The Story So Far (or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Existential Dread)
- 32-
When I was a kid I thought of thirty-two as this incredibly significant age. For whatever reason I viewed it as the epitome of reaching adulthood. Of course as a child I thought of everyone older than me as an adult. You know that weird skewed perspective thing, when you recall memories from childhood and even high school kids looked like grown ups. But in my head thirty-two was a mythical age that solidified your status as an adult. An age that once reached meant you were no longer a young man/woman, but a full fledged adult-y adult.
Now as I sit here looking back on thirty-two years of life I can say I had no idea how my perspective on age and life would change over the next couple decades. But in some strange way I wasnât completely wrong either. I had wanted to do this kinda thing when I turned 30 but that was a chaotic time so I never got around to it. So now with two more years behind me, here is a reflection on a simple life and what Iâve learned from it. Letâs start at the beginning...
- Born On The Bayou -
I was born in the early afternoon in Nassau Bay, Texas. I grew up on the same 25 acre ranch my mom was raised on. 30 minutes outside of Houston, 20 minutes from the Gulf of Mexico, and 10 minutes from the Johnson NASA Space Center where my grandparents were instrumental in the Apollo and space shuttle programs. My grandfather was an Oklahoma farm boy that crossed the Mississippi in a covered wagon who ended up putting men on the moon. My grandmother came from New England and was breaking ground in the countryâs fledgling space program when she fell in love with a cowboy rocket scientist and brought my mom into the world. Unfortunately they died when my mom was in college. I wish I could have met them.
My dad grew up in a sleepy suburb outside Portland, Oregon. His mother was an eccentric, loving, and strong-willed woman. It was her grandfather, Aleksander Justice, that Iâm named after. A wolgadeutsche immigrant, he moved to America to start a new life for himself and his family. My grandmother was harshly old-fashioned to say the least, but she loved me and my sister with all her heart and was in our lives more than any other extended family member. Her passing a few years ago wrecked me more than I thought it would.
My fatherâs father was an orphan adopted and raised by his Uncle. As an angsty youth he enlisted in the navy to avoid jail time, served as a frogman in Vietnam, worked as a motorcycle cop for decades to support three kids, helped raise my cousin after my aunt got divorced, and was a volunteer firefighter and loving grandfather and great grandfather when he passed a couple years back. He was and will always be the prime example of the man I judge myself against. I miss him a lot.
- Beans and Cornbread -
My parents met in college and were soon after married and the proud parentâs of a baby boy. My dad was serving in the navy when both I and then my sister, Erin, were born. After his tour of duty my parents moved to the property in Texas that was left to my mom and my uncle. Despite being crazy young, dirt poor, and perhaps in retrospect being wildly unprepared to raise a family, my parents managed to keep us fed and clothed and sheltered. Most importantly they instilled in us the values and morals I still hold dear. Treat others with kindness. Be grateful for what you have. Work hard, try your best, and never give up no matter what life throws at you. In some ways Iâm grateful for my modest upbringing and the appreciation it gave me for the little things in life.
Even though my friends lived in nice suburbs while I lived in a run down ranch house, even though they had nintendos and nerf guns while I had cheap plastic toys, even though we ate on a shoe string budget and couldnât go on fancy vacations, even through the emotional trauma of it all, I still look back on my childhood fondly. I am eternally grateful for those years. Wandering around the pasture. Erin and I letting our imaginations run wild. Going to cub scouts every week. Making our own fun roaming around the church after hours while our mom was there to do whatever she was there to do. My parents scraping every penny to make holidays and birthdays special. I wouldnât trade all the dinners of beans and cornbread for anything else. Iâll always be a humble country boy at heart.
- Misty Mountain Hop -
Three months after my 11th birthday we packed up the house, loaded the moving truck, and drove half way across the country to start a new life in Washington. My dad had been unemployed for a while and ended up finding a job with the boy scouts in Everett. It would give our family a modicum of economic security and put us closer to my dadâs family in Oregon. It was a jolting transition to say the least. Shortly after we moved puberty hit like a ton of bricks. My early childhood was firmly left in Texas and my teenage years made their angsty debut in Washington.
We moved into a quiet suburb 30 minutes north of Seattle and for the first time our family had a level of comfort we had never had. We could afford name brand cereal! But simultaneously my fatherâs anger issues were coming to a boiling point. Also my sister and I were diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. It was a very tumultuous time. My defense mechanism was to retreat, and I became terribly introverted and detached, retreating into music and video games. My sister went the opposite direction and became a loud, boisterous spit-fire, finding herself at home in the world of theater. I think we both already had the predilections for these respective personality traits, but the dissonance in the family only exaggerated them.
After a few years we moved into another house around the block. It was around this time that my fatherâs temper finally became too much and he started seeking help to work through some things. It took some time but I canât stress enough how much of a different person he was after that. Night and day. I was in high school at this point and it was also around this time that I started to become disillusioned with the status quo of society. The modern school system seemed pointless, I started smoking weed, and music became the end all be all of my existence. It still is. Music is life! I dropped out of high school and decided to live the life I wanted to live.
