So I’ve turned 30. I’ve changed decades.

It’s remarkable really, how little difference it actually makes.

We’ve all done it, we’ve all freaked out at the prospective of getting old. Hell, I did. In June this year, it was made clear that I was freaking out. I’d found a grey hair, I was feeling archaic.

Approaching the big day, I was worried that this was it. This was the end. This was the last time I could enjoy life, feel young (ha!), feel alive.

Looking back, how farcical this really was. It all feels a bit silly. For one thing, nothing ever really changes. Waking up at 30, you don’t age excessively, you don’t lose your hearing or sight, you don’t go a little loopy. Not much changes.

Something amazing DID happen on my birthday though.

When you look at life, it’s so easy to analyse your life based on the following:

• Love Life
• Career
• Money
• Legacy

This is all very well & good, but what being 30 showed me was that whilst 2 & 3 aren’t that important, the 4th doesn’t need to be a physical item.

It’s weird, I’d always thought “Let’s create that book, let’s write that novel”. I still want to do that, but I know it isn’t the be all and end all anymore.

In the end of the day, the most amazing thing is the realisation that you’ve had an effect on someone’s life.

On Friday October 12th, 15 people appeared. From all walks of life, it’s amazing that so many arrived. It was brilliant.

In the end of the day, you might write the worlds greatest novel, you might build a building, when you’re gone, it’s not you they remember but a misrepresentation. Family & friends keep you alive in ways a novel never can.

That’s kind of comforting when you think about it.