What a curious time in life. Those of us at
the end of the baby boomer generation, we are all at this point: we have
understood that our life time is finite - the limit of the time horizon is now in
sight. Those of us who had kids are growing out of the parent role, the jury
still being out on whether or not we managed to steer the next generation to
where they need to be for themselves and for the world.
Those of us who had passions and
professions are in a review period. Can we go on working this hard for another
decade or more? Or maybe the economic system has changed, and our business
models and value systems don’t work anymore. But how figure out what is next, how to
reinvent ourselves?
Some of us are utterly lost. What do we do
after kids and without that business model? If you haven’t had kids, how do you
create something that lasts beyond your time? Too late to build a house or
write an opera?
And then, our parents are getting old, or
sick or dying. Many of us are inheriting wealth we didn’t earn from this much
more successful generation before us.
Others are sandwiched between fledgling children and aging parents, or
inheriting an economic or real estate mess, apartments full of books. What if
your parents became demented before you could forgive them for their
screw-ups? Now they need you and you
haven’t even found the peace to love them. I am seeing it all around me.
I see a lot of desperation, sadly, especially
among men. Self-hatred. The feeling of having
wasted time, either having done the same thing for too many years, or doing too
many different things without real focus or depth. Unemployment, boredom, doubt, loss, alcohol. Teenage kids
glued to little screens, farther and farther from the reach of our love. Do we still matter for anyone?
The good news: we know what we know, we
know what we are able to do, and we know what we don’t want. For some of us,
long-term partnerships have not survived this life phase of contemplation and
change…. and we rediscover who we are just by ourselves. Not too bad. The big dream has
died, but the little dreams live on.
We have 15+ years of productive time left.
Enough time to do something different, learn one new thing, try one new system,
change location. A few (lucky ones), manage to fill the remaining time, keep riding
the same professional wave to the end, chin up, and gather applause on the way
out.
More good news: those who don’t have self-doubt,
and are not lost or desperate, not on a wave petering out, actually may now
reach a calm sense of positive expectation, resting on two pillars: trust and
curiosity. I think, at this point in our lives, we cannot ask for more than to
base our lives on a healthy mix of those two sentiments. Trust in ourselves and in our abilities, and
our judgment, and in the basic goodness of the world. Curiosity about what gifts will come our way,
and who will be there with us to enjoy them, and what we can make out of them.
My gifts are so many now: my children, who
are turning into amazing sensitive and sensible people, my parents, who get older
and weirder, yet I am learning to love them and enjoy them in new ways,
appreciating every minute I have with them. My work, which is ever changing and
rich with learning and a team that is growing together and working in sync, in
ways I didn’t even know existed. New
and old friends who provide comfort, companionship and love, and with who I can
look into the darkness and into the light, as we hold and support each other. Stepping
out into the night, breathing the cool air and hearing the rustle of the trees,
feeling that I have had it good.
50. I couldn’t think of a better age.
2 comments:
Nikki,
It's uncanny, the congruences that can arise just from the commonality of age...my experience of 50 is nearly identical despite a great many difference in our lives.
p.s. Poppy pointed me here, and i'm glad she did!
Very nice, although I think you're underestimating the amount of "useful" time a lot of us have: by your reckoning, I've passed it. By my own perceptions, lots more to do in the next 30 or so years. Inevitably, some of it may be curtailed by physical problems, and I'm not about to climb Annapurna now (but then, I wouldn't have at 21, either), but learning to live with your shortcomings isn't limited to us geezers.
Looking forward to talking to you about this soon!
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