In December 1894, a new undergraduate journal at Oxford called The Chameleon asked Oscar Wilde to contribute to its debut issue. Wilde, never one to write to order, sent back 35 disconnected, provocative, and thought-provoking aphorisms under the title ‘Phrases and Philosophies for the Use of the Young’. One of them states, “The old believe everything. The middle-aged suspect everything. The young know everything.” With my birthday coming up, I have been trying to figure out where I fall on Wilde’s spectrum. There is a small irony in the title. The phrases are for the use of the young, but it is the young who, in Wilde’s own telling, already know everything and so have no use for advice.
As a founder and PhD scholar researching the outer space economy, it is foolish to think I can even come close to knowing everything. There was this glorious period in my early 20s when I felt that I knew who I was, had a clear sense of where I wanted to be, and had figured out how to get there. Life turned out differently. In many ways, I exceeded the wildest expectations of my younger self. In others, I disappointed myself.
Since I am not young, am I middle-aged? To suspect everything is to have been wrong enough times that you start reading the fine print on your own enthusiasms. The middle-aged have learned that the calling can become a cage, that the person you swore you’d never become is often just the person you become slowly, one reasonable compromise at a time. It is the scar tissue of disappointed expectation. I have some of it, but not enough to surrender at its altar. I think the best is yet to come. I am energised by the future. I don’t think anyone who knows me would call me a skeptic. Clearly, I am not middle-aged. Maybe I am old? Do I believe in everything? Becoming not-so-young exposed me to enough ideas and ideals that belief without consideration seems far-fetched. So, not old. Not really.
So, where does that leave the other somewhat young people and me? The unshakable belief of the early 20s is gone, the settled wariness of the middle-aged has not crept in, and the naiveté and wisdom of old age seem far away. I don’t have big plans for the birthday. For a change, it will pass without fanfare.
I think age is less about certainty than Wilde would have us believe. As a somewhat young person, I think maturity or lack thereof comes down to what we pay attention to and how much time we think we have. I have loved being around people all my life. It has energized me thus far, and I doubt it will be any different going forward.
Just when I started working at Microsoft, I stumbled upon Blaise Pascal’s quote, “All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” Since then, I have consistently carved out time for myself to think, reflect, and enjoy solitude. However, even in those moments of quiet, I have been in a hurry to get to the next big thing on my calendar. This birthday, I thought I’d try something different, so I cleared out my calendar. There is nothing for me to do except to be grateful for what I have, be hopeful for what I want, and accept that fear, uncertainty, and doubt, or like the young say, FUD, is part of the adventure.
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