For some reason my mind went to the December of 1999 when the world was on the cusp of a new millenia. Back then 2020s was the future. I was 24, single and, working for an MNC. I remember the hope I carried in my heart like some flame that could not be put out. I woke up in the new millenia feeling like the possibilities were endless. I had mountains to climb and dragons to slay. Twenty two years later, this December, I am looking at the end of the year with the weariness of someone who has climbed mountains and slain dragons. Suddenly, years and dates seem immaterial. What is another number in an arbitrary scheme to mark time?
Is this what they call mid life crisis? I am way past the mid life point though. The weariness I feel comes from realizations that these things I have chased all my life have little meaning in the grand scheme of the Universe. All I want is to hibernate during winter and wake up when the warmth of the Sun can be felt deep in my bones. Is this what aging is? This craving for a state of semi retirement? The need to do absolutely nothing but sleep and eat?
Anyone else feel this way?