Throughout my teenage years I played in different bands, experimented with all kinds of drugs, met and broke up with my first true love, entered the work force, and started the slow painful transition from adolescence to adulthood. It was a wild time! While part of me wishes I had stuck out high school, I have never regretted the choices I made. I saw that so much of the reality around me was a construct of our culture and I sought to push the boundaries of that reality. And Iâm glad I did. I learned lessons the hard way, on my terms. I saw past so many lies and illusions and fallacies of how weâre expected to live our lives and perceive the world. I created my own world of truths and morals instead of blindly accepting the ones being pushed on me. It was an incredibly eye-opening and freeing time in my life and I credit those experiences for a lot of the wisdom and knowledge that Iâve absorbed.
*Disclaimer: I am grateful that I came out of that time in my life relatively unscathed. I know/knew many people that couldnât claim themselves so lucky. It takes an incredibly strong will to toe the line and step back without going over the edge. Even though I wouldnât change a moment of it, I wouldnât recommend the life I led to anyone.
- Retreat and Rebirth -
After the last band I was in during those days broke up, our collective friend groups started to dissipate. As the realities of adult life started to pull from different directions most people rose to the occasion. I did not. Burnt out from the crazy ride and being overwhelmed by life I retreated to a world of isolation. A little solitude is healthy. I consider myself an outgoing introvert (A term a like a lot). But I took it too far. Unemployed for three years. Letting many friendships dwindle and slip away. Spending my days doing nothing but smoking weed and playing video games. It was unhealthy and I didnât know how to change. Then the universe decided it was time. Just after my 22nd birthday I finally cut ties with a very close but deceptively toxic friend. After smoking half a pack a day since I was 16 I decided to quit. And I decided to take a break from smoking weed. Then to top it all off my childhood dog that I had had for 14 years died. To this day that remains the most transformational time in my life.
I spent that spring and summer reconnecting with myself and what was important in life. Taking care of my diabetes. Eating healthier. Gardening. I leaned into making mixtapes like never before. It is still my main hobby. Musica es vida! I had what I can only describe as a spiritual awaking. Come fall I was smoking weed again but with a renewed respect for the plant. I had a job doing something I had unexpectedly developed a passion for, cooking. And I found myself coming out of my social isolation. It was like I ended a three year hiatus from the world. I still think of my life in terms of before that time and after.
Then three years after I hit the reset button on life I was ready for another change. I was 25 and the inexorable march of time wasnât stopping. So I finally moved out of my parentâs house. No shame! Science says that adolescence in modern humans lasts into our early twenties. And I was definitely still weening out of my teenage years at that age and was lucky to have such amazing supportive parents. It wasnât until 24/25 that the existential dread of life started to set in and I thought, shit I gotta get outta here. December 2012, the apocalypse didnât happen, and I moved in with my sister in downtown Seattle. She herself had spent the last few years overcoming her own traumas and wrestling with her own demons, and she helped me step even further outside my comfort zone into the greater world. I am so grateful for the two years we got to live together as fledgling adults.
- She Saved Me -
Just shy of a year living among the sights and sounds of the city, I found myself falling into a dangerous rut. I had been at the same job for three years. Commuting between the suburbs and downtown. Six years since my last relationship. Not much of a social life. And finding escape from the dull routine at the bottom of a bottle. Get up. Go to work. Come home. Get drunk and high and play video games or watch tv. Rinse, repeat. I suddenly found myself back where I was. And again I didnât know how to break the cycle. Then I met the one person that would change my life in ways I never could have expected. The one person that would rock my world, wake me up to the true possibilities of existence, and become the one person that I could truly never live without.
One fall day I walk into work to see a new face. Olivia was her name. Damn sheâs cute, I thought. And I quickly became enamored with her personality. But it would take 6 months of quietly pining for her before I had the courage to try my hand. Then on a fateful day in May we spent a whole day together. Then a whole week together. Then the summer that would change my life forever. We fell madly in love. I stopped drinking like a horse. My heart was opened to another for the first time in many many years. My mind was awakened by a mind I so closely related to. My body was refreshed by the passion I had been so long without. It was another rebirth of the soul, the kind that shook me to my very core. I had almost resigned myself to being alone forever, working a dead end job and drinking the nights away. Then she saved me. She remains my best friend, my rock, and my favorite person in the whole world.
- My Place -
Invigorated and encouraged, I found a new job. A slight step up in the culinary sense. Challenging yet rewarding. Olivia moved in with us. Then a few months later we got our own place in north Seattle. Shortly after we got a pupper. It was an incredible time. Feeling truly independent and self-supportive for the first time. Developing an amazing relationship with the person that I quickly realized I could spent the rest of my life with. This was the first time in my life I could attest to feeling the slightest bit like an adult. Of course I had realized long ago that you never really feel like an adult. You donât just wake up one day like a switch was flipped and go, oh Iâve got it now. Life is a constant journey of growth and learning. Weâre all just faking it till we make it.
