In M. Night Shyamalan’s “Unbreakable,” Bruce Willis’ character wakes up every morning of his… In M. Night Shyamalan’s “Unbreakable,” Bruce Willis’ character wakes up every morning of his life feeling an acute sense of sadness that he can’t quite put his finger on. Samuel L. Jackson’s character responds, “I think I know what that is. Perhaps you’re not doing what it is you’re supposed to be doing.”

Of all vices, satisfaction is among the most dangerous, for it teaches us that all of our desires and impulses can be slaked if we are willing to work hard enough. Most things are never able to meet our expectations, however. C.S. Lewis saw this as evidence for life after death. We are all instilled with notions that fill us with a sense that “this,” finally, at last, is what we have been waiting for all our lives, whether it is a new promising love interest or an engaging new subject to read and learn about, or a semester abroad in a fascinating other world.

When the result of our exploring Ghana all summer or pouring over Descartes invariably falls short of what we have longed for in our hearts – closure and meaning – Lewis retorts that this must be an example of a feeling that cannot be satisfied in the confines of our own world and understanding.

Until the next life seems like a long time to wait for something gnawing away at us. There always seems to be somewhere else that must be the center of things, the apex of the universe. This is what draws students to transfer colleges four times, hit up five parties in one night or never set down the remote control.

We seem to be pumping with the constant desire to find “it,” that one tangible thing will set the heavens in motion and set our hearts soaring colorfully a la the water fountains at Station Square. This is why long-distance relationships so often do actually work – no flesh and blood love interest sitting on the couch can possibly compare to the image of the rugged romantic far off, exploring himself or herself on some foreign continent, sending tantalizing e-mails at sporadic intervals hinting of the drops of Jupiter in their hair.

If it is maddening to not know where you should be or what you should be doing when you are there, the most frightening madness is that of not knowing who you are. This is a feeling that is compounded greatly depending upon the quality of your company. At one point or another, everyone seems to have the experience of being best friends with someone for whom everything goes a bit too well. It can be frustrating to be best pals with someone who has nary a care in the world.

Every new person is an entire universe of experience and philosophy, something that we often overlook when we first meet someone at a bus stop or darkened basement and assume that there is nothing to discuss beyond weather. For every person has something within them that is worth taking.

So often in life we allow ourselves to be intimidated or resentful of someone else’s happiness or abilities – just as much as the lover loves the world, the world would often rather hate him for it. This concept of our brethren as competition for happiness is misguided. Someone else standing out, be it in the classroom on a basketball court or just by being happy with himself on the street isn’t reason for scorn – it’s reason to celebrate that someone else has figured out their own path that works. And maybe walking some sections of it will help others as well.

Whenever I hear someone described as “trying to be someone she’s not” or “changed,” I really can’t blame them. After all, isn’t evolution the whole point – to retain our inherent good, while still trying to improve upon ourselves?

This is why I have no time anymore to wait on jealousy. Instead, I have strived to find friends in my life, not to whom I can feel good about myself in comparison, but who push me, without their knowing it, to shape up. When I scroll through the pictures of my friends on my walls, I see more than people I have laughed and had fun with, I see an intricate puzzle of what I eventually hope to be.

From some, I want to emulate their adventurous spirits. From others, their generosity. Everyone has something to offer us that we should be ravenous and eager to take, be it a belly laugh that breaks the sound barrier or a way of letting our clothes hang off our backs that signals to the world that what lies underneath is a lot more important.

I’ve found that what is important is not so much the quality of our company, but how we choose to use it – we can envy and scorn the brightness in others, or we can bask in its reflected glow and find our own ways to shine.

Care to bask in Daron’s reflected glow? E-mail him at [email protected].