Are You There, World? It’s Me, I Think.
It’s with increasing frequency these days that I find myself wondering what the point of life is. What makes each of us gravitate towards our respective interests, what makes us like one thing and dislike another, what makes me step so brazenly down one path when I could be stepping equally as brazenly down another. I think this is what they call a quarter-life crisis.
My alarm goes off at 5:30am. I go to the gym, I make breakfast, I take a few moments to savor my coffee. I scrape at the edges of my mug with a spoon to make sure I’m getting all of the espresso foam off of it. (My favorite part, other than the first sip.) I head to the office. I work from 9-5:30, sometimes 6, sometimes 6:30. I pull analytics. I build a copy deck and a sitemap for a new website. I make a moodboard. I do not change the world. I walk home, and I wonder where everyone I pass is heading. On Monday I listened to 2010 Justin Bieber while I walked. On Tuesday I listened to a meditation.
I follow the same routine, strictly, for five days in a row. Sometimes it feels like my sanity depends on it. Who’s to say the world won’t end if I go off book?
On the weekends I drink, I laugh, I flirt, I dance. Starting next weekend I’ll go to the farmers’ market every Saturday morning. Last weekend I read the last 100 pages of The Song of Achilles and cried for the last 50. “In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless-” I’m tearing up again.
And I wonder: will it always be like this? Will my life always be a series of routines, repeated with only the slightest of variances, until the end of time? Why change what I know? Then again, why stick to it? How did I get slotted into this particular land of life? Why aren’t I a competitive skier living in the mountains of Utah? I don’t think I’d want to be, I’m just wondering.
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Ever on the hunt for ways to define myself in a way other than “I used to be a dancer,” or “I work in marketing,” I fixate on things that pique my interest. For the past few weeks it’s been things that make me feel pretty and girly. (I find these especially useful for times when I don’t.) I tie ribbons in my hair. I put on the tiniest dot of blush in the morning, even though my cheeks are naturally rosy and one misstep will have me looking flushed all day. I buy lace-trimmed tops and lots of sundresses for spring, which I’m hoping and praying is just around the corner.
Last month I fixated on 0.5 selfies. I finally perfected the angle and timing of them (the secret is using the 3 second self timer). Next month, I’m thinking of taking up knitting. I can’t seem to stick to one thing for too long these days.
And through it all, I wonder, what’s the point? Does any of this really contribute to who I am at my core? Will it impact my impact on the world? Once, someone I hadn’t seen in a long time told me that when they read my writing, they could hear my voice. I think about that a lot. I liked the feeling of knowing I’d made some sort of impression, however fleeting. Sometimes I think about friends that I used to be close with, but time and distance have wedged their way between us. I wonder if they ever think about me. I’m not sure I’ve left an impression in a while.
I think (and I hope) that’s what this season of life is for - to figure out how and why and who I want to impact. Maybe my routines will change, or maybe they won’t. Maybe I’ll find some new calling, or maybe I’ll wake up one day and realize that my calling is something I’ve been doing all along. Maybe I don’t have a calling.
This is definitely a quarter-life crisis.