Last month I turned forty.
What can I say about being forty years on this planet?
First of all, we really have something inside of us that remains untouched of age, I feel that strongly. I do not feel at all grown up, I still feel like that curious child that wants to understand. At times it seems as if people around are able to live their life as a matter of course and without asking too many big questions while I feel unable to take that role and have to stand outside as an observer who lacks to take actions the same way. On the other hand I feel animated by the detail, by an inner world so vast that the mind is not able to comprehend it. My soul wanders in an endlessly, breathtaking landscape while a little part is focused in this human body. A human body that at times feels like a cage, but if I try to explain myself, I see on the reaction of my counterpart that I failed in using the right words once again.
What does it matter?
I think I am not predestined to get a midlife crisis, as I feel my life has just begun. And I am very curious to tackle the next forty years.
☙