I’ve heard many people claim that once they get to that middle stage of their life, they feel more accepting and comfortable with who they are.
I’m not sure I understand what “they” mean by that. And to be perfectly frank, I don’t believe a word of it.
Well, okay, perhaps it is true for some people.
Personally, I’m not one of those.
Mid-life crisis? It’s hokey. Really. The life expectancy in the US is approximately 79 years.
So half of that would be about 40 years old. When I look back at myself at age 40, I am quite certain that I wasn’t thinking that I was in the middle of my life or in crisis.
Oh sure, I was raising children, trying to make ends meet, riding that roller coaster, but I was far too busy to be introspective.
If memory serves me, I don’t recall contemplating how wonderful the next half of my life would be.
Yes, when I look back at myself at age 40, I realize I had no idea about life.
Which brings me to this point in my life. 67/79=84.5. Or nearly 85% of completion.
I can’t even come up with a catchy, fun phrase for that number. Sorry, but “almost over”,or “the end is near” are the first things that pop into my mind.
Ross gets upset with me when I mention that.
“Come on,” he’ll say, “We could live to be 100, you know.”
My reaction and response is, “Oh please.”
Anyway, Now that I am an 85 per-center, I do have time to be introspective.
Sometimes staying in the present is much too humdrum and boring.
I shockingly have come to the conclusion that somewhere along the way I may have lost my imagination. I wonder, “What happened to my stories?”
My body does a fine job of reminding me that I am “not as young as I used to be.” I can no longer eat the foods that I love. Although I have started to wear a FitBit, I don’t feel very fit. That is probably the hardest to accept.
I can count my blessings. I can be regretful.
I can wish I would have and wonder if it is still possible.
I can long for the good old days and be fearful about what might be coming next.
I can be sad for all that I’ve lost and be wondrous about all that I’ve found.
At my age, I have come face to face with the biggest boundary of all.
So, Ross when you are 104-1/2 and I am 100, will we look back at when we were young sixty and seventy somethings and realize once again that we knew nothing.
Will we finally be able to say we are comfortable with who we are?
So I came across a couple of pictures of myself over the past four years. As I looked at these photos, I have come to the conclusion that what I am really in the middle of is a schizophrenic hair style crisis.
|Warning...some of these photos may have been touched up or air brushed.|