I turned 29 this past week. I love birthdays and I love getting older. No problem. But over the past few years I have spent many nights weeping over how I feel I have not accomplished anything in my life. I am now 29 and I have nothing to show for it. I do not have a degree or career. I do not have any savings just a lot of debt. I do not have the love of a good man, no children. I do not own anything of value. I am not super smart or play an instrument well. No hidden talent.
Today I jumped out of a plane. Which turned out not to be a big deal. Pretty normal feeling actually. On the way home I was listening to that Tim McGraw song, Live Like You were Dying, and I realized I have done some of this stuff. I have gone skydiving. Hiked in the Rockies. I pulled the shoot to let the cattle out into the ring. I have gone off-roading a number of times. Rock climbed. I have four-wheeled in the backcountry of Wyoming. I have gone on road trips by myself and with friends. I have hiked a glacier in Alaska. Seen shows on Broadway. Performed on a number of stages. I have done stand-up. Sang the national anthem at college games. Flown a plane. Eaten horse and other gross stuff. Lived in a tent for a total of a year. Spent wonderful days with wonderful dogs. Went on an 18 month missions trip. Worked at a homeless shelter for 9 months. . I have fallen head-over-heels in love. I have loved someone with that pure unconditional kind of love too. I have helped to raise some beautiful children. Now none of these things are special or unique. But remembering and reflecting makes me realize that I do indeed live a full life. And to the world I still have not accomplished much. And the truth is I will probably never have nothing to show. But I think what really matters is how did I love? Did I forgive? How did I start and end each day?