7 Tips for Surviving Your Mid-Twenties

Listen. Everyone's been there, will be there, or is currently there. The empathetic there to which I'm referring is that scary, depressing place called Your Mid-Twenties. You know, that time in your life when you survive on homemade sandwiches, self-harm by way of Facebook stalking your friends who are "already successful," and begin to question this whole idea that you should be passionate about your job. How about a gig that allows me to afford name brand shampoo? That'd really do it for me at this point.

Here are a few suggestions for getting through these dysfunctional years that we'll one day look back upon with wonder as to how we ever took for granted our wrinkle-free faces, children-free schedules, and money-free jobs (<--- see what I did there?).

1. Wine

I know I talk about wine a lot. If ever I drink enough that I'm regularly irresponsible or embarrassing, I'll stop raving about it so unabashedly. Until then, I'm giving wine every bit of praise it deserves. Wine can get you through a lot. I'm not saying to drink until you forget (that bullet point would be called "tequila"), rather have a glass or four until you are good and relaxed. Your heart rate low, your emotions high, and leaning on your old friend named Cabernet Sauvignon. He will listen to you, I promise.

2. Less-trashy reality television

Please don't watch Jersey Shore spin-offs or anything that revolves around partying, fighting, or babies getting spray tans. Rather, find a show that inspires you to get off your butt and stop thinking that your capabilities peak at figuring out how to alphabetize a column on Excel. A few recommendations: Dancing with the Stars, The Biggest Loser, and MasterChef Junior. I know, I know- I shouldn't be promoting TV-watching, but it beats scrolling through Facebook to see who did something more exciting than you this weekend. Especially if you're watching obese people run five miles, a woman with cancer dance the Rhumba, or an 8-year-old cook a ridiculously complicated Beef Wellington.

3. Find a gay best friend

This is the least offensive, most practical, and best advice I will ever give you. For the two or three men out there that read my blog, just skip this paragraph. I know you're skimming anyway. Gay guys are the best of both worlds. They're guys- so they are excellent cuddlers with insight to the male psyche. At the same time, they are boldly loyal, tirelessly sympathetic, and undoubtedly aware of the best brunch deals around. Also, I've never had someone pump me up quite as successfully as a gay man. You're down on yourself? Prepare yourself for a catalog of why you're the hottest, fiercest, most wanted girl in town. Not only are they great cheerleaders, they're awesome at making you feel needed. Gay men tend to be open- probably because they've learned to be very comfortable with themselves during the coming out process, so they'll ask for your opinion, voice how much they miss you, and let you in on their deepest, saltiest thoughts. For once, your voice is heard over the loud mid-twenties grind!

4. Walk more

I'm way less depressed about my looming car insurance bill when I am breathing in fresh air, safe from white walls and computer screens. I, like every normal person on earth, hate running, so I won't tell you that it will make you happier. I'm sure it would, but walking seems like a much less aggressive piece of advice. Even if it's just to Harris Teeter to pick up your Lean Cuisines- stop getting in your car to drive a quarter mile. Or if you're in a city, stop making the Chinese man come to your door. At least go out to get your General Tso. Get off the train a stop earlier, take a phone call outside...you get the idea.

5. Stop believing that spirituality is awkward

Trust me, I'm fully aware that we're mostly exposed to three types of spiritual people: a) The overzealous, completely unrelatable Christian on Facebook who openly condemns you for your love of wine, gay men, and most of the things mentioned above, b) The quote-loving yogi-type whose flexibility allows them a sense of enlightenment that your corpse-like limbs will never let you reach, and c) angry atheists who are really, really mad at said Christians and yogis. Now, pretend none of those people exist. What do you believe? If it's the Bible or the Quran- great, now what does it say? Will you do what it says? Do you want to read a history book about its validity? Maybe research something you weren't taught growing up? Try praying. Try meditating. Try going to church. Try going to a temple. Seek. You will find.

6. Don't text or drink and drive

Especially at the same time. This is how you survive your mid-twenties. Literally.

