24 is Long Over...and I've Fried Much Bigger Fish.

I wrote my first and only other blog post to date ("My Fear: Life after 24") three and a half years ago, and upon reading it today I find myself laughing. I want to go back in time and shake my younger self, to tell her to stop worrying and to realize how much loveliness she is going to encounter in her life. In case you haven't read it, my first blog post was written when I was 24 and it's about being fearful and uncertain about the future, in all facets of life: career, marriage, embracing societal norms, etc. But the experiences I've had since then have proven quite clearly to me that the future is never certain. You can plan all you like, do your research, pick a new job, find your soul mate...and then next year, realize you had it all wrong and have to start over again. I don't think you ever really reach that one proverbial light at the end of the tunnel; I think we hit many tunnels with many lights, and instead of waiting for things to get better or for a happy ending, I think what's important is knowing that happiness is always a choice, whether we're in the tunnels or in the lights.
Life has taken me down many tunnels since I was 24. Some much longer than I've ever experienced in my life before. I've gained new friends, lost old ones, changed jobs, moved apartments, and experienced an ongoing, debilitating health crisis (this is obviously the most significant event thus far). I'm still not married, and I'm still unsure as to what my dream career is. And yet, I am far more liberated now than I ever was at 24.

So, the future is never certain. This can be seen as quite scary and awful, because of all of the "what ifs." The worst things in the world can happen to us in the future, and "the future" can be as far away as 30 seconds. In the present economic crisis, people are nervous about losing their jobs and their homes. However, besides being scared of the future, there are two other options here. If your present reality isn't ideal, it can be quite freeing to know that the future is uncertain. Because the future can be entirely different from your current situation; you may receive a sudden email about a dream job, apply for it, and get it; or run into your dream man/woman the next time you go out for coffee. So why don't we think this way instead? Why do we assume that the worst is always lurking around the corner? Why can't the best be waiting for us instead? Isn't it just as easy to be hopeful or excited about the future as it is to be fearful of it? And doesn't it serve us better?

I'm not saying we need to be irresponsible and not save for rainy days. And I am aware that for a lot of people, things look quite bleak at the moment. So if it is difficult for you to feel hopeful about the future, there is another option here as well: try living in the present moment.

For those of us living in the fast-paced society of the U.S., this seems nearly impossible. In our world of multi-tasking, 12-hour work days, and fast food, we are literally propelled to begin thinking of the next task before the current one is even completed. Our present is spent contemplating our futures, and in the breaks in between tasks we ruminate about our pasts, about what went wrong and what we should have done differently. So often I hear people say, "Oh I miss being young, how easy things were then," or "My glory days were in college, and now it's all just downhill." One of my favorite authors is Wayne Dyer, and he comments on this phenomenon quite well. If we complete something over and over again, don't we eventually get better at it? And so, as we continue in life, shouldn't we get better and better at it? Shouldn't each year be better than the last?

If we really look back at our "glory days," I think most of us would realize that the picture we've painted in our minds isn't necessarily the truth. When we were younger, we weren't always reveling in our youth. I see that quite clearly when my little cousins visit; they can't wait to be "big kids." And they love displaying their age in their fingers and announcing exactly how far away they are from their next birthday, i.e. "I'm four and three-quarters, I'll be five soon!"

There was a story in Chicken Soup for the Soul (yes corny, but sooo good!) that went something like this:

When I was a child, I couldn't wait to grow up so that I could go to high school.
Once I got to high school, I couldn't wait to be sixteen so I could drive.
Once I was sixteen, I couldn't wait to be eighteen so I could graduate and go to college.
Once I got to college, I couldn't wait to graduate and start my career and create my own life.
Once I was working at my first job, I couldn't wait to get married.
Once I got married, I couldn't wait to have babies.
Once I had babies, I couldn't wait for them to grow up.
Once they grew up and left the house, I couldn't wait to retire.
And now I'm dying...and I wish I would have really lived.

It's lovely to reminisce, but when we begin missing our pasts so much that we are losing our present, and we spend so much of our present obssessing over our futures (as in the excerpt above), then what we really end up doing is missing out on our lives. It's happening, our lives are happening, right now, all the time, and we're missing it.

