25 and the Dream Job

Many of my friends have turned 25 in the last two months, and many more 25th birthdays are on 2006's calendar. A year ago, we celebrated the first 25th birthday within our group in Las Vegas. The vacation was fun, but the birthday itself was not treated as a big deal. The birthday boy did not give it a second thought and neither did the rest of us. It was not the mark of adulthood, not an indication that, by now, you should definitely have made something of your life. Now the 25th birthdays are ticking off one-by-one as the days go by (four this month). Those who are now a quarter-century old are not taking it as well as last year's Turning-25-Frontrunner. I've heard: "I'm 25 and haven't done shit with my life" "I thought I'd be married by now" "I thought I'd have kids by now" "I thought I'd have accomplished something by now." Many of them took the occasion as an opportunity to quietly freak out about the current state of their love lives and careers. I don't think I'll be that upset about turning 25. (Maybe that's because it's a year and a half away.) The number itself doesn't intimidate me; it will be like all my other birthdays in the last five years. I usually have a day or two around every birthday in which I weigh my life progress, let myself get bogged down by what-ifs and regrets, and kick myself for not accomplishing more yet. Then I get presents or phone calls, listen to out-of-tune voices singing to me, and cheer up. What I'm getting at is: How many people are truly happy with where they are? At 25, at 35, at 45, at 55? At an informal breakfast meeting with our company's president, attended by about 15 people from different departments of the company, we were each asked about our dream job. All of these people, who seem to live and breathe their current occupations, had dream jobs that were completely different. Someone said they would be a pilot, another said they'd want to coach a college football team, another said they'd want to write a novel, another said they'd want to be a photojournalist for National Geographic. Why aren't they doing that? Do they go to bed on the night of their birthday each year feeling like their life is a disappointment? It's the cliche career advice: "What's your dream job?" and whatever you answer should be the job you pursue. I know it's not that easy. But I wonder why it's not that easy. Why do people let themselves be intimidated by the things they want more than anything? Why are we afraid of taking risks in relationships or jobs that could have infinite payoff? How (and why) do we let our lives meander so off-target from our initial aspirations?