Life at 30
Life is a series of situations and some cause realizations. This is growing up, or I think it is. These are the things that move you from one stage of life to another. Some are common, that most people go through. Others come to each of us at different times, or maybe for some, never.
I feel like the older I get the more often I get these pauses in my days.They seem to reveal a life truth to me. More often I’m taking steps across the bridge into the next stage of life. I’m not sure I love it yet. It’s not my favorite. I regularly wish there was a way to go back.
Along with turning 30, I’ve had some heavy thoughts and experiences cross my path. I’ve stood by a best friend who lost a mom which has caused a pain I can not label. I never took the time to think about what this would be like. I never made a plan. I need plans. I am patiently waiting, and secretly worrying about my niece who will undergo open heart surgery in a few weeks to repair her teeny-tiny precious little heart. I’ve prayed more than ever that my brother (and sister-in-law and parents)won’t have to go through anymore pain. I’ve listened to a co-worker tell me about doctor’s appointments thinking nothing of it only later to be diagnosed with breast cancer. I’ve read emails and updates and checked photo blogs to follow the life of a best friend’s sister-in-law who started her 32nd year (or 33rd) year a victim of lymphoma. I’m done with cancer. I’m worried about friends and relatives out of jobs and those in poor health.
I’ve been putting myself in others shoes a lot more in the past months and found some things I can’t believe I didn’t realize until now. I think some of it is nature’s way, God’s way, of keeping things away from our hearts until we are ready to handle it. But am I ready to handle it? Is this what the next phase of life is about? Is this the emotional exchange for being financially stable, owning a home, being well into my career, and other “adult” accomplishments? Is this what it’s all about?
When it was just about my birthday, a lot of people seemed to want to know if I was “ok” with turning 30. And I wasn’t sure. A few moments of reflection proved that I indeed was ok with it. Maybe even a littler excited. At the time it seeemed that 30 was the age of a real adult. That it was finally time to just live. That I’d worked and worked and worked and now it was time to reap the benefits of all my hard work thus far. I knew that there is still more work to be done, but that it was different from college, establishing my career, setting up a long term financial plan. Thirty is the age of arrival. Or so I thought. But now I’m not sure. It’s ending up to be work, and a different type of work. More emotional and requiring even more inner reflection to survive. I’m sure I’ll make it, but man the slap in the face and rough start make me scowl at 30 so far.
Maybe in Ocotber, when I’m moments away from being married, I’ll have a different outlook
I feel like the older I get the more often I get these pauses in my days.They seem to reveal a life truth to me. More often I’m taking steps across the bridge into the next stage of life. I’m not sure I love it yet. It’s not my favorite. I regularly wish there was a way to go back.
Along with turning 30, I’ve had some heavy thoughts and experiences cross my path. I’ve stood by a best friend who lost a mom which has caused a pain I can not label. I never took the time to think about what this would be like. I never made a plan. I need plans. I am patiently waiting, and secretly worrying about my niece who will undergo open heart surgery in a few weeks to repair her teeny-tiny precious little heart. I’ve prayed more than ever that my brother (and sister-in-law and parents)won’t have to go through anymore pain. I’ve listened to a co-worker tell me about doctor’s appointments thinking nothing of it only later to be diagnosed with breast cancer. I’ve read emails and updates and checked photo blogs to follow the life of a best friend’s sister-in-law who started her 32nd year (or 33rd) year a victim of lymphoma. I’m done with cancer. I’m worried about friends and relatives out of jobs and those in poor health.
I’ve been putting myself in others shoes a lot more in the past months and found some things I can’t believe I didn’t realize until now. I think some of it is nature’s way, God’s way, of keeping things away from our hearts until we are ready to handle it. But am I ready to handle it? Is this what the next phase of life is about? Is this the emotional exchange for being financially stable, owning a home, being well into my career, and other “adult” accomplishments? Is this what it’s all about?
When it was just about my birthday, a lot of people seemed to want to know if I was “ok” with turning 30. And I wasn’t sure. A few moments of reflection proved that I indeed was ok with it. Maybe even a littler excited. At the time it seeemed that 30 was the age of a real adult. That it was finally time to just live. That I’d worked and worked and worked and now it was time to reap the benefits of all my hard work thus far. I knew that there is still more work to be done, but that it was different from college, establishing my career, setting up a long term financial plan. Thirty is the age of arrival. Or so I thought. But now I’m not sure. It’s ending up to be work, and a different type of work. More emotional and requiring even more inner reflection to survive. I’m sure I’ll make it, but man the slap in the face and rough start make me scowl at 30 so far.
Maybe in Ocotber, when I’m moments away from being married, I’ll have a different outlook
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