It has been almost two years since I read Tolstoy’s "Anna Karenina." However, there is one quote I have thought about nearly every day these past 24 months:
“I remember and know that blue mist, like the mist on the Swiss Mountains… that mist which envelopes everything at that blissful time when childhood is just, just coming to an end and its immense, blissful circle turns into an ever narrowing path, and you enter the defile gladly yet with dread, though it seems bright and beautiful.”
That image of creeping mist and crowding possibilities just captures so perfectly the experience of late adolescence and early adulthood. Maybe this isn’t true for everyone, but for me, there is a lot of anxiety illuminated by a "bright future." Not a complaint, merely an observation. It’s almost like the future presses back a bit, creating an increase in the pressure of the present. And this phenomenon arises from uncertainty and insecurity.
We all worry about the future, but we don’t all worry productively. For the most part we either try to manufacture certainty to assuage our fears, or we give up – to a certain degree, of course. Some of us do pursue the first option by running ourselves into the ground, composing mile-long resumes and seizing all opportunities to be involved in anything and everything, erroneously trying to create some semblance of security. Sometimes we look at the future and, paralyzed, cannot make a choice. We give up ambition out of fear of failure and thus withdraw, contenting ourselves by living in a state of future-blind carpe diem. Still other times we do make a decision, but recognizing our unhappiness with it, find ourselves unable to really get behind it and thus work towards those goals. The possibilities go on but they are all linked in their lack of sustainability because they are all driven by misconceptions of the future and the self.
Anxiety about the future is pervasive because it is natural. At this juncture of, say, 16 to 22, we’re asked to make big decisions, to choose vectors for our lives and limit our options. And there is uncertainty in that; there is risk. However, that doesn’t give us license to get caught up in absolutes. Life is nuanced; there are middle grounds between pursuing something and everything and nothing. There is room to explore yourself and still "build a future." It’s okay to express intentions, even if they might fail or change. It’s okay to relax; it’s okay to apply yourself. All of those options can coexist, to an infinite number of degrees, within a single individual.
That is really what being at this point in life is all about – figuring out how to understand nuance and find that balance, articulating what you believe and value, grasping why you make certain choices and desire certain things. In short, it's about that perfect cliché of “discovering yourself.” That’s what can help narrow our paths in the end, more than any decision we make about majors or careers. Finding that distinction of what type of person you are and making the tough decisions is more meaningful than a job could ever be. And I think that’s what’s scariest: dispelling the mist around our selfhood – discovering who we are, and thus discovering the implications of our multi-faceted lives.
