20 something is a rough stage. There’s a lot of uncertainty, and a great emphasis on contributing to society. My friends and I are all grappling with grad school, jobs, relationships, and dreams deferred. We are quickly learning that the old adage that “you can be anything you want to be, if you really try,” might just be as false as the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny, and all those other stories adults tell kids to keep them in line.
When I’m are up to my eyeballs in to-do lists, it is tough to know if I’m really making progress. Exhausted by looking forward, I decided to try looking back.
The 80s were a good time for me. I know I was productive then. I was born right smack in the middle of ‘85, and I’m pretty sure that from then until the same time in ‘86 I was a highly accomplished individual. Yes, there were a lot of personal firsts in that short year. Every step I took or word I said was regarded as brilliant. Even if I bit, spit on, or screamed at an authority figure, everyone still had strong faith that I would still go on to achieve greatness. I grew tremendously, sprouting hair and teeth, gaining inches and pounds. I was really in touch with my needs, both emotionally and physically, in a way that I don’t think I could ever be again. What I did during that time made me who I am today, but it all happened so effortlessly, so naturally. Considering I had no previous experience in anything, such productivity is really pretty impressive. I don’t think I have accomplished as much since.
