It's Not a Midlife Crisis

and other things I'd like to address.

I write to you from the final month — the last couple weeks, really — of my thirties.

“How are you feeeeeling?” says everyone, as though I must feel some way about it. But the tide has yet to arrive.

When I hit thirty, I had a lot of big feelings. I hadn’t accomplished any of what I thought one was “supposed to” by then — the so-called markers of adulthood. I felt mild panic, like someone had cranked up the speed of the treadmill and if I didn’t pick it up, I was liable to fly off at any moment.

Now? I’m just happy to be here.

One thing I have noticed is that the nature of my goals has changed. Where any semblance of a five-year plan was once comprised of measurable, tangible benchmarks, it is now filled with more abstract, spiritual aims. Part of the appeal (and the challenge) is that it’s hard to know when you’ve achieved them. Some, by nature, can never be fully reached.

I’ve also reinterpreted certain terms and concepts to suit my own values. “Success” is a big one. “Enough” is another. The more I live, the longer this list becomes.

Here are a handful I’ve been pondering lately…

Each term is paired with a totally unrelated photo of a baby animal, because why not.

“Midlife Crisis”

A midlife crisis is generally understood as a period of self-doubt and reflection, sometimes followed by impulsive or dramatic behavior.

I’ll admit that in recent months a distinct feeling has crept into the periphery, motivated by recent losses and the aforementioned birthday. From the outside, it likely resembles a midlife crisis. But to label it that way feels inaccurate.

It’s the confluence of self-knowledge with the courage that stems from the awareness that life is fleeting. Things I might’ve written off as “maybe someday” beckon with a tantalizing urgency. What once felt frightening and impossible arrives with a spirit of, “Eh, why not?”

Why is “midlife crisis” all we get? Because what I’m sensing feels more like midlife courage. Maybe that should be a thing.

“Forever”

The concept of forever is presented as something we can dance with in our mortal lives — propped up as an ideal in love songs and romance novels, and as a terrifying consequence in the realm of mistakes.

If you post something personal on the internet… if you get a regrettable tattoo… if you [insert perceived error here]… it will haunt you FOREVER.

This is a lie.

Some things are an extraordinary pain to get out of. A few things are permanent. But almost nothing is forever. Even Styrofoam will meet its eventual demise when the Sun reaches its giant red phase and absorbs the Earth in its fiery gulp. But understanding eternity is better left to the likes of God and Neil deGrasse Tyson. As far as my human brain is concerned, “forever” is a concept, not an outcome.

To be clear, I believe in playing the long game. I believe in weighing one’s actions against possible future consequences. But if there’s anything the last few years have shown me, it’s that all things — good, bad, and otherwise — come to an end.

While De Beers would have us believe forever is the height of aspiration, impermanence is liberating. So do the thing. This feeling, this season, this moment will pass. I hope you spend it in a way that honors your being.

“Going viral”

The earliest citation of the word “viral” as “the rapid spread of information” appeared in 1989. The first recorded instances of “going viral” appeared around 2000. It’s been absolutely viral ever since.

Whenever I hear someone aspiring to “go viral,” my brain does this. Because as an aim, this always feels a bit off.

I’d rather be like an echo than a pathogen. I’d rather make a difference than a splash. When I release something into the world, I hope it finds its way to whoever needs to read it, whether that’s one person or one million.

I don’t want to go viral. I’d rather be resonant.

“Aging”

We’ve made aging into an ugly word.

To be clear, any perceived ugliness has nothing to do with age itself. It’s the marketing. It’s the positioning. It’s debating “anti-aging” vs. “pro-aging,” like it’s a political issue instead of a natural and privileged process.

I’ve been making my way through the Wiser Than Me podcast, where Julia Louis-Dreyfus interviews iconic women, and I always walk away with some wonderful food for thought. Diane von Furstenberg had one such nugget on aging.

“I would change the word aging to say living,” she said. “Instead of saying, ‘how old are you?’ people should say, ‘how long have you lived?’ It automatically changes everything. Even to a child.”

Aging is living. And living is beautiful.

“Productivity”

I’m not here to weigh the evils and merits of the hustle. For today’s purposes, I’m more interested in the creative usage of the word productivity, and the many ways we may apply it.

At the beginning of this year, I wrote something I dubbed a Fool’s List, named after the protagonist of the tarot, who greets the world with beginner’s eyes. It is the opposite of a to-do list, an assortment of terms and dreams and curiosities meant to spark joy, even if they never come to pass. It’s had an unintended effect, to see the yield of a day differently. We often speak of productivity in terms of output. But it also works in terms of input.

There are days when my motivation lags and the laundry piles up and my inbox eats me alive — days when I barely scratch the surface of my to-do list. But these days can still be productive. Did I produce laughter? Did I produce memories? Did I produce enjoyment? Did I produce some space, so I might think clearer tomorrow?

Productive for capitalism is not the same as productive for creaturehood.

Which is a perfect segue to this week’s card…

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Card of the Week

Here is this week’s card for the collective, as well as some thoughts to carry into the days ahead. As most modern readers will tell you, the tarot is not about fortunetelling, nor is it about neat, definitive answers. The cards are simply one path to reflection, a way of better knowing ourselves and others through universal themes. If this reading resonates with you, great! And if not, no worries. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.

The Modern Witch Tarot by Lisa Sterle

Like approximately eighty bajillion people (hyperbole, but also not far off) I once completed yoga teacher training.

I enrolled with grand visions of balancing on my head, pushing the limits of my human form and transcending the boundaries of my spiritual one. But as is often the case, my expectations did not match my reality.

In practice, the most life-changing part of the experience was learning yoga nidra, “the art of conscious relaxation.” Indeed, the most profound, restorative, dare I say productive part of training entailed lying on the floor, in the dark, perfectly still save for my own breathing.

In the years since, I have stood on my head approximately zero times. But my yoga nidra practice has been nothing short of transformative.

The Four of Swords would like us to consider two concepts. The first is rest. The second is productivity.

Even in the best cases, they are often presented as two sides of a binary — doing and not doing, effort and cessation.

We might regard them as symbiotic: We need rest to prevent burnout. We require downtime to counteract our productivity. An optimal life is one that finds equilibrium between periods of tension and stillness.

This week’s card asks us to consider whether these terms might also be synonymous — rest is productive.

The iconic Smith-Waite deck, with art by Pamela Colman Smith.

In case you disagree with this statement, the Four of Swords wishes to remind you that sleep is wildly productive. The body repairs cells and restores energy. The brain processes events and memories, stores new information, and gets rid of waste. Nerve cells communicate and reorganize. See also: muscle repair, tissue growth, hormone release, and cool dreams. (And far too much more than I could mention.)

Sleeping might be the most productive thing you do all day.

Okay, I know I said we were going to concentrate on “rest” and “productivity,” but I lied. This week’s message also bids us to consider relaxation.

Relaxation has gotten a bad rap. It is presented as synonymous with laziness. It is seen as something that must be earned. In recent years, it has often been contaminated by scrolling on one’s phone, which isn’t particularly relaxing.

Relaxation is an art form — if we allow it to be.

The Four of Swords wants us to go on a retreat. It doesn’t have to include a change of scenery, or even a large swath of time. It does mean taking care of yourself in a way you may not be accustomed to.

It bids us to step away from the screens, to not worry about replies, to release any guilt we may be carrying.

“Rest” does not merely apply to your physical form. It can also mean resting your judgments. Resting your expectations. Resting the voice that insists things could be better.

No matter what is going on, now is always a good time to slow, to stop, to breathe. To pause, feeling held by the cocoon of our own being, safe in the knowledge it is always there for us.