Happiness and getting older
I’m trying to really figure out what makes me happy.
I think I’m getting closer to knowing, but at the same time, the whole process is a bunch of trial and error, and it’s forced me to re-examine things that I thought I knew about myself. I’ve come to a few realizations: some things that I used to enjoy were just comforting because of their familiarity, and there were some things I was actually afraid of liking. I’m not going to go into too much personal detail here, but I know more that my preference to get through life as unscathed as possible was holding me from a lot of things.
The gulf between 20 and 30 narrows and widens depending on the day. I remember ten years ago I was shocked that I was already an adult when I didn’t feel like one. Sometimes I don’t feel a whole lot older and do a double take when I realize that some memory was already many years ago. In a way I still feel like I haven’t really gotten a start on life, just staying in different holding patterns for a few years at a time. But then I realize how many of my friends are well into careers, relationships and even parenthood. One of my good friends is actually running for political office. Those are moments when I realize time is finite, and I have to stop being so passive and resigned to my inertia.
The longer I avoid making difficult decisions and forcing myself into action, the more years I lose that could have been spent happy, fulfilled and heading towards something.