Jesus Years

All I ever wanted for the longest time was to own a home, have a good job, a happy relationship, and maybe someday a family. Before my 30th birthday, I mostly got what I wanted.

Now all I want is to be in transit, untethered, on the way to far away. I want to buy a camper and make my way through 48 states. I want to hike alone. I want to be out of cell service range for hours or days and not freak out. I want people to forget exactly what I look like so the next time I’m around, I have room to be different, somebody new. I want to have learned that home is inside me, not a place, and that you can’t run away from yourself, not even in national parks. I want to have learned who I am–whatever that means–and that identity is nebulous and shifting forever. I want to be good at solitude and better at yoga.

Jesus started his work at 30, and so will I, and by 33 I’ll have shaken things up, too, a little. Then you can nail me back on the cross of homeownership and romantic love, and I’ll know what I’m in for.