Thank You Pinterest, For the Opposite of an Existential Crisis
Today I was scrolling through Pinterest, as one does when they are twenty and it's a Friday night and they have nowhere in particular to be yet still want to procrastinate starting homework and being responsible. I spend a lot of time reading poetry and other pretty words, so my feed is pretty full of those types of posts, which makes me very happy. Then I ran across this quote:
"you thought that being young would be many things. skipping school and running through fields, sitting in the sun with friends. going to parties, coming home late and not remembering it the next day. taking buses and trains, not caring where they went so long as you were with those few people. kissing cute boys, an dressing up to go on first dates. sitting in coffee shops, talking about everything and nothing. you expected adventures, stories that you could tell your grandkids one day.
"you didn't expect to be stuck in the same monotonous routine. going to school, having to face people you strongly dislike on a daily basis.feeling worthless, and so used to being tired that it is now a part of you and you can't remember the last time you felt awake. feeling pressured, trapped, like there will never be a way out, and most of all, you feel
alone."
I read through it a couple of times, and paused. Now, I am not going to pretend I only value or save words of hope--one of my goals this year was to be better at expressing and accepting a full range of emotions--but I did find myself struggling with this bit of prose in particular.
As I've mentioned in most of my recent posts, both on this blog and on other social media, things have been a bit rough lately. Mentally and emotionally, I have been all over the place, and even physically things have been a bit difficult. As I read this quote, I expected to wholeheartedly agree. I have certainly felt each of the things on the "reality" side of being young. After all, I have spent my whole life being told I'm mature for my age, wise beyond my years, a kind of old soul. I am certainly aware that not everything is rainbows and sunshine and Sundays in the park. However, I read this quote and just thought
"No."
Yes, things are hard. I would not say my life is easy, breezy, or carefree. Being young, especially in the world we live in now, is hard. There is so much expected of you and yet you are still so limited in what you can do. Our Earth is literally on fire, and there are so many reasons to believe that there is no point in even trying to mess with a bad situation, to try to find the good. Sometimes it seems like there isn't any good. There is so much that is painful and stressful and disheartening.
And yet:
I keep going back to the first half of that quote. I can say that in the last two years, I have done everything on that list. Heck, in the last month I have done nearly everything on that list. I have sat on trains and buses, and sure, I had somewhere I was planning on going, but being with the people sitting with me was the whole point in being where I was in that moment. Today some friends in my apartment complex invited me to sit with them in the sun.
Within the trials I have experienced, and the hardship I have endured, I have found countless adventures, large and small, and I think anyone who's spent any amount of time with me would agree that I have plenty of stories to tell my grandkids one day.
Honestly, reading this hecking depressing quote was something I really needed today. I've been pretty beaten down, especially this week. I've lost hours stressing that I grew up too quickly, and had lost my chance at being a kid, at being a young adult. I spend hours writing poetry and stumbling across philosophies that make my head spin, and yet I can't let them go. I worried that I didn't know how to act my age.
But here I am.
Maybe I am a bit existential. Maybe I collect responsibilities and anxieties in the way others collect keychains. Perhaps I am a collection of awkwardly worn sweaters and stressors, and I am well aware there are miles to go before I am where I dream of being. In many ways, I am sure I do not handle life the way people would assume someone at my age would. But I am still young, and I think I am better at being young than I thought.
It's been this weird moment of real-time hindsight, writing this. Often I assume that being as self aware as I feel is a weakness, something that cripples me and feeds into my doubt and struggles with how I perceive myself. However, I think being as deep of thought and wonder as I am is the only reason I can see this. It would be really easy to look at things as they are now, to weigh the number of hours lost this week to tears and panic, and think that where I am now is lacking. I feel like I should think I am failing, or that I've been cheated of the experiences I should be having. But you know what, I'm not. Sure, things are a mixed bag, but it always has been.
Listen, I'm not saying that everything in life can be solved with a positive mindset. My problems and current trials are certainly still here, and very real, and I am still struggling. And I am allowed to still be struggling. I'm writing this at 7:30 on a Friday night, and who knows? In a few hours I could be shaking again, on the verge of tears, terrified of what the next day or minute will bring. But just as my moments of suffering and fears are valid, so are moments when things are hopeful. It's okay to be a series of paradoxes and contradictions. I can have anxiety and hope simultaneously. It's one of the beautiful, horrible parts of being a human, and therefore hopelessly complex.
