Just a few days ago, I turned 21. Yes, I made it. Leaped over the last barrier excluding me from the rest of adult society in the United States. This is usually the point at which a normal college student would create a drinks list, grab a permanent marker, and be marched into a series of bars, as what little consciousness remaining after a hard pre-game slips away, to be fed 21 shots at all costs.
Thankfully, having spent the last semester in Sweden and getting used to social drinking, working in a bar, and otherwise spending copious amounts of time around alcohol, I was not nearly as thrilled with this 21 shots prospect as society dictated I ought to be. So, instead of an all-out, blackout, getting-kicked-out, throw-up-then-curl-up, and hug-the-toilet kind of night, 8 of us spent the night together for a lovely dinner at Colors, then did a little tour around downtown.
We trekked over to Holly's NYU dormitory so she could grab the remainder of some decent and some not-so-decent alcohol, then headed over to Gold Street to hang out on the roof of Jon's building. The view from up there was absolutely beautiful, not to mention the roof itself which was incredibly lovely. With Jon staying behind, we headed off to buy a few 6-packs, said a temporary farewell to Holly, and wandered over to South Street Seaport.
Best way to ring in midnight of your birthday? Running around looking for the toilet, finding it, then running back for hugs, kisses, and lots of love.
Kevin and Sarah then peel off from the group, leaving Hudson, Tyler, Raph, and myself to go over to Saint Mark's Place and meet up with Holly again. A cone of fries, a few drinks and attempted bar entry (I say attempted because poor Raph was still 20 and the bouncer wouldn't let him slide) later, we end up at a Japanese noodle house.
The night winds down and a few blocks later, we part ways and thus ends the peaceful and extremely satisfying first hours of my 21st year.
Now, what is the reason for the title of this post?
I was thinking about how as we get older, it's important to keep in mind that the constant use of a skill, the "rolling stone," keeps it from growing moss...sticking, and in the sense of a skill, stagnating.
But you know, life is like that too. You need to keep going no matter what small pebbles are chipped off of you, no matter what puddles of mud try to slow you down. Life is like that- an endless, sloped plane with any number of difficulties tossed in the path of your rolling. Some obstacles are so difficult to get over, but I've realized that sometimes the hardest aren't always external.
We build a lot of our own obstacles and I think one of those is age. At my age, I could still be considered a growing individual. I don't feel that I'm at my intellectual prime yet because I know so little about the world and the professional arena. But what happens when you have gone past your prime and each year that rolls by you is one you want to hold on to?
I got a taste of this feeling recently. It's not that I don't want to be 21, but I just feel that it's unnecessary to be 21 at all. What benefit does this numerical age offer me? Age feels like a burden; as if I was a rolling stone that had been turned into a rolling block. Each flat side was the span of a year and the effort of turning over that corner onto the next flat side was the equivalent effort needed to keep dragging oneself forward through the rigors of everyday life with the knowledge that you were 365 days older than when you last counted.
The very thought of this has depressed me all over again.
Recently I have been feeling more like a block than a round boulder, but I suspect this might be caused by a lack of employment offering monetary rewards, the swiftly-arriving end of my college career, and the sharp realization of what expectations I've met, yet to live up to, and have already failed.
With the advent of the school year, however, I am confident that the familiar rhythms of academia can allay my fears, build up my store of knowledge and self-assurance, and give me the what it takes to turn my angular form and irregular rolling into something smoother and rounder that can speed forward with a greater sense of purpose.
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