Parneet Pal December 29, 2003
Tags: age , generations
A few weeks ago, molting out of my twenties, especially the tumultuous final stretch, I found myself on the other side of a quarter-life (“mid-life”, for those still stuck in the twentieth century) crisis. Metamorphosed, I waited expectantly for signs of familiar faces. The wait was long.
Could it be that I had changed myself beyond recognition?
Then, I found them. Amidst the heap of Dinkies, Yuppies, Queers and Metrosexuals, there stood a new breed of Tireds. Craving a better balance between career and personal life, these Thirty-something Independent Radical Educated Drop-out’s have jumped out of the Brand-wagon to grab life by its horns. Far from rejecting progressive modernity, they just choose to chuck the “recycled marketing rubbish” out of their lives, opting for simpler abundance. They figured out early what we all know by now that quantity of consumption does not always equal quality of life.
The working mantra seems to be “less demand, deeper reward”. Successful lawyers, physicians and bankers are leaving their high stress careers to earn less money but more satisfaction, swapping Egocentric Existence for Sustainable Living. They are selling flowers, coffee or working for a non-profit. Don’t confuse them with the Flower Power Children of the sixties or any of the New Age Poseurs. Their motivation is self-evolvement rather than self-involvement.
These “Metrospirituals” lie somewhere in the middle of the AustereMonk - ConsumerWhore spectrum, striving to make the most of life without isolating themselves from the rest of humanity. They are as interested in the failure of the WTO and the UN as the thrills of skydiving from a helicopter in the North Pole. Money is a moderately employed tool, not a slave driver. Their collection comprises experiences rather than shiny baubles.
There are several reasons why Tireds become what they are. My route was a high drama sordid twist of fate, with enough masala for a blockbuster movie. It included journeys between the mecca of Eastern philosophy India and the enticing entrails of America’s unapologetic capitalism, caving and collapsing relationships, an ongoing odyssey with mortality and everything else in between.
I was raw and vulnerable and lost myself completely, only to discover that it was a necessary step before I could begin the real search. My short new found life so far has been fulfilling, amazing, and thankfully the advertising industry has nothing to do with it.
I’m thirty, Tired, and loving it.
Then, I found them. Amidst the heap of Dinkies, Yuppies, Queers and Metrosexuals, there stood a new breed of Tireds. Craving a better balance between career and personal life, these Thirty-something Independent Radical Educated Drop-out’s have jumped out of the Brand-wagon to grab life by its horns. Far from rejecting progressive modernity, they just choose to chuck the “recycled marketing rubbish” out of their lives, opting for simpler abundance. They figured out early what we all know by now that quantity of consumption does not always equal quality of life.
The working mantra seems to be “less demand, deeper reward”. Successful lawyers, physicians and bankers are leaving their high stress careers to earn less money but more satisfaction, swapping Egocentric Existence for Sustainable Living. They are selling flowers, coffee or working for a non-profit. Don’t confuse them with the Flower Power Children of the sixties or any of the New Age Poseurs. Their motivation is self-evolvement rather than self-involvement.
These “Metrospirituals” lie somewhere in the middle of the AustereMonk - ConsumerWhore spectrum, striving to make the most of life without isolating themselves from the rest of humanity. They are as interested in the failure of the WTO and the UN as the thrills of skydiving from a helicopter in the North Pole. Money is a moderately employed tool, not a slave driver. Their collection comprises experiences rather than shiny baubles.
There are several reasons why Tireds become what they are. My route was a high drama sordid twist of fate, with enough masala for a blockbuster movie. It included journeys between the mecca of Eastern philosophy India and the enticing entrails of America’s unapologetic capitalism, caving and collapsing relationships, an ongoing odyssey with mortality and everything else in between.
I was raw and vulnerable and lost myself completely, only to discover that it was a necessary step before I could begin the real search. My short new found life so far has been fulfilling, amazing, and thankfully the advertising industry has nothing to do with it.
I’m thirty, Tired, and loving it.
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