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There Is No Age Limit for Doing Whatever the Hell You Want to Do

Okay. Thats not entirely true. I wouldn’t recommend taking your two-year-old son to a midnight showing of any of the super hero movies currently conquering the box office.

Of course there is the line of reason that shouldn’t be crossed, but once adulthood kicks in — all bets are off.

Which means pieces that aim to give you crummy advice about what needs to be achieved by a certain age — need to be vanquished till kingdom come.

They usually roll out with jarringly insistent headlines that grab your attention at an annoying pace:

Places Every 20-Something Should Travel to Before She Turns 30 -Vogue Magazine

15 Trips To Make Before You Turn 30 -Refinery 29

40 Trips To Take Before You Turn 30 -Business Insider

30 Epic Places You Absolutely Must Visit Before You’re 30-Huffington Post

The last one is my favorite.

Each of these articles seem to be conveying the message of doom for anyone who allows their youth to pass them by before enjoying the blissful contentment of a life well-traveled.

It’s quite clear what you need to do.

You must see the world before you hit the age where everything disappears and you are no longer worthy to explore because you are now too damn old.

That’s bullshit and we know it — so why do we keep permitting age limits to rule our existence?

The notion that there are certain places that only twenty-somethings can fully appreciate in a way that can’t be replicated in their thirties or forties for that matter is obnoxiously misleading.

The irony of it all lies in the fact that most of us can’t even really afford exotic trips to Rio or spontaneous escapades to Thailand or the Swiss Alps until we’re well into our thirties.

My twenties were spent trying to keep my head above water in the city that never sleeps that also kept me tossing and turning every night with the stress of maintaining a roof over my head.

The last thing I could imagine was packing up to travel the globe and beyond even though it would’ve been a welcomed distraction and an awesome way to rock out the fleeting decade of my youth.

But my peers who were lucky to be born into families that were drenched in silver and gold had a vastly different view. They had trust funds and bank accounts that never quit. They could afford to travel at will with the resources that came in the form of birthday gifts or family traditions.

It was also as a result of being adventurous and feeding that thriving curiosity that never goes away.

That insatiable need to step outside your zone into unfamiliar territory isn’t just reserved for the young and younger.

You can be an over-the-hill thirty-something who finally has a stable job and is making decent enough money that propels her to accept the invitation of a friend to come out to Paris for a week.

You can be dangerously close to the Big 4–0 and have an unexpectedly thrilling nightcap under the stars in South Beach after a day of delightful debauchery.

I mean, shit, you can be literally in your forties, single and able to do all the things you couldn’t or wouldn’t when you were in your twenties — and still manage to summon the youthful vigor and zest for life that you’ve always had — because you’re still alive.

I know. Crazy right?

No, as much as we assume it to be so — life doesn’t end at 40. It also doesn’t begin at 40.

It just continues to be everything you make it. It flows in the same direction and with a similar sense of urgency and healthy outlook that fostered your younger years.

If you haven’t been to Europe by the time you’re 30 — that won’t be the end of you. And it’s ridiculous to put a time limit on what to expect out of life when life doesn’t give a flying fuck about your expectations.

Shit happens. And as we all know when we’re dealing with it — the main issue is whether we will be around to do all the things we want to do.

Suddenly, what matters is how we survive the bad times and if we do make it out — how do we intend to honor the gift of a second or third chance.

By living it up!

And we can do exactly that without the ticking clock that emerges every so often — reminding us that life after 30 will never be quite as good or measure up to the intoxicating twenties.

All you need is the years to keep piling up long enough to make you realize the wisdom in the fact that — age is just a number.

When that happens — the world is your oyster — even if you’ve never stepped outside your own backyard.

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