Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Here's what I know

Here's the biggest kept secret that nobody knows: No matter how old you are or how much outer appearances may project, nobody has their shit together. Not a clue. And everybody is secretly wondering if somebody else is suspecting them, everybody is waiting to be caught out on the fact that life is one big ad-hoc act, an improv stunt that lasts for longer than you expect it to.

Just about everybody in my family is going through some sort of vocational crisis. I helped my dad write his resume and cover letter the other day, talked to my mum about her change in work load, laughed at my brother for being on the verge of post grad and pushed my little sis in discovering possible channels post-highschool that aren't a University Arts Degree (I can say that because I've got two of 'em!).

No matter what age you are, how accomplished you may seem, how long or impressive your resume is, who really knows what they're doing? Or what they want to be doing?  Or that what they think they want to be doing is what they will actually be doing?

It comforts me to know that my twenties are set to be, and already have been, a series of wanderings. With an average of seven predicted job changes, the decade of the twenties is prime time for self-indulgent voyages into bizarre jobs and anecdotal adventures. Beyond that, however, I never thought that the wandering would continue. Not really.

When the biological clock starts ticking or I get tired of couch-surfing and eating migoreng for dinner, I will grow up and the never-ending fountain of possibilities will dry up. I'll spend my thirties secretly pining for my twenties while pretending I'm OK with burping babies and having 2 weeks of vacation at a year. I resigned myself to this idea that at age 29, I would hang up my Native-American-Head-Dress-Party-Hat and call it a decade.

But if people are still chop and changing in their fifties, this idea is a little shot to pieces. When I was seven and people asked me what I wanted to do, I thought I would know at seventeen, at seventeen, I thought I would know at Twenty-two. I'm twenty-two and have direction, but it's liable to change and to be honest I really still have no idea. Change and having no clue, both states of being of which I'm a little addicted to.

So here's the thing, it's too early to call but I probably will have no idea what I'm doing at thirty, at forty, at fifty and well into the wrinkled, cane-stick stage beyond that. But it's comforting, and exciting. God, I am a change addict. But there it is, the fun part. The not knowing, the never knowing.

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