I am three weeks into my journey toward twenty six and I have been feeling all of the feelings. Three weeks is also the amount of time it has taken me to write this blog post. I've been determined to finish at the end of each work day, but these words have been painful to start. I don't know why. I am happy. I have positive energy to share, and as I begin another year of life, this is what I originally wanted to express. But, all I've been able to do is choke up before I go to sleep.
Perhaps, because I don't know how to classify this period in time. My husband and I are so close to reaching a major goal of ours and I am incredibly anxious to get there. Yet, I don't want to rush this sacred and vulnerable season we are experiencing together. I need to remember that it is not necessary to have a reason for everything. Humans give labels to make sense of life, to give identity and structure. Is this act beneficial? Lately, trying to understand is constraining.
Inspiration is flowing from the crisp transition in weather, but my mood is out of whack. I am on edge when I am too comfortable. I have craved visual change since I can remember. I am either going somewhere or I am rearranging the furniture to alter my surroundings.
A quarter of a century carries a weight that prior birthdays did not. There are days I feel old, as if I have outgrown my youth. Other days, I feel too young for my age and I think I should be further along than I am. A number doesn't define who I am, but my experiences do. As my body and opinions become wiser, I can't help to feel like this is just the beginning.