Maybe just maybe

Have you ever wondered how you got here? All those roads travelled and decisions made, some great some not so great – what was that one decision that might have changed it all? I’ve always equated feelings about age to a perception about life in general. One wouldn’t mind ageing if one felt satisfied is how I’ve always reasoned. The problem is, I think I no longer feel completely satisfied. All around me I see people who have their lives and careers sorted, they seem to know exactly what they want from life and many of them already have it. And then I see me, starting a million and one different things, travelling a hundred different roads, all in parallel without a clear understanding of which one I should stay on.

For the first time in my life, I’m acutely aware that I’m getting older, that a chunk of life has passed me by. I will never get those years or experiences back. I will never again be a 21-year-old deciding on my first full-time job or a 26-year-old staring at the love of her life at the altar. I will also never again stare in the mirror and wonder when my first wrinkle will appear. All these things have been done.

With age comes a sort of wisdom though – a good (or bad?) memory that translates to me remembering every minute detail of pain or embarrassment means I rarely repeat the same mistake twice. Many roads travelled means gaining a pretty good understanding of what you love or hate, ostensibly allowing you to be faster at making certain choices or at least recognising the bad ones.

I guess I’m a bit melancholy, maybe somewhat nostalgic or maybe I’ve recently just been spending too much time with people younger than me. Maybe I’m slightly envious of that wide-eyed look at the world as a 20-year old, wondering where life will take you. Maybe I just wish I could go back knowing all that I know now, maybe there are just too many maybes and possibly that’s just the point of life – the not knowing and waiting to find out. Maybe just maybe.