The number 29 seems so alien to me. Everyone keeps joking that 30 is looming. 30 isn’t very old though really (unless you’re 16). Turning 28 was similarly alien, but not like 29.
Although turning 28 did make me realize 40 was only 12 (now 11) years away … which for whatever reason does seem old to me … probably just because I remember being a near-teenager and my mother turning 40. Moms are 40.
And I see I’m not the only one comtemplating this and hearing the oh-so-rediculous negative banter about getting old.
Being almost 29 seems like a countdown actually. As in, all the things I said I need to have straightened out, figured out, checked off before I’m 30 and I only have 1 year and six days left to do it.
Maybe it’s good though. I work better under deadlines, you know?
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what I am doing and what I actually want to do. And it’s so screaming right in my face that these are not the same things right now.
The past year has been one of change … well, really, small steps towards change that I wish … WISH … I had been smart, brave, ballsy enough to have done when I first thought of changing anything before. Sometimes years before.
And now I’m walking on this path that’s not the path I need it to be yet. Not the wrong path … but more like the start of a path. Like when you want to build a pretty stone path in your garden. You start by marking it off and digging it down and it takes a lot of time and effort just to get this far.
But I think so many people (myself included) could easily get to this point, having a dirt path, and just stop. It’s so easy, you know?
Just stopping and using the same path over and over again. And the path gets so comfortable and worn and friendly, changing it then becomes the challenge.
But I really want the stone path, no matter how much I have to dig in the dirt and carry the stones. I don’t want to turn 30 knowing I’ve just been walking on the dirt path when I could have had the stone.
Let the countdown begin …