“What the fuck am I doing?” is a question that dances the tarantella through my head pretty much every day. You would think that as I creep up on the halfway checkpoint of my twenties, I would have gotten used to this. You would think I now know how to ward off all the anxiety and doubt this question brings. But, if you think that, you certainly thought wrong.
“Driven” is a word people have used to describe me. Except, some days I do not know what I’m driving toward. I’m behind a steering wheel and I don’t know where the hell the car is going. I have some vague idea in my head of the destination, but I still feel like I’m on this tree-lined highway, unable to see much of anything else. And, while I trust myself enough to know I’m building something significant, it’s not always easy to recognize exactly what that something is.
Today, I was picking my coworker’s brain about ideas for Twenties Unscripted’s second birthday in July. Yes, July. But, Twenties Unscripted’s birthday is ten times bigger than my own, as it should be. As we started to discuss options, she asked me a lot of business questions about my brand, questions to which I had very few answers. I’ve made serious investments in this brand, the recent showcase being the biggest one so far. But, there are still times when I’m dropped back to the ground of reality and I think about what all of the work is ultimately supposed to become. Is it just a body of work and memories that I’ll have to reflect on? Is it a brand that can translate into cool shit like a book deal one day? All of the above? None of the above? And, then this icy feeling of dread shoots through me and I wonder if one day, the darts will finally stick. I believe, I hope, I pray that they will.
Today I used the term “treadmilling” to describe your twenties. There are few conversations I have with friends my age, especially when it comes to career, that don’t involve the topic of feeling as though you’re on some sort of non-stop treadmill. You’re running and you’re sweating and your stomach feels like it’s about to come right out of your body and fall on the ground. You’re tired and you’re dizzy and sometimes you can’t see straight. Where is the end and why is it not in sight? When does any of it ever come together and just make sense?
Well, I don’t have those answers. If I did, I wouldn’t be writing this blog post. Hell, if I did, I wouldn’t be writing this blog at all. But, all I can tell myself when my feet feel like jello and I want to jump off the treadmill is keep going. Keep writing. Keep working. Keep juggling. Keep dreaming. Keep producing. Keep creating. Keep driving. Keep wanting. Keep wishing. Keep waiting. Keep fucking going. It means something. It means more than you know, more than you could ever expect, more than you could ever dream in that tiny little head of yours. It means something. It all adds up. The dots connect, the stars align and every other cliche you can think of that means this shit does come together. It does mean something. It is worth your work and worth the wait. But, you have to keep going.