I’m writing this more than a week after my actual birthday. My intention was to finish it on my birthday, after starting with a morning sweat lodge. However, I woke up with a cold and ended up sleeping most of the day away, so I did pretty much nothing.
And the thing is, I didn’t mind. I clearly needed the rest. Nor did I plan anything else around my birthday either—no parties or celebrations. People wished me well, which I appreciated. But I didn’t feel the need to put pressure on them to see me on my terms. I know I’ll inevitably see those close to me in due time.
My carefree attitude might stem from getting older and ‘getting over’ birthdays, but I think it’s something else — contentment. I’ve been making an effort lately to smell the roses — and I’m not just referring to those in the backyard. I mean everything that’s flourishing in my life.
Following the death of Liam Payne (former One Direction band member), a friend and I had a conversation about success and happiness. While we usually correlate the two, these tragic stories about those who appeared to “have it all” leave us in doubt. Another example is James Packer (Australian billionaire), who recently did a tell-all interview about his struggles with his mental health and addiction.
We arrived at the topic of hedonic adaptation. To quote old dependable Wikipedia, it’s defined as the “observed tendency of humans to quickly return to a relatively stable level of happiness (or sadness) despite major positive or negative events or life change.” I began to reflect on how, after some big changes for the better – getting a secure full-time WFH job, starting youth work and a counselling business on the side, increasing income, and moving from an apartment to a big house – I’ve started to drift back to baseline.
I’ve even started to look for the “next thing” – be it something to buy or a task to tick off my list. Both have their place but aren’t to be relied upon. As I’ve always said, happiness is an inside job. Hence, I’ve been taking the time to slow down and take stock. Because honestly, a few years ago, I would never have imagined being where I am now.
This isn’t just something I’m saying for dramatic effect. The proof is page after page of my old journals. There are also blog posts like How Failing Feels – which I wrote when I was 30, recently unemployed after being let go, newly diagnosed with ADHD, unconfident and utterly lost.
I don’t mean to get sad and soppy, but it’s important to look back now and then. When we’re so fixed on the future, it’s easy to forget how far we’ve come.
Speaking of distances travelled, I did complete the Camino De Santiago this year! Out of 700km, I walked 90%, losing some days to weather, allergies, and bed bug bites. I wrote about it in my 36th birthday post and am also working on a big summary of the trip, but I’ll touch on it here anyway.
I returned home feeling strong and capable, as would be expected. But also richer as a person – having seen so much more of the world, particularly in terms of history. On one side of the experience, walking amongst barren landscapes and ancient ruins, I felt small and insignificant under the weight of impermanence.
On the other hand, being in Sigmund Freud’s (London) and Anne Frank’s (Amsterdam) homes amongst lines of people who admire their achievements was inspiring. These experiences proved that there are no limits on the impact a single person can have on the world. In some ways, it is possible to live forever.
Unfortunately, the impact isn’t always one for the greater good. Visiting Sachsenhausen Internment Camp (Germany) and the Communist Museum (Prague) left me with a sinking feeling in my stomach. While I knew of these darker periods of history, physically being there was something else completely.
That part aside, I really enjoyed meeting people from around the world. It’s a cliche, but while doing something like the Camino, you appreciate how much we all have in common. People wear their hearts on their sleeves and will happily tell you, for better or worse, what brought them to the Camino and what they hope to get out of it. We were lucky to sync up with another group of young people, seeing them over a few stops. But there were some people with whom we walked together for a few hours before saying goodbye for good!
In terms of the walking itself, some people were super fit, some not as much, but there’s no comparison. I’m happy to admit that I got humbled over and over again – starting from day 1, where the hill climb is the hardest of the entire track! As others kindly shared with me, it’s about going at our own pace, one step at a time, while taking care of yourself – an apt analogy for life.
That said, in my 36th birthday post, I mentioned quality of life. Well, one of my takeaways from the Camino was not around comparison but rather inspiration. I met people of older ages, like our walking buddy Bruno, who was 60, but as fit as people half his age! It’s motivated me more to stay as healthy and active as I can, hopefully returning to complete the other Camino routes.
Apart from that, I can’t put a finger on any sort of epiphanies. The Camino was confirmation I’m on the right path. I need to keep doing what I’m doing. I did have the plan to work on my counselling business, which I have done. I’ve launched Therapy With Ricky! I wanted to put my counselling services out there with better market positioning while I keep Boy Under the Bridge as a creative and personal project.
I’ve always explained the “Boy” in my alias as a reference to my inner child. This is something else that’s been on my mind lately, given that I’m closer to 40 than I am to 30. It leaves me feeling adrift between ‘young adult’ and ‘middle age’. Sometimes, I look back at old journals or even through my first book, Living in Cream, and reminisce about the dreamer, creative, and jester in me.
Maybe it is because I am older and work more than the average person, but I’ve become so serious and locked in. I’m wondering if it is possible to grow older while staying connected to these sides of myself. Or are they ultimately for time to take, like the hairs on my head?
Hmm. Since I don’t have an answer, I’ll end with a little story.
I was on my way to see The Ghost Inside, a band I’ve known since 2011. Their lyrics have always had a positive fist-swinging pick-me-up effect on me. I even printed lyrics (see below) in my journal before I left to spend a year in Tonga when I was 26. Well, I finally got the chance to see them live. On the way, I passed a store with collectables and vintage items and felt a unexpected pull to go in…
I walked out with a ninja turtle figure similar to the ones I had as a child. Rapahel, the red one to exact. He was always my favourite, seeing elements of myself in his character – mischievous and an underdog. I’ve put him by my desk next to my PC, I’ve recently started jumping on some of the old games I used to play. My ninja turtle is my reminder to play and to take a break from being an adult now and then while I work towards my goals.
So far, these are to finish my write-up about the Camnio, keep writing my second book, Home, record more podcast episodes, and develop my counselling business and ability as a practitioner. This year, I’ve teamed up with Strong Space Counselling to do after-hours sessions. I’ve been seeking the opportunity to work with and learn from others rather than just flying solo, so this is a great development. In my youth work role with Lighthouse, I’m looking forward to a road trip to the 12 Apostles using funds I raised through my Camino. Also, as the young people head towards 18, it will be quite special to see them off into adulthood.
Thank you for reading. Enjoy some photos below.
