Questions I Don’t Want to Ask Myself at 37.

Each year, as I approach another orbit around the sun, I usually try to dwell on the evolution that has quietly taken place within. I think of the places and people I’ve known that year, the experiences that have shaped me, the conflicts I need to resolve.

But this month, as I turned 37, things felt a bit different.

Instead of looking inward, I felt like running away from the questions brewing in my mind, for I knew that the answers – if they exist at all – remain far too illusive. Waking up on a chilly morning in a kathkuni house, surrounded by the snow-clad Dhauladhar and Lahaul ranges, the only thing I wanted was quiet. The quiet of the mountains, of course, but also some quiet in my restless mind.

Also read: Seeking Mindful Hustling, Flow and Joy at 36

So when it came time to reflect on the beginning of my 37th year of life on my blog, I could only think of the questions I’d rather not ask myself:

Will I chase the lure of ‘elsewhere’ even when I’m 40 (and 50 and 60)?

When I moved to Himachal almost two years ago, I could see myself building a slow(er) life here. I learnt to say no a lot more than usual, so I could have lazy mornings in the sun, go on long walks through ever-changing seasons and landscapes, spend afternoons in a neighborhood cafe with a book and tea, and write the things I really wanted to write.

I still got itchy feet, and enjoyed travelling away for a few weeks or months. But I also loved coming back… until I didn’t.

When I returned ‘home’ after three months in the US and Peru, something in me had shifted. My worldview had changed, I had changed. But everything I had come back to was still the same. The walks, the conversations, the food. That happened again after I spent a few weeks in other parts of India. Instead of relishing my return home, I started to feel stuck, like I was a new me trying to be the old me.

With nothing tethering me to Himachal, I can pack up and leave anytime. I can continue to seek the lure of new places. But what happens when I turn 40? And 50 and 60?

Also read: We Travel in Search of What we Need, and Return “Home” to Find it

Will the world ever accept my personal path?

For the first time in life, I really, truly understand why oppressed people wrote poetry with hidden meaning, instead of shouting out their values from the rooftop.

I’ve made plenty of personal choices that don’t align with societal expectations. Over the years, I’ve learnt to pick my battles, accept that I mostly won’t fit in, and luckily even found my tribe. But as the world order becomes increasingly oppressive, I’m feeling fear that I haven’t felt before, atleast not in this measure. These days, I think several times before posting anything controversial on social media, and hit delete more often than I hit publish.

Think this sounds too vague? That’s because this is all I can say right now.

Also read: Turning 34 in Quarantine in the Middle of the Pacific Ocean

Have my travels already peaked?

I remember a stream of tears rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably when I boarded my tiny plane out of Robinson Crusoe Island, off the coast of Chile, where I spent over a month on a travel blogging assignment in 2022. In retrospect, that overwhelming sadness was not just about leaving the island; it was the subconscious realization that this must be the peak of my travel experiences.

I’ve had some epic adventures since, but something feels intrinsically different about travel.

We recently considered going back to slow travel in Turkey, but dropped the idea, fearing that we already experienced it in a more authentic way several years ago. Same with places like Georgia and Vietnam. That makes me wonder, is the best of travelling behind me already?

Also read: Reflections on Life, Travel and Turning 29

How do you fight nature’s inherent patriarchy?

I’ve fought my fair battles to live life on my own terms despite having grown up in a conservative family in small-town India – from choosing to travel alone, to living a fiercely independent life, to defying absurd societal norms for women.

But in recent weeks, I’ve dealt with intense mood swings, and heard from women friends in their late 30s and early 40s that I might be staring at perimenopause.

In my naivete, I had once thought that menopause (despite the hot flushes it brings) would finally put a much-needed end to my painful, inconvenient monthly periods. But as it turns out, the journey from perimenopause to menopause involves a lot more I don’t feel ready for: hormonal changes, inexplicable mood swings, nutritional deficiencies, weight gain, and in some cases, other health complications. All this after suffering every month from puberty to now with monthly cramps and PMS, especially as someone who has chosen to be child-free. If this isn’t nature’s inherent patriarchy, what is? And how does one fight it?

Also read: 25 Things I’d Tell The 25-Year-Old Me

Will existentialism remain my constant state of being?

I suppose I’ve felt existential – aka questioned my purpose of existence – way before I knew the term. In my teen years, the thought invaded my senses. In my twenties, I sought refuge in my travels – but whether it was an escape, respite or search for meaning, I can’t say. Now in my thirties, I sometimes think that the life of freedom I’ve built for myself is also a cage. 

I was relieved to learn this isn’t an original thought. In the 20th century, French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre made a groundbreaking contribution to the philosophy of existentialism with the idea that we are “condemned to be free.” I wouldn’t want to trade my freedom for anything, but does that mean I’ll never be able to trade this cage either?

What are questions you’d rather not ask yourself right now?