The Xennial Halfway Point: 48 in a World of Transformations

Today I turned 48. No big celebration, no confetti, no Spotify playlist curated just for me—just another rotation of Earth. And that’s exactly how I like it. I’m not one to make a big deal out of birthdays. But two years from now, I’ll be turning 50—Abraham in Dutch culture.

That feels like a milestone worth honoring. Not with loud parties or champagne pyramids, but with stories. Shared memories. Moments of wisdom swapped among family and friends like rare trading cards.

Fifty feels like a halfway mark though longevity runs a bit spotty in my family. Some left early, some are still cruising in their seventies. I’ll take every day I can with my wife, my kids, and the extended tribe we call family. That’s my fuel.

But back to today. Here’s the irony: even on a random Tuesday like this, the world kept distracting me in the most fascinating ways. I had so many ideas I wanted to write down for today’s journail, but—as always happens when inspiration hits—I had no way to capture them. I was inside a social housing corporation—one of our clients—waiting for a meeting when I had one of those mind-spark moments. Three thoughts. I initially remembered two. That’s progress.

Posters from the Future, Toilets from the Present

The first thought hit me while staring at a strange piece of signage. Not a billboard. Not paper. Definitely not old-school mechanical scrolling. This was a digital screen, but not like any screen I’d seen before. It looked like paper. A living canvas. Digital, yes, but analog in spirit. We’re living in the future, I thought—but not in the sci-fi neon overload way. It was subtle. Quietly present.

Earlier, on my way to the client, I spotted a big-ass digital billboard. It was blasting an ad for a scheduled TV show. Not streaming. Not on-demand. Just plain ol’ “Tune in at 8pm.” My brain did a double take. Are we… back in time? Who even watches things live anymore, except for maybe football? I found it oddly charming—and maybe wildly inefficient. Still, someone’s paying billboard rent for that time slot.

That same billboard flashed a weather update and digital clock too—but ridiculously small. Made me wonder if I’m the one getting old (I am), or if someone just forgot to scale their UX properly.

Later, back inside the office, I went to use the toilet, and that sparked the second thought. One toilet. For everyone. One stall, lock the door, that’s it. But within it, clever design: urinal for the guys, seated toilet for all, support bars for folks with disabilities. No gendered signs. No awkwardness. Just function over form. Efficient. Inclusive. Simple.

And that, strangely, felt like a symbol of how the world can change in smart ways. Not shouting about it. Just doing it.

No Degree Required to Transform the World

The third thought finally bubbled back. It had something to do with a LinkedIn post I saw. It was about credentials—or the lack of them. That genius doesn’t need a PhD. That great things are often created by people who weren’t validated by official institutions. The example was Alec Radford, one of the brains behind GPT-1.

See, I never finished my degree. I went to what we call in the Netherlands an “HBO”—higher professional education, not to be confused with the American streaming service with dragons and mafia bosses. I dropped out before getting the paper. And yet, here I am: crafting AI strategies, managing products, and building visions.

It’s not a rejection of education. It’s just a reminder that life’s path is rarely linear.

From Xennial to Transformer: Life Measured in Eras

There’s this little-known microgeneration called the Xennials. I’m one of them. Born in 1977, I’ve stood on the fault lines of transformation my entire life.

We were the kids who went from rotary phones to smartphones. From floppy disks to neural networks. From playing outside to living online. I’ve lived through the change from guilders to euros, from classes to “groups” in primary school, from dial-up to fiber, from the before-times of pre-AI to now having conversations with a digital companion that writes down my thoughts better than I ever could.

That’s the weird part. The staggering amount of transitions we’ve lived through. It feels like we’ve seen more eras in a single generation than some people saw in centuries.

I don’t say that to sound grand. I say it because it’s exhausting. And exhilarating. And humbling. And at times, disorienting. And I guess that’s the theme of today’s journal.

The Real Transformation: From Drive to Devotion

If you really want to know what’s transformed the most in 48 years—it’s not the tech, the gender norms, the work culture, or even the toilets.

It’s me.

I used to be singularly focused on work. Achievements. Goals. Hustle. That engine still runs. But it no longer drives me.

Now? I’m driven by love. For my wife Ruth. For all my kids. For my parents. For my friends. So yeah, maybe 48 isn’t a flashy number. But it’s quietly profound. Like that digital poster outside the window: barely noticeable, but still glowing.