It’s my birthday in a few days. I’m entering the last year of my thirties.
That doesn’t bother me. Just like turning thirty didn’t bother me. Next year won’t find me weeping and rending my garments as I enter a new decade.
But something is nagging me. Something pinches at the back of my mind. Not something that makes me want to recapture my youth or run out and by a sports car (if I could afford a sports car, I’d already have one), but something that makes me question what I want the next decade to bring.
The age-old question: what do I want to do with my life?
An old friend is back in my life. A dear old friend who makes me remember a time when I threw myself into new projects, new passions, when the world was fresh and new. A great road stretched out in front of me and I couldn’t wait to travel it.
Now I’m on that road. It’s had its twist and turns, its moments of brilliant sunshine and raging storm. I still see it stretching out in front of me, but that nagging feeling at the back of my mind makes me question if I want to stay on it. Or is there, somewhere, another path to choose? Presently shrouded in mist, hidden behind a bend, but out there somewhere.
If my great-grandmother is anything to go by, I am nowhere near halfway through my life. So my question to myself these days is: is this still the life I want? Where is the next bend in my road?
I feel as though something is out there. Something big. And right now I’m terribly impatient. Perhaps even a little scared.