Today is my 30th birthday.

And in my annual tradition of writing a State of the Self, I wrote a long piece about my current state of life.

I will post that shortly, but as I wake up this beautiful morning, a tumultuously grey morning, I think to myself, “Birthdays are days of celebration. I want mine to be of thanksgiving.”

While my cohort of 29 year olds wish me well and I depart the alliance and move toward the grace of 30, I am reminded of all the goals and achievements I set out for myself. All the things I *said* I would have “by the time, I’m thirty.”

Thank God some of the them happened.

Thank God some of the them didn’t.

Without super thoughts of predestination, I do carry a certain acceptance that life, the Universe, a spirit co-authors this crazy life I have led. And at this very moment, at this view on the mountain, I am left with nothing but gratitude for the monstrous amounts of love and relationship in my life.

Nothing is sweeter than the connections I have been and all of the understanding, comfort, conflict, and lessons that come with that.

Several months ago, I made a bucket list for 30 and as I shared the idea of what I wanted to accomplish, some folks pushed the customary milestone activities like skydiving, traveling, doing risk things, walking the line between safe and dangerous…as if to prove something about turning thirty.

There’s nothing I have built in my thirty years that I am willing to jeopardize by doing something that is not supported by life-affirming, joy brimming, and champagne flavored love.

I don’t want to kiss someone random in a bar. I want to make sure that the one partner I have chosen feels the magnanimous truth of how much I adore him, how he has become, as Nathaniel Hawthorn wrote, the only thing that was ever necessary to me.

I don’t want to skydive because I already feel as if I’ve flown across the difficult terrain of my heart and survived.

There’s no greater pilgrimage to take than the one I just took to my parent’s homeland.

I’ve found, at 30, what I believe most people strive their entire existence for.

And I’m not done yet.

At the present moment, I am drafting a book proposal for an editor. Prepping for an interview with a documentary director whose work I admire. Packing for a wild woman’s retreat. Checking the calendar for a roadtrip to see a close circle of friends. Throwing away the tissue paper from packages I received from family. Nursing a sore foot that I injured during working out. Smell like lemon from the body massage oil used yesterday. Headed to mass in twenty five minutes. Listened to the birthday greetings left for me at midnight last night. Writing this list of richness.

Paradox is the state of thirty. There is nothing aging about my skin or hair. There is nothing I did not accomplish that I set out to do in my teens and there is everything left that I intend to build for the rest of my life.

Let me begin.