The LA Times published an article the other day about how twentysomethings have put life on "pause," so that they can "figure themselves out" before life really starts to matter.
The article, written by the psychologist Meg Jay, featured "Katherine," a twentysomething client who was anxious about her future and seemed to "fill her mind with day-to-day drama" to distract herself.
I know that there are a lot of people out there who blame the recession, and I will go ahead and admit that the economic downturn probably hasn't helped situations. But we've also become spineless.
We're willing to sit up and stretch our backbones as long as there's an independent movie deal or a third-world cause at the other end of the tunnel. But when it comes to the simple act of finding a job, we're helpless. We might as well continue to sit in our parents' basement and play Wii Super Mario Bros.
We've become immune to actual work. I don't necessarily mean back-breaking, heavy-duty physical labor that our grandfathers, and many of our fathers, made a career of. Though, for some, that may be the case (and more power to them).
Work can take any form, as long as it is productive.
Like Katherine, many of us twentysomethings feel like our time has not yet come. If we're not a Mark Zuckerburg of the world, what chance do we have of accomplishing anything?
I'm not sure about other twentysomethings, but I get bored in a passive lifestyle. I'd rather live actively, make small advances each day/week/month, and hope that one day my efforts pan out how I'd like them.
It's okay to have big dreams, but we can't wait for those big dreams to happen until we're 30.
Adolescence stops at 19. That's nine-TEEN, the last TEEN-age year. 20 does not count.
They say that the characteristics we develop in our twenties stay with us for the rest of our lives. I'd rather be ambitious, hard-working and ahead-of-my-time. Because what I do in my twenties dictates, in part, what I will do in my thirties, and my forties, and my fifties.
It matters now.