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Staring 30 in the Bald Spot

I guess certain milestones in your life cause you to reflect more than others.  In too few hours, I will turn 30 years of age.  As I bid farewell to perceived youth, I find myself thinking more and more about the past.  I recently found myself remembering when I was 18.  My university years had just begun.  I was wise beyond my years.  My life plan was lay out before me and I had set 30 as a milestone age for myself.  I had goals to be realized and nothing was going to stand in my way.  I suppose it was inevitable that I would perform this status check on the brink of that milestone date.

When I was 30 years old, I was going to be earning $100,000 a year.  I now make less than half that amount.  I wasn’t sure in which American city I would be living, but I was going to own a lovely ranch house in a quite suburb.  I now share an apartment with two relative strangers in a busy barrio of Madrid, Spain.  My room is so small that it barley, and uncomfortably, holds the few possessions I have. 

I also had my dreams.  I dreamed that, by the time I was 30, I would have found the most comfortable way to watch television, drink beer and expel solid waste at the same time.  Though I still occasionally have that thought, my daydreams are now consumed by the thought of living in a beach house in the south of Spain and writing novels.  Of all my goals and dreams, I think the thing I was most sure would be true on my 30^th birthday was that I would have never truly fallen in love.  There was the thought that I might be married but the marriage would be more to take the next step in a relationship rather than a lifetime commitment brought on by passionate love.  I am now in love with a Spanish girl that lives in Dublin, Ireland.  She’s in love with me also, but we aren’t sure that we can really make our relationship work.  Adults, who can ever understand them?

So, as I sit here staring 30 in the bald spot, looking back on all of the things that I haven't accomplished in life, I can't help but smile at just how happy I am.  I have always been told that the successful people in life are the ones who set goals and don’t stop until they have achieved those goals.  I guess that makes me a failure.  Why is a measure of success achieving a goal I set for myself five or ten years ago?  If I had pursued my five and ten year goals with the dogged determination encouraged by most, I would have been blind to the wonderful opportunities life has provided.  My goals in the past several years have been a changing target and I don’t regret any goal set that wasn’t achieved.  Those goals were simply trumped by new and more important goals.  Please don’t misunderstand me; I have goals that I want to obtain in five and ten years.  I just don’t know what they are yet.  Maybe I’ll discover them in a few years.

For all of those who set long-term goals and didn’t stop until they were achieved, you did the right thing.  For all of us who set long-term goals and decided they were best changed, we did the right thing.  Success, to me is what I make of today and should not be judged by what I thought it would be when I was 18, or 25, or yesterday.

OK, I would love to continue my rambling but I feel the need to get back to that beach house in the south of Spain.  

Staring 30 in the Bald Spot was written on 11 January 2002, the eve of my 30th birthday.

Non-Fiction

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Staring 30 In the Bald Spot

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