It's a few hours early where I am ... but since it's a few hours later in some other part of the world, it seems just as appropriate to type this post now than some time tomorrow: I'm 30.
Get comfortable sports fans ... this one's gonna be long.
Needless to say, the question that people have already asked is the one that I've been thinking about the most. How do I feel? What does turning 30 mean to me? The answer has changed over the last few weeks, and taken turns that I didn't really expect.
My first response was a glib response, to absolutely nobody's surprise that knows me even in the slightest. "I'm not happy about the thought of turning 30," I told people, "but I can't wait for 29 to be over, so it's got to be an improvement." Or some variation of that.
I'd be playing into a typical Leo stereotype if I said something like "the last year has been the worst year of my life." I don't know how I would define that, or how anybody would for that matter. It's a subjective statement with absolutely no way to really evaluate and ultimately means nothing. I can say more correctly that some of the lowest times that I can remember occurred in the last year. Some of the darkest times, the worst feelings, the saddest experiences. Is it really fair to call that "the worst year of my life?" I don't know. Because I've also grown out of those times, overcome those feelings, and learned from those experiences. Who am I to say that I would be better off if I wiped this year from existence?
And what about the people around me? If the last twelve months didn't exist, would I be as open and trusting with my friends? My family? The people who mean the most to me? Would I be writing a blog that semi-openly discusses major events in my life and how I feel about them? (Hint: not a chance in hell) In opening up to people I experienced an influx of love and support that I always kind of craved, but never really enabled. "I'm fine." "Don't worry about me." "It's cool." It's closed. It's impersonal. It's off-putting.
And ultimately it's lonely.
I can't imagine feeling worse than I did at times over the last year, but thinking about going through everything alone is quite frankly a terrifying thought. There were times when I couldn't leave the house ... people come and got me. There were times when I didn't know how to express what I was feeling ... people sat, and listened, and empathized. There were times when I wondered if the pain that I had inflicted, simply by living, had hurt others so badly that neither I nor they could ever be repaired ... people convinced me that was not true. And they were right.
So then, my initial and pithy remark about 30 seems inappropriate. That's why I haven't been saying it much over the last few days.
Interacting with people here in Vienna, going out with friends and strangers, of all ages and backgrounds, its helped to shift my perspective on many things. And one of those things is - surprise - turning 30.
I feel fortunate that I have accomplished so much to date; but that feeling is informed by the knowledge that I've worked my ass off to achieve those things. I feel like I have a better understanding of myself. I used to have a certain attitude, a swagger, back in college, because I was somewhere between "above average" and "the best ever" at a large range of things ... but that feeling's been gone for a while, because the second part of that sentence just isn't true anymore. Thinking about turning 30, I'm of two minds: because I want that feeling back, but I'm also less concerned about getting that feeling back.
Confused? We'll make jackets.
For a long time, I've unintentionally bought into that classic Leo stereotype about caring disproportionately what others think of me. I believe that is what led me to always project the strong, brooding, silent leader type. Well, I do think of myself as a leader, and if I type that I don't say that to be selfish it's not because I don't want you to think of me badly; it's because that's what I feel to be true. There, in that sentence, is the dichotomy of what I'm writing about: I want to get to a different place than when I was in college. I want the feeling of knowing where I stand and what my abilities and strengths are, but I'm less concerned what people think about me in the process.
Coming to Vienna has been such a blessing: the right opportunity at the right time, and the right amount of work on the front end to yield such a fruitful experience throughout. I wrote before I left something to the effect of "if I can manage this by myself, it will be such a positive experience that proves 'I've still got it; I can still do great things,' and what a boost for my confidence that will be." Well, I'm not even half way through my time in Europe, and that sentiment is being proven true. Only, instead of a feeling of accomplishment at "getting through this by myself," its a feeling of calm pride in getting back to myself. I'm not perfect (my family will be shocked at the admission). But I know the kind of man I am. And I'm less interested in changing the kind of man I am to appease others.
And that's what turning 30 symbolizes to me.
The funny thing is, there's nothing magical about 30. It isn't some elixir that causes feelings of deep introspection and soul searching. I'll be honest with you, readers ... it's more of a convenience for me than anything. It's a day that just so happens to occur while I'm on this journey, and just so happens to coincide with the feelings I'm experiencing above. A happy coincidence.
Much like Vienna. Much like many of the opportunities I've tried my hardest to take advantage of, lately.
I think that those opportunities exist and are more frequent than we tend to believe, as a general statement. "Luck is when preparation meets opportunity" some may say, and that's part of it. Being true to yourself, despite what others think, is a key component, however, because an opportunity for one may be a detriment to another.
I'm 30. I don't feel wiser, or slower, or more pain in my knees, or more dissatisfaction with the world, or a greater inclination to take advantage of the Early Bird Special. I feel more content knowing that I'm working to get back to me. 30 is a milestone but it's a milestone along part of a greater journey.
and I can't wait to explore what's around the first bend.