It's funny too, because when I read the excerpt above I think about how many people would have loved the life the author had. She was able to go to college - right now, many kids are having to put off college because money is too tight in the family, or others will never be able to go. She had a job right out of college - most graduates today are struggling to find jobs. She got married and had children, and she retired...it may seem ordinary to a lot of people, but I have girlfriends who are literally DYING to get married and have children, and so far it's been a no-go. And retirement is a distant dream to a lot of older people who lost their savings in the financial downturn.

Here's a thought. How about we stay in the present moment and revel in all that we do have. Let's stop dwelling on what could have been. Let's stop delaying our happiness with statements like, "I'll be happy when (fill in the blank) happens." Because let me tell you, once you get what you want, you will be happy for a little while, but then you will move on to wanting something new. It's a very conditional happiness, a very conditional life to lead.

About 2 months after my last posting at age 24, I began experiencing extreme pain in my left foot due to an incorrect casting of a sprained ankle. I've had chronic pain in both feet ever since (the right one began due to compensation). My life has become extremely restricted, and I have to take cabs literally EVERYWHERE - even a block is too far to walk. There have been times when I have been reduced to crawling around on the floor, or using a wheelchair, or a cane. I have better days, and I have worse days. But what keeps me going, what keeps me in check, is not dwelling on what I have lost. Because I truly believe with all of my heart that I have gained far more from this experience than I could have ever lost. I used to replay the accident over and over again in my mind, analyzing what I could have done differently, driving myself crazy over ever detail. I became sad and depressed, and I felt utterly lost.

But over time, I learned to be grateful for everything I do have, which is quite a lot. I have supportive family and friends, a wonderful mother, and an understanding workplace. I live in downtown Chicago, I have a fantastic boyfriend who has stuck by me and held my hand through everything. And I had those things before, when I was 24, but I took them for granted and never appreciated them. Far and above, the most important thing I have gained is perspective, compassion, and empathy. I've become a far more compassionate and forgiving person; chronic pain is quite humbling, and your judgements become much less important. I've become a much better friend, I truly empathize with others who are suffering, and my heart has grown tremendously. I love others like I never have before, and I see hope in places where most others only see gloom. Because I know how much good can come from pain; I've experienced it first hand.

I do get sad sometimes, and I definitely break down at times over the things I can't do. I'm still a work in progress. Overall, I know this experience happened to grow me in ways that were not possible before. And for that, I am immensely thankful.

I still see so much beauty in my future. I see myself walking and healthy again, dancing again, traveling the world again. Sure, I could imagine the worst. But I choose not to. And I keep looking for new things to try, to get me better, new treatments, new doctors, and alternative therapies. Then there are days when the pain is almost completely gone; if it can go away for a day, I am sure it can go away forever. In my heart, I know I will get there eventually.

The biggest thing I want is for my experiences and lessons to have not been in vain. I want to pass this on to as many people as I can...starting with this blog.

Yes, I wish I could go back in time and shake my younger self. She had a completely healthy body and she took it for granted. She had so many wonderful things, and she was only focused on what she didn't have, and how great things used to be.

There's also a secret here. There are many tunnels, and many lights. But at any time, you can turn any of your tunnels into light. It's your choice to feel how you want to feel, to focus on what you want to focus on. So my hope is that this little posting gave you some inspiration to begin spending more of your lives in the lights, and less in the tunnels.

My Fear: Life after 24

You know when people asked you throughout your life questions you could blow off by stating
your age? For instance, "What college do you want to go to" could be flung aside with, "I don't know, I'm only 10." This was an acceptable response and was usually met with, "Yea, you have plenty of time." Or, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" could be quieted with "I'm not sure, I'm only 14." My fear is the time when I can no longer answer questions this way. When I can no longer blame my youth for uncertainties surrounding my future.

I feel that 24 is the cutoff.

