Twenty-nine and Not Holding

I turned twenty-nine yesterday. It was a great day. I spent it with family and friends, doing some of my favorite things: eating, laughing, dancing, having people into my home, and petting loveable dogs. The people who know me best gave me special cards, notes, and gifts that let me know they were thinking of me. I couldn’t have asked for more.

I’ve joked over the past few weeks that this is my “last birthday,” the end of my twenties, that I stop getting older right now. Some people are all-too-ready to bid their twenties “good riddance.” Some get depressed about turning the big 3-0. I don’t fit into either of those categories, though. I’ve joked, but when it comes down to it, I may have some regrets that I didn’t do more during the past ten years, but more than anything, I feel like I’m just hitting my prime. Something has shifted within the past year even, and I feel more… like me. This is the person I want to be⎯less self-conscious, moody, and driven by my emotions. More confident, balanced, and aware of myself. I know myself better now than I ever have, and while there’s still so much I want to do and be better at, I’m thankful that God has used my twenties to get me to this place.

An old pastor of mine used to loosely categorize the decades of life. Your twenties are for getting to know yourself better and figuring out how you tick. Your thirties are when you start applying that knowledge to all the areas of your life: relationships, job, etc. Your forties are when you’re cooking along, getting things lined up for your ultimate life’s work. Then, contrary to what culture would have us think, in your fifties you’re finally in the zone, living your destiny, and leaving your mark.

Now, I know this is one man’s interpretation and not the hard and fast rule by any means, but that breakdown of ages has always comforted me whenever I start to get anxious about my accomplishments or lack thereof. Sure, some people start their own world-changing company/ministry, marry the love of their life, buy their dream home, and have 2.3 kids all in their twenties. How they survive all that, I don’t know. I’ve always been one of the slow and steady ones. I might take longer to get to the destination, but I learn a lot along the way and enjoy the scenery. God knows that about me, which is why I think He’s given me just the right amount of change and stretching experiences over the past ten years.

But as the cliché goes, “we’ve only just begun.” With some knowledge and life lessons under my belt, I’m ready to take on the next decade of my life. Specifically, I’m ready to leave behind the passive “everyone owes me” immaturity of the twenties and go out and grab life by the horns. I know what I like, I know what I want, and I’m finally in a place physically, emotionally, spiritually, and financially to go after it. No more circling my life in a holding pattern, complaining about what isn’t happening. No more putting off my passions until “X” comes along.

I’ve got big plans for twenty-nine. I’m looking into adopting a dog (a greyhound specifically). I’m saving up to buy a good camera to get back into making art. I’m checking out books from the library. I want to take a vacation this year, and spend more quality time with my family and friends, supporting them in their passions. I look forward to projects around my house and volunteering in my community. To making new friends. To less passive waiting and more active doing. But not just doing for the sake of keeping busy or following the crowd. Doing for the sake of honoring each day and the Creator by squeezing the most out of every hour.

I love the George Bernard Shaw quote that inspired the name of my blog (which I found seven years ago) because it challenges me to be the kind of person who doesn’t wait around for life to happen to them. But sometimes the journey to becoming that person takes years. And I’m sure it’s a continual process. I think I hope it is. I hope that this is the start of a steady stream that will continue to grow until it is a mighty rushing river, carving out a path that leaves a permanent mark and that others can follow.

And I hope that this year of your life finds you inspired to carve out your own path, full of believing in your passions and making as many of them as you can come true.