At the quarter-life crossroads
They say that at this age, a quarter-life crisis hits you. At this age, you are at the crossroads—you’re neither fully here nor there. Living in a country with tight-knit relations, binding families together, there is still a lot of dependence (or meddling, depending on the situation) on family members.
In more liberal countries, being past a certain age is a signal to live independently, and it’s not optional. There is a mix and match of situations here at home. Some born to families with so-called generational wealth can live with the safety net of their families. They can venture into living life to the “fullest” of what the mainstream social order dictates—travel the world, explore their passions and live comfortably. It’s been a subject of both ridicule and general commentary. How we wish we lived and live without fear of leaping into the unknown.
How we wish we were lucky, too.
Ideal selves
But luck outlives its usefulness when everyone is just so. It’s relative. One can be luckier than the other. It’s often been said that we have everything in life (and in death). And so, this age makes you reflect on how you were raised while consciously carving your path. That tense consciousness haunts me to the core. It permeates every single thought, like an endless panorama of possibilities that might not even happen. It’s constantly creating and destroying, it builds and it destructs. Self-awareness, or the lack of it, is both a boon and a bane.
Being at this age makes us also reflect on our ideals. We are no longer the ideal selves we used to be. The youthful exuberance has fled. But we are also not old enough to say we have experienced everything about life. The existential dilemma makes us think about our past decisions and philosophies. Looking back at our old social media posts makes us cringe at the past versions of ourselves.
I find myself at the intersection of these thoughts. On some days, I wake up with a mix of all these thoughts in my head. Scenarios play in my head—the what ifs, the future that has yet to happen. They start to play randomly like a corrupted compact disk skipping frames.
More passionate
There are moments and bits and pieces to which we cling to. We recognize that our circle is smaller than before. We discern emotions far more vividly. We yearn for depth rather than breadth. It’s not so much as chasing endlessly. Pauses are no longer signs of weakness but staggered wisdom.
We are, however, more passionate about things we really want to do. Having benefited from the age of political correctness, we are not naïve to sensibilities. We are more aware of the traumas that dragged generations before us. We are more inclusive. We are willing to be corrected. We are more embracing and empathetic, cautious yet still optimistic.
Every generation had something to fear about the future. Generations before feared the destruction of war. We fear the destruction of our very home. We fear we will no longer have a habitable planet to live in because of overexploitation of natural resources. It’s riveting that our present choices are shaped by how far we look into the future.
So yes, while the passing generation would whine that there is no hope for the next, it is simply not true. There is so much to be hopeful for as we become more self-aware and as we learn from the lessons of the mistakes of the past.
At the crossroads, it’s an opportune time to pause, take stock, reevaluate and take a little step forward.
