For me, the desire exists less to get myself a degree than to

Host: The late afternoon sun filters through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. Outside, the city hums with the usual energy, but here, inside the small apartment, there’s a feeling of stillness. Jack and Jeeny sit across from each other, the remnants of a light lunch scattered across the table. There’s a slight tension in the air, as if they’re both poised on the edge of something — a new idea, a different path. The conversation is about to turn, and they both know it.

Jack: “So Joshua Jackson said he didn’t care about getting a degree. He just wanted to throw himself into the college experience, see if he could swim in the ‘brain pool,’” Jack says with a raised eyebrow, his voice skeptical but intrigued. He leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “That’s a hell of a thing to say. I mean, who wouldn’t want a degree, right? Why would you just want to ‘experience’ college, when you could be building something concrete?”

Jeeny: She smiles softly, her eyes focused on Jack. She’s thoughtful, her voice measured but warm. “I get it, though. I think there’s something liberating about what he said. College isn’t just about earning a degree — it’s about learning, not just in the classroom, but about yourself. About exploring the world in a way you can’t anywhere else.” She leans forward slightly, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “It’s the idea of diving in, of being fully immersed in an experience, of taking in everything it has to offer, not just as something to be checked off a list. It’s more than a piece of paper; it’s about the whole journey.”

Jack: “But doesn’t that sound like avoiding responsibility? College is a lot of work. You go there to learn, to build something solid, right? Not just to swim around in some abstract experience.” His tone is sharp, but there’s a trace of curiosity underneath the defense. “What happens when you just throw yourself into it and don’t take anything seriously? What’s left when the experience is over?”

Jeeny: She laughs softly, but there’s no mockery in her voice. “I don’t think he’s saying don’t take anything seriously. I think he’s saying that sometimes you need to let yourself experience life without worrying about every little detail, every little plan. It’s about immersing yourself in the flow, not just for the end result, but because the process itself is part of the growth.” She watches him carefully, letting the words settle between them. “Sometimes, we focus too much on the destination and forget that the journey is where we learn the most about who we really are.”

Jack: “So you think it’s about the freedom to just be open to whatever happens, to learn without the weight of expectations?” He leans forward, his expression more introspective now. “I get that. It’s just hard for me to let go of the idea that everything has to lead to something concrete. A degree. A career. Something you can point to.” He pauses, as if testing the idea. “What if you end up with nothing but the experience? Is that enough?”

Jeeny: “Maybe the experience is enough,” she says, her voice more soft and reflective now. “You don’t always need to have a tangible result. Sometimes the way you change, the way you grow, is the reward. It’s about being open to what comes, without knowing exactly how it will all turn out. It’s about embracing the mystery of it all.” She smiles, a gentle curve of her lips. “Think about it: college is supposed to be this time of discovery. It’s not all about grades or degrees. It’s about finding your place in the world, figuring out who you are, and experiencing life in a way that you can’t when you’re stuck in the routine of day-to-day life.”

Jack: “I don’t know, Jeeny. That sounds like a lot of risk. Throwing yourself into something and hoping it works out. What if it doesn’t?” His voice lowers, as if pondering the weight of her words. “What if you end up lost, or worse — unprepared for the future? What happens when you realize you’ve been swimming but never really learned how to stay afloat?”

Jeeny: “But isn’t that the whole point of being in the brain pool?” She smiles again, her eyes lighting up with the joy of the metaphor. “You have to jump in to know if you can swim. You can’t just sit on the edge of the pool and wonder what it would feel like to dive in. Sure, it’s risky, but that’s where you find your strength. That’s where you find the confidence to face whatever comes after. You can’t plan for everything. Some things, you have to experience to understand.”

Host: The room seems to settle, the soft murmur of their conversation hanging in the air like a question yet to be answered. The world outside continues its busy dance, but within these walls, the two of them are caught in this quiet moment of reflection — trying to understand whether the leap into the unknown is worth the risk. The warmth of the room seems to wrap around them, offering some comfort as Jack’s gaze drifts from Jeeny to the window and back again.

Jack: “Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s something to just diving in. But it’s still hard for me to think that not having a clear goal, a clear purpose, is enough.” He runs a hand through his hair, the frustration evident but softened by the seeds of doubt Jeeny has planted. “What if the experience leaves you with nothing to show for it? What’s left when the dust settles?”

Jeeny: “Maybe the experience is enough. Maybe the connections you make, the ways you change as a person, the lessons you learn — that’s enough to carry you forward. The degree may be what you get on paper, but the experience is what stays with you.” She reaches across the table, her fingers brushing against his hand in a simple, grounding gesture. “You don’t always need to see the end result to know it was worth it. Sometimes, the most important things are the things you can’t see yet.”

Jack: He looks at her, his expression softening, the weight of the conversation lingering between them. “Maybe I’ve been too focused on the result. Maybe it’s time to think about the journey a little more.” He pauses, almost unsure of himself, but then nods slowly. “I’m not sure I’m ready to jump in completely yet. But maybe I’ll start by putting my toes in the water.”

Jeeny: “That’s all it takes, Jack. Just a little at a time. The rest will follow.” Her smile is soft but knowing, as if she can already see the change beginning, even if he can’t fully feel it yet.

Host: The room is quiet again, but the air between them feels lighter now, as though the question of what it means to truly experience life has shifted ever so slightly. The world outside continues to move, but inside, Jack and Jeeny have found a small space for reflection, a place to think about whether the goal is the prize, or whether the journey itself is the reward.