exigo a me non ut optimus par sim sed ut malis melior [i require myself not to be equal to the best, but to be better than the bad.]
for the longest time, this phrase sat in my head like a locked door. latin does that - sounds wise, feels important, means... what exactly?
in literal translation it means: stop trying to be perfect. just be better than your worst self.
sounds simple, yet isn’t.
we’re comparing ourselves to people ten steps ahead, scrolling through highlight reels, feeling horrid because we’re not at the summit yet. the summit that keeps moving. the summit that’s honestly kind of a lie.
but this phrase? it plants me right where i am. dirt under my feet. flaws in full view with no filter.
it says: look at yourself. really look. see the mess, the failures, the times you fell short. now look at where you were six months ago. a year ago. notice the difference? it’s the small gap between who you were and who you are now that i choose to highlight.
i have lost just as much as i have gained quantatively but not qualitatively. the beautiful thing is that i end the year with exactly what i came into it with: hope, love, and persistance.
as i complete my first semester across the country, experiencing far too much snow, friendship, and late-night existential spirals for the first time, i remind myself:
i require myself not to be equal to the best, but to be better than the bad.
by which i mean, i look at the cold hard truth of what lies within myself, stripped of pretense and pride, and i do not aim for the unreachable summit where perfection lies. it is unreachable for a reason. i instead see myself compared to where i was before and regard the growth and the setback and the growth on that setback - i am proud. i plant my feet firmly in the soil of reality, amidst all my flaws and failings and understand that equal to the best should never be possible because i will always seek better (truth) and for that, i am proud once again.
i do not seek to shine the brightest, for i know that brilliance can often burn. i do not need to be the best; i only need to be a little better than what is the base of this foundation of life, a little kinder than cruelty, a little braver than fear, a little more than what would drag me down.
i look to the flawed, the broken, and i say to myself, “i will not settle here.”
i will climb, and in the midst of all the useless climbing (call it hurdles, call it the train, call it goals), i will find the true measure of who i am—again, not as the best, but as something better than what the worst would have me become.
that’s the thing about firsts (self-recognition to starting over). i’m not just learning by myself. i’m learning who i am when no one’s watching. when my old patterns don’t work anymore.
and in those moments, the phrase comes back: better than the bad.
better than the version of me that wants to give up. better than the me that scrolls instead of studies, isolates instead of reaches out, pretends instead of tries.
the gap between those two versions - my worst self and my current self - that’s where all the real work happens. it’s the only comparison that actually matters.
so i continue to plant my feet. know my flaws. climb anyway.
not toward perfection. toward better.
