Slight Panic About Getting Older

Do we become infinitely less interesting as we age? Do we lose our capacity for adventure with each passing year? I have a fear that my days of adventure and intrigue are numbered. If they are, why am I not doing something amazing every day? There is a line in Bright Eyes' Travelin' Song that, for some reason, captures what I am talking about, the could-care-less bad-ass adventure. It is something about parking in an ally and hoping that their shit is safe.

I am such a contradiction. In a way, I wish I could limit my belongings to what would fit in a car and just wander. At the same time, I need to have a home, a community and a sense of place.

I am afraid. I am afraid of growing older, of having regrets, of not seeing everything, of not living up to my potential, of being lost, of losing too much, of missing the people that mean the most to me. I need to harness the fear and use it. I need to stop thinking and act. I need to go skydiving, travel to Thailand, learn Spanish (for real this time), scuba dive with sharks, perform in a dance recital, complete a triathlon, publish a book. I need to get it done.