Turning 35 – what’s the alternative?

That’s what my bubby always says about aging – what’s the alternative?

And a quote by Tevia from Fiddler on the Roof, about his eldest daughter who marries a poor tailor she loves very much:

They’re so happy, they don’t realize how miserable they are.

Today when I quoted this to someone, he said that it could also be the opposite.

So true. It is so often the opposite today.

Tonight, from afar, I heard this from the television:

You want to kill yourself because you’re sad? That’s ridiculous!

Happiness is not the ultimate goal in life? No, it’s only part of the picture.

Another part is that I’m turning 35 next week. God, that’s old. It’s full-out adult, no two ways about it.

Mozart died at 35. While I feel like I’m at the beginning of my life and use that as an excuse for not having created more, Mozart created an insane amount of music in his very short life. OK, maybe literally insane, but still.

My relationship with the world changes over time. There are so many things I hate about the world. I hate death. I hate pain and suffering. I hate the rat race. I hate sadness. I hate meaninglessness. I hate fear. I hate lying.

But I love aging because of the peace of mind that accompanies it. I love understanding more and more that I don’t understand the world which makes it feel more full of potential.

I love connecting with people better. I love hope. I love potential. I love anticipation.

I love beauty and creativity and human connection.

I’m no longer certain the world is a bad place. I don’t know either way. This is a good development.

Happy birthday.