Adulting: Life In Transition

I write this on a Sunday in January of the new year.

I turned 26 this past year, and this year will be my 27th.

I work part-time as a strategic business consultant with my 35-year-old family business.

I love to write, brainstorm, envision. Share ideas and create things and experiences.

I have many ideas, and I’ve had my fair share of unfinished projects (something I am working on improving).

I have self-published one book and plan to write more in the future, although I sometimes hit creative blocks.

I am blessed to get to travel a lot, yet it still feels like I fall short of the life I see from Instagram influencers.

I’ve met many people, each leaving a unique mark on my life.

Sadly, I can only keep up with so many, and life and the world between us create a distance that challenges the nature of relationships.

There are some whom I will hear from or get to see once a year others monthly, and some others- I may never hear from or spend time with again, but I can find grace in knowing we served a chapter in each other’s lives, so for that I am grateful.

I can’t help but notice that some childhood dreams just probably aren’t going to happen, and it’s a tough pill to swallow.

Part of me wants to go out with friends on the weekend, and another part wants to curl up and watch a movie at the end of a long week.

Part of me wants to go fishing, and another part of me wants to sit with a coffee and write about life experiences.

I spend a lot of my time reading. Writing. Practicing yoga. Brainstorming.

I am trending towards a consistent gym schedule, and with the right nutrition and supplements, I can notice and feel more muscle mass on my body—which is nice.

I’m coming to terms with my less-than-optimal spending habits, and working on taming the wildfire that is my financial “burn rate.”

I seem to be increasingly drawn to my family dog. I frequently find myself talking to him, mimicking his behavior, and taking him on long walks around the neighborhood. His name is Nemo, but he doesn’t swim. He is a primal breed of dog, and because of that, he is very intriguing to hang out with and observe.

I enjoy solitude but would love a partner to grow and do life with.

Finding her is easier said than done, but I am trying to put myself out there after multiple years of being single and traveling the world…

Lately, It feels like I am up against a lot of my limiting beliefs, routine behaviors, and neuroses recently, and it is uncomfortable.

I feel I am forced to come to terms with and accept that my eyesight isn’t 20/20 as it was when I was a kid, and that somehow saddens me… So I am toiling with these thoughts of aging that I don’t want to fully believe, even though I know eyesight is more of a genetic thing anyway.

As a kid and young man who had a burning curiosity to explore what life has to offer, trying to live in a free and untamed way… I find myself a bit disenchanted again, clouded by the inevitable forces of adulting.

I guess there is a possibility I remember my childhood wrong. Maybe there was more pain, confusion, and suffering than I led myself to believe. Maybe the story isn’t as fairytale as I think it is.

You see, I have had quite a storied and sought-after life, I would say, but still, I wait here today, feeling on the cusp of either something great—a continued unfolding of the hero’s journey… or an end to what was a great and ambitious dream.

I just don’t know where it will go.

I hope it will take me to new places and fill me with inspiration, awe, and wonder—just as I felt as a child.

Or it won’t, and I will face the cold hard truth of accepting life and the forces that grind dreams to dust.

As I toss and turn to toil with these thoughts and feelings, I can’t help but still believe I am at the cusp of something great. But it won’t just happen. I will have to fight for it and continue on if I wish to experience what waits for me. Can I make it through the madness, confusion, and life—sucking forces of the modern world?

Oh, little Jack, it wasn’t very long ago. You roamed the woods in your backyard, catching frogs, lizards, skinks, fish, and bugs. You brought your friends home from school to build zoos, roam creeks, and swim in ponds. 

It wasn’t very long ago. You planted trees in the soil. Dreamed of being a wildlife manager. Dreamed of being a wildlife biologist. Dreamed of being the next Steve Irwin. 

But look at you now. You hardly spend much time outdoors anymore. You have given up on that part of yourself. You have strayed from the track.

The comfort and security of the family business. A known and stable income. 

Although you enjoy it, and there is much to challenge you and exciting things to be a part of- Is it fully you? Where has that obsession with animals and the natural world gone? Has it dwindled to a mere smolder?

Life moves so fast. People come and go. Hopes and dreams compose. 

Weeks and years fall off the calendar. 

But remember, you’re in your 20s, building a foundation for your life. You’re still young—there is still much to look forward to—yet you are already reflecting as if your time is nearing the end.

You’re frustrated and maybe a little lost. You don’t know which way to go.

You’re torn by your fear of fully committing to a career and a relationship with a woman who might not be perfect. And all the while, you’re so hard on yourself, burdened by the grip of perfectionism and beating yourself up for not excelling at everything.

You reflect on the freedoms and minimal responsibility you had in your childhood and growing up. 

You know life will never be that way again.

You see closed signs on your favorite childhood restaurants. 

People tell you they are leaving for new places.

Wait- I thought we were just getting started?

I thought that we had so much ahead together.

What happened to the aspiring conversations? The “I can’t wait until we <blank> together,” “Can you imagine what it would be like?” “I can’t wait until the day we <blank>.”

I guess that is the truth of life- it keeps going, whether you like how it is marching on or not.

I feel like I am coming to learn adulting is accepting the truths of what is.

Working through my attachments to what was and what I might have thought was permanent- Nothing is permanent. 

So, how can we learn to enjoy what is while it lasts? 

How can we be present with our loved ones before they move on?

How can we fully “show up” in our careers, enjoying the privilege it is to work and share time with colleagues and customers?

How can we savor every bite of our favorite meal, embrace the warmth of our bed, and soak in the smell of a morning cup of coffee?

Learn to love the vehicle we drive a little deeper. Learn to love our homes a little deeper.

While we’re still here together. While all of it, is in front of us now.

Because it’s inevitable you’re going to wake up one day, and they have moved on, and you, too, have moved on.

Chapters of life will close. You will live in another house somewhere. You find your favorite restaurant to be closed. The cafe you like no longer serves your favorite coffee. The business you worked for or owned has had its run. That old tree you loved to sit by in the park has fallen down…

I think gratitude could be the answer, yet it seems like a hard feeling to grasp now.

Nothing is promised… yet I am challenged by the fact that I wish that things were different some days.

I am ahead of some and behind others.

But the truth is, within, I am just trying to make sense of it all.

Trying to keep something alive in myself- let’s call it the flame of the spirit- despite living in a world that wishes to see it extinguished.

I don’t want to sell out. I want to stay in the fight. 

I may be a little lost right now, but I know I can find my way back onto the track of my life.

I’m reminded of a friend’s shirt that says, “The good ole’ days are yet to come,” and in this statement, I find hope for the future… Maybe the good ole days aren’t just behind us but waiting to unfold—and that’s worth believing.