Today, I stand at the threshold of my 34th year, my soul clothed in the many vibrant hues of my lived experiences. A human mélange of technicolour wisdom, I sparkle amidst life’s uncertainties like an assortment of resplendent gemstones scattered across a velvety night sky.
Every age holds its own beauty and promise, and I remember the innocence of my 19th summer. I recall asking an the older brother of a friend, caught in the spell of youthful curiosity, “What does it feel like to be in your mid-30s?” His eyes held a far-off glint as he replied, “When I was your age, I too used to think life stops at 30.” It was a concept that puzzled me then, a jigsaw piece that failed to fit into my vision of life.
Back in those days, I perceived age 30 as a monochrome barrier, the end of all the youthful vibrancy and the commencement of a dull, uniform grey. But today, as I stand tall and proud in my 34th year, I realize how off the mark I was. His words, once cryptic, now resonate within me like a timeless symphony. Life didn’t stop at 30; instead, it blossomed into a full-fledged, colourful, enthralling panorama.
Aging didn’t shrink my world; it expanded it, revealing paths and perspectives to the 34th year of my existence, I am reminded of vibrant stones that set off all shades of the rainbow. The luminescent bits of brilliance stand as a testament to the mosaic of experiences that I have collected over the years. Each stone a memory, a lesson learned, an accomplishment, or a nugget of wisdom. They are as diverse and different as the hues they throw when the light hits them just right.
I cast my mind back to that time today, a time when I was 19, a time when 34 seemed so distant, so foreign, almost unreachable. I inquired about the enigma of life in one’s mid-thirties. Yet an understanding smile, he assured me, “you’ll see when you’re my age, life does not stop, it accelerates, it blossoms, it comes into its own.” A laugh. A shrug. I didn’t truly comprehend the depth of his words back then.
For me, life was an open book, an endless road with countless opportunities waiting to be explored. Yet, here I am today, standing at the precipice of my 34th year, looking back at the winding road that has led me here, and I am filled with gratitude and a profound sense of peace.
I wish I could tell him, should he remember our conversation, that he was absolutely right. Life has not stopped; it has spiraled outwards, much like the cosmos, bringing me to places I could never have dreamed of, teaching me lessons I never knew I needed to learn, and illuminating my world with the vibrant colors of experience.
Yes, life tried to bury my soul with hardships and sorrow, yet, like a seed planted deep within the earth, I only sprouted stronger and more resilient. The happier I became. I have been presented with the harsh realities of the world, its cruelty, and its prejudice, yet each instance only further opened my heart, allowing me to love deeper and wider.
With every passing year, I did not become older; I became wiser. Each additional candle on my birthday cake represented not a year closer to the end, but another chapter of wisdom added to the book of my life. And the risks? Oh, the risks! With each leap into the unknown, I found courage in the freefall, bravery in the face of uncertainty.
But perhaps the most beautiful gift age has bestowed upon me is the constant reminder of my vibrant nature. As I have continued to explore life, to chase dreams and seek answers, I have found that like those rainbow stones, I have only become more vibrant. The colours of my character, my spirit, my soul, have become more pronounced, more radiant, painting a spectacular spectacle over the canvas of my existence.
So, as I blow out the candles today, I do not lament the passing of my youth – and mourn the fleeting nature of my younger years. Instead, I celebrate the vibrant stone that I have become and revel in the brilliant gem I’ve evolved into – radiating all the hues of the rainbow, casting a glow on the path that awaits me, and echoing the voyage that has delivered me to this point. After all, aging isn’t about the diminishing of our inner light; it is the process through which this light is honed and shaped, casting prismatic refractions like a finely cut diamond.