Wednesday, March 19, 2008

?

I sat with my roommate, Lucy (Danielle is in Colorado on vacation--we miss her!!). She wanted ice cream and I went with. I was pissed when I learned they no longer served the lemon ice. So pissed, I stubbornly refused to eat anything. Those bastards.


We sat there...both of us in an empty space, sitting in a cold booth and filling the air between us with hard, frigid questions--thinking about the future, rather than basking in the here and now as we so often do. Trying to decide where on earth we would be a year or a decade or 25 years from now.


And we contemplated what the signs were, and more importantly, what they meant.


Why were we here, living in this city together--what were we being prepared for?


What did these people who strolled into our lives really mean? Could we accept them without judgement in our minds that still long for the juvenile hopefulness of optimism and understanding...we hoped that we could.


What lessons are we supposed to take from those we looked up to in college--those who molded us from flighty 18 year olds to seemingly competent academics who analyzed the world and the issues surrounding it...why were they there--and why did we know them? We knew we would change in college, but I don't think we anticipated the way our mindset would change. What were we supposed to take away from all of this?


And then pragmatically, we continued thinking, is little change at in life and at work a sign that you are doing well where you are, or a sign that whatever is controlling the universe is trying to make it easier for you to move on and find your true passion?


We're in our mid-twenties. The oldest we've ever been, but in the eyes of so many others, still "so young." And we sat there--she shared her cookie dough ice cream, and we wondered--what is next? And when does this feeling that you are out there floating without direction-- floating in the midst of the 'then' and the 'future'-- come to an end? When will we figure it out? And more importantly, how do we make the right decisions?

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Not that much older than you-but as a almost 30, with kids, mortgages, car notes, college savings, etc...I can say that those thoughts haven't totally escaped the coop. Good luck.

Kara said...

Being the oldest one to read your blog (I think) I'll give you my 2 cents worth...That is what your 20's is like. Trying to figure stuff out. Then somewhere in your 30's you relax a bit and I'm thinking the 40's will be even better. So in the words of Jeremy - Keep on Keepin' on. You are way ahead of most 20's out there.

E said...

No, I think I am the oldest one out here. And in your forties you have to do it all over again I think.
The existential questions keep revealing themselves.
What do I value and do those values inform my life? And if not what must I change to make sure my life, the actual daily bits, fulfill the values?
If you love to travel, are you doing plenty of it? If you want kids and marriage are you dating prospects and rejecting the ones who fill the
time nicely, but really just get in the way?
Living with intention requires us to ask the questions and fill in the blanks. You are doing it just right I think....

laurwilk said...

While some people sing in the shower, I tend to go into crazy dazes about how small I REALLY am. Sometimes I get overwhelmed and a bit scared by these thoughts. It's strange to think there is more to the world than my family and friends and the 'immediate'.

I usually then go into obsessive thoughts out about why I chose Cambodia, what I am doing in New York, and whether or not I will ever stop longing for Iowa and gravel roads. The conclusion I always come to though is that we are so incredibly fortunate that we are able to ask these questions. Our mothers didn't get to question nearly this much, things were already set out for them. (They were busy getting us out the door and to Pom Poms at the Y.)

We really should appreciate the questions, because without them life would be boring. We can ask the question because we are able to eventually declare an answer, our own personal answer, which is a luxury that so few in the world will ever have.

To ask a question is freedom.

(Maybe I should start blogging after all?)

laurwilk said...

While some people sing in the shower, I tend to go into crazy dazes about how small I REALLY am. Sometimes I get overwhelmed and a bit scared by these thoughts. It's strange to think there is more to the world than my family and friends and the 'immediate'.

I usually then go into obsessive thoughts out about why I chose Cambodia, what I am doing in New York, and whether or not I will ever stop longing for Iowa and gravel roads. The conclusion I always come to though is that we are so incredibly fortunate that we are able to ask these questions. Our mothers didn't get to question nearly this much, things were already set out for them. (They were busy getting us out the door and to Pom Poms at the Y.)

We really should appreciate the questions, because without them life would be boring. We can ask the question because we are able to eventually declare an answer, our own personal answer, which is a luxury that so few in the world will ever have.

To ask a question is freedom.

(Maybe I should start blogging after all?)