When I was a teenager, then a twenty-something, I thought middle age—or (gasp) older—was an absolutely dreadful place to be. Like many younger adults, I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I knew better. I was always right. I did things the best way. Older people were out of touch.
I don’t want to be younger, nor do I look back at my own life or the younger beings around me with envy. I like where I am. I will even go to the mat and say I think middle age is the best part of life—after the crisis part, of course, if you are “lucky” enough to have a midlife crisis at all.
I’m 45. To some, that sounds like “only 45?” and to others it might sound like “45??? Gulp.”
The crisis was the worst and best part of coming to terms with life on life’s terms and with who I am. Not everyone will have one, and many who do will not change. With that aside, I believe that even without one, midlife is an awesome part of life.
The best thing is a combination of experience and health. If you reasonably take care of yourself, you can be fairly healthy during midlife. With almost 30 years of driving and workplace experience, these years are a sweet spot of cruising with confidence through otherwise tricky or unknown areas. There is no major physical decline yet, combined with good reflexes, memory, and the ability to pick up and respond to life’s surroundings.
By middle age, most people (not all, of course) are financially comfortable. There are fewer worries about paying bills, less interest in having more, staying fashionable, or climbing the ladder. It allows me to live and work with comfort. I’m old enough to be taken seriously, experienced enough to understand life and work dynamics, and still young enough to switch on a dime to learn new programs, policies, software, and phone apps.
Aside from my farsightedness slightly declining each year at my annual optometry visit, I’m in the best physical health of my life. I’ve learned to make sleep important, exercise a routine part of life, and make wise food decisions for the sake of my health.
Mental hygiene takes a front seat as well. I’m no longer embarrassed about having human responses to stress and pressure, so I don’t pretend they don’t exist. I take an active stance in dealing with those things. I no longer view self-care or downtime as a reward or something reserved for others, but as a necessity to keep myself fresh, healthy, and useful to society.
Speaking of embarrassment, caring about what other people think just isn’t a thing anymore. I’m not afraid to be myself or of failing. I know it’s a part of life, and if anyone else judges that, it’s none of my business. As long as my intentions are pure, I have nothing to hide or be ashamed of. I actually enjoy realizing when I’ve messed up or been wrong—it feels good to acknowledge that to myself and to others.
I have enough years of cooking experience to cobble things together from my pantry that taste phenomenal. I try all kinds of art projects I would have once felt like a poser attempting. I love the way I dress, decorate, garden, clean, cook, love others, and live my life. I have go-to recipes, outfits, and ways to entertain that work. I am comfortable with the skills I have and aware of my limitations in the skills I don’t. I am completely okay with what I lack. No one can have everything.
When it comes to taking risks, I am excited to try new things. What’s the worst that can happen if I don’t like it? I just won’t do it again.
I believe I can now live life with a good balance of safety and risk. Being young is often accompanied by an irrational sense of invincibility. I see many older people living with too much fear of too many things. I might get to that point too, but right now I know I do not like the way fear feels. It makes me feel small and trapped rather than safe. Instead of succumbing to it, I live safely in my actions but am courageous enough to push through what a rational mind knows will be okay. That was not my experience in my younger days.
There is so much more to say, but I’ll stop here. Honestly, the midlife crisis and coming into what Richard Rohr calls “the second half” is what brought me to a really beautiful place where acceptance of what is is how I want to live. It was about 8–10 years of chaos, and something for another blog.
I do not know better. I am absolutely not always right. There are so many ways to do things, and different ways work for different people. Older people have wisdom, and our elders are our teachers.
So I will ride the tides and adjust the sails instead of fighting the waves and expecting days of perfection. And I will enjoy this moment—which will pass too—where I am grateful to be healthy and middle-aged.
Namaste.
Thanks for taking the time to read. I’d love to hear your thoughts!
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