Mid-life crisis ormid-life courage?
Catherine Lawson
When I was in my mid-teens, a friend’s mum, at the age of 45, took up skateboarding and started wearing T-shirts with slogans like ‘When in doubt, shred it out,’ emblazoned across her back. Around the same time, a neighbour, renowned for being a ‘bad tempered so-and -so,’ retired unexpectantly and promptly put fliers through every door in the street to advertise his first gig as a stand-up comic. I honestly had no idea what was going on. It seemed as if everyone of a certain age was doing things which were completely out of character. ‘Crisis’ was the word on everyone’s lips.
What I’ve now come to realise, however, as I embrace my own middle years, is that it’s a time of life that brings with it a greater sense of self. Those things which seem completely out of character when observed from afar are actually a rite of passage; a glorious moment in life when we get to do the things we’ve always wanted to do and be the person we’ve always wanted to be. It’s a time when we once again tap into the things which light up our soul and make us feel alive.
Let’s face it, by the time we hit our 40s and 50s we’ve put in some long, hard years with enough twists and turns to get to the point where we can, with greater confidence, start to show up in the world differently. It’s as if all the things we experience in the first half and all the roles we play (daughter, friend, colleague, wife, boss, mother…), are there to show us who we truly are so that we can head into the second half with the courage we need to live more authentically. It’s a hard-earned courage which allows us to care less about what others think, to express our creativity, to explore new horizons and to have some straight-up fun. All the things that we encourage our kids to do suddenly become the things we apply in our own lives too; the things which somehow got lost along the way.
It’s also, of course, the point at which we realise there are more years behind us than there are in front of us and that realisation, if we let it, is the proverbial kick we need to make the most of our precious time here. It’s at this point that the connections we make with like-minded people matter more. We’re less inclined to suffer fools gladly or spend time with those who leave us feeling drained. We hold on tighter to the people we love – our tribe – and we prioritise them over everything. We give up people-pleasing because we know that’s where we lose ourselves and we recognise that those parts of us which we thought we’d left behind in our youth are all still alive and well, just waiting to be brought to the fore once more. In short, we’ve learned what matters most to us and we’ve grown tired of wasting our time on the things which, as it turns out, don’t matter at all.
So, write that book you’ve always wanted to write or sign up for a drama class and take to the stage. Go to a music festival and dance for three days in mud-drenched clothes or take up snowboarding and enjoy the thrill of a whole new adventure. The younger generations might roll their eyes and mutter something about an embarrassing crisis, but you can smile, knowing that one day they too will face this transitional moment in life when they move from being all things to all people to finally being themselves again. And when they do, God willing, we’ll be right there beside them, cheering them on all the way.
