I don’t think I’ll suffer a midlife crisis. I feel like I went through that when I returned from three years in Brussels and wondering what the hell I was doing back here. No, I’ve crossed that river. So, what’s next, on this the one year before I turn 40? Remembering the feelings I felt walking through Brussels on many a Friday, slumming through the city, turning a corner and knowing what’s there. Sitting at a cafe at 11 in the morning having a beer. Or, wandering through Paris, envious of the people living in those apartments. Or, walking along Avenida Atlantica in Rio, watching the waves crash in and the people lapping up another sun-kissed day. I think there is, for me at least, a freedom of thought, a freedom of being, that cannot be shackled by the vagaries and mundaneness of the everyday. It’s all to easy to be wrapped up in the quotidian. To step outside my here-and-now, and step in a beach, a cafe, a park, and sit still, if only for a moment, and just be. What better birthday present could there be. And it never gets old or worn out.