Letting Go

Miranda July was featured on the cover of the New York Times Magazine a few weeks ago. Of course, this sort of surprised me, but then again, so did the article on how to make boozy ice pops at home.

I had read Miranda July's book of short stories called, No One Belongs Here More than You, because Mark Brinker (a guy in my now defunct writer's group) had recommended it. After reading the book, I wasn't sure how I felt about July or what to think of the fact that Brinker thought I would like it.

But, one thing is for sure: I liked her name. Turn's out, she selected that name at age 16. She was inspired by a character from one of her friend's stories in a zine. July said: "It was part of being self-authoring. And it was vanity. I wanted a name that I liked. July looked good on everything and it seemed edible. But it's a 15-year-old's idea of a great name."

Well, I thought, that's pretty cool. Who changes their name at age 16? Gosh, When I was 16, I didn't give thought to my name. That is, I was busy running around in on of those Hypercolor T-shirts, playing broom ball and going to Youth Group.

The Times article went on to explain that she was also co-founder of the band "Le Tigre" and the filmmaker of You, Me and Everyone We Know, which I had also seen and liked more than her collection of short stories.

Besides being an informative article, I loved another one of July's quotes in which she is referring to the point she is at in her life. She says,

"It's kind of about letting go of that feeling in my 20s, that feeling that I will do absolutely everything, I will have sex with everyone, I will go to every country. In your 30s, it's obvious that a finite amount of things will happen."

I LOVE this quote because it's so telling of "my thirties." I love being in my 30s since some of the major question marks are crossed off. I mean, I am married, and at last, I have a career - should I chose to accept it, indefinitely. But, their are finite things too: like a certain amount of fertile eggs in my body, a certain (but meager) amount of saving in my checking account, and a grounding realization that I can't possibly have a baby, get a dog, learn Spanish, open a cafe, publish a book and do unlimited yoga on my days off. (Clearly, time management is not my forte).

Probably, in my 20s I thought I could do all of it, and now I know I have to actually chose what I want. I spend a lot of time thinking about ways to rebuild and reestablish my situation so that I can squeeze in all of these goals. ("Um, yes, I would like to start with the lifestyle sample platter.") The process of thinking of options sometimes drains me to the point that I feel paralyzed by all of my choices.

Fortunately, on most days, I am happy with the lifestyle foundation I have built thus far. My imagination and my denial that I am socked well into my 30s makes me quiver a bit, but I do appreciate when other people throw quotes out about being in their 30s. My 20s feel like a long time ago and my 30s somehow give me too good a view of the years to come. In a way, I feel like the magic bus of my youth is about to hit a fork in the road.

Not to leave off of too deep or dark of a note: It's good to be in my 30s because there is still lots of good stuff to look forward to - no matter how I split my fork.