"There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning."
Twenty-two years ago, my dad passed away while I was managing infertility. Ten months after he died, I gave birth to twin daughters and a third child sixteen months later.
Thirteen years ago, my sorority sister died of lung cancer just after her 40th birthday.
Ten years ago, I faced a freak, debilitating eye disease when I temporarily lost my vision and did enough damage that I will most likely need a cornea transplant one day.
Seven years ago, my dear friend died of breast cancer.
The last few years were about sending my kids off to college, menopause, health challenges, helping aging relatives, and moving to a new state.
Every one of those time periods changed me, molded me into who I am at this exact moment.
Most of the time, it was for the better. It made me more grateful, more resilient, more determined to make the most of this one life I get to call my own.
Those events also challenged me. They made me a little more risk-averse, a little more grounded, a little more practical in my everyday life. I’ve learned that good health is a gift, aging is a privilege, and nothing is more important to me than my family.
And all these things strengthened my resolve to find peace and contentment in this life.
But nothing broke me down like running into midlife, like hitting a brick wall. These events broke me to the point of disrepair, and I needed to re-learn how to feel like myself again.
It's been a process.
Midlife came in like a wrecking ball, changing me in a million different ways.
I finally recognized that material items don't bring me much joy anymore, but my husband and I will spend on food and travel.
I realized that maintaining certain relationships did not make me a better person, because I sacrificed my peace to please others. Eliminating or reducing the time I spend with toxic people allows me to be more patient and kind to those who need me the most.
On the flip side, I've recognized that surrounding myself with those who challenge me because they are smarter, more insightful, driven, or relentlessly grateful, is how you become those things as well. The strongest circles are the ones where people leave believing in themselves a little more than when they arrived.
It's simple. Good relationships make you happier.
I learned that the real flex in life is leaving people and places better than when you find them.
But most of all, each of these life-changing events taught me to throw myself into my passions with abandon. Writing. Reading great books. Taking care of myself. Traveling. Volunteering. Mentoring. Connecting parents. Connecting with my loved ones.
Doing these things makes me smile every single time without fail.
But sometimes I stray off the path and forget the way to contentment. Something happens that sucks me into the black ocean, and I lose my North star. I get stuck in the muck of other people’s behavior; I take on the world's problems; I overreact and underrespond.
It might be due to events outside my control, such as political unrest or others' animosity. It could be a string of bad luck, like health challenges, marriage issues, emotional strain, or financial hardship. It could be grief over losing someone you loved, and the world doesn’t seem the same without them. It might be unresolved trauma that brings out old feelings such as insecurity, anxiety, or a state of overwhelm.
Or, sometimes, you just go off the rails and lose your way.
So, I must start over again, almost from the very beginning. I must re-learn how to bring peace to my life, appreciate what matters, be there for those who need me the most—both in my family and in the world.
Sometimes, it is simple. A few small tweaks. And sometimes, it’s like rebuilding a house by taking it down to the studs.
Recently, I read an article that said Americans are hard-wired to prove themselves, whether it's to reach a certain social standing or approval status by others, or to determine our own self-worth. The author stated to eliminate the tendency to chase after the wrong things, ask yourself this: "If I could never tell a single person about my achievements, would I still pursue them?"
That line knocked me off my socks. If you couldn't post it on Facebook or brag about it in school pick-up line or pick up the medal or certificate--would you still do it? Would you still buy that car if no one saw it? Would you go to that place if you couldn't snap the photo?
What is the motivation? Is it more money, more social standing, more approval from someone in your life?
What kind of void are you trying to fill? What weakness are you trying to hide? What scars are you trying to mask?
Keeping up with the Joneses is a real phenomenon, but it is a never-ending circle with no clear winners. It is exhausting. It is impossible.
And why do these things never bring you peace, but instead just leave you yearning for more?
When you remove "the chase," you realize that what you are pursuing is for love and passion and joy. And that, I’ve learned, is what can bring you peace.
That doesn't mean you can't have goals, but in this crazy time, I think it's so much more important to find contentment in the things you love--not checking off imaginary boxes from someone else's list.
My biggest mistake the last few years has been trying to suppress uncomfortable feelings. I tried to gratitude myself out of my emotional state by reminding myself how fortunate I was instead of addressing them head-on. The more I denied my emotions, the tighter their grip on me grew. The more I told myself to be happy, the less I was. It was a losing battle.
A major change occurred for me when I shifted my mindset from trying to figure out why I was unhappy to giving myself bursts of joy instead.
What I found is that happiness often involves external things beyond your control. How your kids are doing, achieving a certain milestone, completing a project—and while all these things are worthy of doing, it involves a lot of emotional chasing, internal negotiation, and short-lived satisfaction.
When I started pursuing small things that brought me joy, such as learning a new game (I’m looking at you Mahjong), joining a book club, staying up late to finish a novel and not admonishing myself for it, planning a trip to see my daughters or a friend, volunteering at a new food bank, or completing a fun bucket list with my husband, I felt more engaged and connected to the world around me, and then better about myself.
The pain I was experiencing over the transitions in my life was still there: I was adjusting to a new community, I was addressing health issues, I needed to repair broken items with our new home, I had to face that my job situation had changed because of circumstances outside my control.
BUT, I was engaging with life in ways that lifted my spirits, connected me to others, and gave me enough joy to know that things wouldn’t be bad forever.
And I stopped beating myself up over the way I was feeling. As always, I was my harshest critic.
My emotions weren’t wrong, but they were a signal that it was time to change a few things in my life. After years of filling my time predominantly with work and family, I needed to find new meaning, new coping mechanisms, and new sources of joy.
Just when you think midlife can’t get any harder, we have to completely rethink our approach.
When I found some order in the chaos of my new life, when I recognized all I had overcome, when I focused on helping others without expectation and with boundaries, when I built a routine centered on what could bring me bursts of joy, things started to change for the better.
Midlife started off rough. My focus was on the wrong things, the wrong people, the wrong routines. I hated watching my life pass me by, feeling like I was on a treadmill to nowhere.
I don't fear growing older anymore. I don't mourn my kids growing up. I don't wonder about how to fill my time or what to do next. I want to follow my passions whenever possible, and I don't feel bad about it.
I am relentlessly and unapologetically chasing things that bring me joy, and as I do this, I’m finding I can share this with others, creating a sphere of light that I hope radiates out into the universe.
That is a gift I keep giving myself.
But most importantly, it helps me feel more peace than I’ve felt in a long time.
I hope you find yours too.
Exhale.
With you,
Whitney
P.S. I just finished Heart the Lover last night. Interesting book, and I wish I knew there was a book that came before it before picking it up. Something made me feel the book was disjointed. I liked the premise, but it felt a little off to me. I’m still trying to get through Buckeye on Audible. I’m determined to finish, but I’m only halfway through!
No posts
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.