Crossing another border
I am in my twenties.
By the time anyone reads that, it will most likely not be true anymore. I think, according to the Popular Wisdom conveyed through our modern sages, like episodes of Friends, that I am supposed to be freaking out right now about getting older. Old.
After all, I am about to turn 30, I have no job, nor any visible path to one, no home…shit, I don’t even have a cell phone. And that is just the way I like it. (Well, for the cell phone at least, I am well and truly primed to start working again…)
I am ready to wrap up this decade. When I think back to who I was when I was 20, and the things that have happened since, I feel a tremendous amount of gratitude for all the people who were part of my life. I am satisfied with my twenties, time to wrap them up and start a new project.
The last decade has been good to me, on the inside and the outside. On the outside, it started with a sense that the politics in my country were accelerating down the drain, greased by greed, deception, and apathy. I felt a heavy pull towards losing all respect for my countrymen, and it was not a good feeling.
Now, while still not convinced my countrymen are all smart enough to come in out of the rain, I have seen something happen that maybe only the dreamers thought possible back 10 years ago. (Oh look, Hollywood has cast a black president, how cool would that be? Maybe someday…) And best of all, we don’t even notice he’s black anymore! I am proud of that. Albeit not planning on visiting Alabama any time soon. I like my optimism, thank you very much.
Those ten years have been good to me on the inside too. I have known good times, good friends, love, laughter, and sadness and pain to round out the form. I spent the first half ensconced in Santa Cruz, barely leaving the zip code, and it was good living. I spent the last third moving among thirty-something countries on three continents and that was good too. And just as with the politics, at the outset that transition seemed unimaginable.
And best of all, my thirties are shaping up to be fanfuckingtastic too.
Halfway into my first day of my thirties my amazing girlfriend Katrien will be joining me in Madrid where we will somehow survive the heat and enjoy vegetarian food from our favorite little restaurant tucked away on that one street I am pretty sure I still know how to find. And three days into my thirties we will get on a plane to Qatar, and four days in we will get on another plane to South Africa. From there it is a month of presumable amazingness in Africa, with a special glow leant to it by all of those who so generously supported out fundraising efforts. Thank you!!!
That glow of generosity is warming me as I move from my twenties to my thirties.
The first thing I will accomplish in my thirties will be painting orphanage walls in Pretoria, made possible by the contributions of various awesome people, from old friends I’ve had since I was 13 to new ones I haven’t even met yet. Friends one and all! And my twenties and thirties are richer because of you!
So I will try to cross this border of years with an appropriate mindset. One of openness to the world, gratitude to my fellow humans, and optimism for our future.
Well shit, look at that, I’m in my thirties. Cool.