Quarter Life Cry-Sis
Britney encouraged me to join medium, so here I am. Since yesterday was my birthday, I figured I’d share my thoughts.
Today I close Chapter 25.
I feel hopeful. After battling snares of uncertainty mid-way through year twenty-five, restored hope is more than I could have petitioned God for. I never knew quarter-life crises were a thing until it fell in my lap. Actually, that’s too minimizing. Wrestling with my placement in life and attempting to make good choices that will lay a strong foundation for myself nearly consumed me. I wasn’t prepared for the anxiety, lack of direction, impatience, or perceived sense of lack. I rose one morning and nothing was good enough. I wasn’t good enough, my achievements weren’t good enough, my work wasn’t enough. If you can have it, I didn’t have enough of it. I could have summed up the previous sentence by saying, “I felt greedy, entitled, and ungrateful.” But that stings and I’d rather reserve that level of candor for my thoughts.
If you’ve seen me take trips from my car to my apartment, you know I’m determined to make it all happen in one trip. Yesterday I spent my last day of twenty-fine enjoying wine, food, and laughs on the river with close friends. It was perfect.
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Rewind.
I collected everything I’d need for the picnic in the corner of my living room. Cups? Check. Wine? Check. Wine Opener? Check. Blankets? Check. Condiments? Check. After everything was gathered, I evaluated my load, thought about the distance to my car, and decided I could make it. Halfway through the breezeway, I was in agony. These. Bags. Were. So. Freaking. Heavy. They were so heavy, my head began to sting! I don’t even know what that means. I struggled optimistically knowing that my car was just steps away. After I made it to the parking lot, I realized I didn’t get my favorite spot the previous day, and my car was much further than I thought. Doubt arrived. I kept pushing and stopped breathing. My lessons from yoga tapped me on the shoulder and reminded me that I couldn’t finish without breath. I paused, centered my breath, and made it to the car.
I’m learning this entire journey requires endurance. I’m not a yogi by any means, but I’ve inconsistently practiced long enough to know that thought and breath matter. When I find myself in difficult positions, I’m laser focused on how challenging the pose is, how much it hurts, and my desire to perform overshadows my ability to do what comes naturally, breathe. During my first heated vinyasa class, I walked into the room filled with self doubt. I sat on my mat with crossed legs, closed my eyes, inhaled the humid air, and knew that I was in way over my head. I assessed the poses before I attempted them, and if I decided I couldn’t execute it, I didn’t try. I told myself I couldn’t and I didn’t. After I gained control of my thoughts and breath, I was warmly greeted by optimism. When my body couldn’t complete the task, I felt comfort in knowing that I could be patient with myself until I could.
Then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature. -Genesis 2:7
While I wish I could say my quarter-life crisis has nestled itself comfortably in my rear view mirror, it hasn’t. Not fully, at least. However, I can proudly say that I’ve learned to saturate it with God’s word and breathe through the situation. I started thinking positively about my life and watched great manifestations reveal themselves. I surrendered my thoughts and will to Christ knowing that He could keep me at perfect peace. So I’m hopeful. Hopeful for year 26 and the abundance it will bring.
To anyone who can relate, surrender your thoughts to God. Rest confidently knowing that He is aware of your burdens, He cares about your burdens, and He will love you through them. Picture yourself as a victor, daily. And breathe. Don’t forget to breathe.
