No one knows what's next for you

We all have to learn from our own mistakes. (State Library of New South Wales)

All over the United States this month, new high school graduates are moving into their college dorms.

It’s a migration that’s exciting and, for many, has a feeling of inevitability. However, freshman year of college is not thirteenth grade. Higher education is a separate endeavor from secondary education, a non-compulsory privilege. Whether it’s today, tomorrow, November, or sometime next summer, some of the members of the class of 2021 are going to figure that out. And some are going to realize that they do not want to participate and they don’t have to. Welcome to adulthood, friends!

I believe that’s the hardest thing about college: You don’t have to go. For me, freshman year zipped along just fine. However, beginning in my sophomore year, at the close of every semester, I would ask myself whether I was willing to continue with the next one. And every time, I made the decision to do so despite an overwhelming desire to quit. Eventually, I graduated and I was free. But really, I had been free the whole time and I knew it. I understood that my life was my own. That’s what made it so difficult to stick with something that I didn’t really want to do: I knew I had a choice.

Looking back, I don’t regret finishing my degree. But it didn’t have to be so grueling. I framed it only as a dilemma: Do I stay or go? I didn’t know how to move forward with any other options in addition to those two, so I simply maintained the status quo.

When we’re kids, we think that adulthood will mean doing whatever we want: motorcycles, roller coasters, and as many cookies as we can stuff into our faces. However, by the time we are old enough to have a say, a lot of us choose the “responsible” path because that’s what we see in front of us.

It takes time to realize that there are more possibilities out there. We begin to see that though we might hear voices in our head telling us what we’re supposed to be doing, we aren’t beholden to them. We can actually do whatever we want, as long as we’re willing to face the consequences.

It can be overwhelming to discover that we’re in charge of our own lives and that no one else gets to tell us what we should do unless we ask them to. I remember a moment, post-college, when I had just started as a volunteer at Bosch Bahá’í School in the Santa Cruz Mountains of California. I was by myself, playing the piano in a little sitting room off of the dining hall. It was evening. All of a sudden it was as though the ceiling had blown off of the room and I was staring into the immensity of the universe, truly alone but for my connection to God. My parents weren’t responsible for me anymore—I was responsible for myself. My life was up to me.

The intensity of this revelation helps me to understand why so many of us shrink back from stepping up to steer our own ship. It’s scary and confusing and we don’t know where we’re going at first. No wonder we look to others to show us how to be and what to do.

Though it’s helpful to have guidance, advice, and models and mentors to follow, it’s important to keep the truth in mind: No one else knows what’s best for you or what’s next for you. And when someone tells you how you should be and how your life should go, you don’t have to listen. You don’t have to follow.

For me, I have learned to recognize that when I feel a sense of lightness and exhilaration, I’m on the right track. When I feel heaviness and hopelessness, I am going astray. I can pay attention to how my interactions feel in order to know whether I can trust what a person is telling me.

However well-meaning the person may be, if my world gets smaller and sadder as a result of engaging with them, I know that I can’t follow their advice or go where they are wanting me to go. On the other hand, if I feel a sense of possibility and expansion—even if it scares me a little—I will consider that person’s suggestions and advice.

Of course, these same feelings allow me to guide myself, too. Even I don’t always know what’s next for myself, but I can figure it out if I’m willing to be patient and listen to what my feelings are telling me.

Nobody reading this has to go to college, work a nine-to-five job, live in the city where they grew up, get married, have kids, or dress a certain way. When the expectations and obligations are piled on, this is hard to see. When you’ve spent years doing what’s required among others who are doing the same, this is hard to believe. Nobody has to believe me or agree with me, either—that’s the beauty of it.

What do you think? How do you make the big decisions about your life? Have you ever done something that people were telling you not to do because it felt right to you? How did it work out?