7. Don't take Facebook seriously

I don't know about you, but I'm fairly certain that every person I know is engaged or pregnant. If they're not, they have glamorous jobs as a fashion designer or news anchor, so who cares if they're single. Also, everyone seems to have a lot of friends, nice clothes, and an awesome sense of humor. But that's why I wrote this blog. I know for a fact that my Facebook friends with expensive new boots, stunning engagement rings, statuses that read "I'm so grateful to love what I do every day!", and pageant crowns on their heads (sound familiar?) are not, in fact, exempt from feeling like their worlds are sometimes falling apart. How do I know? Because they're in their mid-twenties. 

Oh, also this: http://shannonsnyc.blogspot.com/2011/11/facebook.html

Blood Brother

Sometimes our little minds don't even know when we're out of practice. Let's take singing, for example (I bet you can't imagine why I chose this topic). To put it simply, I know how to sing. I know the correct breathing techniques, warm ups, minor adjustments to the hard and soft palates, and other jingles that make for a healthy sound. When I haven't taken a voice lesson in a few months, I can walk myself through all of these nuances and sound the same as I did during my last lesson 120 days earlier. Or so I think. As soon as I go to another voice lesson, however, I find out just how much my sound has suffered while being out of practice. Here I am thinking it's like riding a bike, when in reality, my training wheels have been reattached without my knowledge.

This goes for most things in life. We think we will never lose a part of ourselves that has been "forever" etched into our brains:

The Healthy Part: Remember that time you gained 30 lbs and felt terrible about yourself? Never eat that much peanut butter again.
The Open Part: Remember that girl who seemed so mean, but ended up being such a great friend? Always give someone a second chance.
The Spiritual Part: Remember when you prayed on top of a mountain and never felt happier? Never lose that kind of faith.
The Driven Part: Remember when you almost couldn't pay rent and about had a heart attack? Always be grateful to have work.

The list could go on and on. I, for one, think I'll never lose these mantras that make me me, but often watch each one float away as though it was never part of my core being. Or- as related to the voice lesson- don't realize they're slipping away until I get a jolt back to reality. Last night, I got one of those jolts.

As I've mentioned before on this blog, I went to Chennai, India in 2004 and again in 2006. I volunteered in an AIDS home for women and children affected by HIV/AIDS, a leper colony, and elementary schools in the slums. I still think about my experiences over there at least weekly, if not daily. The way I perceive buildings, paved streets, cars, clothes, and other dignified things that Americans take for granted will always be in comparison to the humble luxuries- like shoes- in India. Strangely enough, I've let those daily comparisons fool me into believing that I have not forgotten what I learned in India. Watching Blood Brother- Sundance Film Festival winner of the U.S Grand Jury Prize for a Documentary and the Audience Award for a U.S. Documentary- reminded me just how much of India has slipped from my mind.

Rocky and his kids

Blood Brother follows an old friend of mine, Rocky Braat, through his journey working in an AIDS home outside of Chennai (a different home than the one in which I worked). Perhaps more appropriately worded, this documentary follows the start of his life in India, where he has now decided to spend his life serving children affected by HIV/AIDS. His journey will not end in this lifetime, which makes this documentary all the more inspirational and thought-provoking. Painfully graphic, yet somehow light-hearted, Blood Brother depicts the raw reality of Rocky's dedication, from his nursing a child through a seemingly fatal outbreak to his marriage to an Indian woman. Through it all, Rocky maintains an impossible amount of energy, humor, strength, vulnerability, and faith.

My 2006 trip to Chennai

Behind the camera (and occasionally in front) was Director Steve Hoover, Rocky's best friend, who happens to be married to one of my best friends, Kira Hoover. His beautifully artistic shots of India's landscape, each child's demeanor, and the emotion behind Rocky's experiences brought me back to my time in Chennai. I had forgotten that yearning for purpose that India left me craving- the idea of life with grander appeal than wealth and popularity. I am not particularly materialistic, but Blood Brother reintroduced to me a taste for life that I have rarely felt, certainly not acutely, since my departure from Chennai in 2006.

The Purpose Part of me is once again burning brightly. Chris (the boyf) and I are planning to sit down and discuss where this light is actionably leading us, but one thing is definite: Everyone needs to watch Blood Brother. Click here for showings near you (lots near all my New Yorkers!) or here to donate to Rocky's mission.