Wren at the Beach at Evening
LJ and Wren at the Beach
Me and LJ at Picolo's The Red Bar
Saturday, October 07, 2006
So This is Mid-life
I don't know if other people feel this way, but I have never really felt my age. A late bloomer in junior high and high school, I don't think I started shaving until I was in college. Didn't get the first hair on my chest until I was probably 20. I remember football players always seemed so much older than me, even when I was the same age that they were, and even when I was actually a bit older than them.
Then there came a period of my life where my late-blooming served me well. In my 30s, people constantly expressed surprise when I told them my age. Of course, I've never been much for dressing up in business suits and acting like my father, so I "dressed younger" than most guys my age. But I also try to stay in shape (with as little effort as possible). I took up running while in college and have stuck with it ever since. Just don't assume that means I'm running any marathons. I'm doing good to run 3 miles 3 days a week.
Well, it seems that life and reality have a way of catching up to you.
I'm 45 now. Soon to be 46. I have more gray hairs than blonde ones and a little (for now) naked spot on my crown. I have to wear reading glasses along with my contacts to see anything close up. I have this thing around my waist that makes the button on my pants scream in agony. Some people call them "love handles" but aint nobody holding onto these babies these days. Speaking of which, I'm starting to understand the collosal market demand for Viagra, Cialis and the like. (Although, I try to think of my lower libido as a God-send rather than an affliction.)
And what's with this? I catch myself getting jealous when I see a guy with a full head of thick, wavy hair. I NEVER used to even think "Gee, that guy's got good hair."
I'm also jealous of people with what seem like more successul careers than mine. I subscribe to a weekly Business Journal that I can barely make myself read because it always fills me with feelings of envy, makes me compare myself to other people being profiled in fluff pieces. And it's not simply jealousy. I wonder, "What's wrong with me? Why haven't I made such achievements with my life? What's holding me back? What character flaw do I have that they haven't got?"
Plus, I'm in that sh*t sandwich, caught between kids needing me as their father and aging parents whose needs for me are growing as well. The future now starts looking pretty scary, filled with worries like crime, college tuition, illnesses and long-term care.
There's just no denying it. I am middle aged. I am over the hill. In fact, I've topped that hill and slip-sliding down its backside. And now I've been on the downhill side long enough for that reality to sink in. The "mid-life crisis" is the shock, the denial, the attempt to stave off the inevitable. And, thank God, I believe I'm starting to get over the "crisis" part. The shock is wearing off. The denial is gone. The truth is sinking in.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not giving up or giving in. I'll still get up and put in my 3-mile run, 3 days a week. I'll still spike my hair with "product" in an attempt to look young (and hide that bald spot). I'll still look at the latest issue of GQ or J Crew when shopping for clothes. My attitude is just different now.
I thought by this time in life, things would be easier. There would be a pattern, a system, everything set in its place. I thought my business would have grown to a point where it took care of itself. I thought my life would pretty much run on auto pilot. And now I realize that was just a pipe dream, my unreal and imagined idea of being an adult.
So I sit. I am still. I listen to what I'm saying. I listen to what God is saying. "My grace is sufficient." I think of all the incredible blessings in my life. My wife. My children. Our home. My work. And I am grateful. Grateful to be on the downhill side of the hill. Mindful that there are advantages to being on the downhill side. Like gravity. Like a snowball, picking up the lessons I've learned along the way and growing larger as I go. Like finally being able to see the valley below, beginning to understand where it is that I am headed.
The race is not over. Welcome to mid-life, Jay.
Then there came a period of my life where my late-blooming served me well. In my 30s, people constantly expressed surprise when I told them my age. Of course, I've never been much for dressing up in business suits and acting like my father, so I "dressed younger" than most guys my age. But I also try to stay in shape (with as little effort as possible). I took up running while in college and have stuck with it ever since. Just don't assume that means I'm running any marathons. I'm doing good to run 3 miles 3 days a week.
Well, it seems that life and reality have a way of catching up to you.
I'm 45 now. Soon to be 46. I have more gray hairs than blonde ones and a little (for now) naked spot on my crown. I have to wear reading glasses along with my contacts to see anything close up. I have this thing around my waist that makes the button on my pants scream in agony. Some people call them "love handles" but aint nobody holding onto these babies these days. Speaking of which, I'm starting to understand the collosal market demand for Viagra, Cialis and the like. (Although, I try to think of my lower libido as a God-send rather than an affliction.)
And what's with this? I catch myself getting jealous when I see a guy with a full head of thick, wavy hair. I NEVER used to even think "Gee, that guy's got good hair."
I'm also jealous of people with what seem like more successul careers than mine. I subscribe to a weekly Business Journal that I can barely make myself read because it always fills me with feelings of envy, makes me compare myself to other people being profiled in fluff pieces. And it's not simply jealousy. I wonder, "What's wrong with me? Why haven't I made such achievements with my life? What's holding me back? What character flaw do I have that they haven't got?"
Plus, I'm in that sh*t sandwich, caught between kids needing me as their father and aging parents whose needs for me are growing as well. The future now starts looking pretty scary, filled with worries like crime, college tuition, illnesses and long-term care.
There's just no denying it. I am middle aged. I am over the hill. In fact, I've topped that hill and slip-sliding down its backside. And now I've been on the downhill side long enough for that reality to sink in. The "mid-life crisis" is the shock, the denial, the attempt to stave off the inevitable. And, thank God, I believe I'm starting to get over the "crisis" part. The shock is wearing off. The denial is gone. The truth is sinking in.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not giving up or giving in. I'll still get up and put in my 3-mile run, 3 days a week. I'll still spike my hair with "product" in an attempt to look young (and hide that bald spot). I'll still look at the latest issue of GQ or J Crew when shopping for clothes. My attitude is just different now.
I thought by this time in life, things would be easier. There would be a pattern, a system, everything set in its place. I thought my business would have grown to a point where it took care of itself. I thought my life would pretty much run on auto pilot. And now I realize that was just a pipe dream, my unreal and imagined idea of being an adult.
So I sit. I am still. I listen to what I'm saying. I listen to what God is saying. "My grace is sufficient." I think of all the incredible blessings in my life. My wife. My children. Our home. My work. And I am grateful. Grateful to be on the downhill side of the hill. Mindful that there are advantages to being on the downhill side. Like gravity. Like a snowball, picking up the lessons I've learned along the way and growing larger as I go. Like finally being able to see the valley below, beginning to understand where it is that I am headed.
The race is not over. Welcome to mid-life, Jay.
