This is how I should view my world… until I’m 34 that is!

… and also known as the ‘Christ age’, apparently the happiest and most self assured I’ll ever be. If you don’t believe me check out my evidence…

http://www.hlntv.com/article/2012/03/29/33-happiest-age-year

http://newsfeed.time.com/2012/03/29/survey-people-arent-happiest-until-they-reach-age-33/

… sketchy, I know, but good enough.

The thinking is, at this age, I’m old experienced enough to trust myself, my judgement and my abilities whilst still young and energetic enough to put this to some use. It’s also supposed that I have everything I want or, at the least, I’m content with what I do have and where I am.

Hmmmmm.

It’s hard to debunk this with any real fervency.

I can’t deny my confidence… but this didn’t suddenly bubble over on Friday (the mark of my 33 years)… it’s been simmering away for a few years now as I’ve tried my hand at new things, failed, succeed or coasted on mediocrity.

Likewise, I can’t dismiss all the things I have (material or otherwise) as this would amount to a level of  shameless shortsightedness that I know I grew out of circa 15. No more do I pine for what others have. Mine is just as good and quite often better [for me].  However, this doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped aiming for more. It’s the nature of my beast.

So what of this happiness stuff?

I’m sure David Cameron would be pleased to know that I am very happy, with several aspects of my life, but this is something I realised way before turning 33.  You have to pause and appreciate just how happy you really are. We spend a great deal of time lamenting the things we don’t have, the opportunities we’ve missed or the friends we’ve lost, and this robs us of the freedom to consider the things we do have, the chances we’ve taken and the people that remain in constant support of who we are and what we do.

I’ve never been the ‘oh no I’m getting old…’ type. It smacks too much of selfishness when so many others will never see the years’ that I’ve enjoyed but I, like so many others, have grumbled at never having ‘enough’. So maybe, as the ‘Christ age’ would suggest, this is my revelation; having made it to 33, in tact and happy, clearly I’ve had more than enough to see me through. The rest that has been, and the rest that is to come, is simply a bonus!