Surviving Striving to Thrive

Dear All,

I hated my twenties. If I had the opportunity to go back and do it all over again but right this time, I wouldn't even bother. That's how bad they were. Even so, turning thirty was no picnic. Thirty is when life starts getting serious, when you have to start thinking ahead because the time you need to be thinking ahead for is, like, now. Not being a big planner, I didn't alter my behavior significantly.

Despite this, my thirties, are going pretty well. I have a reasonable place to live, a nice marriage, good human and animal friends and an interesting, if not lucrative, job. I have a good life regardless of the shortcomings of my health. Now that I am on the verge of saying good-bye to my thirties, I already miss them. It's like morning the death of a dying relative. The relative is still there, but you can't ignore the imminent loss. Sometimes this may even get in the way of enjoying what time you do have.

When the deep dark depressions hit, it's very hard to remember to be grateful that at least things aren't any worse. After all, they could be. Still, it's the mundane everyday depressions that dehumanize us because we fail to strive, to thrive, to have goals, to throw ourselves at our goals tooth and nail, hell and high leather.

Sincerely,
Betsy