Of the many talents people possess, pausing time has yet to be one of them. Time runs like a flight of never-ending stairs leading up and counting down to life events, to appointments, to the one moment where you have absolutely nothing to do and are completely void of responsibility (I wish). If only for a minute, time would allow us to catch up with the goal of keeping up maybe those empty slots of voided responsibility would come along more often. While time plays hard to get like the confession of a schoolyard romance, there is always one day that comes along to celebrate the collection of minutes producing the span of our lives… our day of birth.
I remember, as a small boy, thinking age 30 seemed a lifetime away and surely my hair would have surrendered to my youth while wrinkles threatened my face with gravity by then. How naïve. How completely wrong I was. As I approach, and accept, my 29th year I find myself grateful for the many lessons I’ve learned along the way. It seems every year I uncover a better version of myself… a wiser, finer-tuned, more appreciative me. Hopefully, this next year leading to my 30th birthday will not be full of hair loss and loose skin. I was sure to take a picture of myself now, the only real effort one has in pausing time, to capture this moment. The same moment 29 years ago reserving a time where I was void of responsibility, if only for a day… if only for a minute.
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