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The First Thing (Edition #36)

In an effort to continue having a productive mindset, I am going to try and make a new tradition. Ever since I was in my 20s, I would write eulogies summarizing the prior year of my life on the eve of my birthday. It was my form of closure that kept me at peace and allowed me to start thinking forward. 

But even if I have been able to look forward, a lot of my writing tended to emphasize a backward momentum. That is why I want to try and start a series I am calling “The First Thing,” in which I will attempt to write with the clarity of a new leaf turning over the hopes and dreams for the year ahead, along with whatever insight I want to provide about the greater picture.

On the surface, I have not hit a lot of the benchmarks that people in their Mid-30s should’ve achieved by now. While that hasn’t been a source of complaint, there are times where you can’t help but compare yourself to the larger system and feel like you’ve been cast aside, doomed to live out the rest of your life in that darkness where you’ll always be around, but it will never have that emotional access that it once did. When I was in my early 20s, I listened to The Cracked Podcast, and the one episode that stuck with me was how people tend to solidify their identity by their Mid-30s. They were referencing more this idea of tolerating new music or embracing new ideas, but it can apply to a lot of things about oneself. Maybe it’s the drive or a lingering sense of hope in the world. These are all ideas that resonate with me and have been equal sources for motivation and fear.

I think it’s easy to look on the horizon and see what life can be if my brain does start to solidify into something more exclusionist. A lot of mainstream discourse has favored this sense of ostracizing those different from yourself, even to the point of who gets help when natural disasters come around. To be honest, it’s produced some toxic fantasies in my mind, and it has caused me to think long and hard about why I have them. I have to think about the fear of turning into them and how I can best avoid that. After all, there have been good-hearted people who fell into old age without espousing bitterness. Why am I so worried about reaching the arc right before my intellectual decline?

Of course, this is ridiculous to think in your late THIRTIES for no other reason than it’s still a vital period where your health is relatively intact. Many iconic athletes are still in their prime despite growing rumors to retire. Maybe it’s the concern of fading into irrelevance and having everything I say or do not matter, or that I simply will cease to have good tastes in judgment. For as much as we praise the individual for their unique opinions, when does it become an issue of being stubborn, where you’re too obsessed with how things used to be? 

At the time, The Cracked Podcast presented a world that was far in the future and one I could envision from sample sizes. As I’ve reached that point, I do recognize that people my age aren’t “with it,” or at least have moved on to families and careers where they’re not engaged with self-checks as regularly. I do believe that many are kind and have the best intentions, but everybody slides a little. I’m sure that I have even without realizing it. 

Even then, I hold onto this hope that as a country, we can return to a place of negotiation and compromise. It’s one where transparency and honesty matter, where we don’t look at natural disasters and treat them like hierarchical concerns. Growing up, I had never been to Louisiana, but we all cared about Hurricane Katrina. It’s what a nation is supposed to do, and it’s upsetting to not see things continue in that direction.

For as much as this is a conversation outside of my control, I think it puts into context what my concern is approaching 40. I am now in my late 30s and notice that a lot of the primary years are behind me. It’s also evident how much can only be done if I push myself out of bed and try. I may be imperfect, but the need to form a forward-thinking mindset is important. It’s one that should have hope and prosperity, where you come away with these tangential memories that matter to nobody but yourself. 

I think it’s the way that you continue to feel inspired. Optimism means having faith that tomorrow will be worth it. I need to keep thinking that way so that I can create art and find ways to be there for people I love. I need to actually make more of a concerted effort to plan for where I want to go in life and never settle. Maybe I’ll be proud of what I’ve done along the way, but a novel shouldn’t be the end of the dream. It’s one of many things that will anticipate a reflection of who I was when I was here. It’s why I’m writing this now.

Nothing is telling me that I  need to become the people I fear. At most, I can look at their decisions and notice how burdened they are by poor choices. We are all doomed to make a few of them, but trying to make the most of the larger picture is what’s most important. Make other people happy. Embrace something new. It’s why I’ve picked up new hobbies and continue to expand my music interests. We get one life. Do you want to spend it not recognizing how amazing Thelonious Monk was on piano, or how Wim Wenders captures the human experience better than just about anyone? You really want to ignore the buoyancy of something like Bananaball? Even if art’s not your thing, don’t you want to craft something that requires time and patience so that in years to come, you look back and have these muscle memories? I may be lousy at wood carving, but the slip-ups are just as fun as the blocky bird that came from it.

Maybe you make stories for others. I like to think people care about what I have to say. But on some level, you need to do it for yourself to be reminded of why life matters. It’s when you stop that the passion goes away. There is a need to try every week to make the most of things. It may not always be to the level of barn raising. Maybe it’s simply babysitting or spending an extra 10 minutes at the convenience store to take in the eclecticism of your neighborhood. There are ways to be proud without being loud about it. They may be insignificant, and those will fade, but the spontaneity gives you a chance to risk finding precious ideas.

Ultimately, the motto is “you do you.” Not everyone is built for the same narrative, and while I preach about finding ways to challenge oneself, there are pros and cons to this approach. Even then, my fear of reaching my 40s and being stuck in a rut continues to bother me. I don’t know that I have the same antipathy to “sellouts” that a teenager would, but there is still a need to not fully give in. Maybe enough to be realistic, especially if it comes with a comfort level that allows external risks to be possible. After all, live theater ain’t cheap and gas doesn’t go as far as it used to. But even then, remember the importance of passion. It’ll take you pretty far. 

Even then, I must try to stay true. I must not lose that spark nor turn into a bitter old person who has lost touch with the world. There must be something that keeps me alive. I will continue to write. I am currently working on another novel (release date TBD 2028-29). I am working on staying in shape. I am working on improving small things in my life that will be discussed at a later time. Most of all, I am trying to find ways to be happy. 

I know this doesn’t fully feel like a proper look forward in that it barely spoke to resolutions, but I want to believe it still makes sense. Like all years, 35 was one full of surprises that are hard to pin down at the starting line. Sometimes you need to go down a ways and just go with the flow. That’s what I’m going to try and do for the time being.

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