existential dread is rated E for everyone
an essay on how existentialism can be experienced at any age & what it means to live
From January to June, I was friends with people my own age, and from July to November my friends were double that number. Words exchanged with all these ages left me thinking about how similar we all are, regardless of it. Middle aged women have the same concerns of aging as girls in their early twenties, and middle aged men have the same concerns of being man enough as boys in their early twenties. Even with all this common ground, there was one shared concern that stuck with me: the ongoing existential dread of what’s the meaning of my life. It’s not the most original question, and is a jarring contrast to being worried about fine lines and manhood, but it will always be the most profound. I argue the answer to existential dread lies in the questioning of it itself: we exist because we are curious and inquisitiveness gives us purpose.
Even though this answer might not be the most original, with this concern of what’s the purpose of living, it’s the basis of who we are as people. Our inquisitive nature we choose to nurture, or neglect, as we get older, allows us to unlock different parts of ourselves. Being inquisitive forces us to unearth this and ask what we unconsciously might want from this life. Outside a Chili’s on a windy Tuesday night, a friend of mine and I had a late night conversation about our career goals post-grad. There was this underlying uncertainty in future plans we said aloud, but we said it with so much conviction you’d admonish yourself for thinking you heard our doubt –yet our stomachs were full from it, probably why we couldn’t finish our appetizers. As the wind picked up in its unusually cool breeze for a September night, our fears left our lips and brushed our ears as we tried therapy speaking through our problems. We sat there, trying to connect the dots but we were left with too many answers that needed additional questioning. So we just let ourselves be two girls sitting on cement benches, hoping our fears would leave us for the night sky. This did help us though, so don’t think it was for nothing. It was just the impatience of youth that made us antsy to know what comes next.
When it comes to major age milestones, it takes some time to self reflect and unearth once more what we might unconsciously want –despite outside pressures. Thinking back even to the albums Chromakopia and brat, by respective artists Tyler the Creator and Charli XCX, both projects addressed the question of what being in your early thirties means. In xcx’s song I think about it all the time on her album, she asks herself if she should settle down and start a family the same way some of her friends already have. xcx thinks that in the grand scheme of her life her career is a blip in it all, which trivializes her work and places more value on being a mother. For Tyler the Creator, the fifth track Hey Jane is a discussion about whether or not the woman he’s with, Jane, will keep their baby or not. Tyler shares all these thoughts of being disappointed, excited, and terrified of being so sexually irresponsible of getting this woman pregnant. He’s forced to reconcile with his fears of being a parent, of being a co-parent, the responsibility of raising a child, and the possibility of it all happening. Despite his inner turmoil, he remains supportive of whatever decision Jane makes because it’s her body and her choice. There’s another track on the album titled Tomorrow that kind of parallels xcx’s career trivialization: Tyler sees all of his friends having kids and sharing photos of them with him while all he has to show are his cars and new suits. Does being in your thirties mean starting a family or pursuing the same career and life dreams you’ve always had –or both? These vulnerable questions are asked openly, seeking answers only they can give themselves (and that’s terrifying).
You could argue that some of the choices we make are influenced by the respective cultures we find ourselves in –and that does play a role. From the several conversations I had with several middle aged women, talking about their hobbies, kids, regrets, marriage or marriages, pets, divorce, and travels, it’s easy to see who never thought to think for themselves. A precursor to curiosity is having wonder and that allows us to carry out our inquisitive nature. There is a point where you can choose to live the way you were brought up or make it something your own.
Of course there is the awful side effect that comes with all this questioning: the dreaded existential dread. After we uncover our unconscious wants, our real desires and dreams, we have to figure out how to not squander the time we have left after knowing this –without regretting the time spent trying to understand ourselves. In E.M Cioran’s very famous book, The Trouble With Being Born, which he wrote at the age of sixty two, he discusses the “trivial” nature of being alive and religion. A recurring argument in this novel is that most of life isn’t worth losing thought over. He states over and over, with the kind of boring talent that most philosophers have of re-wording themselves, that contemplating is pointless, and to question your existence, to worry about your problems, to feel anger, and regret your regrets, is all a waste. There is a caveat to Cioran’s thinking since he was a nihilist, so this has a natural pessimistic nature to it, but life holds more meaning if you’re able to give it that through your very human way of questioning everything which gives it all a purpose. You cannot live if everything is a waste because you will end up believing the time you have left is equal to that.
On a weekend afternoon in June, I went to eat lunch with my mom and her friend Hills (a retiree that has lived in Miami her whole life, her roots grown in Coconut Grove). The two have a decent age gap, yet here they were, sitting together in the back of a Greek restaurant waiting for gyro platters. It was humid in there, standing fans circulated the kitchen heat, so we all drank something iced to cool ourselves off (Hills a Coca Cola, my mother a Perrier, and I a Sprite). Our straws swayed in their cans and bottles as we talked about how rapidly the world is changing, upcoming art exhibits, plays, and the rising cost of newspapers. Eventually we made it to the ever fascinating topic of dating. Hills had gone on to talk about a man she was seeing, someone she knew from her grade school days. They reconnected at a high school reunion and had been seeing one another here and there. She found it silly, the way he was acting was too young for someone so old. She knew what she wanted: not a boyfriend nor a husband, but someone to spend whatever time was left. I guess he must’ve thought himself seventy years young with endless time to spare. Hills convinced us it wasn’t anything that serious when we pressed for more –more so my mom, I was more of an audience in this. We then talked about the weather and parking garage prices.
Hills is not a wasteful woman. She sees beauty in everything and can reckon with its value, whether it be art or the art of conversation. In her wisdom lies decades worth of a life well lived, like worn out leather loafers. A whole life walked through her education, marriage, kids, activism, and so many other things, has granted her the gift of knowing who she is –and the additional luxury of spending the rest of her life in accordance with this. In every conversation there is no lingering sound of regret because she gave herself grace to contemplate, thinking her life into purpose, and not squandering any of its intangible value.
All your pondering isn’t minute because no question is stupid if it opens up your world. There is this limitation people, me, you, put on themselves to save face from the “embarrassment” of discovery. No one bullies a toddler in their “why” phase, so why should adults feel the need to disgrace themselves? We exist to ask, it’s in our nature to wonder, to be inquisitive, to have endless curiosity. There is no shame in discovering who you are, no matter how long that might take.
this is so insightful i love it