artwork by Jill Steenhuis
Imagine yourself perched in a fig tree. Around you are branches with fruits on the ends representing different paths of your life. In one you’re a world-class painter, another a journalist. You could be anything from a high school teacher to a lead scientist at a biotech company, but going for one fig means you lose the rest. Unsure of which to grab, you stay in the cradle of the tree afraid to make a decision. As you sit starving, the figs start to rot and fall to the ground.
This imagery is taken from The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, and right now I think I might be in that fig tree. Growing up I always got the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I figured I was supposed to say “Firefighter” or “President”, but I could never pick. In high school, the expected response shifted to professions like “Doctor” or “Lawyer” but I had no answer just the same. The issue didn’t stem from a lack of interest but an overwhelming feeling of stress. How could I make a decision impacting the rest of my life? I had limited knowledge and experience, and I was scared of choosing. If I was wrong, I could end up unhappy and regretful – hell I could even have a midlife crisis and buy a motorcycle. With the stakes so high, it felt easier to not choose at all.
My adaptation to the stress of decision-making trickled down to every aspect of my life. I didn’t choose what clothes I owned, instead wearing whatever my mom had gotten me over the years. I didn’t decorate my room, I slept in the same twin sized bed in high school that I had since I was 7. I never made decisions on who to be friends with or what identity to carve out for myself, and it led to an easygoing but unfulfilling adolescence.
It has taken me a long time to learn that not making a decision is still a decision, which sucks, but over the last two years I’ve started to change. Joining standup in college, staying in Boston after graduating, and even recently decorating my room. I’m proud of the progress I’ve made – but at the same time… small potatoes. When it comes to the rest of my life I’m clueless.
I understand that it’s a symptom of my age. Maya Angelou described youth as a “faceless horror of wavering purpose”, although I’d argue that horror does have a face and it’s called LinkedIn. And look, maybe this feeling will go away and obsessing over the future won’t help, but I want a solution.
The French philosopher René Descartes said if you ever got lost in a vast forest, the best way out is to pick a direction to walk and stick to it. Your best guess may not be the shortest route, but wandering from one direction to the next will get you nowhere. With my life, I think it’s time I take my best guess. I’ll have no clue whether I’m making the right call, but that’ll have to be O.K. Plus, wherever my life branches out to, I’m sure the fig at the end will taste as good as all the others.
