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Magnify, to increase the apparent size of, as a lens does - Dictionary.com

The word “Magnify” commonly conjures the image of a microscope, scientists in white coats and bulky plastic goggles fiddling with glass trays and pipettes, staring at particles through a lens. However, people rarely associate the term “magnify” with human lives—our own existences.

I certainly did not, especially when I arrived at Deerfield. Before, everything seemed “normal”: wake up, go to school, go to dance, drive home, homework, sleep, repeat. The regular routine. Now, ordinary occurrences seem like we experience them through the heightened vision of a microscope. 

Freshmen declamations took place during Winter term, and I waited eagerly for the assignment to reach my classroom. As 4 weeks passed by, it was finally time to declaim. I psychotically paced around my room, declaiming my piece repeatedly. Recordings on my phone stacked up, each slightly different in meter, tempo, and intonation. 

“It's a tie!”

Immediately, I felt relieved; at least my piece was “good” enough to tie. Pre-Deerfield, I infrequently exaggerated the gravity of assignments that involved competition. After I lost, I was elated for my friend, but part of me still itched, “what if?”

Thus began my days of snarky remarks about my loss in casual conversations; somehow, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my efforts weren't enough. I noticed my actions, yet I couldn't hold back. “Winning” rose to prominence, encompassing my existence and highlighting personal shortcomings.

Starting at ten, I danced competitively. My earliest memories are of my instructor guiding us through the competitive environment with pressure. We were urged to aim for perfection, which can often be a commendable goal for athletes. Thus, a main focus of my life became competitions; specifically, winning them by any means necessary. The success-driven mindset I obtained at a young age stayed prevalent throughout my life and translated into academic atmospheres as well. My declamation was a manifestation of the competitive avarice I received from competing early in life. Additionally_, Deerfield breeds a setting where people are surrounded by exceptional persons, “weapons.” Upholding and navigating one’s place in academia becomes a priority, and students tend to emphasize not being viewed as “lacking” in a daunting milieu.

Competition is not always a negative. It can be an excellent motivator for people aiming towards success. Athletes can thrive in challenging environments that push them to win. However, the pressure to achieve frequently morphs into something that limits people from flourishing. High expectations implemented on individuals can create hyperfixation, and that enlarged -focus can cause students and athletes alike to err. Often, the minds of significantly stressed students before a test will go blank, or athlete’s worrying about their coaches' desires to win will perform weaker than usual in a game. These instances are an example of the adverse effects of having astronomically high -expectations that can be impossible to accomplish.

According to Stanford neurologist Andrew Huberman, in stressful or challenging moments, humans have a propensity to narrow their field of vision. Peripheral locations blur as one’s eyes pivot towards their nose. A certain task physically becomes an all-consuming focus. In the cognitive field, humans in closed atmospheres - like Deerfield - “zoom in” on previously insignificant issues whilst outside elements grow cloudy.

The first step towards “zooming out” is ameliorating turbulence; putting things into perspective. Placing aside personal obstacles or outside pressures to appreciate what's in our periphery—what has become leftovers in our psyches. My eyes had narrowed towards the declamation’s result, and uncrossing my eyes became a necessity—to peer around at what was now blurry by my own consent.

Just as researchers amplify minuiscule microbes with microscopes, or athletes stress over unreachable -expectations, I amplified the declamation’s gravity, allowing the result to engulf features of my life. However, I quickly pulled my eyes out of focus and began to visualize the “bigger picture.” The declamation was a mere step on an infinite staircase, not worth travail.

Magnification is not a quant issue specifically pertaining to a select group of people; it applies to every Deerfield student. One bad math grade plunges us into disarray, a “lousy” sit-down meal dictating whether or not students show up, 2,000 word essays encompassing endless hours of time. These events understandably impact our lives, especially in environments like Deerfield, where our entire lives center around a three-hundred thirty- acre campus. In a close-knit atmosphere where the majority of endeavors are academic or athletic, it is easy to prioritize those concerns over outside life elements. Putting things into perspective is not disregarding taxing or stressful events, but rather “unfocusing” enough to clear the hazy bounds of our perception. The desire to succeed should not stand as something that people completely disregard, nor should having high -expectations for yourself be. Rather, it is more beneficial to approach disappointing scenarios with a broader mind. Remembering that not every dilemma is catastrophic, and eventually it will fade from importance. Curtailing hyperfixation isn’t giving up;, it is managing expectations and mental disturbances by accepting outcomes, even if they are unsatisfactory. Switching scales of view is a skill that protects human well-being. Without it, we are standing at the center of a circle, unable to see the circumference. 

Zooming out requires initiative, but once one’s mental/physical vision is cleared, and the desire to achieve resides to a rational degree, issues tend to resolve, and the brief four years of high school become extensively more enjoyable. I offer a more adequate definition of “Magnify.”

Magnify, to exaggerate physical attributes or nominal conundrums; as a lens does.