I wrote the following few paragraphs (in Italics) a while back. I never published them and I am glad I did not. I realize now I was a bit ahead of myself and that what I wrote reflects less of me now than it ever did. Let’s just say my perceptions have swayed towards a different path. That said, I leave you with a flavor of these paths, as many of you have bared witness of both. I share them with you on the day my parents and the Lebanese authorities claim I was born. Let’s face it, who can really tell when he or she were born, we were all told a date and it stuck!
“In a few months I will be 29!Now, to the un-keen eye, 29 is not a specially impressive number. It is no “sweet” 16 or “driver’s license” 18, or “all you can drink” 21. And it’s not one of the big O numbers either…
You never really think about it, but surly you know that one day you will turn 29, just like you turned 19, 10 years ago. And yet lately, I feel like I have been caught off guard, knocked out by a huge bat swung at the back of my skull, and mugged! Yes that’s right I feel mugged. My 20’s were stolen. I am not scared of being 30; it is not fear that I am feeling, seriously, it is not! It is more like a “OH MY GOD, I HAVE BEEN ROBBED!” kind of feeling. And just like a real victim, I am still swinging between denial and reality. Claiming that this can’t be happening to me, I wait for the candid camera guy to pop his head from around the corner to tell me “smile you are on candid camera and you are not 29 you are really 22. We are sorry we drugged you and made you think that you just missed the last 7 years of your life”
Off course you and I both know that the candid camera man will NOT pop his head or any other part of his body for that matter!
Now here is the catch, my life has not been half bad. I actually had a good job. I have a car, which needs a minor paint job, but a car nonetheless. I am healthy, in the sense that I should exercise and eat better, but don’t drop into the ER every 5 minutes. I also have a family that loves me. I own a mac, and one day will get an Iphone (yes these are measures of happiness nowadays don’t pretend to be shocked) and most nice things are within my financial reach. Then why does this morbid feeling of loss continue to clutch at my soul?” I go on to say that while I am thankful… “I just do not feel 29”, and that: “I want a DO OVER!”
Today, I start consuming the last year in my 20s and in doing so I mark the end of a decade. 10 years is a lot of time people! 8 months ago, I felt robbed out of my 20s, simply because I could not gather how they have passed. And, when I wanted to assess how they were spent, I benchmarked against the 20s of others (P.S. not a good idea, simply because you are who you are, and you are not them). But now it doesn’t seem that I did so bad. In fact I think I did well. A do over is still nice, but since they do not exist, let’s focus on what we have, shall we?
I, like many others, will continue to question how I have spent my years and sometimes will not like the answer, but at least I question, and every once in a while a few satisfactory answers surface. Today, I decide to write these answers down, save them for a rainy day if you like, and share 29 of them with you. In no particular order, they are as follows:
