The Lost Art of Self-Discovery in an Industrialized Age

What are we doing to the youth of our nation?

When I reflect on my essays “Outsourced and Deskilled,” “The Paradox of Freedom,” and “The Deindustrialist: an Origin Story,” I notice a common theme across them that defines a major aspect of my life, and, I suspect, the lives of many in America and other industrialized nations. It's the theme of never truly having the opportunity, the time, or the chance to find one's passion in life—at an early age or at all. It's about the struggle to find something tangible that you can grasp, engage in day in and day out, understand and explore the intricacies of, fall in love with, and create something truly magical with. Something that is so uniquely you, that you could do for the rest of your life. Or, if not, develop the mindset to pivot and expertly dive into another passion, embracing it as if it were a new lover, and take it all the way again.

Our industrialized culture has effectively slammed shut the off-ramps on the interstate highway of growing up. Nearly everyone is funneled into the same path: preschool, kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, high school, and then college. For some, it's graduate or professional school; for others, it's straight into the workforce—predominantly corporate America. This path is followed regardless of one's actual passions, which may have been nurtured in college. However, these passions are often sidelined due to the burden of debt, the need for a paycheck, or the lack of hard skills necessary to create something meaningful and valuable in our inflated and expensive world. Others, like me, are indebted in another way for their college experience, such as military service. Those of us in this category are immediately shuffled into another system where free thinking and expression continue not to be the norm.

So, before you know it, your childhood evaporates. The jam-packed days of school, sports, homework, and extracurricular activities leave you with little to no time to figure out who you are, what you want to do, or who you want to be. Meanwhile, parents, caught up in their own work and the constant shuffle of meeting these demands, often lack the time to guide you through this self-discovery. Then, suddenly, you find yourself more of an adult than a child, working, studying, and practicing relentlessly under the weight of modern society's expectations.

That's at least the epiphany I had the other day when reflecting on the past four years post-military, and all the years in school leading up to them. When I left the military at 30, for the first time ever, I had the freedom to truly choose what I wanted to do next. Unfortunately, I soon realized that all I had to offer, after all those years of schooling and military service, was a slew of ‘soft skills’ such as leadership experience and the capacity to be successful within the industrialized machine of the American school system and the military.

Resolved to continue my journey, I ventured into business school, thinking it to be the natural progression for someone like me. However, I soon discovered that business school felt much the same as my previous experiences. It felt empty, as if I still wasn't living to my fullest potential. I continued moving mindlessly along the path I had been on for nearly 25 years, foregoing the chance to finally discover who I was and what I was meant to be. I can only imagine how many others have been robbed of the opportunity to notice this or to mourn this loss—or should I say, exploitation—of their lives.

Therefore, I opted out of the business rat race and pivoted toward healthcare and medicine, believing it to be more aligned with my principles of helping others. Unfortunately, this too was a rat race of a different kind, mirroring the business world but disguised in altruism. I felt superior simply because I was working towards becoming a doctor, a healer. Yet, even after graduating with another degree, I didn’t get the chance to enter that world, as I was denied from every medical school I applied to. This series of rejections, though disheartening, ultimately liberated me from the relentless cycle of predetermined paths and opened the door to a journey of genuine self-discovery.

Standing at a crossroads at 33 years old, after spending three more years trying to re-enter the industrialized machine on my own terms, I faced a critical decision: succumb to the pressures and just find a job, or break free and embark on a journey of self-exploration. I chose the latter, diving into writing incessantly in my journals. I wrote about my life, dreams, daily thoughts, struggles, faults, indecisions, aspirations, insecurities, ideas, and daily activities—essentially everything—in hopes of uncovering who I am and what my true purpose is.

Over a year later, I find myself here, not only recording these thoughts in my journal but also sharing them with you. I diligently type them out, refine them, and present them for others to see, read, and contemplate. Perhaps you, too, have experienced similar thoughts, feelings, or experiences.

