Here's a really cool group e-mail I got a few days ago from my friend Lisa. I never considered turning 30 a big deal, but I thought Lisa has some pretty insightful things to say here. And it reminded me how fortunate I am to have journalists as friends...
The big Three-Oh (No!)
....OR
Not going gently into the good night, czech style
This morning, March 26, I officially stopped clinging to the phrase “young adult;” ceased to be in that prized 18-29 demographic that gets all the cool test marketing gigs; and morphed into someone shifty, according to those even older folks who were alive in the 60s. (weren’t they the ones who said you should never trust anyone over 30?!)
So I’ve officially finished the first day of my fourth decade. Please send over-the-hill jokes, hair colorants and Depends undergarments. As well as the guide to how Early Bird specials work, and instructions on how to drive a mini-van. And DON'T remind me that at this age, Mozart only had five years of life left.
Actually, I haven’t really been fretting too much about this milestone, as it doesn’t feel that much different than 29. I certainly don’t *feel* as ancient as this age used to sound. Twenty-six, when you were officially closer to 30 than 20, smacked of much more calamity. Still, you just can’t escape the fact that no matter what, 30 comes with all this weird emotional baggage, no matter who you are, what you’re doing and what kind of lifestyle you’ve chosen. You’re supposed to have some things figured out by 30. I think we all do, to an extent, but you can’t help but wonder if it’s the right things…
I’ve decided all you can do is keep your sense of humor. A wonderful cousin who also recently turned 30 reminded me of this.
Was it brutal? I asked Jennifer of her passage to the no-longer-young side. “Puhleeze,” she says. “It’s so silly how people go around worrying about how old they are. Or saying they’re younger than they are. I go around saying I’m older than I am. I mean, for a 30-year-old, I look alright, but for a 37-year-old, I look hot!” (For the record, Jennifer looks pretty fabulous for a 30-year-old, too.)
Anyway, I do believe she’s right. It’s all how you choose to frame it. They say the 30s are supposed to be the decade when you come into your own. When you’ve established yourself; gone thru some trial and error to find your path, or at least a decent one. You’re supposed to have exchanged idealism for a more realistic picture of how the world works, and what you can accomplish in it. You’re finally considered wise enough to serve in Congress, and are even a desirable candidate to lead services on Jewish high holidays. (!) Apparently, one of the criteria in Jewish doctrine is to seek someone over 30, “because a 30-year-old has been humbled and broken-hearted, and can thus sincerely ‘pray from the heart.’"
Though I still like to believe I could do anything I wanted if I set my mind to it, it is true that, after my jading 20s (ha!), I’ve come to accept that some childhood dreams will probably never come to pass. They include: becoming president of the United States (yes, I realize this was a long shot, and that these few years out of the country has drastically torpedoed my chances!); dancing as a ballerina; and making an appearance on the Johnny Carson show as the San Diego Zoo's Wild Animal Ambassador (this one is actually in writing from the sixth grade!) I also probably will never figure out how to repopulate the wilds of China with panda bears, nor will I ever pull together that penguin pool for the backyard…(considering I’ve not yet *had* my own backyard…)
Speaking of backyards, there's these, I don't know, THINGS the world tells you you should be doing by now. Things like owning a single piece of furniture besides the papasan chair I recently sold; ascending some ladder some place; buying a house with the money from the ladder; and meeting a nice young man who will fix things in the house. (among other things...) And some nights, when I lose touch with my gut and my perspective -- like last night when I stayed up thinking about all this till 4 am -- I start to wonder if I’m off track.
But I was reminded by a wonderful friend in Prague today, that though life is short, it is also long, and there is plenty of time for such things if those of us exploring other options decide we *do* want to give them a try. And that we will appreciate them that much more -- they will be richer and sweeter -- for having taken this time to explore, seek adventures, and see what life looks like OFF the merry-go-round for a moment. Or maybe in building a whole different type of merry-go-round.
And anyway, there are still PLENTY dreams to tackle to in the next 30 years. I’m putting “weaseling my way into being the token white girl in a gospel choir” at the top of the list. I look forward to checking in with you at 60.
And being like a fine bottle of wine.
G’nite,
Lisa
