Staring At A New Life

Starting a new blog invariably inspires me to put something out here.

A past reflection, a future dream, a present moment to remember.

It was with much nostalgia that I celebrate my 35th birthday last Friday. Thirty-five is like a halfway road in my life. It's like the next time I say thirty-five years have passed, I'll be seventy. Wow.

Most people have done something great with their lives by the age of 35. Either they've borne 3 children or they've made it somewhere brilliant with their careers. Me? No kids, no ambition.

I would like to think that I am enjoying myself doing something I like, but really, I couldn't even say that. If I don't think about it, I won't feel I'm pathetic, but if I do think about it, it feels rather like a low point in my life.

Perhaps this is the middle-age crisis people talk about all the time. I could never understand that before, but now I do.

It's the point in your life that you're physically on the podgy side, mentally frustrated at every corner of decision you've made or are about to make, and psychologically unstable about who you are, what you represent, the potential, and hence, purpose and meaning of your life. It seems as if the colors on the slate of my life was wiped clean in one instant and darkness enshrouds it.

There's no 'trying to understand myself', no 'I will feel better if I think this way', no 'if I do this I will feel better'. Just a daunting wondering of the if-onlys and what-ifs.

They say it's all a matter of choice, that at some point, you choose to rejoice and be content.

The problem is, the fact that we have a choice becomes real dim when you're undergoing this middle-age crisis.

Some may argue I shouldn't call it, 'middle-age crisis'. Shouldn't call it anything really, because it isn't anything.

Just choose joy, and you'll be fine.

Choose life, and all will be well.

Would I be able to, I wonder?