They said there’d be cake

The liminality of 30.

A blank page. Fingers perched above keys. 29 years have brought me here. And what lies ahead? A blank page. The liminality of 30.

Today, as I write this, I am 29 years old. In fact it’s my last day of 29. Tomorrow, next week, whenever this post goes live, I will be 30. Yes, the big three-zero. It's a milestone, they say. A time for reflection, for revelry, for looking back on the years gone by, and ahead to those yet to come—the blank page that is the rest of my life. But as I contemplate this significant number, I find myself conflicted.

On one hand, this feels like a monumental achievement. I’ve long since merged onto the freeway of life—now with 30 mile markers in the rearview—and a scary, exciting, or liberatingly indeterminate number of miles ahead. I do not know where this road will take me, or how long is left. Is it a nice leisurely drive with the top down and a warm summer breeze? Or will there be twists and turns, hills, and the more than occasional Michigan pothole? Will asphalt turn to dirt? Will the engine slowly sputter and run out of gas? Or will there be a little more Thelma & Louise style glory?

The thirty miles traversed thus have left their mark. I consider myself lucky though. The path traveled has been smooth compared to most—no accidents and barely a dent or scratch to be seen. No CARFAX required. A tune-up by way of my enchanting passenger in life, and it’s beginning to feel like I’m getting a handle on this thing.

But on the other hand, there's a nagging sense of unease, a whisper of doubt that creeps from the corners of my mind. Am I really figuring it out? Am I truly on the right path? Or is it all a facade, and I’m merely fooling myself into thinking that I've got it together?

The truth is, as I stand on the precipice of a new decade, I'm faced with how little I actually know. Sure, I have gained some wisdom along the way. But for every answer found, a dozen more questions have taken its place. It’s like those dreams where the faster you try to run, the further away your destination becomes.

And yet, despite the uncertainty, there's a certain comfort in knowing that I'm not alone in this journey. We’re all traveling to the same inevitable destination.

So, as I blow out the candles on my 30th birthday cake (yes, there is indeed cake), I do so with a sense of gratitude for the journey that has brought me here and those who’ve joined along the way. Because while I do not have all the answers, I have something far more valuable: the courage to keep seeking them, wherever they may lead. I have not, and will not resign that the rest of my life is written in stone, that it is ever too late to learn or start something new, that I’ve ever traveled too far down one path to find another.

Here's to 30 years of triumphs and tribulations, and the unknown road ahead. They said there would be cake—and they were right.

All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.
— J.R.R. Tolkien