Write a personal essay in which you describe and reflect on some of the things that bring excitement and wonder into your life (2023)

Sample essay 1 (Art)

Feedback: Solid H1. Great engagement with the question, great structure. Word count is over 1400 words, which I would usually caution against (stick to 1000-1200 words), but in this case it doesn’t spoil the essay. Having said that, if it were shortened by 10-20%, it wouldn’t do any harm either. You may also like: Leaving Cert English Complete Guide (€).

Art has always played a big role in my life. From reading any book I had access to, to filling any spare moment with music, to creating art of my own, not a day goes by where I don’t interact with art in some shape or form. Art for me, is a way of recharging, of escaping the world around me. (There are some punctuation issues here, though nothing drastic. For example, it should be, “Art, for me, is a way of…” It’s a great idea to use this concise guide.) Art is subjective, and the art I choose to engage with is very personal to me and fills me with great excitement. I’ve always been a little more on the introverted side, enjoying my own company sometimes more than the company of others, and I have been known to cancel plans, so that I can read a new book or listen to a new album, which is maybe a little mean, but I can’t imagine a life without art. And though my relationship with art has morphed and changed shape over my 18 years of life, it has always been an integral part of me. (Super personal, self-reflective, confessional, perfectly relevant to the question. 10/10 – and a gold star.)

I remember trudging through the front door after a particularly draining day at school. Burnt out and extremely exhausted, I picked out a CD, placed it on the tray and collapsed onto my bed. The player made a little whirring sound before the first few notes trickled in. Though I’d heard this album numerous times before, I couldn’t help but be transfixed by the rhythm and gentle voice. I lay in bed, stared at the ceiling and let the music wash over me, listening intently to every note. The album was ‘Songs and Instrumentals’ by Adrianne Lenker. A collection of songs that were written while the artist was isolated in a cabin in the woods. I can’t say for certain what it is that draws me to these songs, maybe its the simplicity of the music or the lyrics that I couldn’t quite understand. But something about it felt uniquely like me. Like the artist knows me inside and out. It reminds me of my child self, of summers spent climbing trees and collecting bugs, though the lyrics suggest nothing of the sort. One of my favorite songs on the album is ‘Ingydar’, a song about the circularity of life, named after the artist’s horse, that died when she was a child. It’s filled with rich imagery of life contrast with death, at times disturbing yet comforting. The line “everything eats and is eaten time is fed” is repeated many times throughout the song, and stands as a reminder that death, while it is sad, it is natural and has happened many times before and will happen many times yet. As someone who is not religious, I don’t believe in life after death, but I find comfort in knowing that when I die, my body will be recycled and will create new life. And I suppose this song appeals to those thoughts, though it may be a little morbid. The appeal of art like this, is having someone transcribe your thoughts so beautifully, and I am constantly left in awe of the artist’s skill.

The first time I ever picked up a Virginia Woolf book, I was so lost and confused that I gave up almost immediately and did not attempt to read it again for several years. I must’ve been around 13 or 14 at the time, I just didn’t understand it. When I finally did read ‘Mrs Dalloway’, it quickly became one of my favourites. I like to think that art finds you when you most need it. It rings true in my experience, as I’ll often find myself looking back on art I used to adore, that just doesn’t hold up anymore. And it certainly rings true on this occasion. Where before I had found the book dull and confusing, on my second attempt I was enthralled. I opened the book for the second time on my trip to London over the summer, and I spent those two weeks reading wherever and whenever I could. On park benches, street corners, restaurants and even the tube. Despite being incredibly short, the book took forever to read. It was written in a stream of consciousness style, where the prose attempted to mimic human thought. It was unorganised and random and jumped from head to head with little warning. This book was part of the modernist movement, a movement created in response to the invention of film and video, where writers narrowed into the unique introspective nature of writing, something which could not be replicated on a screen. And while this may seem like torture to some people, I greatly enjoyed it, and learning the historical context excited me even more. This book was like a puzzle, it required serious focus and concentration, and I found myself reading and rereading passages over and over just to figure out what was going on. It reminded me of when I was little, and my parents had bought me a set of beginner level books for Christmas. I remember parsing over syllables and spending hours on end teaching myself to read. My parents helped of course, but it was mostly self-motivated. The sense of accomplishment I felt once I could read a book without awkward pauses or tripping over words was unmatched, and it’s been something I’ve been chasing ever since. The challenge of dissecting and understanding the intent behind Virginia Woolf’s work fills me with that same wonder I had as a child. Her work inspires me, and I greatly appreciate her talents as a writer.

