Alchemist: Transmutation of Oil to Passion

  

    Swathed in royal purple silk, the alchemist moved like a shadow over the endless desert dunes, eyes of crystalline blue entranced by visions of hidden riches. The night wind whispered, shifting grains of sand to cloak his trail and urge him toward an unseen promise: an oasis emerging like a mirage from the dark expanse. Beside its tranquil waters rose a monumental dome, sculpted by sands but marked by divine design. Amethyst gemstones glistened on the pillars of the entryway, signaling a gateway to the gods’ forgotten realm.

    The massive doors groaned open, revealing a cavernous chamber where the air pulsed with arcane energy. Runes spiraled across the stone floors, tangling with scrolls and ancient texts. Here, at last, lay the convergence of his lifelong pursuit: the transmutation of oil into gold. Years of meticulous study, dissecting the alchemical paradox that defied reason, had led him to this sanctum. Yet success had never graced his efforts. His brilliance wasted, dreams eroded by failure.

    Frustration surged through him, a storm in a bottle, and with a violent sweep, he cast vials of phosphorescent liquid against the walls. Glass shattered and mingled with the hushed tones of despair. A tapestry, heavy with age and depicting the enigmatic hidden, fluttered and pulled back to reveal a silken doorway. Its veil was intangible, a whisper of mysticism radiating an irresistible pull.

    He stood at the brink, heart beating an erratic tempo, blood laced with the bitter taste of defeat. This veiled threshold held no assurances—promise or oblivion—yet the gravity of surrender was irresistible. In one breathless step, the void consumed him, devouring his form as swiftly as dark tides swallow a stone.

    When he turned, the veil was gone, dissolved into nothingness. Around him, the familiar stone chapel stood solemn and unremarkable. His sheep grazed quietly in the morning light. The time that had defined him, the years spent lost in alchemy’s labyrinth, had vanished like the desert wind. He was left with silence—the weight of what had been and what could no longer be.

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    This story immortalizes my fear, anger, and relief in discovering my true passion. From the age of 5, I wanted to be a marine biologist, I was deeply interested in the expansive world sustaining millions of unique species. As an interest matured, I took honors, advanced, and college level science courses to further my education and deepen my interest in biology. As I entered the gates of college, I was studying biology with a focus on becoming a doctor, but by then, a 15 year old flame had become a smolder, ripped of the oxygen that fed its raging passion. I felt defeated and lost, my childhood dreams fizzled out before my eyes.

   Luckily, I found a rooted interest in economics and finance. You see, I grew up in Mississippi, under government housing and food stamps, needless to say, money always drew my attention. From a young age, I developed a competitive curiosity about the flow of money. As I progressed through high school, doing my bio focused internships like cancer research, I noted how critical economics and finance were. Our research was privately funded, equipment purchased through online marketplaces, and projects were designed to maximize company profits. Moreover, in my spare time, I even "invested" in Legos, with my ROI consistently beating the performance of the SPX. So just like that, I had an epiphany the summer before my sophomore year of college; I need to follow business and economics!

    While this shift was tectonic, when you walk on the right path, doors being to open for you. Within a few months of this change, I have met monumentally influential people, earned desired opportunities, and most importantly, kindled a distant flame into a once again raging passionate fire.

    The only regret I will never have is what would life be like if I followed my passion?