This weekend I found something I have been looking for the last little while: an answer.
While visiting a friend’s lake house over the weekend I met someone who Rob has known for years but I’ve never met. I’ll call her J. Rob and J went to high school together. J dated one of Rob’s friends. J is friends with a friend of mine, who is married to a friend of Rob’s. And we were all at this lake house on the weekend.
Within the first few minutes of meeting J I thought she was chillin’. She seemed laid-back and we conversed easily. But it wasn’t until a bonfire and some (more than some) red wine later that night that we really got to talking. How we started to talk, on our own with no one there to “buffer” the conversation or whatever, is unknown. But it happened and we just ended up there together, on the deck of the lake house, talking.
Turns out J is a writer, too.
Now this might not seem like a big deal but there is something you should know about people who write: we all think we’re nuts. So running into J and talking about thinking that I’m nuts was, in a word, needed. Very much so.
J has a long-term writing project going and I have mine (this blog included), so we had a lot to share. We spilled our guts all over the place, just laying it out there. We talked about writing, our process, our doubts, our scary thoughts… it all came out, like one loud, satisfying burp. Relief.
I shared parts of my “Before I Turn 30 List” with J and told her about my year-long reinvention project. She cheered me on and I needed that. But what I really took away from J was when I confessed that this year of reinvention is about a lot more than a List or a blog or the number 30 for me. This is a year about doing things and not second guessing. Not once. J agreed and said something fabulous like this:
“Whatever it is you’re doing Sandy, just go for it. Do it and don’t look back.”
She also said that if she could go back to 29 (she’s 31 now) she would have pushed through her fears and went for the things she knew she wanted, and deserved, before departing for her 30s. She couldn’t stress it enough. And I ate it up.