Mandelbrot
The following is a prepared speech for Project 2: “Writing a Speech with Purpose” in Toastmasters Pathways Level 1. The speech aims to share a personal story that connects with universal themes of change and acceptance. It was adapted from my original essay.
Introduction
“Will it stay here forever, Baba?” My five-year-old (he is currently seven at the time of this speech) son Hamza pointed at our sandcastle. We’d spent the last hour building it together on the beach. I knew my answer would upset him.
“No, buddy. The waves will wash it away soon.”
His face fell. Then came the pout, the crossed arms, and the foot stamp I knew so well.
This wasn’t surprising. At home, Hamza is our family’s master builder. His Lego towers take over our living room. Move one brick, and you’re in big trouble. In his world, everything he builds should stay exactly as he left it.
Body
Watching him that day, I saw myself in him. When I was younger, I thought life was just like building with Legos. If you followed the instructions and worked hard enough, everything would stay perfect forever.
Didn’t you tell yourself that once your Chartered Accountancy is completed, everything will be alright? But we all know that wasn’t the case.
Because life has taught us something different. Things fall apart. Rooms get messy. Plants die if we don’t water them. Friends move away. Change happens whether we like it or not.
You see…
Scientists have a word for this. They call it entropy - nature’s way of saying nothing stays the same forever…
Think about your phone. Even the newest, shiniest phone will get slower and older. Your car needs repairs. Your house needs fixing. Everything around us naturally moves from order to disorder.
At first, this really bothered me. I fought against it. I tried to keep everything perfect, just like Hamza with his Legos. But fighting change is like trying to hold back the ocean - it’s exhausting and impossible.
You mature and accept life when you realize that the secret isn’t to fight against change. It’s to work with it. Like a garden - we can’t stop leaves from falling or weeds from growing, but we can tend to it regularly. We can plant new flowers. We can make something beautiful, even if it won’t last forever.
Conclusion
These days, when I build sandcastles with Hamza, I try to teach him something new. “Look how much fun we’re having building this,” I tell him. “Tomorrow, we can build an even better one.”
Because that’s the real magic - not in making things last forever, but in enjoying them while they’re here. In accepting that change is part of life’s adventure. And maybe, just maybe, my son is starting to understand this too. Last week, after his Lego spaceship fell apart, he smiled and said, “That’s okay, Dad. I can build a better one.”