Ah...the thirties. A somewhat mid-point in our lives when we take stock of who we are and what it is we were destined to do or be. For many of us this period represents a sort of writers bloc. Our teens are full of activity and possibility. Our early twenties are spent harnessing that possibility and forging the foundation for our assigned place within the world.
But than the momentum of those promises and goals slows down and by the time we reach our thirties we start to take a deep look at our original plans. For some, they are right on course. For many others, they are left to a cacophony of "second guesses" and "what ifs".
The plot isn't quite moving forward as we'd hoped.
What to do?
This is a period in which we start to soul search, question a little more deeply, and take up jogging. In our quest for meaning we do odd things like growing a garden, writing music, running relay races.
We've got to prove to our selves that our lives mean something. That there is more to our existence than a career, bills, and taking the kids to soccer practice. We no longer are given lists of clubs to join or teams to play on. We now have to forge our own path and provide our own momentum.
The seeds of change are varied. Disappointment, yearning, curiosity, or thirst can all lead to this change. But these seeds are probably the purest of any that we've ever planted. They can represent the core essence of our soul and ambitions. They are planted and nourished by nothing more than our own desires and our quest to fulfill the possibilities laid out in our hearts and heads.
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