Years ago, when I was still under 20, the feeling of aging was not so significant. In my mind, when the first digit of my age was still "1", 16 and 19 did not feel extremely different. During those teenage years, I only cared about exploring new adventures, becoming more successful, attention and understanding from others, to the point where I realized I did not know myself in the first place, let alone understand others.

Time went by and when I turned 20, reality hit me so hard. Someone told me there was a huge difference between being 19 and being 20. I never understood what that person meant till the moment I became 20. Almost one and a half years ago, I wrote about the emotional turmoil I was deeply immersed in as a 20-year-old. Somewhere at the beginning of my 20s, I found myself lost in the hustle and bustle of life, when I chose to move fast because everybody else around me did the same thing. To the extent that breaking free was the only thing I wanted to do, I stopped and realized how long I had abandoned this young body, mind and soul that I was too lucky to have.

At 20, I was lost on the journey I put myself on four years previously. Being a high school senior then usually stirred up the demon of jealousy in my heart. It was not easy watching my peers facing some real life issues in the midst of their college life while I was not even sure of my path for college.

At 20, I believed so much in fate and destiny that I tried too hard looking for the reasons for every single thing that had happened. I spent hours, days and nights, weeks, months and years thinking about the past and future. Unknowingly, I let too many present moments pass away without fully living in them.

Then 21 knocked on my door and my 21st birthday felt like any another day. The feeling of turning 21 is very vague in my memory. All I remember is how things were still dragging from my mid-20s to mid-21. Emotions fluctuated more. Saying goodbye happened more frequently. I exhausted myself with four part-time jobs/commitments during the longest holiday of my life. There was a lot of time to rest but I was too caught up with making money. People came and went. Some returned but many others never did. It was a time of confusion in a troubled heart.

I started college when my 21st year of life was almost over. The fresh journey in a new country excited me although I was aware of my own fears and the uncertainty of many things. Maybe because it was just the very first semester, maybe I already knew what it really meant by "burning out in extreme stress," or maybe Monroe didn't have the usual hustle and bustle that wrecked my nerves, the last few months of my 21 flowed by peacefully yet eventfully in its own way.

Standing on the boundary between 21 and 22 when I'm typing this, I give myself a pat on the shoulder for getting through all the hard times with lessons learned and gratitude. Because hey, hell happened many times but glimpses of heaven came once in a while too. I'm glad that I made the right choices at every turning point of my life. I'm grateful for the experience gained from struggles; the opportunity to leap from one place to another for traveling and living; the random, exciting, joyful, painful but meaningful human encounters; and most importantly, the karma that pulls me back to what I really want to strive for: the reason why I live (or at least it's what I live by throughout my 20s).

For another year with mindfulness, gratitude and clarity to deal with more challenges, with my heart and soul more open to understand what it feels like to be alive every moment, with courage to go forward and grow or go inwards to listen, with patience and compassion to love and see through words or actions. Cheers!

Back to reality--I'm already 22 LMAO!