Two millennia ago, Marcus Aurelius wrote, “It is not death that a man should fear. He should fear never beginning to live.”
We all experience the fear of not reaching our full potential — at least I do.
The quarter-life crisis. The existential breakdown. The panic attack about where we will end up in the future. All of these are uniquely human experiences, especially common in an age when time seems both to move at a rapid pace and slow to a standstill all at once.
To me, there is no greater fear than thinking about the future. It’s not the future of the Earth that worries me — just my own. Will I ever break the familiar chains of Louisiana and settle as a journalist in a city like New York, Los Angeles or Chicago?
The future paralyzes me when I think too intently about my role in it. Will I be able to succeed in a world so saturated with others like me, so concerned with making a difference? What will I do to set myself apart from the crowd? What legacy will I leave behind?
These are the things that keep me up at night.
As a sophomore entering my fifth semester this fall with nary an internship secured, I hardly feel prepared for the world waiting for me beyond the University’s walls.
I wonder if I am behind my peers in our shared journey bounding toward the future. I worry that I will just be another nameless cog in a machine that keeps society moving forward. I don’t want to be a cog in some global machine: I want to make a difference.
Are we living our true callings or are we just skating by as the world volleys endless obstacles at us? Have we missed the proverbial boat that will bring us away from indecisiveness and into clarity?
These questions, as hard to face as they may be, are natural. We all strive to find something that proves that our lives have meaning beyond just subsistence. I can’t think of a single soul that would be content with living a life without purpose.
The journey to find that purpose, though full of anxieties, is a quest we all must embark on.
The journeys each of us find ourselves on are all unique. The way my future unfolds will be completely different than that of my neighbor or friend, so if we are to alleviate this existential dread, we need to stop comparing ourselves to others — no matter how tantalizing it may seem.
If we compare our own experiences to those of our peers, especially in a setting so rife with change as college, we will never progress past these harmful notions of which path is “right” for us. We are not other people and they are not us.
Comparison is almost certainly what causes this existential dread. We must be concerned with our own agendas in such a vast world and understand that our own journeys will lead us all to very different places, each impactful in their own ways.
Even then, our impact on this world is not entirely about whether we succeed in a career we choose or are thrust into. We each have an effect on everyone who enters our lives.
Sometimes it’s terrifying to think about whether the people we know right now will be by our side in the future.
But we cannot exhibit control over everything in our journeys, and the chronophobia — or fear of the future — some feel is irrational by nature. We must understand that the future may not go as planned.
What you thought was your destiny in life may turn out to be a necessary diversion on your path to where you truly belong. The friends and family we make on our journey help reassure us that everything is alright.
To quote Bob Dylan, “The times, they are a’changin.”
We have to realize that no matter what life throws at us, we will persevere. No matter how eventless the future may look, no matter how much of a failure you may feel like in the moment, there is light.
You will fulfill your own destiny because it is just that: your own. Do not let fears of the unknown or unnecessary comparisons to others drag you down from realizing your potential.
Domenic Purdy is a 19-year-old journalism sophomore from Prairieville.