I turned 30

March 14 was my 30th birthday, and as one might expect, I experienced it with a measure of solemn significance. I'd been aware of this looming milestone for a while, and the last few months or so of my personal twentiesdom- months in which I'd always promised myself I'd write my first novel, direct my first movie, and oversee the first release of the open source software project that brings operating system and data management bliss to the masses- crept up on me really quickly and were suddenly gone without much to show for them in the way of those particular accomplishments.

Anyway, I made it to 30, and while the dreamer in me has not yet accomplished those dreamer's milestones, I've come to terms with his role in my life.

He's always been there, and (hopefully) always will be, but that guy tends to overlook the forest for the trees. While I may not be on the verbatim career path laid down by Steven Spielberg, Steve Jobs, or Stephen King, I've actually got more than any mass-market dreamer could ever hope for.

Frankly, I have to get down on my knees and thank God- or whomever- for the fact that I've got a wonderful family, a wonderful wife, the best friends anyone could dream of, and a pretty darn good job.

If that's not a foundation for meaningful happiness for someone who's just turned 30, then it's time to re-evaluate the criteria.

To simplify: I am truly blessed with everything I could possibly hope for in this world.

I view my thirties as an opportunity to leverage that fact to feed the dreamer.