Be True

What is it about turning 30 that it makes people ask the most questions about themselves, and their lives. Many of my friends are around this age group - 29, 30, 31, etc. Ironically the colloquial "mid-life crisis" used to be a 40's thing -- now it's dropped to a 30's thing. No matter, I've been through some of it myself. And I've had enough chats with friends about these introspective self-examination type issues to realize that they are not easily resolved, sometimes never. And they're not exclusive to before-30's or 30-somethings... so all you older people, watch out!

Some lessons I learned these few months...

1. There is a huge world beyond these four walls. Don't judge your life by the immediate environment around you, but by whether you are living true to yourself.

2. Don't let your soul die. Keep it nourished, excited, happy, fulfilled.

3. There is a big difference between being accomplished and being fulfilled.

4. Sometimes life takes a big U-turn from what you set out in mind - and it may not be a bad thing.

5. Oolong tea is best drunk cold.

6. Regret is a wasted emotion. Feeling sorry for yourself is wasting time.

7. Nothing beats a New York slice of pizza when you have the munchies.

I suppose it's serendipity that I have also re-discovered Walt Whitman, and it's not surprising that his frank and honest depiction of truest conflicts and convictions facing our most inner souls, resonate strongly with me right now. Here is an extract that reminds me of what's important:

{extract from "Song of Myself", Walt Whitman}

Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward
and city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors old and
new
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues,
The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or loss or
lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful news,
the fitful events;
These come to me days and night and go from me again,
But they are not the Me myself

Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am,
Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle, unitary,
Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable certain
rest,
Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next,
Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering at it.

Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog with
linguists and contenders,
I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.

I believe in you my soul, the other I am must not abase itself to
you,
And you must not be abased to the other.