I consider myself lucky because in my 20s, I saw an interview with Paul McCartney where he was discussing his latest single, This One, which is about living in the moment and that ‘there never could be a better moment than this one.’ And I thought, you know, he’s right, too many people do spent all their time dreaming about the future or remembering the past and don’t live in the now. I won’t pretend that McCartney is the most profound philosopher in history but he was the one who made me see it. I’ve come across people expressing their midlife crisis, none more painfully than former Men At Work singer Colin Hay with his song Waiting For My Real Life to Begin. But thanks to Paul, I realized quite young that this was my real life and I needed to enjoy every possible moment. It doesn’t all go as planned; my wife buggered off when I was 40, derailing how I thought my life would go. But I got up, made a priority list (of which having a child was on top) and set about making it happen. And I did. Ben, I don’t know you at all, but happiness and fulfillment is out there. Don’t wait; seize the day! The time is now.
I'm lucky that 40 didn't hit me hard, but 50, 50 has hit me like a ton of bricks. Between late-stage perimenopause, general health stuff, and various serious family events, including my mother's death (technically, I was 51 for that, but I was still technically 50 when the final slide started and barely 51 when it ended--I am still 51, for reference), I have not been a huge fan of my 50s. (They've had a couple of high points, but the lows have been really low.)
My remaining parent is unlikely to last out my 50s (he's 89), the nest will be empty at some point, and one of the other bummers of being my age and female is realizing when everything went pear-shaped that I should have listened to the voice in my head that said it might be good to have a second kid. (Not just because it would have delayed the empty nest thing and figuring out who I am when I'm not actively a parent by a few years, but because, as complicated and messy as things are with my siblings, it's been valuable to have at least one of them with whom we can shorthand our grief. And someone to gripe about our parents with in the way that only siblings can.)
Mom always drove my sister nuts by saying, "Oh well, it is what it is," whenever something was crappy or not how you'd pictured things going, but Mom was right.
Doesn't mean I don't wish like hell that time would slow down. Nothing will make you try to live in the now more than a future that looks grim and a past that, for various reasons (distant good times are too painful, recent bad times are too bad), you don't want to think about too much.
I really loved Ben's essay it does capture something that happens as we move through time. Our relationship to the world changes in unexpected ways and it is scary to find oneself in a different place altogether than what one anticipates.
59 here and even though I'm relatively where I'd like to be (although there are so many things I'd love to have done) it's still scary slipping into the sixties this year and anticipating retirement (maybe!!) in the near future and wondering what weird stuff is going to happen with my ability to accomplish stuff along with being worried generally about what weird stuff is going to happen with humanity's ability to accomplish stuff.
But there is a timelessness to it, the feeling everyone faces this---which is both horrifying and reassuring in equal parts. In short, I think I'm turning into my parents and I always swore I wouldn't!!!
Ben, the fact that you know these things and you wrote them means that you see and understand where you are - where we all are. Do the things you want to do. Make them happen. Acknowledge your private secret dream, and follow that wish to wherever it brings you.
...604 days until I retire! Then I'm going to law school, driving up and down the west coast, letting my hair go gray and riding the London Eye with my grandchildren. CARPE ANNOS!
Anxiety destroyed my present for a long time - don’t let it destroy yours any longer! You have a column I love to read and a chance at love - I’m rooting for you!
This is really good. I think I’m lucky in that I had this revelation you’re having now when I was 25. That’s when it suddenly occurred to me that life was no longer on the semester system, that I wasn’t destined to advance to the next thing every five or six months. But 40 still hit me hard. And even though it did “all work out” for me after that (husband, child, career), that feeling of having stayed at the party too long is still close enough for me to touch. No advice for you, but it’s good you’ve woken up. You’ll make it work.
Can you find a way to bind this and sell it in a little booklet? I would buy it and put it on my nightstand or desk to read every day. What a brilliant piece of writing.
Boy did I feel this. I started nursing school in my late 30s so I’m currently stuck between “can’t wait for August when I’ll be done and can just work” and dreading September when I turn 40. And the sudden onset of foot pain hasn’t helped either.
I consider myself lucky because in my 20s, I saw an interview with Paul McCartney where he was discussing his latest single, This One, which is about living in the moment and that ‘there never could be a better moment than this one.’ And I thought, you know, he’s right, too many people do spent all their time dreaming about the future or remembering the past and don’t live in the now. I won’t pretend that McCartney is the most profound philosopher in history but he was the one who made me see it. I’ve come across people expressing their midlife crisis, none more painfully than former Men At Work singer Colin Hay with his song Waiting For My Real Life to Begin. But thanks to Paul, I realized quite young that this was my real life and I needed to enjoy every possible moment. It doesn’t all go as planned; my wife buggered off when I was 40, derailing how I thought my life would go. But I got up, made a priority list (of which having a child was on top) and set about making it happen. And I did. Ben, I don’t know you at all, but happiness and fulfillment is out there. Don’t wait; seize the day! The time is now.
