This morning, I woke up to a conversation on the radio discussing the best year of your life – apparently some study determined that age would be 33. My thought? Excellent! I’m not even there yet!
I listened for a few minutes (good excuse to stay cuddled up in my blankets, yes?), and the conversation continued to explain that up until this point – and I’m guessing beyond, if you’d let it – your life just continues to get better.
Now, I’ll be the first one to say that I feel like I go through a bit of a metamorphosis every few years. At 31, I don’t feel that I’m the same person I was at 28, and at 28, I wasn’t the same person I was at 25, and at 25, I wasn’t the same person I was at 22 – and God knows I wasn’t the person I was at 18 when I was 22 (thank goodness!). I do feel that I’ve finally gotten to the point where, while I may not totally have it all figured out, I at least know what I want – and a lot of the pieces have fallen into place. I’m fortunate to say that I have a successful “real” career, a “play” side-job that I absolutely love, and I have made some great friends throughout my life. Yes, there is that one elusive piece still missing – someone to share my life with – but I’m continuing to have great faith that, as Kim (one of my very closest friends) always tells me, “he’s just not ready yet.”
So here’s to getting older! I think if nothing else, age has helped me become a little wiser, a little calmer (just ask my mom … or my high school friends), and a little more flexible. No, life is never going to be perfect. But I like to think that although I’m still not exactly where I want to be, I’m on my way.