It may just be what we call "human" or "normal" and to generalize might diminish the power of the feeling, but there is something about at least the first five years of our twenties that seems to be a pretty important universal lesson.
I'm sure falling in love, having children, and growing old in a career/relationship/community come with their own lessons, but the past five years have taught me what I can only imagine and hope will be the base for a fruitful and satisfied life.
As a teenager I didn't know failure, at least not in any real sense. Sure, I was pushed out of a lacrosse program or realized I wasn't quite as good at the flute as my peers, but I was still selected for state concerts and runner-up to state swimming titles. I ran for Student Council and was elected, started a group in my school and was lauded as a golden child for human rights in the developing world. I even applied to a then-top-5 liberal arts college (I think the entire Class of 2010 is still bitter about that) and was accepted before even having to worry about a second choice school.
In college I felt the nag of being slightly less "smart" when incorporated in the intellectual conversations of such an elite student body, but I passed out of Spanish language requirements, made conference-winning varsity swimming squads, and became director of volunteer programs and Senate committees. I'm sounding like a cover letter here, but let's be honest... I was accepted to the two most selective study abroad programs and while my GPA didn't make me one of the top students at that school, I was involved and rocked it.
The problem for all successful youths hit me like a ton of bricks when, at the end of college, I ended a 4+ year relationship with my best friend, graduated early and lived off-campus paying for all my own meals, and then moved to a city I knew no one. In the process, my other best friend disappeared, I realized I studied something in which I had no interest, and I moved overseas to follow a dream I always had, but that in practice proved a challenge in bureaucracy and the politics of an all-women-English-department in Spain.
The number one lesson I think my 20s have taught me so far is that I am not invincible. I am not the best person for every job. Life is challenging and not always fun. We pursue careers, follow loves around the world to find the love wasn't real, leave things we love behind to follow any combination of life, love, and money, and through it all are slowly learning that we are not flawless. We are not perfect and we will not always be successful.
The challenge is in determining what timeline we have in which to work, what is most important, and what little thing each day is going to make us able to breathe, smile, and move on.
I've gotta say: there have been days here I didn't get a morning sweat (run, bike, lift) in and I apologize to anyone that had to watch my scattered brain figure out the challenges of managing 95 athletes and all their coaches. So the plan is to keep running, take the time for that mental relief, and remember that I am flawed and you know what? So is every single person I'm working with.
I'm sure falling in love, having children, and growing old in a career/relationship/community come with their own lessons, but the past five years have taught me what I can only imagine and hope will be the base for a fruitful and satisfied life.
As a teenager I didn't know failure, at least not in any real sense. Sure, I was pushed out of a lacrosse program or realized I wasn't quite as good at the flute as my peers, but I was still selected for state concerts and runner-up to state swimming titles. I ran for Student Council and was elected, started a group in my school and was lauded as a golden child for human rights in the developing world. I even applied to a then-top-5 liberal arts college (I think the entire Class of 2010 is still bitter about that) and was accepted before even having to worry about a second choice school.
In college I felt the nag of being slightly less "smart" when incorporated in the intellectual conversations of such an elite student body, but I passed out of Spanish language requirements, made conference-winning varsity swimming squads, and became director of volunteer programs and Senate committees. I'm sounding like a cover letter here, but let's be honest... I was accepted to the two most selective study abroad programs and while my GPA didn't make me one of the top students at that school, I was involved and rocked it.
The problem for all successful youths hit me like a ton of bricks when, at the end of college, I ended a 4+ year relationship with my best friend, graduated early and lived off-campus paying for all my own meals, and then moved to a city I knew no one. In the process, my other best friend disappeared, I realized I studied something in which I had no interest, and I moved overseas to follow a dream I always had, but that in practice proved a challenge in bureaucracy and the politics of an all-women-English-department in Spain.
The number one lesson I think my 20s have taught me so far is that I am not invincible. I am not the best person for every job. Life is challenging and not always fun. We pursue careers, follow loves around the world to find the love wasn't real, leave things we love behind to follow any combination of life, love, and money, and through it all are slowly learning that we are not flawless. We are not perfect and we will not always be successful.
The challenge is in determining what timeline we have in which to work, what is most important, and what little thing each day is going to make us able to breathe, smile, and move on.
I've gotta say: there have been days here I didn't get a morning sweat (run, bike, lift) in and I apologize to anyone that had to watch my scattered brain figure out the challenges of managing 95 athletes and all their coaches. So the plan is to keep running, take the time for that mental relief, and remember that I am flawed and you know what? So is every single person I'm working with.
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