I’m not trying to be glib, but I’m 74. You have time.
On the other hand, as a woman, 40 hit me hard too. I understand, but wish I’d accepted the aging process more gracefully&just appreciated where I was.
I'm lucky that 40 didn't hit me hard, but 50, 50 has hit me like a ton of bricks. Between late-stage perimenopause, general health stuff, and various serious family events, including my mother's death (technically, I was 51 for that, but I was still technically 50 when the final slide started and barely 51 when it ended--I am still 51, for reference), I have not been a huge fan of my 50s. (They've had a couple of high points, but the lows have been really low.)
My remaining parent is unlikely to last out my 50s (he's 89), the nest will be empty at some point, and one of the other bummers of being my age and female is realizing when everything went pear-shaped that I should have listened to the voice in my head that said it might be good to have a second kid. (Not just because it would have delayed the empty nest thing and figuring out who I am when I'm not actively a parent by a few years, but because, as complicated and messy as things are with my siblings, it's been valuable to have at least one of them with whom we can shorthand our grief. And someone to gripe about our parents with in the way that only siblings can.)
Mom always drove my sister nuts by saying, "Oh well, it is what it is," whenever something was crappy or not how you'd pictured things going, but Mom was right.
Doesn't mean I don't wish like hell that time would slow down. Nothing will make you try to live in the now more than a future that looks grim and a past that, for various reasons (distant good times are too painful, recent bad times are too bad), you don't want to think about too much.
I really loved Ben's essay it does capture something that happens as we move through time. Our relationship to the world changes in unexpected ways and it is scary to find oneself in a different place altogether than what one anticipates.
59 here and even though I'm relatively where I'd like to be (although there are so many things I'd love to have done) it's still scary slipping into the sixties this year and anticipating retirement (maybe!!) in the near future and wondering what weird stuff is going to happen with my ability to accomplish stuff along with being worried generally about what weird stuff is going to happen with humanity's ability to accomplish stuff.
But there is a timelessness to it, the feeling everyone faces this---which is both horrifying and reassuring in equal parts. In short, I think I'm turning into my parents and I always swore I wouldn't!!!
A brilliant ending to this compelling post: "you've finally run out of future to hide in."
Ben, the fact that you know these things and you wrote them means that you see and understand where you are - where we all are. Do the things you want to do. Make them happen. Acknowledge your private secret dream, and follow that wish to wherever it brings you.
...604 days until I retire! Then I'm going to law school, driving up and down the west coast, letting my hair go gray and riding the London Eye with my grandchildren. CARPE ANNOS!
This all sounds terrific!!!!
Yeah man. Larkin knows about this.
Continuing to live
Continuing to live — that is, repeat
A habit formed to get necessaries —
Is nearly always losing, or going without.
It varies.
This loss of interest, hair, and enterprise —
Ah, if the game were poker, yes,
You might discard them, draw a full house!
But it's chess.
And once you have walked the length of your mind, what
You command is clear as a lading-list.
Anything else must not, for you, be thought
To exist.
And what's the profit? Only that, in time,
We half-identify the blind impress
All our behavings bear, may trace it home.
But to confess,
On that green evening when our death begins,
Just what it was, is hardly satisfying,
Since it applied only to one man once,
And that one dying.
Anxiety destroyed my present for a long time - don’t let it destroy yours any longer! You have a column I love to read and a chance at love - I’m rooting for you!
This is really good. I think I’m lucky in that I had this revelation you’re having now when I was 25. That’s when it suddenly occurred to me that life was no longer on the semester system, that I wasn’t destined to advance to the next thing every five or six months. But 40 still hit me hard. And even though it did “all work out” for me after that (husband, child, career), that feeling of having stayed at the party too long is still close enough for me to touch. No advice for you, but it’s good you’ve woken up. You’ll make it work.
Can you find a way to bind this and sell it in a little booklet? I would buy it and put it on my nightstand or desk to read every day. What a brilliant piece of writing.
Boy did I feel this. I started nursing school in my late 30s so I’m currently stuck between “can’t wait for August when I’ll be done and can just work” and dreading September when I turn 40. And the sudden onset of foot pain hasn’t helped either.