I thought I should make an appearance on this blog of mine to make note of turning 39. It happened last Monday. I’m not too scared of growing older, I want to be confident and fearless as I move through age, like Isabella Rossellini. She seems to be acquiring the correct wrinkles in the correct places, all the while smiling big and continuing to do what she loves. If I’m making short-films about how dragonflies mate when I’m 56, then things will be going pretty well.
Even though I’m determined to not let the end of my 30’s be the downer that society and the media want it to be, a little bit of fear sneaks in here and there. Shouldn’t I have had a baby by now? Can I still wear my hair long? Is it too late to find work or a hobby that I truly love? If I had a friend who was asking these questions, I would encourage her and think it was ridiculous to see age as any sort of barrier. So, that’s just what I need to tell myself.
It feels odd to be facing these questions…it always seemed so far away. But here it is. I was looking for a picture of my niece last week on Flickr when I saw a picture of me on my 29th birthday. I had been living in Atlanta for the previous year trying to make my internship at a music magazine turn into a job. It didn’t work out the way I had hoped, but I made three life-long friends there, and grew to love Atlanta and that time in my life. When I see the 29-year-old Judah, I feel exactly the same way now. That could be a good or a bad thing, but it makes me realize that we don’t really change all that much. So, it’s best to be positive and just plow ahead. As cliché as it sounds, it goes by fast, so make good friends, be present, and for goodness’ sake, lighten up.
(Birthday 29 in Atlanta with my beloved Gretchen doll on my glass, who I lost later that summer at a Ray LaMontagne concert; birthday 34 in Paris and birthday 39 in Oslo. Where will I be toasting at 40?)
street of trees 