The Plight of the Navel Gazers

Recently, I looked over an article about a group of people, who are in their twenties. It wasn’t badly written and yet I must admit, I very quickly lost patience with it. I congratulate the author for having enough endurance to describe the everydayness of twentysomethings; a group which is presumably having their own set of problems to deal with it. It seems that these sets of problems have a name of their own: a quarter life crisis.

The author, who was critical of this piece of the population also provided a link to the NYT article and a photo-collage of men and women in their twenties battling the big, bad world out there. After witnessing a few pictures of this shameless navel gazing, I made some kind of Tarzan-like sound (although I am sure far worse and less modulated since I was not calling out the whole animal kingdom, rather screaming in exasperation) and turned off the computer for the rest of the day. What sealed this decision was the fact that beside the photos of the navel gazers was included a brief bio about the few and select of these individuals. And wouldn’t you know it! Each and every single one of them had an “MFA” after their multiple hyphenated name (not from being married but from having weird, indecisive parents). Well, I thought, suddenly everyone is an artist!

The common thread in this self-indulgent exposition was a “hope” that this ghastly crisis will eventually go away. While living in communes of today’s age, things will get back to normal (whatever normal is). Once the crisis is either averted or once I courageously fight my demons, I will be free of problems for the rest of my life.

The navel gazers are restless. It is their desires to move to better spaces and places (and in case, you are wondering, no, this does not include marriage. That is so passé anyway). But the navel gazers do not know what these “clearly” better spaces and places truly are. They are longing for something else other than where they currently are.

Restlessness is not a terrible thing when you look closely into its essence. It is clearly an invitation to a life, which recognizes the order of things. A question, which is explicitly missing from the navel gazers’ self-search is “what.” What am I longing for?

In order to ask such direct question requires more than a set of conspicuous quests (“look at me, man! I am ruffled because I never sleep because I am always thinking!). The affectations must be left at the doorstep to reality. Then the navel gazers can enter, and begin the real work, which requires courage.

A phrase attributed to Plato goes something like this: “we are fired into life with madness…” What the navel gazers need is a little dose of this madness because they are currently dulling themselves, and as a result experiencing such phenomena as a “quarter life crisis.” In an effort to differentiate themselves from one another, they are blending in rapidly. After a few more years, the “MFA” will disappear into obscurity unless a real authenticity emerges, which does reside in their souls.

In an effort to be global or citizens of the world, they are terribly provincial and close-minded. They have looked up a definition of “individualism” in the dictionary but they landed on a page, which offers an explanation of “self-indulgence.” They have become walking shadows.

So, how does a navel gazer recognize a “portal” to reality? How does he stop being a shadow and become embodied as he was meant to be? I am reminded of St. Augustine’s phrase “Love God and do what you will.” But how can someone love God if he does not even believe in Him? Now, that indeed, is the question.