"All I can say is, it's worth the struggle to discover who you really are and how you, in your own way, can put life together as something that means a lot to you." ~Mister Rogers (whose words are as relevant to me now as they were when I was 5).
This is my last post on Flower Blog.
I turn 30 in just a few short weeks. I am ready for it. And that kind of surprises me. A year ago, the rapidly approaching end of my twenties made me feel slightly queasy as I frantically took stock of where I’d been and where I was going, mentally adding up all the should be’s on my By the Time I Turn 30 List. I asked myself repeatedly what the hell did you do with yourself for the last decade and where are you supposed to be right now?
The answer came to me slowly and not all at once; but it came through loud and clear.
Exactly where you are right. Now.
|I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now |
(especially if that place is on top of a mountain).
I spent 29 with that list in the back of my mind, doing everything I could to pull my life together into what it was supposed to be by the time I turn 30. I applied for a job as Development and Marketing Associate with the Vail Symposium, and I got it. I came up with a financial plan to get myself out of debt once and for all so I can travel instead of daydreaming about travel, and so I can stop complaining about not having a car and just buy one already. I ticked some small adventures off my bucket list and did more yoga. I grew comfortable and more confident with myself and found myself enjoying being single, rather than lamenting it.
About a month ago I realized there was nothing left on the list, and not because I had ticked everything off, but because the list simply didn’t exist anymore. I realized I don’t need the deadline of a birthday to accomplish my goals, or any other deadline for that matter. I’m constantly growing and changing, and constantly working toward my goals, and, at any given moment, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
And now, with just a few weeks to go until I turn 30, I feel at peace with leaving behind the (wonderful) chaos of my twenties for a new decade (which I have no doubt will be filled with its own boughts of wonderful chaos).
My twenties have been a heartbreakingly beautiful madness of mistakes and corrections, of lessons and stumbling around searching for answers—much of which has been documented here on Flower Blog.
Six months ago I started feeling stuck with this blog, I lost my motivation to write for it. Every thing I did attempt to write felt forced and generic, and it all started to feel like a chore. This summer I even tried starting a new blog, except it was still Flower Blog, just in a different spot. I deleted it yesterday. It just didn’t work. My frustration has been mounting with it all, and I’ve been trying to figure out what to do differently, what to do to make it fun and interesting again.
Recently it hit me.
It doesn’t work anymore not because it’s broken, but because it has come to the end. Flower Blog has been written. This is the story of my twenties. It is a story that at times I knew I was writing, chronicling adventures and moments from the past, and at times I wrote because it was the only thing I could do to survive in that moment. It’s all here.
Reading back through some of my favorites is like flipping through a scrapbook:
Grandpa Flower (my Grandpa Flower passed away in February. The memories captured in this post are even sweeter to me now than they were when I wrote this post a few years ago.)
Some of these memories are painful to remember, but beautiful in their pain, and so very important to my story:
And a few more snapshots of moments and memories:
I started Flower Blog to hold me accountable to my writing. It certainly did that. I feel more motivated now than ever to write. That I have grown as a writer through writing this is undeniable. I am ready for a new challenge now. Whether that means starting a new blog or finally sitting down to write a book, or both, I’m not sure. But I am sure that I will keep writing, and I will continue to share my words. Thank you for finding me here, and for reading. It has been a pleasure to have you on this journey with me. Until we meet again (and I certainly hope that we do), cheers.