The Big 3-0.

So, I figured it would be apt to use my 30th post to ponder the impending 30th year of my life. Now, I am aware that my actual 30th birthday is not for a year and a half, but technically the day I turn 29 starts my 30th year of life. And once again, I acknowledge even that is not for another 5 and a half months. However, these time spans really mean nothing these days. I mean, a year and a half may as well be a blink of an eye. It is hard to believe a year and a half ago I left Berkeley. My time in New York seems to have been simply a blur. How does the time get past us and what do we have to show for it? Anyway, the bottom line is, putting aside any objections then from the reader, I will take it as an assumption that my 30th year is in fact impending.

Now, obviously many of my friends are 30, or at least closer than I am to being there, so I do not want anyone to think I consider it a bad thing. It is really I suppose no different from any other age, simply a marker for how long you have existed on the planet. Still, I cannot help but feel it is like crossing some threshold into actual adulthood. I have never really taken the time at any point in my life to consider where I would be at 30. The trajectory of my career started back when I was 18 in many ways, and as far as many things go, I have simply been riding the momentum of that wave for as long as I can remember. So, to look up and realize that most of my 20's has passed is a bit unnerving.

I suppose many people by 30 are settled into their communities, jobs, families, homes or all of the above. In all honesty, I am none of the above. Technically I am still an apprentice at my job, I will not be settling into any permanent residence or city for at least another 2 years and my family situation is of course rather complicated. On the other hand I have done some interesting work, eaten some great food, spent time in some amazing cities and learned at least a tiny bit of many languages. There is something comforting in the flux of it all really. Not that it is a bad thing, but if you live only one place and work at only one job even in your relative youth, it is easy to get into a rut, and hence to become rigid and sedimentary in your activities, ideas and emotions. I think without challenging yourself constantly, it is easy to become intellectually, socially and emotionally complacent.

True, there is comfort and value in the routine as well. I certainly grow weary of the constant moves, changes and disruptions. I miss old friends and lost comforts. The work, despite how much I like my job, never seems to happen fast enough to be worth all the effort. However, everywhere I go I find new friendships, new pieces of myself and the world, plus a good recipe or two. And through those experiences, despite the distances, time lapses and odds, the memory and appreciation of my old relationships somehow seem to mature and deepen, making them sustainable and more meaningful. Searching for friendship, family and common ground the world over makes you really appreciate those times you have experienced it.

I guess the short answer is that though I see 30 looming quite close on the horizon, I am pretty happy with where these last 2.85 decades have brought me. True, sometimes I feel like I have a paltry body of work to show for my time here on this earth, but hopefully I will get a few papers out this year and finally feel like I am accomplishing things professionally. Plus, in many ways I have always felt the value of an individual can be ascertained by the company they keep. Well, even though I am particularly lonely right now, I have the pleasure of knowing and loving some pretty amazing people of all ages and from all over the world. Any small positive impact I could have had on their lives has made my time here well worth the effort. Honestly, I have no doubts the things I want from life will come to me eventually, and certainly easier and with more grace in the next decade than they would have in this one. Perhaps maturity really boils down to patience, tolerance and appreciation for the fact that though for the most part your life is as the man says "a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing," if you are lucky, once in a while you meet someone who thinks it sounds like poetry and music.