Yeah. I turned 30. The big 3-0! I haven’t posted here in a long time, and this newsletter needed revival. What could my big, bad birthday post be about? I could write 30 things I learned for each year spent on this planet- or maybe not. I haven’t learned that much, or implemented my learnings even. My core remains the same, albeit a little worn out. And that revelation led to this:
I am far from acting my age.
For the most part, I am an old soul, lurking in a corner, sipping hot coffee, reading a book and not wanting to be disturbed for eternity. Only people closest to me know about my alter ego - a paranoid, immature, belligerent teen. My best friend calls it ‘Hulk-y’. Good old Hulky can snap and destroy buildings and bridges in seconds. Why? Because she is uncomfortable, or something struck her the wrong way, or simply because someone was stupid enough to push her buttons.
Now, I have attended many talks, read books, and watched multiple videos on how to wade through the dark, dingy, and overcrowded waters of social living. How do I find happiness and/or inner peace? (Are the two synonymous or dependent on each other? Just asking.) For me, everything culminates into these three principles that Art of Living taught me many many years ago -
Don’t let others push your buttons.
Don’t be a football of other people’s opinion; and
Act, but don’t react.
In the majority of my years, these principles have guided me and kept that silly goose Hulky in check. Time and again, I have to remind myself not to snap. However, sometimes, she escapes, leaving behind her the debris of hurt, regret, and a sort of mental hangover. I have reacted. It’s been done. The clock resets to day 0.
Why am I telling you this? Maybe I want you to know I am a personification of Pobody’s Nerfect. Or that it is impossible to learn 20, 25, 30, or 50 different things over the course of your busy life and remember all of them at the same time. In an ideal setting, yes. But this world, as we have daily proof, is far from perfect. So, in a way, I am asking you, and myself, to take it easy. Your mean green teen phase might be the salve that your thousand-year-old soul needs to heal.
Happy 30! Please don’t wish me.