I kind of thought that, with quitting my PhD program and moving to Maine, I had survived my quarter-life crisis and could now move confidently forward. I figured that I had successfully turned my back on the non-calling that I had been pursuing and was heading in the right direction.
I was wrong.
Yesterday, on the ungodly long drive home from work (1 hour and 20 minutes one way), I found myself shattered by sudden, terrible doubt. Was I completely nuts and misguided? Had I left one dead-end street only to end up on another?
Let me explain. I am very satisfied with how my own life is going right now; I believe that I am starting to live more responsibly, more like I think I should. I have a job that is actually making a difference. I'm constantly reading and learning and thinking. These are all good things.
No, the reason I'm still in that mid-20s crisis is not because of my own life, but because of the lives of others. I believe that I've found something great, a wonderful inner peace stemming from a decision to ignore the demands of the world and to live for the universal. And I want other people to discover that, too.
As much as it's creepy, it's kind of like I've had a religious awakening. I want to be a prophet, a preacher, a missionary, filling the world with the truths I've found.
Naturally, the first people exposed to this kind of thinking are my friends. I think the first time I started talking about the very first stirrings of thought was a few years ago. A few friends and I were laying around a living room in the wee hours of the morning after consuming a good deal of beer and I announced that we should all just move to a big house in the country together and have a commune. Everyone was enthusiastic. But the next morning, sober and faced with "real life", they let go of that vision and went back to business as usual. But I never let it go.
Maybe that's my problem. Things that look like fantasy to most people look like reality to me. And things that look like reality to most people look like fantasy to me.
I am worn out and frustrated with the attempt to make everyone else look at the world through my crystal spectacles. Friends whose advice played a key role in my decision to quit my PhD are now pursuing graduate degrees they don't really want. Friends who I looked to as kindred spirits, as inspiration, are seeking worldly recognition and prestige that I assumed they despised. Luke and I find ourselves mostly alone in our quest for a life of peace and freedom.
We know someone who is a banker. He used to be our friend, but he is becoming more and more his career and less and less the person we knew and loved. I'm scared that some of our other friends will fall into the same trap.
One of my best friends (who told me last year, "If you want to live in a house in the woods and be a farmer, just do it.") has decided to go to law school while just a few months ago she was adamant that she would never do so. Her father sat her down and convinced her to go (read: he gave her a guilt trip about "not making anything of herself"). I'm scared that she'll go the way of the banker--becoming a lawyer will take up so much space in her life that there won't be room for the things that once defined her and made me love her.
I have another friend who is starting med-school. I'm scared of the same thing happening there. Who will he be, I wonder, when all the training is done and he's starting his career? His wife is, I think, more on the same page with me, but it's still to early to tell what will happen.
Why do I have to sit and watch my friends fall prey to the sneaky temptation to be something in the world's eyes? This is my crisis. If I have something that I believe is true, I want it to be universal, or at least to extend to the group of people who I hold closest to my heart (I'm glad Luke thinks like me!). It is extremely difficult to keep faith in my own decisions, in my own choices, in my own beliefs, while watching people I love reject them, even if it is unintentional.
I am particularly discouraged when I talk on the phone with my friends and know that they have the same thoughts in their heads as I do in mine. Was I a fool for listening to those thoughts, for following through with them? I need confirmation, from somewhere, that what I am doing is really more than fantasy.
--Allison
I was wrong.
Yesterday, on the ungodly long drive home from work (1 hour and 20 minutes one way), I found myself shattered by sudden, terrible doubt. Was I completely nuts and misguided? Had I left one dead-end street only to end up on another?
Let me explain. I am very satisfied with how my own life is going right now; I believe that I am starting to live more responsibly, more like I think I should. I have a job that is actually making a difference. I'm constantly reading and learning and thinking. These are all good things.
No, the reason I'm still in that mid-20s crisis is not because of my own life, but because of the lives of others. I believe that I've found something great, a wonderful inner peace stemming from a decision to ignore the demands of the world and to live for the universal. And I want other people to discover that, too.
As much as it's creepy, it's kind of like I've had a religious awakening. I want to be a prophet, a preacher, a missionary, filling the world with the truths I've found.
Naturally, the first people exposed to this kind of thinking are my friends. I think the first time I started talking about the very first stirrings of thought was a few years ago. A few friends and I were laying around a living room in the wee hours of the morning after consuming a good deal of beer and I announced that we should all just move to a big house in the country together and have a commune. Everyone was enthusiastic. But the next morning, sober and faced with "real life", they let go of that vision and went back to business as usual. But I never let it go.
Maybe that's my problem. Things that look like fantasy to most people look like reality to me. And things that look like reality to most people look like fantasy to me.
I am worn out and frustrated with the attempt to make everyone else look at the world through my crystal spectacles. Friends whose advice played a key role in my decision to quit my PhD are now pursuing graduate degrees they don't really want. Friends who I looked to as kindred spirits, as inspiration, are seeking worldly recognition and prestige that I assumed they despised. Luke and I find ourselves mostly alone in our quest for a life of peace and freedom.
We know someone who is a banker. He used to be our friend, but he is becoming more and more his career and less and less the person we knew and loved. I'm scared that some of our other friends will fall into the same trap.
One of my best friends (who told me last year, "If you want to live in a house in the woods and be a farmer, just do it.") has decided to go to law school while just a few months ago she was adamant that she would never do so. Her father sat her down and convinced her to go (read: he gave her a guilt trip about "not making anything of herself"). I'm scared that she'll go the way of the banker--becoming a lawyer will take up so much space in her life that there won't be room for the things that once defined her and made me love her.
I have another friend who is starting med-school. I'm scared of the same thing happening there. Who will he be, I wonder, when all the training is done and he's starting his career? His wife is, I think, more on the same page with me, but it's still to early to tell what will happen.
Why do I have to sit and watch my friends fall prey to the sneaky temptation to be something in the world's eyes? This is my crisis. If I have something that I believe is true, I want it to be universal, or at least to extend to the group of people who I hold closest to my heart (I'm glad Luke thinks like me!). It is extremely difficult to keep faith in my own decisions, in my own choices, in my own beliefs, while watching people I love reject them, even if it is unintentional.
I am particularly discouraged when I talk on the phone with my friends and know that they have the same thoughts in their heads as I do in mine. Was I a fool for listening to those thoughts, for following through with them? I need confirmation, from somewhere, that what I am doing is really more than fantasy.
--Allison
If anyone can prove it to the world, it will be you, Allison. I have complete faith that you are where you are supposed to be. The feeling, or need to conform can be overwhelming, but I think as time goes on there will be more people owning up to their dreams as you are with yours. You are paving the way for many people, so keep up your courage!
ReplyDeleteChandra