But this was the first time in my life where I felt like, ah okay this is it, this is life, this is being an adult. Waking up every day, doing your best to navigate life, and constantly trying to figure out what it means to be you, what's important to you. Then life set up to deliver another wave of challenges to overcome. It was around this time that my family experienced a huge upheaval. We almost lost someone very close to us and it rattled me to my core. Then my boss was involved in a car accident and as his assistant I was suddenly interim kitchen manager. A couple months later the owner was impressed enough to make it official and I toke my first salaried job.
I relished the opportunity and strove to run that kitchen the absolute best I could. I went above and beyond. I poured everything I had into it. I learned so much about the restaurant game, management, cooking, and above all about myself. It was an intense period of personal growth. At the same I was coming into my own as a leader and a cook, I was also dealing with multiple family tragedies. And as much as I loved the work, the restaurant, and the owners, the stress of the job started taking its toll. Salary is a double edged sword in any industry, but especially in food service. If you know you know. I was doing my best to soldier on but I got to a point where enough was enough. I had come into some money and decided to take some time off. I left on good terms and will never forget the lessons I learned and the people I met.
- Intermission -
I had just turned 30. I had spent the last two years running myself ragged as the kitchen manager of a bustling Seattle restaurant. I put my blood, sweat and tears into that place. It was time for a break. I invested most of the money I inherited, and then set enough aside to to take some time to live life again. I rested. I remembered how to not be anxious every waking moment. Olivia and I went on a cross country road trip to see the national parks and visit my home town in Texas. I proposed. She said yes! It was so incredibly cathartic and needed. I am still grateful I had the opportunity to take the time I needed to reset.
Later that year it was time to go back to work. I ended up back at the little place in the burbs where I started my journey. I was happy to take the lessons I learned and come back as kitchen manager. It was just what I needed to ease back into the industry. The perfect place to put into practice my new found appreciation for work life balance. Meant to be a temporary step, as soon as I did all I was able to do to help them right the ship, it was time to move on. My father in law put me in touch with the chef he worked with and he brought me on board. It was a significant step up in the culinary scene, and Iâve been tapped to take over for the sous chef.
- And Now For Something Completely Different -
Now here I am. 32 years old. That mythical age I held in random esteem when I was a kid. Looking back on my life and thinking about what Iâve learned along the way. Even though I still struggle with my less savory qualities - I fear change and the unknown. Iâm scared of success. I suffer from impostor syndrome and doubt my own strengths. I avoid confrontation. - Iâm working on it. For the most part I love who I am. Iâm proud of the person Iâve become. But it took a time. And work. I made peace with childhood traumas. I fought through pain, did some serious introspection and soul-searching, and came out the other side a better person for it. I looked inside myself to find the strength to overcome my demons. I think itâs inside all of us. Some people attribute it to a higher power. Some people find peace and comfort in the company of others. Whatever it takes, weâre all capable of making changes for the better.
If there is one thing life has taught me itâs that we are never done learning. We never stop growing. We never âfigure it outâ. Weâre constantly being tested by the realities of life and doing our best to rise to the occasion. At 32 I may be an adult by most standards, but Iâm still sorting out what that even means, what my purpose in life is, and waking up every day just trying to be the best me I can be. Thatâs life. And Iâm grateful for the safety and security that gives me the luxury of musing on such ephemeral topics. Iâm grateful for every day I wake up and get another whack at this crazy thing called living. Iâm grateful I got to exist at all. I donât spend much time these days waxing on the countless possibilities of the whatâs and whyâs of reality. At the end of day itâs a mute point. My consciousness still inhabits this physical body in this physical realm, and if I wanna keep seeing how far I can take it I have to play by its rules. Even if I occasionally see how far I can bend them. Whatever comes next, whatever is beyond the great void, my reality exists in the here and now. Iâve come to terms (for the most part;) with my mortality and the existential dread. It reminds me that its up to myself to find purpose in life. So I try to live in the present, to work on my shortcomings, make the best of every day, and treat others how I would want to be treated.
As I stare down the barrel of the âbest yearsâ of my life, I am hopeful and optimistic about the future. If not for the world at large (juryâs still out on that one) than at least for my ability to navigate it and make the best of it for myself and others. I'm engaged to my best friend, I'm in a kick ass band making music with some of my oldest friends, and I've got a job that I'm incredibly excited about. Lao Tzu said, âIf you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future.â Wise words. But at the same time I think its important to remember where we came from and retain the lessons weâve learned along the way. As well as looking to the future so that we may live with purpose. I think living is a delicate balance of keeping in mind all that was, all that is, and all that may be. And weâre all just doing our best to find the balance. Do whatever makes you happy as long as it doesnât hurt others. Try to leave the world a better place for those that come after. Be nice and work hard. Love yourself so that you can love others. Namaste!
- Alek
TL;DR - I just turned 32. Life is crazy. Be nice and work hard. Love yourself and love others. Do your best. Namaste!
