Skip Counting

Today is my 30th birthday.  Some ask if I feel old.  Some feel compelled to remind me that I am in fact still very young.  Apparently, 30 is the new 25.  But the one thought that keeps popping into my head:

Where did the last decade go?

In the last ten years I

• married my best friend
• moved six times
• completed University
• bought my first car
• bought my first house
• delivered three beautiful babies, and savoured each moment of growth and discovery
• spent two years teaching early elementary
• wrote my first novel
• published several short stories
• made new friends
• cherished the friends still walking alongside me
• read hundreds of books
• worked hard to grow spiritually
• renovated a bedroom
• learned never to renovate another bedroom
• fell in love with Arizona
• developed a greater appreciation for road trips
• overcame my abhorrence for 'spicy' foods and learned to appreciate the exquisite sensory experience that is salsa
• decided with final surety that under no circumstances will I ever skydive.

This list seems exhaustive.  In fact, just reading over it, I feel in a degree the weight of the years.  And yet...

I don't really feel old.  When I was 20, I thought I was old.  Now, as the years pick up speed, I realize how young I truly am.  There are times when I feel infinitely flawed.  There are times I am sure I will never overcome my own faulty dispositions.  There are times I feel I will always fall short of the finish line.

But the last ten years are more than just points on a bullet list.  Those points must be interwoven with the natural insecurities and uncertainties of youth, but knitted together with the love, the joy, the sorrow, the discoveries, the unknown.  Life is more than a list of accomplishments.  And 30 is just a number.

So do I feel old?  I creak more, tire quicker, and court forgetfulness.  I'm certainly not 20.  But I also don't feel old.

In fact, in many ways, I feel that life is still just getting going. 

So here's to the next 10 years...