The Beautiful and The Useful
With today marking the start of a six-week lockdown, I’ve been thinking about ways to best use the time freed up from no clinical placements or social outings. One question that comes to mind is, “Should I prioritise being productive, or on becoming a better character?” I know it sounds like a strange question – surely the two are mutually related – but what I mean is whether I should focus on my outputs (improving productivity) or my inputs (improving character) with this time.
Growing up, I often fetishised productivity. If I had 100 points to spend on either being productive or being interesting, I’d invest all 100 in being productive. It might’ve been an Asian millennial/Gen Z thing, but spending more time doing the same task always seemed absurd to me. Life is so grand and there is so much to accomplish, why waste your time like that?
Yet, I’m beginning to rethink this notion. It seems that getting stuck in the fast lane comes with a certain level of tunnel-vision – a myopia of sorts. When going fast, it’s so easy to get lost, that one forgets why they even started.
As usual, literature provided a valuable insight into this dilemma. Thanks to a friend’s recommendation, I’ve recently started reading Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables (Norman Denny translation) and found a highlight in my notes that spoke to this idea. In the following excerpt, Victor Hugo describes the garden of the Bishop Myriel. Mme Magloire is the domestic servant to the bishop.
“…The paths enclosed four square plots bordered with box. Mme Magloire once said teasingly to him: ‘Monseigneur, you believe in making use of everything, but this fourth plot is wasted. Salads are more useful than flowers’. ‘You are wrong,’ replied the bishop. ‘The beautiful is as useful as the useful.’ Then, after a pause, he added: ‘More so, perhaps.’”
I found this a great reminder to slow down. To allow one to indulge in something that lets the soul jiggle and delight, despite being useless from a productivity standpoint. For although a flower might not be as nutritious or ‘useful’ as a kale plant, its real value comes from something far deeper and gentler: the splendid ability to light up the heart.