If you had told me five years ago what my life would like today I would likely not have believed you. If you had told me I’d be as happy as I am, I would have laughed.
Tomorrow I turn 30.
The question of how one feels about this plays on the the lips of others, and in your mind. How do you feel about turning 30?
As a marker, it seems that I’m a third of the way through – my aspiration, apparently, being to live to 90. A lot has happened. A lot. If I look back, it seems staggering how different my life has looked and played out. Much of it feels like an entire lifetime ago – which cannot of course be true.
I have not achieved and experienced all I had hoped, yet I have achieved and experienced more than I ever thought possible. Of course the dreams I have not as yet fulfilled will now never be so in my twenties. It is this that perhaps triggers the question and is the hardest idea to contemplate. How do I feel about those unfulfilled dreams? Is what I have achieved somehow enough for me at this changeover point? In many ways it must be. There is no option but forward; on marches time. Whether I am ready or not, it is the next step to take. All that I did not do in my twenties is behind me, yet before me to do in my thirties.
But I feel I have done what I could. I have loved, and lost, and learnt and danced and written. In so far as it depended on me, I have acted.
So am I ready to turn 30? It seems it’s just one more little step, another wake up to an especially beautiful looking day. It’s 365 days of possibility, and who knows what the next five years will bring. That in itself is a wonderful reason to look forward to thirty.
*to not overload this post with sentimentality – I did have a small crisis on Monday night and have all my advice repeated back at me by a friend…and there’s still time for someone to ask me out in the dying embers of 29 right?