Meaning of life?
Huh.
Nearly seven years after my last post. And I STILL feel almost exactly the same!
Bloody hell.
So. I'm an entrepreneur now, have a two-going-on-three year old company (no, I'm STILL not married, nor baby-carriaged) and am still pretty clueless.
Hm. I sense a theme here.
I've been thinking (ha!) about life over the past few days. Haven't quite yet figured out why it is that "growing up" seems so stressful to me. Starting Aeka has drop-kicked me into becoming an adult in some ways, but I'm still stymied as to the contribution that I'm supposed to make to humanity. Like, what's my life supposed to be about, dude?
We have the nice little career-family-retirement progression charted out for us by a benevolent (?) society. And I'm really not the adventurous type. I like boundaries. I like checking boxes, and having lists. Bit weak at sticking to them, maybe, but I like 'em.
Perhaps that's what scares me about growing up. The finality of life-changing (or life-affirming) decisions. You don't get a second chance! Not one that's exactly the same. You'd be older when a second chance comes around, or more jaded, or less optimistic or more cautious - you get the drift. I get why society gives you an out with the option to conform to type, I really do. It's safe, it's warm, it's cosy. It's easier than struggling through, trying to hack a new path in the wilderness.
It's very, very, very tempting.
All of which make perfect sense to me even today.
Hit eighteen, and you've got a couple of decisions that you in your ever-stinkin' glory are responsible for. Twenty-five, and there's more of them. So by the time you don't need binoculars to look at thirty, hoo-boy! Is that Lego-building getting dangerously shaky!
And I'm basically risk-averse. Plus my star sign is Aries. Talk about a study in contradictions! Lol.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, in this world of to-the-minute updates, and instant, free judgement, and under-the-microscope living, to make a mistake - or rather, to admit to making a mistake to the social-media-loving-rest-of-the-world-that-actually-doesn't-care-but-that-YOU-think-cares-enormously - is scary.
Plus it's probably going to be available somewhere for future generations to look at (they'd care even less than the non-caring current population, I imagine, but my ego can't wrap it's head around that. I mean who'd not want to know about me?).
In my head, with its frowning, ponderous, critical jury of one, setting my own goalposts, my own milestones, deciding my own direction triggers mind-numbing paralysis.
End credits: a cartoon figure that runs away, arms pinwheeling.
Nearly seven years after my last post. And I STILL feel almost exactly the same!
Bloody hell.
So. I'm an entrepreneur now, have a two-going-on-three year old company (no, I'm STILL not married, nor baby-carriaged) and am still pretty clueless.
Hm. I sense a theme here.
I've been thinking (ha!) about life over the past few days. Haven't quite yet figured out why it is that "growing up" seems so stressful to me. Starting Aeka has drop-kicked me into becoming an adult in some ways, but I'm still stymied as to the contribution that I'm supposed to make to humanity. Like, what's my life supposed to be about, dude?
We have the nice little career-family-retirement progression charted out for us by a benevolent (?) society. And I'm really not the adventurous type. I like boundaries. I like checking boxes, and having lists. Bit weak at sticking to them, maybe, but I like 'em.
Perhaps that's what scares me about growing up. The finality of life-changing (or life-affirming) decisions. You don't get a second chance! Not one that's exactly the same. You'd be older when a second chance comes around, or more jaded, or less optimistic or more cautious - you get the drift. I get why society gives you an out with the option to conform to type, I really do. It's safe, it's warm, it's cosy. It's easier than struggling through, trying to hack a new path in the wilderness.
It's very, very, very tempting.
Here's my theory regarding my mild phobia of growing up (not gerascophobia, maybe a touch of
puella aeternam [yes, bracket-within-a-bracket, I Googled Peter Pan syndrome, found out it was called puer aeternus or "eternal boy" and then Google Translated my relevant gender, so there]):
Childhood was easy for me, because I had a map with the good, solid signposts and milestones clearly marked for me. "Do your best at school". "Pass exam with good marks". "Now pass this one with good marks". "Engage in extracurricular activities". "Eat". "Sleep". "Love God, your family and friends, and be a good child".
All of which make perfect sense to me even today.
Hit eighteen, and you've got a couple of decisions that you in your ever-stinkin' glory are responsible for. Twenty-five, and there's more of them. So by the time you don't need binoculars to look at thirty, hoo-boy! Is that Lego-building getting dangerously shaky!
And I'm basically risk-averse. Plus my star sign is Aries. Talk about a study in contradictions! Lol.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, in this world of to-the-minute updates, and instant, free judgement, and under-the-microscope living, to make a mistake - or rather, to admit to making a mistake to the social-media-loving-rest-of-the-world-that-actually-doesn't-care-but-that-YOU-think-cares-enormously - is scary.
Plus it's probably going to be available somewhere for future generations to look at (they'd care even less than the non-caring current population, I imagine, but my ego can't wrap it's head around that. I mean who'd not want to know about me?).
In my head, with its frowning, ponderous, critical jury of one, setting my own goalposts, my own milestones, deciding my own direction triggers mind-numbing paralysis.
End credits: a cartoon figure that runs away, arms pinwheeling.
[Image Credit: Shutterstock/Google]
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