Actually, due to the timezone difference (I was born on the East Coast) I turned thirty last night. I'm actually more excited for next year, when I can plan ahead and rent a house for a nice weekend party, and be a complete dork because I'm turning a Mersenne prime.
My birthday present this year came a month ago, when I laid down my burdens and felt okay. Some of it restored a feeling I had after a similar event in 2003, but some of it is completely new, states that are accessible now partly due to age, but mostly due to the Ayurvedic medicine that's done so much over the past year. (I'm still losing weight, with no herbs and without much exercise.) I found my way again, and now I can choose not to worry, and I can play guitar better and write mediocre Zen poetry. Finally, everything is fine, just as it is; I am sufficient for myself. All the things I've always been--quick-thinking, worrying, fearing (it's true, but don't tell anyone or I'll stop getting the chicks), clinging--are still here, but under the command of something deeper and more important. Nothing bothered me about turning 30 that hasn't bothered me since I was 12; and all of that receded to the back of my mind in an hour's lying down in a cold, dark tent.
All your roads
Are just like this one