A dear friend of mine who has been battling infertility for two years, wrote a hopeful and moving piece about her thoughts and feelings about turning 30 tomorrow.

She is an amazing woman who has taught me so much about deep empathy and love, and I wrote a letter to her in response, which I’ve posted with amendments below.

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Sweet Friend,

Your piece reminds me of the poet Mary Oliver and her question:

‘Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?’

The turning of years and, particularly, decades is hard. But, it is also a gift.

We snap out of the daily treadmill to reassess our lives, our selves, our relationships and make commitments to being better at all three. To being, as you said, more conscious of and present to watching the seasons change, as they do more swiftly every year.

I remember being overwhelmed at the thought of turning 30, and yet it has been my happiest decade thus far, even though I spent years of it paralyzed or blinded by or recovering from my medical condition, and being told that we would never be able to have a biological child.

My 30s taught me, to quote Mary Oliver again (from her poem “The Uses of Sorrow”):

‘Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.’

It’s difficult to imagine while in the tunnel of challenging times, but hardship holds the possibility of many unexpected and wonderful gifts. I have developed deep roots and a more solid foundation because of the dark times. Those times have also brought me closer to God, my husband, and family. I have experienced a joy with them that I never thought possible in my 20s, when I was estranged from both God and family, and had given up hope on finding my soulmate.

In my 30s, I have found myself caring less about what other people think my life should be like, and becoming more interested in building a life that I am proud of, with the cards I have been dealt. None of us have been given a full deck, but – as any gambler or mystic will tell you – what matters is what we do with what we’ve been given.

As I approach 40, the spiritual mid-point of life, I find myself thinking about my life thus far. I have fallen short in so many, many ways, yet without this pause for reflection and questions I would not be able to change going forward.

As the seasons turn again, as they must, does the good I have done with my life outweigh the bad? How can I become a more compassionate and giving person? How have I benefited or harmed people and the world around me?

I think about the countless blessings I’ve been given, and remember “to whom much is given, much is expected” (Luke 12:48). How do I give back even more to those whom I love and to those whom I don’t know but who have a right upon me by virtue of being neighbors, community members, or, simply, fellow human beings?

How do I become the best daughter, sister, wife, mother (God willing), and person that I can be? What qualities do I need to cultivate within myself to remain grateful, patient, and optimistic in good times and bad?

As my parents grow older and the shadow of mortality lies more clearly upon them, they too, like yours, are more easily moved to tears and emotion. Their voices catch just looking at us or at their grandchildren. They weep, filled with love, in prayer and long prostration. How do I love, serve, and honor them with all my heart and soul before the parting that is sure to come to each of us, sooner or later?

The change of a decade is difficult, but it is also gift, if we choose to see it as such. A reminder that this life is precious – so very, very precious – but that it can slip through our fingers if we are heedless. A reminder that a well-lived and -loved life is one spent in conscious discovery of and in service to something greater than ourselves.

May the road ahead be made easy for you, and may you too realize the hidden but universal truth: that within distress resides comfort, and beside darkness, an always greater light.

May your 30s be filled with great love, light, joy, & peace for you, your husband, your little ones to come, God willing, and your families and friends.

May you build a life and soul so vast and beautiful that it fills all those around you with radiant love and peace.

Happy birthday, my dear friend!

Love you,
Baraka

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If you feel so moved, please share your wisdom and experiences on turning a year’s or decade’s corner too.