There was a moment, a few years ago, in Phoenix airport, when I made the decision to walk past the candy kiosk and instead peruse the stand of reading glasses outside the bookstore next door. I believe that was the moment it truly sank in that I might be embarking on middle-age.
I later found myself looking around at the rest of the flight’s passengers to see which other still incredibly young people were wrestling with taking reading glasses on and off. Not many. They all looked old. At least 44. Whereas I was only 41! Practically a child! I wasn’t ready!
Since then, I have gone through a plethora of things-associated-with-middle-age, and my collection of reading glasses has now expanded to approximately two-per-room, plus one in the car. At various times, they all seem to migrate to one room, whereupon I have to locate them and redistribute them. (Middle age is very time consuming.) I am now more forgetful of names and places, and my knees sound like someone eating potato chips with their mouth open. I get panicky if my hand lotion runs low, and 10 extra calories causes 12 lbs of weight gain.
It’s horrifying of course, to realize that your ability to see small things up close has essentially evaporated. But what’s much more interesting/appalling is that you start to evaluate your life. Good lord.
I think there are two reasons for this (at least).
The first is that by now, we finally understand what units of time really are. We can now feel time, not just note its abstract passing. This inevitably leads to the realization that there is relatively little of it, and holy crap, I’ve used half of it up! (Cue panic-buying of sports car).
But, I don’t think it’s a fear of time running out that causes this evaluation as much as a realization that you might not be quite who you thought you were.
Up until middle-age it’s almost like we see ourselves from the outside in. Without consciously doing so, we create our lives in ways that more or less satisfy social or cultural expectations of education, work, family, friendships, living accommodations, even vehicles, and clothing. It’s not that any of it is bad. It just turns out that it’s not always exactly you that decided all those things in your own life.
And then all of a sudden, just about the time when actual myopia sets in, your society-tinted glasses fall off and you begin to see yourself a little more clearly. A bit more authentically. More from the inside out.
It’s all ridiculously unsettling.
Brené Brown calls it ‘an unraveling’. I agree completely. It’s about unlearning all the things you thought your knew about yourself and your place in the world. And then relearning who you are without the cultural props you’ve leaned on over the first half of your life.
I have to come to think of it this way: In the first half of my life, I occupied ‘positions’. These positions were carved out by society and had relatively neat little position descriptions that we could all learn and understand. And that was our job - to understand the way things work. I was a kid, researcher, scientist, friend, wife, adult, manager, step-mom, etc. All fine. I still hold many of these positions.
But, I now see the second half (fingers crossed!) of my life, as more about the ‘how’.
Positions are a ‘what’, and society is oriented around them. Just think when you introduce yourself to someone, you almost always tell them what you do for a living, and how many kids you have or whatever. It’s all very….statistical, somehow. And if we talk about the ‘how’ at all, it’s usually oriented around ‘busy’. Gosh, we’re so busy with the kids’ soccer or school plays, or with my new job, or with the kitchen renovation….
As I move steadily towards the next decade though (still a few years out), I am more inclined to ask myself how I want to show up, how I can enjoy today, how to restore some energy, how to make sure my achy knees can still hike the mountains, and how to reserve time for that, how can I create more wonder and space and peace, how do I surround myself with people who light up something inside me, how do I serve without servitude, how do I create change without judgement, and of course, how do I make lots of money, and finally make decent pastry.
I think the real work of middle age is to create a new foundation - to explore and learn (and then apply) the question of: how do I come home to me?
And then redistribute your reading glasses for the nineteenth time this week.
This one made me cry - with recognition. Thank you for so eloquently putting into words what so many of us intuitively feel...