Notes on 30.
February 1, 2017
Aged 10 I had a vague sense that 30 was very grown up. 30 would know everything, it would have everything. There would be an important job, with urgent phone calls (because when you’re 30, you are important enough for people to need you urgently), a house, a car, a mortgage and babies. 30 would be lists on the fridge and a meticulously organised calendar (with no awkward scribbling out). I would be driven, together, sorted and in control.
Aged 20 I suppose that vague picture remained. I’d done more school, got good grades, was feeling fairly on schedule. The picture of 30 in my viewfinder hadn’t changed much, despite being zoomed in a little. I still had 10 whole years to get my head and life sorted out for good, right? No need to worry. 20 assured me that there would be easy answers for everything, I just had to find the right book, or find the right words to sum it up in.
As 30 ushers itself in and makes itself comfortable, my phone still only ever receives spam calls and my calendar is a mess. My fridge is in a cupboard, so I can’t put lists on it. I see nothing resembling my 10 year old visions. But I’m glad. I’ve noticed a subtle shift that must have passed quietly under my internal resistant-to-change radar. Some changes to what I value have been so long overdue, the epiphany now feels like common sense. Isn’t that so often the way? I think for a long time those changes were worried they would scare me away, so they each crept up slowly, gradually, gently. Bit by bit beginning to chip away at my sharp corners.
30 has begun to recognise the stubborn tone of entitlement that creeps into my voice as I build my life, my work and my space. It also realises that it’s a hard thing to fight. It’s ingrained. Into my psyche. Into my culture. Into my world. But 30 has a sense that this is an important fight. Life through the lens of our negative space – what we haven’t got, what we haven’t achieved, what we might have missed out on – is one that struggles for breath. It’s freeing, liberating, to enjoy the things we are lucky we do have. Small things. Big things. And to seek opportunities to do more than just take. To stop just adding bricks to my own little kingdom.
30 doesn’t feel how I thought 30 should feel. But it is calmer, a bit more comfortable in its skin. It’s aware that it has a place in a global picture. Small, yes, but significant. It has begun to put energy into looking outwards sometimes, when it isn’t too distracted looking inwards. It still needs those hard to reach corners knocking off.
So, bring on 30. It’s not so afraid of failure anymore, so here’s to investing in habits, not just to consume or copy, but to create, contribute and change.