What I Wish for in My Thirties

I am now thirty-one years old. So the fresh transition from my twenties to my thirties was a year ago. Perhaps the core question of what I want now in my thirties needed this period of time to blossom.

I have today all to myself. Thanks to our maid, the flat has been spotlessly clean since yesterday. I emptied the dishwasher this morning and the letters and notes that usually pile up in the hallway have been filed or thrown away. There are no chores to be done, no work to be done. So I am free to decide what to do with this freedom. The question inevitably arises: What do I want to do now? The following options come to mind:

• indulge in programming, whether as a volunteer or freelancer
• pursue career-advancing training
• do something capitalistically useless to get closer to my dreams

Programming: Passion vs. Securing My Existence

Looking back over the last few years, I rarely asked myself what I should do in such moments. In the vast majority of cases, I decided to code, like an automatism. On the one hand, it fills me with curiosity and creativity. On the other hand, it also allows me to counteract my existential anxiety.

A deep-seated existential fear has been driving me all my life. Sometimes I can deal with it better, sometimes not so well. During my studies, I was able to hide it under the cloak of a strict semester schedule. When I started working as a developer in 2018, it became omnipresent, as my productivity has a direct and indirect impact on my income.

So the question answered itself for me until last year: I had to invest as much time as possible in projects to secure my existence. Be it for human capital (volunteering at GitHub trains me and allows me to expand my portfolio at the same time) or by saving and investing (#pensiongap) freelance and non-self-employed income.

My generalized fear of not being able to cope financially with everyday life or not being able to continue living my calling becomes an (involuntary) motivation that can trigger a strong creative force. In other words: I often succumb to this fear.

There is no shortage of project ideas (proactive for my paid work at Finanzfluss or freelance) or open GitHub issues (voluntary). There is always something to code. Realistically, however, there is no achievable endpoint where all ideas can be implemented. That’s why I find it hard to put down the pen. At what point do I feel secure enough to “allow” myself to pursue other hobbies?

Learning to Take Time Off

I have to define the target parameters myself to determine when I feel confident. Is it the total income, is it the job title, or something else entirely?

Theoretically, I can also invest more as my income grows, so that I can continue to protect myself against unemployment and old age. The imaginary sum of “final protection” would increase endlessly. I can’t rely on this parameter.

I don’t want to rely on job titles. Especially in the development industry, their meaning varies from company to company and sector to sector. Skills need to be constantly re-evaluated – a title doesn’t feel permanent. However, my promotion to Senior Developer this year is a milestone for me as a career changer. Even if it’s just a title, it gives me some stability. I’m also very well integrated into the Finanzfluss team. Overall, I feel more comfortable and secure in my job than ever before.

I no longer want to tweak the target parameters and wait for them to be met. Instead, I want to learn to pause. I want to trust that I can take my raft from the current of securing my existence to the shore without having to fear that the water will dry up or that I could capsize in the rapids as I continue onward.

When Boredom Was Not a Rarity in the Childhood Years

I had one of my first memories of a kind of reflection on the reality of life at the age of eight. For the first time, I realized how a seemingly everyday event could mean something different to another person.

An uncle was visiting my parents. One day, he and I walked out of the village toward the fields. I was quite bored that day, a fact I mentioned to him in a grumpy tone. “I haven’t been bored for a long time,” he said. “I wish I could be bored again.” This was a new perspective for me. So I had something my uncle wanted. Even crazier, the boredom that fed my displeasure was supposed to be something special? In retrospect, I appreciate how much my uncle communicated with me in childlike language and at eye level.

As an adult, I know his view of the whirlpool of everyday life and understand the longing for boredom. I want to learn to feel it anew and to cultivate it. The less the stress of securing my existence grips me, the more boredom will be granted to me. The more boredom, the more I can be playfully creative. That’s what I want.

Balancing Securing My Existence With Leisure

Last fall I was able to pursue my passion for filmmaking. For one long weekend and the following weeks of editing the short film, I was able to let go of coding and let myself go in the creative process:

A family vacation together is rare and limited. The urge to seize the opportunity of the past year, to preserve and capture it, was great. Even if it was unclear during the days whether the shots and a common thread would succeed. I felt free in the process of filming. This is exactly the feeling I want for my thirties: free, creative expression.

On a day like today, I want to learn to free myself from the pressure of securing my existence and instead allow boredom to come. Maybe then I’ll have more room for creativity. Whether it’s filming or, as I’m doing right now, writing. The latter even worked with a bit of momentum.

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That concludes the article. If you spot any typo or would like to share your thoughts on this article, please feel free to get in touch. 🙆‍♂️