10 minutes into a 6-hour hike, my friend started to feel ill.
Apparently, the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she ate before leaving our Airbnb an hour ago did her in.
“I’m good!” she not so convincingly attempts to reassure my buddy and me.
She tells us to keep going. Not willing to press the matter just yet, we continue on.
A few minutes later, she stops again. This time she’s seriously considering if she needs to force herself to empty the contents of her stomach across the floor of Mount Mitchell.
After a failed attempt, I take matters into my own hands. My thinking is, get it over with now, so the rest of the hike is easy-peasy.
She walks back towards me in an attempt to resume hiking once again (lol). No idea what compels me to do so, but I punch her in the stomach (not too hard, I swear). She crumples.
Arguably not the best move on my part — can you imagine smelling of vomit for 6 hours? — but, thankfully (sorta), it didn’t happen. Too bad nausea doesn’t work like hiccups — you can’t scare them out.
Eventually, her sickness subsided, and she made her way in and around the switchbacks.
To me, this is what adulting feels like: An unexpected wave of nausea at an inconvenient time; A random punch(or disappointment) in the gut from someone you love(or just life in general) that brings you to your knees; Mustering through the pain because you don’t want to miss out (FOMO); Self-loathing because your body is betraying you for an unknown reason; Moments of gratitude for being alive in a beautiful place with wonderful people.
I wish there was a manual (maybe I’ll build one at some point) on how-to adult.
There’s SO much no one tells you about growing up.
To be fair, I don’t think a 300-page or even a 600-page book would encompass everything one needs to know about adulting. Adulting is mainly just living and learning (hopefully) from those experiences.
If I did have any advice to offer based on what I’ve learned in the last few years, this is what I’d say:
1.Close your tabs
For a while, I was terrified (checking my under my bed for monsters level) of committing to a career path. I wanted to keep my options open. I didn’t want to pigeonhole myself into something and get a few years in and hate my life every waking moment.
But I realized at some point it was actually doing me more harm than good to “keep my options open.” Picking a path isn’t an end-all-be-all choice. It’s not what you have to do forever. It’s simply a starting point. It’s a place for you to grow your connections, build foundational skills, and figure out more about where you fit in the grand scheme of the working world. Go for depth rather than breadth.
Here’s the thing, you can always get out. You can always reroute.
You can’t go back and do more.
2.Stay curious
I think years of traditional education stifles kids’ natural ability to be creative. To express themselves. To look for answers. To explore. My challenge for you is to toss that aside and take back control. The only way to figure out what you want in this life — both work and personal (because they are one) — is to pay attention to what excites you and to add more of it into your life.
Ask a bajillion questions. Talk to strangers (not in a creepy way). Bring your childhood dreams to life. Go down rabbit holes. Make time for hobbies. Pay attention to problems you encounter. Read books. Watch videos. Observe people. Create content. Document your life and learnings.
3.Stop waiting around
I’ve wasted so much life waiting for the right moment to ask someone out, to start writing a book, to apply for a job, to join a gym…the list is endless. And one thing that remains consistent across the board in these scenarios is that nothing happens during that dead time. All I do is continue to sit around waiting. Life happens when you keep the ball rolling — build momentum.
How many times have you heard someone say you’ll never regret doing something, but you’ll always regret not doing something? Probably too many times to count. But they have a point. Just do it (@ nike). Chase your dreams. Go after what you want. Write that book. Travel the world. Ask that person out. Start taking online classes.
The pros: fewer “what if” scenarios, lower anxiety levels (HUGE), more stories
The cons: your desired outcome may not be achieved (but that could happen regardless of if you act now or in two years)
4.Stop death-gripping everything
Not much to say here other than there’s nothing in life we can control (coming from someone who likes control, this means a lot).
With that being said, let life breathe a bit. Forgive people. Drop assumptions or preconceived notions you have about things. Move on.
When you let go, you free yourself. You open yourself up to the possibility for better — more love and less pain.
5.It will all actually be okay, seriously.
Life is full of peaks and valleys.
Sometimes you’re riding high, and at others, you feel like literal trash.
My personal biggest takeaway from the last year, in particular, is to sit in the suck. Acknowledge it. Just don’t let it hang around too long. When you know you’re down in the count, you’ve got to start swinging. The goal isn’t to hit a home run. The goal is to make contact. To get on base.
You won’t magically feel better again in an hour or in a day. You can, however, have moments of brightness where you’re reminded of how nice the sun feels on your skin and how the first bite of a Villani’s chocolate cake melts on your tongue.
When the lights dim again, keep showing up. Move towards what makes you feel good. Surround yourself with the people and environments that bring out the best in you.
Time will go by, and you’ll notice how much lighter you feel, how you haven’t thought of them in weeks, and how you’re back doing what you used to do.
You don’t have to forget the suck — keep the stories of where you’ve been and who’s shaped you forever close to your heart — but you must get on living.
—JTM