a doctor if I don’t have an r score of 1000, I can’t be a writer because financial instability makes me nervous. I see the opportunities around me blossom, stay untouched, and then fall to their deaths before having a chance to pursue them. This reminded me of the imagery I read about in Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar. The more I grow up, I realize how eerily similar life is to the trajectory of a fig tree. The opportunities around a person manifest in the form of fresh figs of a plethora of different colors with interiors so bright that one couldn’t refuse to taste. But, as one observes the different fruits with equally stunning beauty, they can’t help but become puzzled on which of these figs is the best out of all of them. Then, as this person becomes lost in thought about the possibilities, they fail to realize that their lifespans are not eternal, as these fruits start to wither away and fall before the person can catch them or take a taste.
Sylvia Plath’s metaphor stops there as a daunting reality for many, and this is what I believed was the truth for a while. However, what Sylvia Plath doesn’t address is that a fig tree isn’t born with a set amount of figs: one blooms, then dies, as more bloom, then die, and more and more generations present themselves. Throughout the lifespan of a tree, figs will constantly appear like humans are constantly granted with many chances to succeed. The most important thing I’ve learned is that failing, and taking time to discover who you are, and what you’re meant to do is okay. People can drift off and lose themselves (which causes some figs to fall and die), but they can also find themselves again, orient themselves on a path, and restart their journey to loving who they are and becoming what they’re meant to be (which causes figs to be born and the right one to be picked off and eaten). And I’m sure that what you choose to do is the right path for you, or the most perfect fig from a large selection in a tree.