A genuine miracle happens to everyone at midlife.Not everyone recognizes it for what it is, although some do. Others think of it as a 'midlife crisis' and use it as an excuse for getting involved with any number of bizarre or self-destructive behaviors. Many things happen at midlife; not all of them feel good. That boundless stay-up-all-night and work-the-next-day energy starts to fail. Oh, the stay-up-all-night part is still very much there, but the next day's toll grows harder and harder to bear. On the inside, the fountain of enthusiasm that used to carry us through even the worst times starts to run dry. Worst of all, we start thinking back to those 'good old days.'
So, how dare I suggest that midlife brings a miracle, when, for so many people, it can be so painful? It would serve you well to think back on what you know about pain. What's its purpose? Why does an organism like you and me hurt? Both physical and emotional pain have a serious function: they alert us that something's wrong. Pain is the 'smoke alarm' of the body and the mind. Pain warns us that something's not right with us. Yet, when many of us face the pain of encroaching middle age, what do we do? We try to bury the alarm in diversions. When you do that, you kill the messenger without ever listening to the message.
What do you think the pain of midlife is trying to say to you? Are you afraid that it's merely telling you that life's about over, that your career and relationships have run their course, that there's a rocking chair in a rest home with your name on it? What makes the message so fearful that you'd do almost anything not to have to hear it? As always, pain is not the real enemy: fear is. The fear of what's behind that next curtain keeps us wanting to button it shut for good. If you're approaching (or in the throes of) middle age, it's time you got over yourself and went to find out what awaits you.
Behold the miracle! Your angst at midlife signals another transition equal to or greater than the one you faced a puberty. Yet, few people prepare you for it, and even fewer talk sensibly about it. In midlife, you're given the gift of coming into your own. Up until that time, your life has been consumed with satisfying the demands of others: parents, family, society, superiors in all walks of life. You've been used to living up to other people's expectations. Now, slowly, one by one, those expectations and demands begin melting away. For a while, you can continue out of habit to do what you've always done for all the same reasons that you've always done it. Until, that is, you reach midlife, and, suddenly, the old rules begin no longer to apply and there's no one left there to tell you what's the right thing to do. Your focal point moves from outside to inside. And, if you haven't taken the time to explore your insides up until now, you may be dealing with the demands of a total stranger: yourself.
There's the miracle. At midlife you get the gift of being . . . you . . . whoever that person may be. Oh, sure, the fear hangs around you like Spanish moss on a water oak tree, but it's really just the same fear that gripped you when your father let go of you in the water, and you kicked and splashed and . . . floated. Or that thrilling fear you had when he took the training wheels off your bike, and ran along side you until, suddenly, he let go . . . and you rode away. Sure, there were times when you got a mouthful of water and came up sputtering for air; but you knew you could swim. And, sure, there were times when the bike skidded out from under you and you skinned your knee and elbow; but you got back on.
The miracle of midlife — and its gift — is that you get to be your own person to an extent that was never really possible beforehand. I was about forty-five when both my parents died. I walked away from the hospice center with the conviction that I was, in the end, an orphan, and there would never be another who could save me from myself. I no longer needed to live someone else's dream or follow someone else's path. From that point on, it was all mine and I was ultimately responsible for my decisions. There could no longer be anyone to blame for my failures or for my unfulfilled dreams. There it is: at midlife, you get to be you . . . really you. And frankly, I can think of no greater gift.
H. Les Brown, MA, FCC
Copyright © 2008 H. Les Brown
I'm with you 100%. In my book, "Amazing Grays, A Woman's Guide to Making the Next 50 the BEST 50" I too make the point that during this second half of life we have the opportunity to truly step into the person we've become. By allowing the trappings of yesterday to become fodder for the psyche, we are able to create a life that reflects the person we've become.
Posted by: Maggie Crane | Tuesday, July 15, 2008 at 03:23 PM