So, I turned 30 recently.
I do have a way to explain my feelings on this, I think. Yet again, video games are my analogy of choice for explaining how the world works. Oh, shut up, you knew what you were getting into when you started reading this.
If life were like videogames1, then growth is measured by leveling up when a player has earned enough experience points to acquire a new level in a skill or skills, often accompanied by the ability to wield new weaponry, access new places, or begin new assignments.
So let's say I just turned Level 30. Have I been granted anything new?
- Wield New Weaponry - Do I have a weapon? If you count my guitar as an "axe", then there's no finding out what I can wield until I can get my hands on a new guitar, but I honestly don't feel like getting another guitar; the guitars I already own have been more than sufficient. Hm, but what about a bass guitar? Interesting.
- Access New Places - I now live in and have access to NorCal.
- Begin New Assignments - I relocated for a job. It's a new assignment by its very nature.
And come to think of it, 30 is gaining steam much differently than that of 29. 28 and 29 saw some dark days. 29 saw me the poorest I'd ever been, facing some of the most challenging professional decisions I'd ever made. It was a year that tested my retention of optimism. I came out of those years able to say, "As a full time independent contractor, I've been dragged through the dirt and raked over hot coals. I have seen some shit. There is nothing you can do to hurt me."
I repeatedly told the world to "bring it on." I got what I wanted. I got kicked to the curb, got kicked while I was down, got kicked harder than something that kicks really hard.
I lived. And the reward? New job, new city, new life.
Fancy that. This really was like a video game.
I guess that means if I'm alive, I gotta keep moving.
After all, this game isn't going to beat itself.
- Which poses a problem in the way of art imitating life imitating art, but that's another conversation