I realized this recently when someone asked me what kind of graduate studies I'd like to pursue and my immediate answer didn't seem quite as appropriate as it once did. "I haven't decided yet, I'm only 24." It bothered me after I said it; am I really too young to know? Shouldn't I know? Is something wrong with me that I don't know? When am I supposed to know? When has this gone too far? At what age?

This began my recent fear of 25 and my analysis that perhaps at 24 this is still an acceptable answer to the obnoxious questions. I do think 24 is pushing it, but I have to cling to what little time I have left (I have about four months left to go!).

Why 24, you ask? This was the answer I came to after a careful consideration of life in one's 20s. Please keep in mind that the following analysis is brought to you from the perspective of an Indian-American female whose parents and community have set guidelines for her entire life; career, timing, education, etc. (more details to come in a different posting):

At 24, you are just barely in your mid-20s. You've graduated from undergrad, you've been working for a couple of years, and you're basically still firmly entrenched in your 20s. 30 is still years away. However, at 25, you are officially in your mid-twenties--a frightening territory. If you round up, 25 is 30. And don't even get me started on my fear of 30.

In your twenties is when marriage (for us poor brown folk) becomes the topic of every family gathering, auntie/uncle dinner party, etc. You have random aunties you haven't spoken to in years calling you to inform you of the "nice Guju-Patel doctor who graduated from Northwestern and has a 5 bedroom condo in the Gold Coast. He is looking for a nice girl to settle down with. Please call, Beta! This one will get away!" However, I have used the "I'm only 24" excuse to dissuade the interest, and though it is not as strong as "I'm only 22" or "I'm only 23," I think it (barely) still works. The difference is, when I was only 22 and 23, the other person's reaction was much more resigned. At 24, I'm getting a new reaction; "Beta, yes you are 24, but you should be 'looking' now, you know, so you could be married by 26. You know those poor single ladkis in the late 20s--they may always be alone!" Hence my fear of 25. If the Indian-American society expects me to be married at 26, imagine the damn pressure there will be at 25. And furthermore, it is expected that your life and career is to be settled before marriage--I should already have gone to grad school and found the perfect job instead of flopping around trying to figure out what the hell's going on. So I have about 5 years of living to accomplish in this 4 month time span before 25. And it sure doesn't help that I'm female; we don't have the luxury of being eligible bachelors at 32 the way a male would be. After all, he would just be "successful" whereas I'd just be an old spinster maid (again, as a Desi female).

You know what's also upsetting, how I let these societal pressures get to me, as they have all my life. It sometimes feels like I'm in a tunnel, muddling my way through, waiting to find the light at the end where I'm supposed to be whole and happy with where I stand in life. But other times it feels like walking down the street in a beautiful city at night; there are so many possibilities of where to go, I just don't know how to choose...and I'm nervous about taking a wrong turn. I wanted to a be a lawyer pursuing political change; that idea was shot down by my parents who threatened to cut me off and flipped out until I ended up triple majoring to make them and myself happy; Political Science was acceptable if I also did Economics and Accounting.

And then, for reasons still unbeknownst to me, I actually went ahead to get a Master's degree in accounting and went on to work at an accounting firm in Chicago - not that it's been awful, but just different from what I'd originally intended. I followed the rules to get on the acceptable path of what a Desi child should be doing with her life; went to a good school, got a *good* job, where *good* is defined as well-paying, not necessarily satisfying or rewarding. And I thought after all that, maybe my parents and society would back off for a few years. I did everything they wanted me to, even if it meant biting my lip. And now I want to go and do what I actually wanted to do all along--pursue politics--and I'm so scared of walking off the path I've so carefully followed, and which I allowed to rule my little world. I'm so scared of what they'll think, how their opinions of me will change, how any career outside of medicine, engineering, and business just makes you someone who couldn't cut it, someone not *smart* enough to hack it.

But doesn't it take so much more courage to leave this path, to pursue a different route and maybe even find a pot of gold at the end of it? So shouldn't it be admired? When I meet other desi women who have pursued very non-traditional fields such as writing and music, I am in such awe and I have so much respect for them. So what am I waiting for?

Maybe I'm just waiting for 25.