Just last week, my friends and I were reminiscing about the good old days. The good old days when we were teenagers. The good old days when we were in our twenties. The good old days when we were so full of hope, so full of energy, so full of ourselves.
Suddenly, we are 30. And none the wiser.
Back then, we were caught up with work and making money. We were caught up with dating and finding true love. We were caught up trying to discover who we are. We were caught up in search of the meaning of life.
And we realise, with a kind of wry and sardonic wisdom, how little we knew then, how little we know now. The banalities of daily living continue to occupy us, continue to elude us.
Money and love and life? They are way too over-rated.