Today I’m thirty years old. Yesterday, I wasn’t. I’ve taken it upon myself to organize a celebration in the form of pajamas all day. Holla! 🙂
The onset of middle age isn’t anything I expected. The deep pontifications of growth, time, and change haven’t hit me like I thought they would. I woke up in the same foggy-brained body in which I fell asleep and my coffee tasted no more bittersweet than usual.
So what makes these birthdays– the ones with a zero in them– such a big deal?
I’ve felt thirty since I was twelve. Maybe that’s why it feels so uneventful to turn thirty; maybe not. I’m an infant by comparison to almost all of the people I care about and it’s always been that way. My entire life I’ve stood on the outside of something greater than myself, stretching to see over some metaphorical fence to find a place I belong, a crowd that makes sense, some collective group of like-minded people who might provide my brain a reprieve from the monotonies of living. It’s why I started this blog, even.
And over the course of the past year since it began, I’ve certainly found my niche. Here in this space, I have an entire world of compassionate and intelligent people at my fingertips. I found a brother (Sprinklin Thoughts) and a few powerful people who I’ve come to consider friends (Wayward Spirit, Travis, Alarna Rose Gray, Jennifer Stuart, Sean Bidd, The Loon, Lucas A. Draeger, and many wonderful others). Not only have I found a place to build my bonfires, I’ve discovered company in which to stay warm and inspired beside them. The kind of kin that only the internet and a burning desire to be part of something could provide.
Thanks, WordPress. Happy birthday to me. 🙂
So while I’m playing in my flowerbeds and making dinner in pajamas, maybe someone can shed some light for me. What’s with all the fuss about “getting old”? Am I the only one who likes it?
Much of humanity suffers in denial and dismay for the simple lack of allowing the self to be human.
We resist much of what comes naturally to us: grief, sorrow, disappointment, melancholy, introspection, honesty, awareness, and pain (to name a few).
We waste such a great portion of our lives doing mindless trivial things to stimulate an empty entertainment of our happiness-hooked brains; when most of that time would be easily manifested into a genuine and lasting experience of joy —simply by embracing life, as is.
We spend our adolescence rushing towards an overly romanticized adulthood, and spend adulthood chasing after a fantasy of the childhood we never actually lived. We want our french fries and we want to eat them too. At three am. On a school night. We want our bicycles back and we want to ride them too. At three am. On a work night.
What can we do to transform ourselves? How does a person evolve from the mindless pursuit of immediate gratification to an existence filled with lasting satisfaction?
We must develop a sincere recognition of our feelings, and bravely acknowledge them — in spite of the discomfort and awkwardness they present for us. We must step boldly in front of ourselves with eyes wide open. We’ve got to establish an unshakeable confidence in our own personal power; a deep abiding trust that no matter how the circumstances may seem, we are a people who are going places. We might get taken under, on occasion, by invisible currents we weren’t prepared to swim against. But even still, we are headed somewhere. We are a force in motion. And so:
We keep on keeping on.
This is an excerpt from my comment in response to a post of Robert Hookey’s. You can find him (and said post) at http://youvebeenhooked.wordpress.com …’The Hook’ is a published author with an approachable point of view. For direct access to his blog, please view the first comment below; there you will find a ‘clickable’ hyperlink.