Quarter Life Threshold

Being the nerd I am about story theory now, I can’t help but think about my upcoming birthday as “crossing a threshold.” Or the moment when the hero decides to officially embark on the adventure thrust in front of them.

Around the quarter mark of a story, the protagonist makes a decision. To go on an epic quest. To finally ask out that boy. To partner with someone with an iffy personality for a project. To ignore the pleas for help. No matter what they decide, it’s always a decision, a choice.

On Sunday, I leave the first quarter of my life behind (assuming I live to 100, which I plan to). It marks the end of the “normal world,” and the entering of the “chaos world.” Here, things aren’t going to be easy, maybe ever again. I’m going to delve deep into my quest as well as my psyche. I’ve already begun this process, but it can only get deeper from here.

I begin my Road of Trials next Monday. The tests of will, the embarrassing failures, the shocking successes.

I’ve always felt like I was behind the curve when it came to this stuff. I should be living on my art by now, I thought. I shouldn’t be stuck in an office building.

But maybe this is my actual quarter mark. Maybe I have to make the decision to plunge into the depths of the unknown, chaotic, painful, and dangerous.

My internal monologue seems to think so anyway.

It’s not going to be easy. It’s a quest after all. Only the bravest, wisest, kindest, cleverest get to that grail. Celebrated authors are few. Renowned artists are few. Hell, even actually good YouTubers are few. It’s kind of a competition, a weird mystical need for hard work and luck to culminate in  your favor.

Not going to get there by complaining. Though I know I will. I haven’t crossed that threshold yet, as much as I’d like to think so. I haven’t met my Goddess. I feel like, when you do, you know it. It’s a pivotal turning point for your psyche. I’m afraid of it. I’m encouraged by it.

But yeah. Can’t keep complaining about being tired, having a headache, having to bike to work in the cold. Someone has it worse than you, always. Someone has it better than you, always. But you are not them. You’re on your own unique heroic journey. If you spend that journey complaining about getting up at 5 am, then you’re just wasting time that you could be using to get out of bed and work on that art, that story, that video game, that essay, that video, that project.

It’s going to be hard. That’s a given.

To be worthy of the title “hero” in your own story, you have to step up to the plate.

Otherwise… what the hell are you doing?

These are my thoughts the week leading up to my 26th birthday.

Am I a hero…

Bit deep maybe, too mystical and fantastical. But still a valid question even in the scope of reality.

If I’m not committed to my quest, then what am I doing?

Hope everyone is having a lovely and creative morning, afternoon, evening, and/or night! I’ll talk to you soon.

What do you think? Let me know ;)