Things are not entirely perfect, but things are not entirely flawed either. I am not sure what lies ahead, but as one of my favorite hymns sings, "Keep thou my feet, I do not ask to see/The distant scene, one step enough for me."
"you thought that being young would be many things. skipping school and running through fields, sitting in the sun with friends. going to parties, coming home late and not remembering it the next day. taking buses and trains, not caring where they went so long as you were with those few people. kissing cute boys, an dressing up to go on first dates. sitting in coffee shops, talking about everything and nothing. you expected adventures, stories that you could tell your grandkids one day.
"you didn't expect to be stuck in the same monotonous routine. going to school, having to face people you strongly dislike on a daily basis.feeling worthless, and so used to being tired that it is now a part of you and you can't remember the last time you felt awake. feeling pressured, trapped, like there will never be a way out, and most of all, you feel
alone."
I read through it a couple of times, and paused. Now, I am not going to pretend I only value or save words of hope--one of my goals this year was to be better at expressing and accepting a full range of emotions--but I did find myself struggling with this bit of prose in particular.
As I've mentioned in most of my recent posts, both on this blog and on other social media, things have been a bit rough lately. Mentally and emotionally, I have been all over the place, and even physically things have been a bit difficult. As I read this quote, I expected to wholeheartedly agree. I have certainly felt each of the things on the "reality" side of being young. After all, I have spent my whole life being told I'm mature for my age, wise beyond my years, a kind of old soul. I am certainly aware that not everything is rainbows and sunshine and Sundays in the park. However, I read this quote and just thought
"No."
Yes, things are hard. I would not say my life is easy, breezy, or carefree. Being young, especially in the world we live in now, is hard. There is so much expected of you and yet you are still so limited in what you can do. Our Earth is literally on fire, and there are so many reasons to believe that there is no point in even trying to mess with a bad situation, to try to find the good. Sometimes it seems like there isn't any good. There is so much that is painful and stressful and disheartening.
And yet:
I keep going back to the first half of that quote. I can say that in the last two years, I have done everything on that list. Heck, in the last month I have done nearly everything on that list. I have sat on trains and buses, and sure, I had somewhere I was planning on going, but being with the people sitting with me was the whole point in being where I was in that moment. Today some friends in my apartment complex invited me to sit with them in the sun.
Within the trials I have experienced, and the hardship I have endured, I have found countless adventures, large and small, and I think anyone who's spent any amount of time with me would agree that I have plenty of stories to tell my grandkids one day.
Honestly, reading this hecking depressing quote was something I really needed today. I've been pretty beaten down, especially this week. I've lost hours stressing that I grew up too quickly, and had lost my chance at being a kid, at being a young adult. I spend hours writing poetry and stumbling across philosophies that make my head spin, and yet I can't let them go. I worried that I didn't know how to act my age.
But here I am.
Maybe I am a bit existential. Maybe I collect responsibilities and anxieties in the way others collect keychains. Perhaps I am a collection of awkwardly worn sweaters and stressors, and I am well aware there are miles to go before I am where I dream of being. In many ways, I am sure I do not handle life the way people would assume someone at my age would. But I am still young, and I think I am better at being young than I thought.
It's been this weird moment of real-time hindsight, writing this. Often I assume that being as self aware as I feel is a weakness, something that cripples me and feeds into my doubt and struggles with how I perceive myself. However, I think being as deep of thought and wonder as I am is the only reason I can see this. It would be really easy to look at things as they are now, to weigh the number of hours lost this week to tears and panic, and think that where I am now is lacking. I feel like I should think I am failing, or that I've been cheated of the experiences I should be having. But you know what, I'm not. Sure, things are a mixed bag, but it always has been.
Listen, I'm not saying that everything in life can be solved with a positive mindset. My problems and current trials are certainly still here, and very real, and I am still struggling. And I am allowed to still be struggling. I'm writing this at 7:30 on a Friday night, and who knows? In a few hours I could be shaking again, on the verge of tears, terrified of what the next day or minute will bring. But just as my moments of suffering and fears are valid, so are moments when things are hopeful. It's okay to be a series of paradoxes and contradictions. I can have anxiety and hope simultaneously. It's one of the beautiful, horrible parts of being a human, and therefore hopelessly complex.
Things are not entirely perfect, but things are not entirely flawed either. I am not sure what lies ahead, but as one of my favorite hymns sings, "Keep thou my feet, I do not ask to see/The distant scene, one step enough for me."
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