I finished documenting the notes from my last day of internship at Baring, but the Little Prince still rambled on with his discoveries on Earth. And so he tamed a fox, but now he was planning a departure again. I was used to his chit-chats, and was often amused by how eagerly he explored every bit of this universe.
“How about you? How was your internship?” He paused suddenly and asked.
“Well…” I pondered on this question. “I guess it is that same paradoxical feeling.”
He nodded. He understood how I love to count down on everything. My life was about tracking how close I am to the endings of every task. On one hand, I enjoyed the victorious feeling when I ultimately finished something and could put it down. On the other hand, endings always made me feel a sense of unknown emptiness, which permeates throughout every competition or event I participated in. The more I accomplished, the more the emptiness devoured my heart until it became hollow.
The ending of the internship just ate another bit of my heart away. Closing up my notebook packed with notes, a colorful page in it caught my sight. It was a supply chain graph I copied from a magazine. Feeling curious, I flipped through each page of the notebook. Although I take daily business notes for years, I never scrupulously studied them. Then before I knew, I was rambling on with my notes to the Little Prince. The unfamiliar nouns and equations I researched myself. The reflection on how to be a good problem solver after discussing with my father at 10 p.m. each day. The thoughts on the Bloomberg article about sustainable enterprises… I could not stop, for I felt truly exhilarated and content.
“Your eyes glow exactly like mine when I talk about my navigation in the universe,” the Little Prince interrupted me.
That was when I realized how genuinely I loved those tiny business explorations I do on my own each day. Steps are small, but I kept pacing. I never thought this would be the last unfamiliar noun I will encounter, the last discussion with my father, or the last article I will read. I don’t even count down, for I never set an ending for this habit. So why should there be an ending to any portions of my life?
The Little Prince waved goodbye to me. He said he shall leave Earth now for another exploration in the universe. I said farewell to him, and also to all the previous endings I set for myself. I will go on my own adventure to look for more,too.
I decide to start with the internship that has just ended. Opening up the notebook again, I wrote down portions of the E-bike report I conducted during the internship that I could delve deeper into. Vigorous typing and writing followed, and soon the pages were soaked with notes. But I look for more. I called an E-bike expert and asked him the questions that I felt confused about this industry. But I look for more. I investigated the bike sharing systems and questioned myself of the feasibility of applying E-bikes into this system. But I still look for more. Each time I did a little more, my heart was gradually filled — not by the ephemeral pride for conquering another task, but by the eternal fulfillment that I will not set a boundary to hinder my progression. I will forever be marching courageously into this broad world of possibilities, and absorb every knowledge I discover on the way.
A smile lingered on my face, and I understood why The Little Prince chose to depart the Earth. Although as terrific as a termination, he will lose the whole splendid galaxy if he stops here. So will I. From now on, I will follow the Little Prince inside my heart, for beyond the boundaries of Earth there are numerous stars.