I remember I was hanging out at my friend’s house when he asked me how do I feel about turning 30 soon. He just turned 26 several months ago and he’s hating it so far. To be honest, I probably was feeling the same way, too, four years ago. However, right now, if I have to be honest with you, I cannot wait to be older — be it 30 or 40, for that matter.
I mean, of course, it’s terrifying. You’re closer to the end end, but on the other hand, I have this strange a hunch that I never felt before when I was younger; something like a sense of liberation. No, not liberation from life because we are marching towards death, but the feeling of freedom from whatever ugly feelings we felt when we were 23, or 26.
I imagine, despite the ageing elements where we’d choose staying in over cracking our backs dancing till dawn, we would give so much less shit because whatever the reasons are. Perhaps we’ve felt more, seen so much—but yet again still so little, from all the failures, joys, and griefs we’ve had along the way. And now that we’re older, everything else feels somewhat temporary or at least, smaller; in a good way.
An example that came to mind was something I realised just a little over a couple months ago. For years, I have heard the phrase “we’re just a speck of dust in this vast universe” got thrown around but I never fully understood what it means. Perhaps on the surface yes, I understood the grandeur nihilism aspect of it, but never to the whole extent of what it embodies.
I understood the phrase better when I found myself sitting down by the beach in Bali, at the quiet hours just before sundown after what felt like a decade of mindlessness absence. I was just staring at the ocean, how the waves builds up and clash onto the shore, and the sun that slowly disappearing from the horizon and everything turned into dark hue. That was when it hit me. We’re just a speck of dust floating in space! We’re so small, in the best possible ways, amongst this terrifyingly beautiful nature right in front of us. My worries about everything worldly at that moment shifted into something much less than a minuscule.
So, that’s how I’d imagine turning 30, 40, and so on would feel like — a series of finding more profound meanings in the smallest, most ordinary things in front of you. At least, that’s what I hope for.
But anyway, I’m going to close with a letter that I found when cleaning up my Chrome’s bookmark. Hunter S. Thompson once wrote a letter to his friend about the purpose of life. The gist of it says every man is a sum of reaction to their experience. Well, this is mine. Based on whatever experiences I’ve gone through and my reactions toward them. It might quite possibly be different than yours but that’s ok. We’re ok. It’s going to be ok.
Goodnight. ‘Till next time.
Yours truly, x.
