Crossing into another decade in our lives is always exciting. From the time we reach double digits for the first time (which is probably the only time we are yearning to be ‘old enough’ for this or that), we are always looking out for those milestones.
There’s something about entry into the next set of tens that makes us want to take stock and see in which direction our life is going. What have we done so far and what do we seek to achieve over the next ten years?
There is really no need to do this since every year is special and we never repeat it (unless, of course, we are in the habit of staying sweet 16 for a couple of years, fresh 21 for another couple and evergreen 29 for the next two decades ...), but we do it anyway.
The teen years — now that we look back — seem to embody George Bernard Shaw’s observation: Youth is wasted on the young. We made mistakes at every turn we took, we wasted talents, we ignored opportunities — but despite all that, we got ourselves an education, built friendships that unbeknownst to us at the time would stand the test of time. And we created memories that would provide succour in moments of distress.
In our 20s, we took those fledgling’s faltering steps into our careers and in some cases, our new lives as married people. We tried to get used to different types of people at work and a different family and different ways of doing things at home. All that crammed into those few years, when we had barely got over our teen angst ...! Luckily, we were young enough to take the knocks that came our way on all fronts and we had the energy to go back and try to undo all the many, many minor catastrophes we had caused. We built character. And we made resolutions: Short-term goals, which we forgot in a very short time, and long-term ones, which, decades later, could still be on the back burner ...
The 30s scare everyone in their 20s. Thirty sounds mature. We are finally full-fledged adults — but what if we don’t feel that way? What if we are still floundering in our heads while trying to put up that excellent show of confidence and panache? We try to dig in and get comfortable in the roles we had chosen. Maybe we become parents and our world turns upside down overnight — and when we rouse ourselves from the aching tiredness of sleeplessness and overwork — somehow, without even a faint awareness of what was happening while we were not looking, we have turned into different people than those we had started out as!
The magic figure of 40 is when many of us begin with serious stocktaking. We dredge up the resolutions that are still unfulfilled — in case we still have them in writing (which, incidentally, it is a good idea to record). The ‘What, Me Worry?’ years of Alfred E. Neuman and MAD magazine are gone along with our 30s. Everything is in dead earnest now.
We slip into the roles of no-nonsense parents. We have on our hands idle teenagers whiling away their time and wasting their talents. We suffer acute memory loss and have no recollection of being like them at any time in our own lives.
That continues into the 50s — and beyond — despite everything our children and the changing world try to teach us.
And eventually, at some magic time (hopefully before it is too late and we cannot anticipate decades anymore) we understand that every moment ahead depends on whether we are willing to learn, adapt, accept and count the colours in the rainbows — and in the rain.
Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.