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When I turned 30 about 10 years ago, a friend who was already 40 said to me, “30 is a great age! Life begins at 30!”
I was very encouraged to hear this because, frankly, I had been waiting for my life to begin. My birthday came and went and I waited… then it was the Spring… and then it was the Summer and then it was my birthday again and I was still waiting… well… you get the point.
Waiting for life to begin is like waiting for “Waiting for Godot,” the Samuel Beckett, “tragicomedy” in which two characters wait for someone named Godot, who never arrives. In the play, during their two days of waiting, the pair of men divert themselves with various distractions such as eating, sleeping, arguing, singing, playing games, exercising, exchanging hats and contemplating suicide — anything “to hold the terrible silence at bay,” they say.
Voted the most significant English language play of the 20th century in a British Royal National Theater poll of 800 playwrights, actors, directors and journalists, “Waiting For Godot” won such prestigious accolades because it spoke to a spiritual conundrum that many people face and pointed out the human tendency to occupy ourselves with distractions in order to avoid the real work that needs to be done when we take full responsibility for our lives.