So far, I have only discussed how I interact with artwork created by others. (This sentence alone is worth so much in the essay. Structure, sign posting, clarity – excellent!) The creation of my own artwork is an entirely different experience which creates its own unique feelings of pride and accomplishment. When I was in third class, ‘the art kid’ announced she was moving to a new school. There was a vacancy to be filled, and from that moment, I drew every day for hours on end. I’d always been creative, but I’d never fully devoted myself to drawing until then. Perhaps it was because I felt I would not be taken seriously, there was already an artist in the class, what need was there for two? Since then, there have been periods of my life where I would not touch a pencil for months on end, but I always find myself returning to art. I often get lost in my drawings, it is a very satisfying experience, adding lines upon lines until the drawing finally takes shape and before I know it, hours have passed. Creating art is not without difficulty though. It can be extremely frustrating and challenging. Like with understanding literature, there’s a lot that needs to be dissected. When starting a painting, I am never fully sure what the end result will look like. I may have an idea, but there will always be aspects I need to discover along the way, like adjusting the colour palette or altering the composition to make the piece more cohesive. It’s a time consuming and difficult process, but in the end, once everything comes together, it’s all worth it. The feeling of creating something you are proud of is unmatched.

From the little girl who devoured every book in sight, to the (slightly older) girl who doodled on any available surface to the teenager who would fill every spare moment with music, art has remained a constant friend throughout my life. Whether I’m looking for an escape from the outside world, to learn something new or even just the knowledge that somewhere out there, someone understands me, I turn to art. I am aware that my relationship with art may be a little strange, obsessive even, but I don’t know who I would be without it.

Sample essay 2 (Wonder through adversity)

Feedback: this is a low H1 personal essay. The issue is to a great extent with the introduction – it feels unnatural, contrived, like the author looked up lots of words in the dictionary. Moreover, it doesn’t really tell us much about what will follow in the rest of the essay, which doesn’t help with engagement. This is a good reminder of just how disproportionately important introductions are! You may also like: Leaving Cert English Complete Guide (€).

I must admit that there can be some strings of time in my life where are excitement and wonder are scarce, almost as if I’m a grizzled architect on a venture exploring for the lost golden treasure. This elusive treasure equivalates to the unique things I have indulged myself within overtime. The vast array of joyful wealth contained in these things is what permits me to persist with this life which sometimes has the ability to transform into a pessimist. The enthusiasm for life they lend me in even my most dismal of times is what I would like to reflect on over the course of this essay. To quote Oscar Wilde “to live is the rarest thing. Most people just exist”. To achieve this rare state of “living”, one must uncover the things that radiate wonder and excitement in their life.

School to some is a place that wreaks havoc upon their life, almost prison-like in how it limits from the true fruition in their lives. (See what I mean by unnatural? You could change this to, almost prison-like in how it limits them in finding direction or pursuing their dreams – or something in this vein. It gets a lot better as the essay goes on.) I feel I differ from most in this area however, I’ve always felt an immense gratitude for school and an overwhelming tremor of nerves as it comes to an end. I’ve recently began to observe more closely, the passing moments here. Simplistic things like getting a chuckle out of a friend at lunchtime as a result of my self-proclaimed wittiness or getting on the nerves of a teacher at the cost of this same wittiness, I’ll miss them. Who is going to laugh at my rather inconsistent jokes now? I have my last lunchtime with my friends fast approaching on the horizon but if I had the choice I’d let it stay there on the hills, I’d let it fuel my excitement for the rest of my life if I could. The last derby amongst me and my piers, I have a hunch we’re all going to put in a bit more graft to get the win, I think I’ll even leave an extra tackle on my opposing mate, a signature of our lunchtime matches! School is something that has filled me with wonder in the present, but will soon be reduced to just past memories I yearn for.

