fig tree analogy: navigating post-grad life

picking my Fig before it falls, decision paralysis, Sylvia Plath's most quoted metaphor.

Plath was onto something. I analysed her work, The Bell Jar, in my foundation years (it was a requirement) and it made me ponder now. The fig analogy will forever be peak literature. I want to be everything.

I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig-tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet. (Plath 73)

People talk how this passage is an ode to limitless possibilities. How I see it, its clinical depression and crumbling of the core. The narrator is unable to move, choose, and watches every fig turn brown and wilt. It’s not whimsical nor performative.

The numbness feels custom-made for me, a graduate. Degree possessed, secured first apartment-lease, self-coded, career strolling, emotionally grounded, wedding mood board; every browse, another branch. I pressure myself to optimise and perfect each decision until I stop deciding. I substitute research cycles for real movement. I want more for myself and it has to be executed flawlessly.

In my head I see the branches clearly;

One fig is me enrolled into postgrad studies (preferably feminist and gender studies, or possibly World Literature).

One fig is me pursuing a 9-5 career in human resources.

One fig is slow, opening a business and travel.

Another is settling down, fulfilling myself with love and bloodlines.

And I’m sure there’s more Figs out there waiting for me, just not exposed. I’m not sure whether to celebrate the freedom of choice, or mourn it. I feel like Plath, unable to move, choose, decide, until my Figs start to sag.

I used to be so ahead of my time, ahead of everyone. Everything planned out and always 10 minutes early. That was my form of self-gratification. I was deeply content but deep inside, my desire outgrew the moment. Some nights I’m stuck in a loop; constant research, planning, doubting, then doing nothing. After four years of undergrad, I thought everything would be plain and apparent now, instead I walked away with more openings and choices. I curse myself for being so indecisive. It’s exhausting.

While Plath’s analogy left me starving, At-Tiin (The Fig) tells me different. The Quran reminds me that:

(95:4) لَقَدْ خَلَقْنَا ٱلْإِنسَـٰنَ فِىٓ أَحْسَنِ تَقْوِيمٍۢ

“We have indeed created man in the best form”

It’s a declaration. A guarantee. I wasn’t created lacking or halfway. I was crafted by divine hands with purpose. At-Tiin tells me I’m capable of good, and won’t rot with faith and intention by my side. The verse speaks to me, someone whos in self-doubt and comparison, wondering if I’ve already spent my best years, or still waiting and in ungrateful loop.

One quiet part of me that never folds is eventually picking something, and doing good with it. Choosing the best Fig and working with it, until I’m satisfied. Living well with it. However, now, I’m still deciding and currently hesitant. My time will come. I trust that God will let my fig tree bear fruits again.

I hope to never peak and will continuously evolve. Still figuring it out.