The 40s

When I was watching the news on TV last Tuesday, I saw a story on how the decade of a person's 40s is the most depressing time of their lives. That is, people are least happy in their 40s. The nadir seems to be 44.

I am 42.

For me, this is an OK time, but I know what they are talking about. In your 40s, the infinite possibilities on which we were raised become finite. We are old. The wrinkles don't go away with proper rest and hydration. The sag is there. Extra time at the gym doesn't make it go away. Crepe-y skin appears on your neck and upper arms. Suddenly, I'm supposed to have a mammogram every year! I'm less than 10 years away from a colonoscopy --yummy.

For many people in their 40s, they have teenage kids. They are the beautiful, energetic ones, not you. They are filled with potential, you are not any more. No one cares about your hobbies, the kids' sports teams, their achievement in schools, and where they go to college are what everyone is interested in. This is right, this is good, but sheesh, it's hard when the focus is shifted away from you!

I'm not really jealous of the young people. I was there once, and I know their reckoning is coming. Not everyone gets a rosy, problem-free youth, either. Some people get injured, some people make foolish choices, some people die. When I was there, I do recall being vaguely aware of how golden the days were. Loving those days deeply helps, but it doesn't make them last one longer.

Its hard to give up on that dream of infinite potential and vast possibility. It's hard to see ourselves as the frail temporary beings we are. The church tries to remind us of this, but young people don't hear it. It only resounds with the senior citizens who know full well what these concepts mean. And these are the people who come to the congregations any more.

Am I depressed? Am I unhappy? Well, maybe. It is true - I am struggling with the diminished possibilities in my life.

It is highly unlikely I will be a mother. Sometimes I have feelings of anguish at the thought that no one will have known me intimately in the next generation, like I knew my Mom or my grandmother. Sometimes I am sad that I won't be able to share my skills and passions with anyone. I have seen a few births in person, and it seems like an awesome experience I will miss. Logically, I know there is no guarantee that having a child will make such things happen, and after a few generations, I'll be forgotten, regardless.

These logical arguments give me comfort. I think the dialog in my mind about being a mother is my process for coming to terms with the end of that potential - the end of the reproductive phase in my life. It would be foolish to deny that it matters to me. It does. It's not my defining feature, of course, but the culture and society in which I live emphasize these things.

I just wish....

I just wish...

I wish I could have it all. I wish I knew when I was younger that it's not about anything external, it's all about living the life you want. It's all about love. Why didn't I know this, then?

Nevertheless, I didn't. And I don't think I'm unusual in my misdirection.

This shall be an interesting decade. I feel like there will be more challenges and more to give up as I age. I am sure there will also be things of great value and lots of fun stuff to do.