A few years ago, I was a guest at a class reunion at Princeton University. At one point, the conversation revolved around each of the alumni finishing the sentence, “Twenty-five years ago, I never would have thought that I...” One attractive woman stood up and said, “Twenty-five years ago, I never would have thought I’d be standing here, a Princeton graduate — with honors, mind you — saying, ‘I have no idea where I’m going or what my career and my life should be about for the next 25 years.’ ”
Two-thirds of the room stood and applauded her honesty and nodded in commiseration. I went up to her later and introduced myself. Her name was Claire. She was recently divorced, with two almost-grown children, and had just been downsized from an investment-banking firm. She couldn’t believe that her life had “turned out” like this. “I feel so insecure,” she said.
“It hasn’t ‘turned out,’ ” I replied. “This is just an inconvenient moment in a long and, hopefully, colorful life. And, anyway, it could be good.”
“Are you kidding?” said Claire. “I don’t know where I’m headed. I can’t see the future. I’m not even sure I know who I am right now.”
“That’s why it’s good,” I said.
You’ve no doubt had those moments when you don’t know where you’re headed — or even who you are. Life is running along smoothly, everything in its place, and then, wham! You find yourself thrashing about in the “in between”: in between jobs, in between relationships, in between an old idea of yourself and a new one. And it’s darned uncomfortable. Security was always the objective, the holy grail. You remember: There was national security and personal security, right? That’s when we knew that, no matter what, we’d be safe. Remember Social Security? (Actually, let’s not remember that right now.) How about job security? Financial security? There was this idea that if you worked and saved and kept a lid on your wildest dreams, you’d be fine. You’d go straight up the ladder from job to job in the same company and then, bingo: Florida! And the house right on the golf course.
Well, all those so-called securities are, if not defunct, at least a little iffy. And it may sound hard to swallow, but I believe with my whole heart that it’s OK. Insecurity can be good. We weren’t meant to live tidy, predictable lives with everything neatly laid out in front of us, like all our clothes for the next week — shoes, earrings, belts, and all. In fact, I think being comfortable, which Merriam-Webster defines as “enjoying contentment and security...free from vexation or doubt,” actually stunts growth. I’m not kidding. If we’re comfortable and secure, if we long for nothing, worry about nothing, where is the impetus to grow, to change, to invent, to reinvent?
