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I turned thirty four this month. Usually this is a difficult time of the year for me as I grapple with my own mortality, but I think I’m finally aging into routine and with routine comes a kind of temporal disengagement. I’m working towards my goals, I’m getting a lot of writing done, I’ve been working out and losing weight. I’m unshakable, baby.

The passage of time gives its own boon, that of reflection and lessons learned. I guess if I had to speak to a younger me heading into my thirties, I’d say something like “Don’t worry too much. The big problems you have now will start to go away, and you become more yourself. Nothing is ever as bad as you think.” Now I am matriculating into my mid-thirties. I’m getting better at the little parts of life, the day to day, chop wood and carry water kind of stuff. Do I still mourn my youth? A little bit. But I’m finally starting to look forward to the future, too.