So long Twentysomethings

So. I have left my 20s. I am no longer a "twentysomething," that newly-ish coined phrase meant to capture in one word a wide swath of my generation, a group of people, who, on the whole, seem to be taking longer to grow up as we experiment with the myriad of choices out there in the big, wide, wonderful, economically imperiled world.

We have big dreams because we've been told since infancy that we matter, that our self-image is a prime consideration, and that we deserve to be happy because, well, we're worth it. We tend to have big hearts and want our work to make a difference in the world. And a lot of us are smacking pretty hard against reality when we suddenly realize the world does not, in fact, revolve around us. (See Jean Twenge's book, "Generation Me," for more on this topic. It is an EXCELLENT read.)

I've always been a little uneasy with the term "twentysomething." I never liked being lumped in with a bunch of egocentric whiners. But at the same time, I really could see hints of that twentysomething aura in myself. And that bothered me.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I LOVED my twenties. I saw a lot of the world, and anyone who has known me for more than two minutes knows that travel thrills me. I come alive when traveling. I am the most me when traveling. I enjoyed all...oh, about 20...jobs I had. It may not have been that many, but there were a lot. I liked college. I dated one really excellent man in my 20s, and am so, so, so glad I did not embrace the promiscuity of my generation. As I enter my 30s, I am still ridiculously old-fashioned in that realm. I am guarding my heart (or doing my best, at least. The heart is unruly at times.) until I meet a man who will treat it with as much care as I do. Rabbit trail...

Anyway, yeah, I liked my 20s. But I've been volunteering at the senior center these past few months, and I find myself deeply admiring older generations' stability. I find myself thinking all these seniors DESERVE to make art, play pool, shout bingo, read books, eat good, cheap food, and go on excursions to Applebees (the nearest one is 2 hours away) because they did their time. They got married and stuck with it. They worked hard at just a few jobs until retiring on a solid financial foundation. And now, they can delight in hours of conversation over coffee at the senior center.

Will my generation be like that? Or will we still be searching for fulfillment at 80? What if we're just moving too fast to see that fulfillment doesn't come in that next thing or person or activity down the road if we could just get there fast enough?

We must learn to invest our time, money, effort, attitudes and choices into others. We must fight bitterness and that mad rat race of keeping up with the Joneses. We must forgive the hurts that will fester and rot us to our core if we don't. And we must commit. At least to the things that matter.

Now, I am a wanderer at heart. And I think God can use wanderers, so I'm not proposing we all commit to one job for the next 40 years. But we do need to commit to people. We need to put in the work of being a good friend, of keeping our good friends. We need to commit to serving the people in our church and loving, somehow, someway, the people outside our church walls that may very well not return our love at all. We MUST commit to our marriages and our kids. That, in itself, would radically turn this world around.

I realize I'm beginning to wander in this post. I suppose I'm just saying I was a little surprised by how much introspection turning 30 brought to me. I am grateful for my twentysomething era. So grateful. I love my life. But I'm also ready to move forward a little more steadily. I want to be committed with all my heart, soul, mind and strength to my Lord. And I want to be a steadfast and loyal friend to all those folks out there who may be frantically seeking the next big thing even though they really just want to sit down and enjoy a nice, leisurely chat over a cup of coffee...or four.

So. So long twentysomethings. It's been fun. But I'm really quite happy to be 30 now. Bring on those crow's feet and laugh lines. The more the merrier.