The days in July are speeding by and with each day gone, I am one day closer to my birthday. 30.
30 years of life lived.
It doesn't seem like such a big number when I think about the elders in my life. My maternal grandmother passed away last October, lived to 100. I always loved to ask grandma about what she had seen in her lifetime - too many wars, the Titanic sinking, the invention of cars, the Great Depression, the Dodgers leaving Brooklyn, Man on the Moon, Civil Rights Movement (and even the Women's Movement), Computers, Internet - countless Presidents.
I was afraid of 30 not too long ago - a mere week or two ago. I felt suffocated by the number. I felt myself going down the route of 'what have I done' and then looked at others around my age and compared. Despite writing about how I embraced that I had taken a different path, I panicked again. But then within a few days my attitude shifted.
Slow down you're doing fine, you can't be everything you want to be before your time.
After my visit to Kristin and AJ in Boston, I journeyed out to the Berkshires to visit Cynthia and Auntie Eve. Even with the amount of outdoor activity and serenity that my hometown offers me, there is something far more tranquil about the Berkshires. Perhaps it is the population's way of thinking that allows me to have this inner calm that only seemed to be within me when I studied abroad in Australia.
My cousin Cynthia has always been someone whom I have greatly admired, for as long as I can recall, she has been an independent spirit. Cynthia likened herself to the 'black sheep' of the family due to her liberal thinking. I admire her for her strength (she had two brothers, both have passed away) in adverse times. I love how every time I have seen her, she is the exact same person - genuine, loving, accepting. Cynthia is as real as you can get - there's no bullshit with her.
On my first night in the Berkshires, Cynthia and I had some wine with dinner and talked about a little bit of everything. My birthday was one of the topics - 'eesk 30!' I think were the only words I managed. And my cousin (who I've now decided is another sister to me), simply smiled, took a sip of her pinot noir and looked at me, "No eesk's! 30 isn't so bad. My 30s were some of the best, if not the best years of my life. I was in the best shape of my life."
To hear that was more than uplifting for me; it was more than enlightening, it was more than refreshing - it was as if I had taken a plunge into the rocky waters and said, "bring it on!"
I'll more than likely have a few more moments of little earthquakes of fear. Such is life. I would like to think I have always realized that age is just a number; but only now has it truly sunk in. It's how you live in the moment, it's how you soak up the little things and how you continue to build your life with experiences, with love, with pain, with laughter. Open up your passport, but leave room for more stamps, for the best is yet to come....
