30th Birthday Special
Today I turn 30 years old.
I honestly had been dreading it in recent years and in my own quiet manner. Time moves quickly, especially when we schedule ourselves not in minutes and hours but in weeks and months. 10 years goes by fast, and my next milestone is 40. It’s a reality.
There is such an emphasis on youth and being young, apparent in many fields and industries. Yet I notice it most in the creative industries: music, video games, writing, even visual art in some instances. All through my 20s, there has been an unspoken air of favoring young individuals - that the creative industries are always on the lookout for the youngest goldmine of success. As if, with each passing year, one loses incremental chances of success compared to their previous self, much like grains of sand slipping to the bottom of the hourglass.
The idea is true, to an extent. We should all act today with the interests of tomorrow in mind, because in doing so we will create our chances for success.
But gosh, I was wrong beyond that!
There really isn’t an expiration date on success. Even considering the one date we will all experience - I mean, Vincent Van Gogh wasn’t famous nor was his work popular in his lifetime. His success came afterwards. The same happened to Edgar Allen Poe. Oh, and Kurt Vonnegut’s board game design from the 1950s was just released this year, which is posthumously awesome for him.
So no, there doesn’t need to be an expiration date for our success.
And really, my perception of the spotlight shining on early-20-something individuals is likely a hefty case of imposter syndrome and unhealthy comparisons due to social media (but that’s another topic entirely and for another time - today is the first day of my 30s and I choose to look forward).
Instead, in reflecting and projecting for my future, I’ve clued into the lives and, more importantly, the timelines of a different sect of creatives. I don’t know what to call them collectively, but they are the John Williams and the J.R.R. Tolkiens and the Philip Glasses of the world - those who don’t draw their name in the sand until their 30s, their 40s, their 50s or later.
On the flip side, we have Olympic athletes (who I always enjoy watching; the Olympics are one of my favorite things). Many of them sprint or luge or triathlon their way out of the womb, continue training through their teens, participate in their first (and maybe last) Olympics in their late teens or early 20s and then… that’s it? Not that their life is over right then, but I can’t fathom doing something so tremendous at such a young age and then having to go about the rest of your life. When all is said and done, I don’t envy that timeline.
No, I’d rather frolic gleefully through the timeline of the… Late Bloomer? Fine Wine? Yeah, the Fine Wine Timeline (wtf) isn’t a bad option. Success to look forward to, even if it means delayed gratification. I’m okay with that. But I also need to respect the other side of the coin, which is to put in the necessary work now (and then even more after that) in order to reach the moment of true gratification.
John Williams was in his mid 30s when he started his career in film composition, and didn’t begin composing for Spielberg blockbusters until his early 40s. Before that, he put in the work playing keyboard for film scores.
J.R.R. Tolkien was in his mid 40s when The Hobbit was published. He was in his mid 50s when The Lord of the Rings trilogy was published, and it wasn’t until Tolkien was in his late 50s to early 60s that the trilogy became popular. Before that, he spent his early life building the foundations for the stories.
Philip Glass was continually learning about music composition in his late 20s and early 30s, and continued to sculpt his own style of music through his 50s (if not through today). It took active exposure to and engaged understanding of music to be able to participate so thoroughly.
These folks certainly aren’t bad reference points. Through the Olympic lens (or the social media doomscrolling lens), my time for success is behind me. But phooey to that! I choose to look through the Fine Wine lens, and that means I’m just getting started.
