Turning middle-aged

I turned 35 today and gave myself the gift of time—to pause, reflect, and write 600 words about reaching this milestone called middle-age.

I can fully accept, without regret or struggle, that my body has passed its natural peak. Training for a half-marathon or pushing myself harder in exercise would certainly make me fitter than ever, but the credit would go to my mind for its ability to will my body into exertion. Honest acceptance of my limits - mental, physical, emotional - now comes more easily than in my seemingly invincible twenties. This triumph, too, is of the mind, which remains sharp in learning new things and is reaching a new peak in connecting prior knowledge to uncover deeper meaning.

Suddenly, I find myself thinking more about human mortality, a reflection of the growing number of family, friends, colleagues, and acquaintances with greying hair and wrinkled faces. This awareness that an active life isn't endless has nudged me to embrace care tasks I once despised and to focus more on the quality of my food, air, sleep, and daily routines.

The perception of limited time in the world also changes the twenty-year-old's wanderings into the thirty-year-old's journey. This journey isn't along a straight path, nor does it have an exact destination, but it is a clear shift from the Brownian motion of youth. Now, life feels like it's moving forward, not just sideways or in expanding circles.

This journey has also brought with it a deeper sense of meaning. It’s difficult to say whether purpose fuels the journey or the journey uncovers purpose, but the distinction matters less than the recognition that meaning exists. What’s more important is moving beyond the notion that all values are relative. At 35, I no longer see morality as entirely subjective - some principles hold more weight than others. While there may still be disagreements, I believe that in most situations, intellectually honest and courageous people will converge on what is truly right.

It’s also become clear to me why we must fight for the right causes. The world is shaped by the marketplace of ideas, and if we remain silent, we lose ground, and our causes fade away. Some of these causes are so fundamental to our existence and well-being that, though abstract, they surpass even the importance of our own self. Fighting for such ideas makes me feel like Nietzsche's famous lion, or like Arjuna on the plains of Kurukshetra.

Yet, in the midst of these battles, another truth emerges: the relentless compression of time. The past few years have flown by in a blur, and with so many parallel pursuits vying for my attention, it has been easy to slip into a vortex of busy-work. To break out, I’ve had to prioritize ruthlessly. Sadly, the first sacrifice on this altar of prioritization was leisure. Unstructured time - moments not optimized for outcomes - was the first to disappear from my calendar. While this boosted productivity and multitasking, it came at a cost: my creativity and psychological well-being. Now, ironically, I find myself scheduling time for inefficiency, hoping to rekindle the creative space I once took for granted.

My final realizations at this onset of middle-age are of force-multiplication through compounding and collaboration. All my long-term consistent habits (like diet, writing and learning) and focus areas (like family, relationships and money) have resulted in satisfying outcomes, a result of the fabled 1% principle. Whenever I am faced with a difficult problem, I either consistently devote time to solving it or I partner with like-minded and culturally aligned people to create leveraged impact.

With deep gratitude and uncompromising faith in the universe, I seek your blessings and good wishes as I step forward into an exciting future.