I can still remember turning 30, mildly depressed that I had no car and no house. I had a relationship that was going through a rough patch during that period, but at least I had a job that was secure and paid well. That is, until the dotcom bubble burst a year or two later. We Chinese people mark life progress by our possessions, so I recall being disappointed that I wasn’t as far along in the material sense as I’d liked.
Now it’s ten years down the road. I’ve got the requisite car and house. Still have a secure, well-paying job. The relationship has gone bust, with the accompanying angst and self-doubt. I don’t feel particularly fulfilled, as if somehow my life is missing a compass. My true north has not revealed itself, nor do I know what I should do to find my way as a human being.
I sweat the big and small stuff. I fret that our icecaps are melting and the polar bears are drowning, that the Maldives will be submerged in a few decades. I fret that Jews and Arabs are still killing each other in the Middle East, that terrorism threatens all of us on a daily basis. I fret that my job, while interesting, doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.
I wonder if making money is all that matters, yet I enjoy the trappings of affluence immensely: dining at quality restaurants, trips to exotic places, shelling out big bucks for the latest gadgets. I fret that I am a hypocrite. Are these the typical thoughts of a Gen X-er? In a year’s time will I shave my head and join a commune in India? I wonder if there are other middle-aged men out there that feel the same. What do they do when they have these thoughts?
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