Twenty Nine is the ugliest number under 30. It's so arbitrary. And stupid. Think about it, you can't divide it equally, you can't multiply any two numbers to give you 29 and it's not the square root of anything. It's the most un-important number in the 20's, completely pointless and utterly useless. Nothing substantial or important ever came from the number 29. It's like the black sheep of the number family.
If I had it my way I'd be 25 years old until I turned 30. Thanks to certain OCD tendencies, I like rounding off my numbers see. But in the grander scheme of things, it doesn't really matter innit. I could never quantify what 29 tumultuous years on this earth has taught me. As I've mentioned before, I've learned more in these 29 years than most people will ever learn in their entire lifetimes. And I still learn every day.
For me, 29 brings an acute sense of things, a deeper understanding, broader perceptions, more clarity and a level of maturity in my everyday life that surprises me quite often. And in many ways I feel like I've paid my dues. Twenty nine years of digging through life's trenches, facing my fears, making mistakes, learning from them, learning from other's mistakes, going to hell and back at least three times... yes I've paid my dues. I didn't get here by accident. Everything I've learned over the years came with a heavy price... and the more valuable the lesson, the heavier the price.
That's not to say that there isn't more out there... more to learn, more to life and more growing pains to suffer. We live and learn, every single day, at every single age.
In addition, 29 has brought an avalanche of long-awaited, tangible and significant changes to my life. I guess in many ways, life as I knew it will never be the same again.
I initially wanted to celebrate with a cake in the shape of a coffin or casket. I thought it would be great to have everyone dress in mourning black and give a eulogy on the 29 years that were... a fitting way to say goodbye to my misspent youth and all those years searching, reflecting, analysing, drowning, agonising, wanting, losing, triumphing, obsessing, yearning, fighting... but I didn't have the time to prepare and for now I'm content to just BE.
I'm also grateful for everything in my life: the good, the bad and the ugly because every single thing has been instrumental in the evolution of Azra. And like I've said before, there's no one else I'd rather be.
Getting older does have it's disadvantages though. Most females have to worry about frown lines and wrinkles and sagging boobs and gaining weight... and we have to make certain not-so-wonderful alterations to our lifestyles to accommodate these changes... like substituting this:
But I must say that the absolute worst thing about getting older is that innate overwhelming desire for one of these:
For most women, it's a biological process that we can't escape. It is completely uncontrollable and the yearning is almost deafening. I will never look at eggs the same way again.
But for the most part, aging definitely has it's perks. I'm in a better place physically, mentally, psychologically, emotionally and spiritually, then I've ever been before. It's even better than last year. I'm like a fine wine... like Brie de Meaux, I just get better with age (not knowing anything about wine or smelly cheeses, I'll just have to take the experts' word on that).
So here's to an endless harvest of all that is tranquil and serene, and a lifetime of harmonious contented BEING. And cake... can't have a birthday without cake now can we...