Happy Birthday #30
Taking a Stand
Dearest friends and loved ones,
‘Eighty-four to ‘Fourteen, tenth month and seventeen. Birthday of a decade here… the Big Three-Oh.
Everyone always asks: “do you feel any different now that you’re thirty?” “Is it weird not to be in your twenties anymore?”
And when I say “everyone always asks,” I actually mean that people around the world have been thinking about this for literally thousands of years. Not to get all fortune cookie on you guys, but there is a bit of ancient Chinese wisdom — a genuine morsel of “Confucius say” — that seeks to explicate the significance of turning thirty. From the Confucian Analects:
“吾十有五，而志于学。三十而立，四十而不惑，五十而知天命，六十而耳顺，七十而从心所欲，不逾矩”
JR copyright-pending translation: “At fifteen I was dedicated to study. At thirty, I stood. At forty, I was without doubt. At fifty I knew the will of heaven (JR: or perhaps, ‘I knew my calling’). At sixty, my ears were open. At seventy, I followed my heart, yet with propriety.”
“At thirty, I stood” is actually the most well-known and most oft-quoted phrase of the whole passage, yet is arguably the least concrete, least specific. What does it mean, to “stand” at thirty?
The conventional interpretation is that “to stand” is to be independent; to be self-sufficient; to have grown into adulthood and no longer require the assistance of coddling parents or social welfare. At thirty, it is assumed, a man should have grown into his own, he should stand erect on his own two feet. Because the Chinese character for “stand” (立) can also mean “to be established” (as in a business or career) there is generally an implicit assumption of financial independence, as well.
The conventional interpretation is empowering. It suggests that with age comes autonomy, and the resources to exercise that autonomy.
And indeed, at thirty I do find myself quite empowered. I enjoy a highly autonomous lifestyle with enough flexibility and mobility to allow me to do pretty much whatever I want, wherever I want, whenever I want. I am self-employed, financially independent, no kids, no mortgage; I am beholden — it would seem — to no one.
And yet.
And yet there is another interpretation of 三十而立, an alternate view of “standing,” that would suggest a less self-centered view.
The following explication comes from the Talmud-like annals of 百度百科：
子所说的”三十而立”中的”立”不能理解为“成家立业”。子曰：“不知礼，无以立”。因此三十而立应该理解为“三十而知礼”。
JR copyright-pending translation: “The ‘stand’ that Confucius refers to should not be understood as the establishment of a family and career of one’s own. [In another passage], Confucius declares: ‘without awareness of social protocol, a man cannot stand.’ Therefore, the phrase ‘at thirty, I stood’ can be properly read as ‘at thirty, I knew how to act in society.”
I take some liberty in this translation of 知礼, which is more often rendered as a knowledge of “etiquette” or “ritual.” But diction aside, I believe that the essence of this interpretation lies in a broader, more global sense of “standing”: an expansion from the individual to the social, and an emphasis not on autonomy and empowerment, but rather on duty and obligation.
Yes, at thirty I have achieved a free lifestyle of my own, but surely that freedom does not grant me exemption from the protocol (read: the legitimate demands) of society; on the contrary, society should expect more from me now as an empowered adult than as a fledgling youth.
While these two interpretations reflect different aspects of standing, I do not think they are contradictory, and I’m not going to peg myself to either one. Rather, in this — as in all things — a balance must be sought: a balance between youth and maturity, independence and obligation, action and reflection.
These balances are elusive, and dynamic. At thirty, I can no longer believe that I am beholden to none, and I feel compelled to devote a greater portion of myself to the broader social good; and yet I also know that deep down I am not an activist, feel no guilt about my relative privilege, and haven’t the slightest desire to work the soup kitchen circuit or dig latrines for the poor and huddling masses.
But wherever the true balance may lie, it is undeniable that I am feeling the pendulum swing: from the noble but inexhaustible pursuit of self-examination (to which these annual letters are testament), toward a greater awareness of others and greater action on their behalf.
How far will this pendulum swing? What gains in the human cause will be achieved? How long before the harsh reality of the modern world sends me scuttling back to the comforts of introspection?
Only time will tell, dearest friends: these are secrets that only future birthdays can reveal.
In the meantime, we go onward and upward and outward — blessed with a happy life and inspired by a broader world in which to live it.
And as always, I am reminded of how much of that happiness and inspiration comes from you, my beloved sisters and brothers, those on whose shoulders I have learned to stand.
If you’ve made it this far in the letter, take a moment more perhaps and write back to share what you think it means to “stand.” Enlighten me with your thirty-thoughts and enliven me with your well-wishes.
I am thinking of you all and sending love your way.
Jonathan
