Thoughts on turning 30...

I turned 30 a few weeks ago.

It feels crazy to write that sentence. It feels like just yesterday I was 22, graduating college, and moving to Portugal on a whim.

30. It’s a number that so many people, myself included, tend to see as a “coming of age” into adulthood sort of thing... like 30 is the time when you are really truly an adult. When I was a kid, if someone told me they were 30, I immediately thought they were old with their life figured out.

There are a lot of feelings as I reflect on this number.

A major feeling I have is gratitude. As someone who is constantly thinking about death and making the most out of my limited time here, I’m beyond thankful that I’ve made it this far. Thankful the universe has let me make it this far. 30 years seemed to have passed very quickly, but I realize it’s all relative. Many people haven’t had the same opportunity to experience this many laps around the sun. For that, I am extremely grateful.

In the same intensity that I feel gratitude, I feel anxiety. A deep anxiety. Almost with some humor around it because 30 in itself doesn’t mean anything. But at the same time, it does feel as if a cycle is coming to a close. I can look back at my 20s and see a decade of experimentation, adventures (both internally and externally), and constantly pushing myself outside of my comfort zone. Within this decade, my priorities have constantly shifted, but experimentation to understand what made me tick always remained high on the list.

Hence why I’m always on a new adventure, trying new things, and essentially living a new life every 3-6 months. I learned to love that part of me. I discovered that this part was actually necessary for me to thrive. Around 23 years old, I realized that my desire to do a lot of things instead of focusing on one wasn’t a problem... it was my recipe for happiness, to stay true to my soul. Once I dropped the assumptions around how I “should” be living my life, my life got a lot more free. I was able to dive into these multiple adventures without a sense of guilt for straying away from societal norms. And now, I can’t imagine my life any other way.

So, why the anxiety? For the past two years, I’ve journaled a lot about my level of excitement and curiosity going down, and me being unable to keep that flame lit. This spark that has driven me from 18 to 28 seems to require a lot more maintenance now. For me, curiosity and excitement are two things I find essential to living a happy life, meaningful life... whatever word you want to put in there that gives you a sense of fulfillment and purpose.

Without them, life seems sort of bland. Ironically, I’ve felt this even more strongly the longer I’ve been on my current adventure of living in a van and driving throughout the Americas. It’s been over two years on the road now, and I’m constantly seeing new places, immersing myself in new cultures, and seeing some of the most epic landscapes of my life. But even with all this beauty and greatness and novelty around me, I find myself (generally) much less curious and excited about the world than I was even a few years prior.

And I know why. I’m lacking a deeper purpose that I can feel throughout my whole being. Couple this with the feeling of time passing much more quickly than it used to, and it can turn into a mini existential crisis fast. I don’t want to waste any time…

So, I finally hit 30 and feel like it’s a great time to revamp this fire inside of me, to be regularly excited by life and all it has to offer… because, let’s be honest, the opportunities are endless and that’s incredible. There’s so much to do and be and see and explore and learn - it’s wild to me that I am not regularly more excited and curious.

This will be a contradictory statement among some people reading this, but I believe life is meaningless. Yup, I said it! There isn’t some hidden meaning behind our lives waiting to be discovered. But I don’t think about this in a negative way, rather a positive one. A belief I like to refer to as optimistic nihilism. There is no inherent meaning in the world, in your existence, in anything... so you get to make the meaning. Now that’s a big task. It’s sometimes overwhelming. But it’s also incredibly beautiful.

I’ve found I personally work best in intensive cycles where I throw myself into something with lots of intent to learn, grow, and create for 3-6 months at a time. Anything more, and the project has to be really big. Otherwise, I get bored, the fire of excitement and curiosity dims, and I stop feeling this deeper sense of alignment and purpose.

Of course, life is a balancing act. There are moments of rest. There are moments of learning. There are moments of doing. There are moments of waiting for the next cycle to present itself, which seems to be the one I’m in currently.

Now, I have a lot of projects in mind for the cycles that I want to bring into my 30s. My priorities and desires have shifted, as they regularly do. And I’m still learning and discovering some changing deeper desires that will bring my soul a lot of purpose and contentment. That’s part of the journey that I know requires patience, to let these things manifest as they will. That, and trust.

The biggest negative - although I struggle to use that word because it’s also been extremely positive - consequence of living the life that I have chosen over the past 8 or so years of being nomadic has been not having a deep community. A community like the tight group of close friends I had in college is something that I haven’t nourished. As I’m getting old(er), I feel a major call to develop a community again, especially a brotherhood, hopefully with some old friends and new friends alike.

Interestingly enough, as I was writing this draft, one of my best friends from college reached out to me and suggested we spend a few weeks this year surfing in one spot in Central America. Perfect. Thanks, Universe!

Does fostering a community mean picking a spot to stay in for longer than usual? Probably. Does that scare me? A bit - but I’ve also found that I usually get a lot of fulfillment out of pursuing things that scare me.

This is fitting because the projects I have in mind for the near future also require the same thing - staying put for a bit. I want to create some things bigger than me, that promote community. I want to build. I want to get more in touch with the land and nourish it as it nourishes me. I feel like I’m already a very active person, but I want to take my health to the next level during my 30s. More major physical challenges - a marathon, Iron Man, triathlon, etc. Training that will require some consistency in equipment, space, and access to quality food.

Anyhow, if you’ve made it this far, you’ve probably realized I’m a bit of a rambler.

Welcome (back) to my newsletter.

Writing is one way I get clarity around my thoughts and understand myself and my ideas more. I journal almost every day and occasionally share here. This is far from a “What I learned in my 20s” post and much more a post about setting myself up for creating the best 30s I can imagine (and even better than I can possibly imagine).

And I’m still very much so in the imagining phase.

If this resonates with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Thanks for reading,
Alex 🙃

[sent from my van along the Carretera Austral in Chilean Patagonia]