In November I turn 30. No big deal. Actually it does freak me out a little. Not that 30 is old (30 isn’t really “old” at all), but it is the first mile-marker to signify the reality that ”this train don’t stop”. Meaning nothing on this planet is permanent. At least that is what it’s been for me and it’s caused quite a bit of commotion amongst many of my internal conversations this year.
In the midst of these conversations I’ve realized something: I don’t really want to be young again. I was going to write a blog about it, but this is so much better.