From the archives.... edited and still relevant

Turning thirty was a shock. Not in the way you might think… it was as if someone turned on a light switch and suddenly everything was clear, everything made perfect sense. Well, almost everything. I am going to die. We all are and it is my mortality and that of those around me that I am most concerned with. This life is our only chance to make anything of ourselves, to have a life as full as possible. Full, like most other things, is relative. For some, working at a corner store, making enough just to have food on the table and perhaps go out on a Friday night to play bingo is full. Not for me. I crave, and for the most part have, a life full of passion, fulfillment and purpose. I try to do as much good as possible but really – how is selling advertising fulfilling my purpose? I suppose I’m as afraid of life as I am of death. I wish I could freeze frame all the great moments or hit pause while I’m trying to make a decision so I don’t lose a moment of it.

I’m afraid of wasting time. I’m afraid of investing so much and it not being enough. I'm afraid of not knowing my direction. I’m afraid of having my heart broken again. Feeling a hurt that you can never put into words but is soo tangible you swear you could take a bite out of it.

The more I live the more I die and that fact is one that I have spent hours pondering and have shed tears over. It’s so short. I know the true living moments are in those frames when you’re making key choices, it’s all a journey, one day at a time, blah blah blah… I get it. I really do but in my heart I’m petrified. Right now I’m in the midst of growth that breaks me and enlightens me all at the same time. Maybe I’m not really afraid of life – just life right now.