At the core of my book, Quarterlife, is the relatively simple proposition that humans in these twenty-some years of life are naturally attuned not just towards creating stability in life, but also towards the search for meaning.
To be honest, I don’t think it’s a terribly radical suggestion. Yet within developmental psychology, the academic world, and culture at large, the overarching belief is that people in this stage of life (“college kids,” “young adults,” “new parents” etc.) are really only focused on gaining financial and emotional stability, and that to be alert to anything else is an indication of dysfunction. Passing activism or creativity aside, the larger goals of “adulting” must reign.
For many of us, that prevailing notion has been disorienting at best. For others, there’s a creeping feeling of having been lied to when we find ourselves where we’re “supposed to be” as far as society is concerned, yet feel a persistent and aching sense of longing for something else.
Meanwhile, the search for meaning is a tricky thing to talk about because these feelings tend to be intangible and “impractical.” The ethereal feeling of seeking something is hard to name and explain. In trying to explain it to friends and family, the words often come out as inadequate and confusing. We do our best to figure out what is happening inside of us, while also doing our best to explain it to others.
It’s almost impossible to be clear or concise when trying to explain these feelings or when trying to define “meaning” itself.
I never want to write about this in a way that suggests that there is a single path toward finding meaning in one’s life. Alas, there’s not—no matter how many religious teachers, cults, or advertisements may suggest otherwise. When we are aching and desperate for clarity in our lives, we are so susceptible to being sold products and lies.
This search to alleviate the longing for something is also often interpreted as a disembodied pursuit, more like meaning is a philosophical idea than as something deeply physical and of this earth. The very notion of the quest is likely to evoke the image of a young European poet, walking the earth in search of “the truth” rather than for himself.
In reality, this desire for meaning is deeply embodied and has more to do with one’s life than just the mind. We feel the desire for something else in our bodies, like a thirst. And like a thirst, we also know when it’s been quenched and resolved. We know when we’re regularly in contact with water and when we are parched and desperate.
I often think of this quote from mythologist Joseph Campbell in regard to this question of meaning.
“People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. I don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking. I think that what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances with our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive.”
Indeed, ultimately, this is more about a sense of wholeness, the felt alignment between our inner life and our outer life, than it is about the acquisition of some single belief.
This is why access to trauma-informed care, to good food, clean water, stable housing, therapy, safety from abuse, health care, education, child care and more are critical social supports to the search for meaning and the realization of a full human life. The longing to pursue one’s deepest dreams and fullest self is not privileged, it’s just human. Indeed, I’d argue it’s simply part of nature: all of life seeks its greatest form. The question is how many boulders and barriers and boots stand in the way.
The search for meaning is libidinous, it is passionate, and it can feel desperate. It is a desire to become ourselves as completely as we can, to be creative, to dive into an area of study, to become a doctor, to work with nature, to meditate, to become the fastest runner in the world, to feel free to love whomever we love, to have children or to never have children, to cook the perfect Italian food, or to care for creatures needing care. It is a different, extraordinary blend of interests and talents for each of us and it must be as much about adding beauty and joy to the world, as it is about ameliorating injustice and suffering. This is where attending to the specificity of our longings means trusting that ethereal instinct towards something. It doesn’t speak in words, but it holds wisdom for enhancing our lives and the world in the feelings, symptoms, dream symbols, and seemingly impractical and irrational longings.
Quarterlife in the World
In Ukraine, Quarterlifers are finding love and ways to survive the war.
In Los Angeles, a car is essential to feeling free in Quarterlife.
In Michigan, yet another mass shooting kills Quarterlifers and turns others into “survivors”—but for some, it’s not the first time.
In Texas, legislation threatens to close all polling stations on college campuses making it that much harder for students to vote between classes and without transportation.
In Florida, five years after the Parkland school shooting, these students would be Quarterlifers today.
Books
Tara Westover’s memoir, Educated, is one of my favorites. The story is riveting and her writing is engrossing as she reflects on the experience of her own search for meaning and purpose in Quarterlife after an isolated childhood with a paranoid, survivalist family in rural Idaho.
In the same vein, I’m curious to read the newly published Becoming Free Indeed by 29-year-old Jinger Duggar Vuolo about disentangling her brain and life from her father’s extremist Christian beliefs in her early twenties.
Movies
The focus of those two books is heavily on the need to Separate our own beliefs from our parents’ rules and world views in Quarterlife. Few movies convey this aspect of Quarterlife more beautifully—or more tragically—than the Into the Wild, based on the true story of Christopher McCandless, a once high-achieving student and athlete (stability type) who hits his limit, gives all of his savings to charity and heads into the Alaskan wilderness to figure out life on his own terms. (It’s almost like Educated in reverse…)
What’s Happening in Your Life?
I’m looking forward to writing a monthly “Dear Satya” edition of this newsletter with your questions on Quarterlife, stability and meaning, and everything in between.
What do you wish you could ask a therapist? What do you want to know about this time of life? What do you wish someone would just explain to you? If you’re the parent or an educator, what are you worrying about the Quarterlifers in your life?
Just reply to this email with your questions! I’ll begin working on a new Q&A edition right away.
xo, Satya
P.S.
I’m kicking off a six-session seminar online on Community Dreamwork this morning. If you’re new to dreamwork, this is an opportunity to learn-by-doing, with various resources provided along the way. There’s still time to join us as we record every session! The people that gather together for this work are remarkably lovely, smart, and safe folks. We have a wonderful time. (Discounts and scholarships are also always available. Click to learn more.)
I’ve also opened up my calendar again for one-on-one consultations.
As a twentysomething, I'm excited to read your book (currently waiting for it on hold at the library) and explore this theme in more depth. It's validating to have more concrete language for the existentialism I've often felt the past few years. It is indeed "deeply embodied" as you write - I viscerally feel when I'm moving in a direction that's nourishing, versus one that's depleting. At this point it feels like a lot of my successes and good experiences have been mostly luck and chance. While I don't believe in manifestation in the hippie spiritual sense, I am hopeful that as I grow older, I can tune up that "ethereal instinct" that you mention, so that I'm more actively guiding myself toward what feels right for me.
I love this. I felt those feelings of deep, aching longing (for what?) and "The ethereal feeling of seeking something is hard to name and explain" -- YES. In my twenties, a spiritual wanderer after being raised in high-control religion (which seems to be a bit of a theme?) I felt the way you describe all the time. It felt like no one else was talking about it though, at least not my age, so I found myself gravitating towards those in their second half of life. Wish I had your writings then! I'm currently in the stability phase, raising two little kids, but gazing towards the day when I can orient in a more meaning-focused way (I write as my preschooler loudly talks at me about her toy buses, and those days feel very far away 😂)
Anyway, thank you so much for your work!