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Confessional
Mar. 2nd, 2014 01:30 amI'm taking up the spare seat in the confessional box and hiding that beaten old copy of the Bible under the threadbare cushion. I'm not a religious person but there is something that I have been hiding. I thought I could neatly fold it up, seal it in an envelope and place it in a box which would then be buried twenty feet underground in an impenetrable safe with no lock or key. Unfortunately the secret is already out to some people and I fear it will only be a matter of time before everyone else is made aware of this piece of sensitive information.
Okay, so here goes...
Ready?
Okay...
I am turning thirty in a few months.
There I said it.
Thirty.
The number three followed by a perfectly circular zero.
Thirty.
One big flashing number painted in red and projected in to the sky like the Gotham's bat-signal. I might as well get used to saying it.
The 'getting older' part is not the issue. I have somewhat accepted the ageing process despite the seemingly increasing cons of spending more time on this planet. I guess the issue is this; I expected to be at a position in my life where things were 'in place'. I would have made a career breakthrough or at least be on the beginning rungs of a some form of successful profession. I would have a house and children... Actually thinking back, I may have also expected to be married to a beautiful wife too... Evidently things change.
Thirty was meant to be the secure age. The age when things made sense and life was would start to bear fruit. The truth is, it never felt more terrifying and more confusing. It seemed to make more sense ten years ago. Maybe I should have had a plan? Maybe I should have made more changes? As more and more of my peers settle into marriages and begin picking out colours to paint their children's bedrooms whilst accepting employment promotions and hosting barbecues in their perfectly preened back gardens in the summer months, I guess I need to ask myself the question: is this the life I wanted?
We all have different expectations and nothing is ever permanently formed in stone. People change. Events happen. Lessons are taught. Realistically, it would be impractical to ascertain every goal by a particular age. Or maybe it is completely practical, maybe the goals have to be better formed? Whatever the answer, there is no changing the inevitable journey of getting older. Wrinkles will form. Weight will cling to the bone. Hair will be peppered with white and silver.
Inevitable.
Why resist?
I am just going to have clench my teeth, I will grin and bear it. I am good at doing that. There is still time yet. Right? I have to learn not to subject myself to this notion. All things happen in time. It takes longer for others. Every day is a new journey. See... I am already reeling off the generic, positive affirmations that become more prevalent with age. It is already happening.
Okay, breathe...
It's just a number. It doesn't mean anything. It's just another year like all the rest.
Right?
Okay, so here goes...
Ready?
Okay...
I am turning thirty in a few months.
There I said it.
Thirty.
The number three followed by a perfectly circular zero.
Thirty.
One big flashing number painted in red and projected in to the sky like the Gotham's bat-signal. I might as well get used to saying it.
The 'getting older' part is not the issue. I have somewhat accepted the ageing process despite the seemingly increasing cons of spending more time on this planet. I guess the issue is this; I expected to be at a position in my life where things were 'in place'. I would have made a career breakthrough or at least be on the beginning rungs of a some form of successful profession. I would have a house and children... Actually thinking back, I may have also expected to be married to a beautiful wife too... Evidently things change.
Thirty was meant to be the secure age. The age when things made sense and life was would start to bear fruit. The truth is, it never felt more terrifying and more confusing. It seemed to make more sense ten years ago. Maybe I should have had a plan? Maybe I should have made more changes? As more and more of my peers settle into marriages and begin picking out colours to paint their children's bedrooms whilst accepting employment promotions and hosting barbecues in their perfectly preened back gardens in the summer months, I guess I need to ask myself the question: is this the life I wanted?
We all have different expectations and nothing is ever permanently formed in stone. People change. Events happen. Lessons are taught. Realistically, it would be impractical to ascertain every goal by a particular age. Or maybe it is completely practical, maybe the goals have to be better formed? Whatever the answer, there is no changing the inevitable journey of getting older. Wrinkles will form. Weight will cling to the bone. Hair will be peppered with white and silver.
Inevitable.
Why resist?
I am just going to have clench my teeth, I will grin and bear it. I am good at doing that. There is still time yet. Right? I have to learn not to subject myself to this notion. All things happen in time. It takes longer for others. Every day is a new journey. See... I am already reeling off the generic, positive affirmations that become more prevalent with age. It is already happening.
Okay, breathe...
It's just a number. It doesn't mean anything. It's just another year like all the rest.
Right?
