"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way."
- A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
This quote pretty much sums up the last decade of my life, better known as the Roaring Twenties. Thirty has not yet caught hold, but neither has any age since 27, which was the last time my psyche and my age were in some sort of comfortable alignment.
It's only day 3 and as much as I try, as much as I sit still and recite softly, "Hi, I'm 30," I'm unable to connect with it. It's like saying, "Hi, I'm Paul." And since my name isn't Paul, and I'm a girl (or grown behind woman at this point), the association is zero.
I kicked the door in for 20 and was greeted by applause, ushering me into a memorable decade in which--by the grace of God--the good, fun, laughter-filled days outweighed the scary, miserable, melancholy days.
Conversely, I tip-toed into 30 and fortunately, the other thirty-somethings don't realize I'm here yet. Which is fine. Think I'll chill on the wall and observe for a while.
It feels strange to be a member of a whole different demographic, sharing an age bracket with people who, just last week, I considered significantly older and more grown than myself. We're neighbors now. Maybe I'll send over some bran muffins.
Nonetheless, I'm blessed to be here and curious to see how the Thirties and I will get along.