Midlife Crisis
It’s become hard to ignore ageing. I’ve recently found myself counting down to my last days.
It all started when I turned forty, perhaps earlier. It is difficult to explain but l’ll try. I began to feel like I was experiencing the opposite of my teenage and early adult years.
In those years, every day was a pleasant surprise of new possibilities, I got taller, stronger, faster, smarter etc. I started discovering fascinating things about my body and the blissfulness of the better gender — the pleasure of holding hands, exchanging letters, warm embraces, and the magic and absolute bliss of my first kiss. Life was great and it seemed every day handed me a wrapped gift containing the thrilling suspense and fulfilling bounty of youth. It seemed like I had endless rows of doors, each opening to a bigger world of possibilities and excitement.
But I turned 40 and this feeling of bigger and greater possibilities started diminishing. Through my thirties, I could tell there was a feeling of less and if it was more, it seemed to be the undesired type, like the mid region bulge. I should have seen it coming but nothing in my prior years prepared me for it. It wasn’t so much about the inevitable physical limitations I began to experience. It was about the mental realization of “less”.
The concept of less is quite interesting. It is that point when you get over the hill and life starts taking away all that it had given you in earlier years, as you descend from your peak. For some reason, you get a lesser feeling from life. The kiss feels less, the win is less deserving of celebration, you get less admiration for your bare worth and way more for the purpose you serve the people around you. All of a sudden, you realize that you have less of what gave you confidence, fulfillment and security in your earlier years. I’m wealthier but wealth can’t buy the charm and sensation of youthfulness. Even when you are gifted with moments of it, you are adjudged too old to savor the bliss of being young.
The other overwhelming emotion is the feeling of lost time. We all make sacrifices in life to achieve our set goals and by 40, I had started reaping the benefits of a couple of these sacrifices. But for some reason, they seemed ordinary. Unfortunately, some of the things I traded for these goals appeared compelling and in some cases, irresistible. Wow! It hit me, I had lost time and I needed to quickly make up for it. So I went on a binge — the insatiable quest to feel alive. Yet, at the end of this quest, I was left feeling less and with more time lost.
Like every other life challenge I have had, I retreated to understand what was happening. After lonely episodes gallivanting Europe, it struck me: I was going through a revival. The age 40 is magical in some sense and it is different for everyone. For me, it was a new phase with new challenges and my sure-bet toolkits were gradually becoming obsolete. I needed a new sense of meaning and self worth. I was privileged to see the signs early enough to allow me build the set of skills, competencies and abilities needed to confront my journey down the hill.
These days, I am taking midlife in my stride. I am slower but wiser, I am weaker but smarter, I am more sentimental but more in touch with myself and I might be less cool but I have seen it all. I have the maturity to see younger folks enjoy youthfulness without the anguish of nostalgia.