But why did it take me until I was 34 years old to start figuring out my true self and my life's passions? (Note: I can't say I've completely figured it out yet, but I am much closer than I was in the past 34 years.)

I believe I never really had the chance to do so, especially during my childhood and teenage years, when most self-exploration and passion-driven inquiries are supposed to occur. This isn't the fault of my parents, but rather the entire system as it currently stands, with its incremental steps of schooling, sports, and extracurricular activities. But mostly, I'd say it's the fault of the American classroom, in its industrialized, conveyor belt method of educating the nation's youth. There's no flexibility for free thought or exploration. I fear it's become even more standardized and rigorous in recent years. With the onslaught of social media and technology, do kids even have the chance to be kids anymore?

At least I have incredible memories of exploring the 'Cello Acres' of my youth, playing for hours on end in the creek in my backyard during the summer months (and sometimes in the winter, when our dad and us would run out to jump in on January 1st to ring in the new year). Building the dam there to deepen the other side so my brother, cousins, and friends could swing and jump into it was exhilarating. That experience itself laid the foundation for my current love and espousing of nature. But do most kids these days even have opportunities like that, or are they completely consumed by academics, sports, and extracurricular activities to even have the chance to stop and breathe in the fresh air?

To say I'm concerned about what the future holds for my children is an understatement. But I'm also concerned about the future of all children. Perhaps it's selfish because my children will inhabit the same future as all these other children, and I desire the best for all, so society is as healthy and well-off as possible for my children and the generations to come.

But mostly, I think it's the mere fact that what I see in our education system and in the overly structured lives of our youth looks wrong, and I feel it's my duty as an American to say something about it.

And so I say it now, with the clarity that comes from years of introspection and a journey that took me through the very heart of the system I critique. This system, this 'industrialized life', is more than a mere pathway; it's a labyrinth with walls so high and thick that they block the view of the sky, of possibilities beyond its confines. It's a structure so imposing that it leaves little room for the individual spark of passion and creativity that makes each of us unique.

The essence of my concern, then, is not just for the youth who are currently navigating this maze but also for the future of innovation and personal fulfillment in our society. If we continue to herd our children through a one-size-fits-all educational system, if we persist in valuing productivity over creativity, conformity over individuality, are we not stifling the very qualities that lead to true progress and fulfillment?

In my own journey, it took years of conformity, of trying to fit into prescribed roles, before I realized that my true passion lay in the exploration of self and society, in the act of writing and reflecting. It was only when I stepped off the prescribed path, when I began to question and explore, that I discovered a sense of purpose and fulfillment that had eluded me in the years of following the script.

But this is not just about me. It's about a broader societal issue. How many potential artists, scientists, thinkers, and leaders are we losing because they never get the chance to explore and develop their unique talents and interests? How much richer could our culture be if we fostered a system that valued and nurtured individual passion from an early age?

We need a paradigm shift in how we view education and growth. It's not just about acquiring knowledge or skills to become a functional part of the workforce. It's about cultivating curiosity, encouraging exploration, and allowing the space and time for young minds to find their true calling. We must create environments where children can discover and pursue their passions without fear or constraint, where they are not just prepared for a career but are empowered to lead a fulfilling life.

As for my part, I have found a new purpose in advocating for this change, in using my voice and experiences to spark conversations and inspire action. I am hopeful that by sharing my story, I can encourage others to reflect on their own paths and to join me in this quest for a more holistic, individual-focused approach to life and education.

In conclusion, the journey to self-discovery and fulfillment is a complex one, fraught with societal pressures and systemic obstacles. But it is a journey worth embarking upon. For in the pursuit of our true passions, we not only enrich our own lives but also contribute to a more vibrant, diverse, and innovative society. It is time we reevaluate and reshape our approach to education and life, to unlock the full potential of the next generation and those that follow.

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Till next week, my friends,

Stay Aware. Stay Empowered. Stay Free.

-Greg

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