On Growing Old and Fearing Life and Death

So, it's my birthday. Yep. 26 years old. I am now arguably in my "late" twenties. That's scary. Do you know what I thought of 26 year olds when I was a teenager? I thought they were old people. Do you know what I thought of 26 year olds when I was in college? I thought they were out of touch and stupid. Do you know what I think of 26 year olds now? Basically all the same stuff.

Now that I'm actually writing this post I'm having a lot more trouble articulating all this then I thought I would. Probably because I'm an old man now and can't remember my thoughts.

Okay, lists are easy. Let's make a list. I'm afraid of:
1. Being out of touch socially/being less cool than I already was.
2. Not having achieved enough in 26 years and being a failure and a loser.
3. My body and mind becoming decrepit and useless.
4. Losing the creativity, passion, confidence, and hopefulness of my youth.
5. Becoming like the embittered and cynical adults I see around me.
6. DEATH.

 So, that's a lot. Let's go in order and break this down piece by existentially horrifying piece.

1. Being out of touch socially/being less cool than I already was.

So, I'm a Youth Pastor. That's my job. I spend my time hanging out with people who are between 8 and 20 years younger than me. My life is in constant stark contrast to youth. Like, sometimes I feel young and then I look at some 17 year old who is so much more in touch with culture and technology. I used to be that guy. Now I don't even know how an Ipad works.

I don't want to become irrelevant. I don't need to change the world. I don't need to be famous. I just need to not be a walking, talking waste of time and space.

There's really no way around this one. As people become old they get out of touch. Maybe if I spent more time with people my own age I wouldn't feel it quite as strongly. But as of now, I feel it. A lot.

2. Not having achieved enough in 26 years and being a failure and a loser.

 I've been out of college and married for almost 4 years now. I had degrees in two fields, neither of which I work in. I've been in my job for 3 years. Have I done enough?

In my 26 years I've managed to scrape out a college degree and land a job as a more or less expendable youth pastor. The one achievement I think has been perfect is my marriage. But other than my marriage has the past 26 years led to anything? Am I going anywhere? I often think not. I don't see myself being a youth pastor in Portland, Maine for the next 20 years. But I don't see any other prospects either. I've hit 26 and I feel like I'm just kind of a dead-end person. I don't want to be a failure. I don't want to be a loser. I want to be worth something.

3. My body and mind becoming decrepit and useless.

 I've always had trouble with memory. My dad does too, so I think it might be genetic. My poor memory is a big part of why I cherish autobiographical writing so much. There are massive portions of my life that I just don't remember clearly. Luckily I wrote them down. But here's the thing, if my memory is this bad at 26 how much worse will it be in 10 years? Or 20? Will I remember anything? Will I be coherent as a human?

I've been lucky to have a more or less healthy body, at least as far as I know. But have you heard of this thing called cancer? Family history is cool. It's not just cancer, that's just the worst case scenario. 2 people at my church are having knee replacement surgeries. As people age their bodies fail them. I don't want my body to fail me. I don't want to become weak and useless.

4. Losing the creativity, passion, confidence, and hopefulness of my youth.

I think this one is one of the most terrifying to me because on some level I know it's already happened. I don't write anymore. I mean, I guess I'm writing now, but who knows how long that will last. When I was younger I used to crave opportunities to be creative. I would actively seek out times to write. I would shut myself in my room for hours crafting stories, both fiction and otherwise, and I would be filled with the thrill of creativity. Now I only write if I force myself into it. Now only write out of obligation. What if I get so old I lose even the obligation?

In college one of my best friends and I would go around with petitions and each joined the Student Government Association because we were passionate and hopeful and we wanted to affect change. I used to be passionate and hopeful. I used to believe I could change the world. Now I feel like I've seen too much. My wife works fighting human trafficking and both her and I are very aware of issues of social injustice. My wife looks at these things and has the passion and hope to fight. I see these things and I sigh and retreat a little bit deeper into myself.

I used to be confident. I used to believe I could do anything. I used to not let existential crises get me down. I used to believe my confidence was bigger than anything this world could throw at me, be it stress at work, cutting personal failures, or even outright insults to my own competence. I was wrong. I feel like my confidence shrinks each passing year.

5. Becoming like the embittered and cynical adults I see around me.

Adults suck. Yeah, I know that at 26 I'm also an adult. I suck too, alright? Despite being an old man now I'm still lumping people who feel older than me into the category of "adult." So many adults I see me around me are just embittered husks of their former shells. Pastors more focused on budgets than ministry, social activists who don't believe in change, people fighting to keep the status quo for fear of anything else, people who hate their spouses and actively speak badly about them, parents so burnt out from raising their kids that they're barely even doing that, etc.

I want to be more than that. I try to view these people as cautionary tales. I get that there's a lot to be bitter about. Seriously, half my blog posts are just whiny existential crises. But that's no reason to just be bitter about life as a whole. As I type this there's a twinge in my chest as I recognize how much of that cynicism I cling to myself. I don't want to be a grown up of that's what it means.

6. DEATH.

 So, this one is kind of a big deal. I don't have a ton to say about it, really. If I die tomorrow my wife will be alone. Who will feed my cat? Will I be remembered as someone who lived well? Will I be largely missed, or will only my wife and family care that I'm gone? Will my life have been worth anything? I try really hard not to think about this one, but, you know, I'm going to die someday. We all do. There's nothing I can do about that, and that's pretty dang scary.

Conclusion?

Geeze, that was some pretty heavy stuff. Are you okay? If that depressed you pretty severely go seek help. Eh, guess you're okay. That's really all I've got for today. I don't know what kind of psycho I am that every birthday ends up feeling like some kind of annual existential crisis. Hope you enjoyed the post at least a little. I'll be back again tomorrow, hopefully writing about Gamechurch. Come check it out.