I've been fortunate to have had an easy life. I make good money, have a reasonable mortgage, and could get by for a little while if I didn't work. I've gone to college a few times and have the degrees on the wall to show I attended.
I've also have a really screwed up marriage (both of our fault) that some stupid part of my brain or other body part wants to destroy by doing stupid things. I get enthused about something, then rarely finish it. You should see how many project piles exist in my home and in my life.
I have a lot of friends turning 40 this year. One is getting into marathons. One drank her birthday weekend away. Another refuses to talk about it. I know 40 is not old. I look at what Z and his wife are doing as well as Unbearable Lightness and am amazed at how they are younger in soul and spirit than me. While 40 is not "old", it is no longer "young" either.
Yeah, I know. Another balding guy (I prefer the term "too tall for my hair")with a mid-life crisis. You probably wonder:
- Will he get the Corvette to be young and fast? Yeah, I want one, but I know the exhiliration of speed would fade and I would want a faster, more expensive toy to fill a void.
- Will he have an affair? I've cheated, but affairs are too personal. I am fighting not to get in one now. My spouse had a deep love affair that I am not sure is over. My marriage and sex life is screwed up enough trying to figure out if Iam too old for some of the things I desire and should accept it.
- Will he get into drugs/alcohol? Not my style. I have tried and like some of those things, but one glass of wine will do 99% of the time.
- Will he find faith? Tried that when I was 31. I've failed that one pretty bad and don't feel I deserve (or maybe even desire) grace, forgiveness, compassion, and the strength of a higher being.
- Will he get into trying to recapture his youthful athletic prowess? WTF? I didn't have much of that back then. I was in good shape and was in sports, but I was not the star of any sport.
- Will he try to express his mid-life anguish through art, as cliche it could be? Maybe that is what I am doing with my photography and my blog. Are they last desperate calls for trying to hip, cool, and important?
- Will he stop whining and STFU (shut the fuck up)? I rarely, if ever discuss this with people through talking. If you talk to me in person, I will keep this stuff bottle up in me until I die. If you are reading this and you want me to STFU... hit the "Next Blog" at the top of the screen.
It would probably not be a good idea if we were to hang out together. I have an architect buddy who is always feeling this way (he has actually always wanted to be a pianist and also sail around the world, but instead has stayed home to raise a family and work until he dies) and I limit my time with him because we can really get to bitching and feeling down in the dumps together. I hear you SB and only wish for your found happiness. Guilt and shame always run rampant. Encouragement is rare because, I think, most people don't want to share any responsibility for you fucking your life up. I say make your art whatever it takes. The rest will take care of itself because it has to. You'll only inflict on yourself the pain you can bear. I never worry about my adult children and the work they do, or don't do. They will have to work the rest of their lives. I encourage them instead to find out now what makes them tick and not be like their father who did not learn the truth about himself until it was almost too late. Now that I do know something about myself I still stay in a shitty job (meaning a job I don't like) because it's easier than really having to work for a living like the rest of the good people have to do. My job is almost second nature to me. I just hate the people. I work seriously now every day on my art as a way to insure I don't wake up screaming from my nightmare. Good luck my friend (and please,not wanting to sound like John McCain). Yikes! Good post.
ReplyDeleteAs I wrote in a comment on Z's blog, I can understand your feelings. I was there once. Then I took the chance and went back to graduate school and lived like a pauper to pursue my dream. I used to go to any after-hours lecture on campus that said "refreshments served" just to get something to eat. When I went out for dinner, I took every salt and ketchup packet on the table home with me. I am still a pack-rat because of it.
ReplyDeleteBut I did what truly made me happy. My dad, also a depression-survivor, was against my English degree at first. He said it wasn't practical (he was an engineer). But when I got the doctorate he was so proud he was bursting. And then I became a college professor and, wow, was he ever proud!
But it wasn't prestige I wanted or money or anything but to do every day for the rest of my life what fulfilled me.
I hope you find it or pursue it if you know what it is. And I did not stay in my first marriage, btw. I married the love of my life at age 40, not because I wanted to be married, because I don't really like the institution, but because I wanted him.
My life began at 40. Yours can, too. My husband used to say to me, "I don't wanta be your first love. I just wanta be your last." And he was. And I could paraphrase that statement about my life, too. All's well that ends well.