I am turning 25 tomorrow and I feel like this should be a landmark, a point of reflection. I can pause now and look back on my life with a critical eye, with curiousity, with wonderment, and dismay. But I find that when I think about my life, it seems to be stuck perpetually in the present. I remember events, places, people, but I don’t remember myself. That is to say, my consciousness is really just a product of ‘the omnipresent now’, and it is only with great effort that I can recall where certain thoughts, habits, ideas even came from. That said, once I do remember, I tend to dwell. I’ve had lots of major events in my life that have forever changed me, both wonderful and terrible. But on the whole, its been the small tremors, the little subterranean earthquakes that warn of impending terrestrial shifts of consciousness (world-upside-down-turning) that are the most significant indicators of what’s to come. I’ve never considered myself an optimist, but I’m not a true pessimist either. I’d like to think I’m suave (is it ok for a girl to be suave nowadays?) enough to pull off cynicist with just the right dose of measured nihilism. Somehow though, somehow, I managed to find the bright side. It may take longer than normal periods of seclusion and moping, and I do mope, but I come out feeling like there’s hope for me.
Despite the shock of this day, I had a little earthquake this morning and it told me I would be alright. I’m sticking with that thought because in my heart of hearts, I really want to believe in myself. And what better time than on one’s quarter-century anniversary than to decide to be ok.