A High School is directly across the street from my apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. It’s allegedly a magnet school for students gifted in the performing arts, although I’ve yet to see any proof of that. And, judging by their after-school demeanor, I doubt I ever will.
What I see, however, is not entirely unlike my High School experience at their age. For most, it’s the giddy excitement of warmer weather and summer vacation; for others, it’s the countdown to graduation and receiving a diploma, the official recognition of four years of hard work and dedication.
What do these several hundred inner-city kids in New York have in common with my Louisiana all-boys private school classmates and me? We were all on the precipice of adolescence; curious, naive, anxious, and waiting for life to begin.
Of course, the miracle of life begins the moment the Doctor slaps your ass, and it doesn’t stop until it does.
Instead, from a young age, we are instilled with the belief that life truly begins at a specific juncture. “Wait until High School,” they say. Or, “When you turn 18…”; “Once you’re in college…”; “When you’re an adult… ” I don’t know how you feel, but ‘adulting’ is overrated.
And still, we’ve all done it. We tell ourselves, “I’ll start living once I land my dream job.” Before realizing that the dream job is a lot of “busy” work, with long, frequent meetings that could have been emails. “Ok, I can start living once I find a partner.” But romance is only found in fairytales. Dating these days consists of texts, dating apps, and a chance encounter at Trader Joe’s.
A popular thought is, “When I have enough money, I can finally start living.” Like the bodybuilder who only sees a skinny kid in the mirror, however, there is never enough money. The more you have, the more you want. After bills, insurance, and the grown-up toys you buy to keep up your Instagram image, that money vanishes as quickly as your New Year’s resolutions.
As a result, many of us spend years in an existential waiting room, waiting for our number to be called while everyone else seems to be leaving us behind.
The not-so-funny punchline to this cosmic joke is that “life” is already happening. It always has been. It’s happening right now while you wait for something bigger, flashier, or more TikTok-worthy. Life is what happens while you make other plans.
It wasn’t until I settled into middle age that I realized that life is in the small moments: the laughter over memories made, the joy of a puppy, the unexpected compliment, or the satisfaction of helping someone in need. I’ve also come to understand loss and that tomorrow is promised to no one. I’m pretty sure that the people who died today had plans for tomorrow. So what are we waiting for?
The paradox of waiting for life to begin is that if we spend too much time waiting for it, we risk having the day we notice confetti at our feet pass us by.
In a single blink, all of your friends are married, the co-worker you trained is now your boss, and the lyrics to the songs on your kid’s Spotify playlist are incomprehensible.
Maybe you consider yourself a late bloomer, so you check your phone hoping to see some cheeky texts from your tribe, only to find engagement announcements, baby pictures, and someone’s outrageously successful side hustle selling sand at the beach.
Upon realizing that the parade has gone on without you, panic sets in. You start Googling things like “How to reinvent yourself and become a millionaire in six months.” You consider quitting your job and traveling the world, except you have $24 in your bank account, no passport, and you’re afraid to fly.
Determined to catch up, you try and cram a decade’s worth of experience into an afternoon. You buy an online course, sign up for a gym membership, and create a vision board that is mostly pictures of other people’s luxury items. In a quick attempt to become relevant and embrace trendiness, you jump down the Tik-Tok rabbit hole, trapped between beauty tip videos and teenagers explaining the stock market through lyrical dance.
The more you try to catch up, the more exhausted you become. Eventually, you accept that even though you were at the parade, you missed it. But guess what, it isn’t over. Imagine you’re standing on Magazine Street the Sunday before Mardi Gras, and just as one parade ends, another is right behind it. If you didn’t catch the first Krewe, make damn sure you don’t miss the second.
Who says you have to follow everyone else’s timeline? The best parties are those we give ourselves, so make your own fucking parade – in any town and at any time. It’s your life; you only get one, so go big! Do what YOU want to do. Eat the last piece of cake, buy the Prada shoes, and book the trip to Barcelona. You’ll figure out a way to pay for it later.
The truth is, no one actually knows what the hell they’re doing – some are just better at keeping their shit together, looking like they have a map while being lost af. But life shouldn’t be about catching up with someone else’s schedule. It’s about making your own journey A journey full of joy, laughter, and shared experiences, creating memories that will continue to touch, move, and inspire those you leave behind.
In those memories, you are immortal.
So, if you feel like you’ve been left behind, don’t. But understand that now is the time to grab the baton and strike up the band; your parade is rolling, with or without you.
Thank you for reading. If you have comments on this or suggestions for other articles, please email me at RyanRockfordNYC@gmail.com.
Until next time.