Not to contradict myself, I love school but every time I wonder about the future, a weight as heavy as the Alps trundles down upon me, metaphorically of course. But this is a weight that I warmly embrace with open arms, a weight full to the brim with excitement. What’s not to love about the future? The near future at least. When I think about dotting down my last words and leaving that exam hall, a giddiness stacks up inside of me, one that I feel is a new, unpalpable excitement. Its all built up to this, I’ve spent the brunt of eighteen years, being bestowed with an education and some life lessons along the way, although I still don’t know how to do my own tie so perhaps I’ll put that on the checklist once I’ve knocked off this leaving cert thing. In my opinion, having a quench for the taste of the future is fundamental to my excitement. We all require something that can aid us in evading the strains of our everyday life, in my case its these exams. With college just around the corner, opportunities await me, opportunities that fascinate me and ones that I will undoubtedly dive joyfully and headfirst into.

I want to jump back to reality, the future is exciting no doubt, but something that I still find marvel in currently is the precious times I get to spend with my family, my grandad in particular and the golf course we wasted so many sunny and rainy days at if you want to be even more specific than that. Don’t get me wrong, my entire family holds a special place in my heart, my embarrassing yet loveable ‘fun dad’, my protective mother who will try give me advice until the cows come home and my tiringly argumentative older brother, a person who has guided me through life whether he knows it or not, although a fact I would never admit to him directly. You get my point, they’re all people who lend me wonder but the times with my grandad are unique, almost euphoric when I recall the cherished memories we’ve shared together. His wife, my granny passed when I was at a young age so mam employed me and my brother to keep him company, something we didn’t know at the time but would end up being eternally thankful for. I can still recapture the first day he took me out golfing, trying with the best of his ability to teach me the ways of the game he adored so very much. A unique feeling of happiness entered me that day, despite the fact I wasn’t very good. His teaching eventually caught on however and because of him, I am privileged to have an activity I can do everyday, allowing me to escape my qualms and indulge into a game of astoundment (needs synonym). This is just one of the many electrifying gifts the wise old man, as he calls himself, presented me with at a young age that I still find genuine awe in today.

As I’m writing this, I’m realising it is the more minimalistic things in life that are at the core of my jubilation, maybe that says something about me? I have always believed I was pretty ordinary, I’ve never craved for stardom although I must admit it has appeared in my dreams, though that’s just my subconscious talking! This ordinariness is what led me to the flattering perception that I would have a smooth sailing life but I believe everyone has that one event when the waves become too much and we find ourselves suddenly overboard. For me, it was when I was diagnosed with type one diabetes at the ripe age of thirteen. I couldn’t believe my luck and my mind told me at the time, this was what would define me. Ironically it turned out, that what I thought would drown me ended up doing more good for me than I could ever imagine. It let to the one most common and recurring thing in my life, the gym. Again, I am back to the plain and simple but the gym is one of the only constants I possess, a constant supply of wonder to my banal, everyday life. I can vividly reminisce on the first time I went, stepping out of my comfort zone with sweat running out of my palms was a challenge for me. But it turned out to be the single greatest decision I ever made. Now the thudding of weights and tune of hard work off the treadmill emulsify my anxiety and fill me with a glorious sense of wonder. Wonder about the amusement I find there and wonder why I was ever nervous to go in the first place. Before being diagnosed I was idle, waiting for the wonder in life to come knock on my front door but I soon learned that was not how it worked. I sought out the gym and in return it has granted me health, an improved social life and most importantly an anticipation for every tomorrow.

Its sometimes difficult to truly nail down what it is that bestows us with wonder and excitement. Aspiring for what might be is what I believe to be a principal feature to achieving both. We all must dream even if it is not meant to come true, it makes me feel as though there is an alternate improved life waiting for me with my name stamped on it. As Neil Armstrong said “mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man’s desire to understand”. However, I also find that existing in the present can be quintessential into constructing my ideal, joyous life. It is here that we learn the true meaning of emotions such as love and happiness that act as the foundations for a wonderfully splendid life.