Fashionista to Passionista

You are remarkable. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this fact, but I can tell you it’s true. You are truly remarkable. How can I make that assertion when I don’t even know you? Because each and every one of us is remarkable. We may look similar to someone, our work may also be done by thousands, millions of others, hell, we may even be a twin.  We may feel invisible amongst our family members, colleagues, neighbours, and peers. But only you are the aggregate of all the bits and pieces that hold you together, inside and out: the physical, the intangible, the experiential. That, in and of itself, is remarkable.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure“. So begins Marianne Williamson’s incredible work about purpose and accountability. Quiet your mind and think about this for a while. I believe that each of us has experienced those moments in which we recognized our potential greatness with great clarity. Perhaps not the pathway to greatness itself, but certainly the knowledge that the pathway exists. Not get-rich-quick, sideshow greatness – New! Improved Snake Oil for Sale!, not 15-minutes-of-fame greatness (both of which reflect the superficial personality), but enduring, gracious, strength-of-character greatness. The deep, internal knowing that you have so much more to offer than your current 9 – 5 or your manicured lawn.

“It is our light, and not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who I am to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?”  And here’s the kicker. The next line reads “Actually who are you not to be?”

Wow. Is it just me or is that incredibly powerful? In just a few words, Williamson scolds us, and rightfully so,  for not honouring and revelling in our particular gifts. Well that’s all well and good, you lament, but I don’t even know what my particular gifts are! Well that, dear reader, is for you to know and for me to find out when you bring it forth into the world. I believe the whole reason we are here, our sole purpose, is in fact to discover what those gifts are. That IS the journey. Because as soon as we discover one gift and begin on that path, light shines on other paths to offer more opportunties and more challenges to be met. Life is never stagnant when we’re on an active path to discover what we bring to the communal table. It can be a helluva ride.

Our western lifestyle is so ridiculously busy. Tempers are short, and so is free time. We’re over-worked, over-scheduled, and overwhelmed. What we should be is overjoyed. Overjoyed at our possibilities, our challenges, our experiences, and every single thing that has led us to this point in our lives. We only get one kick at the can, people!

If you’d have asked me what brings me joy 2 years ago, my answer would have been this: Pride in my children and my work (hmmmm, both based on external elements). The answer certainly wouldn’t have been to organize a social group for women over 40, now numbering 150+ members. As it turns out, I saw a need in myself, figured others might feel the same, and voila! A social group was born, the running of which brings me great joy. The knowledge and wisdom these women bring to the table has enriched my life immeasurably. I wasn’t looking for MY PURPOSE. I was just lonely.

You are remarkable. Discover what brings you joy. Not fleeting happiness. Not superficial pleasure, but deep, all-encompassing joy. It may not be an easy task but by this age and stage you have gained strength and courage, born out of decades of experience. Quieting your mind, listening to what matters to you, what is missing, is often the first step on this journey. You are remarkable. Do something about it.

Any writer will tell you that there is a certain thrill in looking at a blank sheet of paper. Even as the blank screen stares back at me from my laptop, it is not the same thrill (at least for me) as a blank, white sheet of paper. It is clean. It is new. It is fresh. It is full of possibilities. There have been no mistakes, no White-Out, no eraser marks, nothing. It is perfect. Once you start the writing or typing it takes on a different weight, a different magic. But before you put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, the possibilities are limitless.

Isn’t that what our lives are like now at this stage of life? Past successes, relationships, mistakes, lifestyles, experiences, line up behind us, stories in our life’s anthology, the early ones so far back (by now) that they are tiny blips on the timeline. We can look back at any time for reference. But as children grow into adults, marriages reshape into “it’s just us”, single parents become “it’s just me”, those stories come to a close, put up on the shelf, another significant and wonderful blip on the timeline. Time to start a new story.

So let’s look ahead.

Some of us can’t bear to look forward. For some of us, that clean sheet of paper on which we are to write our next story is terrifying. Frozen with fear, we have no idea where to even begin. We have been secondary characters in our own stories for so long, we don’t know how to begin when we are the subject. Inspiration eludes us when the material must come from within rather than without.

For others, the possibilities are so numerous as to be staggering. Ideas come and go, so many things to do, so many places to be, people to meet, experiences to have. Life is short and getting shorter, urgency sets in. We stare at the blank sheet, overwhelmed by possibilities with no clear idea where to start. We can’t commit to that opening sentence because what if we change our mind? What if we decide on another path? What if we mess it up?

Life is messy. Life is mistakes. Life requires a lifetime supply of cosmic White-Out and that ain’t ever going to change. Life really is what happens to you when you’re making other plans, and it requires many rewrites. Life is the rewrites. For those of us who are intimidated by this next stage of life, I say this: collect your courage, gather it tight (this would be your cosmic White-Out), and just write the first sentence. If that’s too much, write the first word. It should be “I….” Then write the next word “want…”. And go from there. Dare to write the story you want to experience. To those of us who are stunned into stagnation by the sheer numbers of possibilities, I say this: It’s absolutely okay to start down one path and then change course. Life is dynamic. Life is fluid. The happiest, most productive people I know are flexible. They thoughtfully map out their story, but are open to the surprising and wonderful opportunities which present themselves. Courses are changed, paragraphs are rewritten or thrown out entirely. It’s part of the work. Cosmic White-Out is all over their paper and that’s okay. Only they are grading their story.

This next blank-sheet stage of life is full of possibilities. It is fresh, it is new. Look within, grab your pen, and get started. It is your story, and yours alone, to fashion as you will.

My ex and I were married for 20 years and have been divorced for 10. We are that rare breed who are still dear friends, would do anything for each other, and enjoy each other’s company. He has a key to my place, and I regularly come home and find him sitting in the kitchen, spending time with the kids. It’s a good set up. Not only do I like him, I like his girlfriend. Is that wrong?

This blog is all about spending the second half of life living passionately after a first half of putting everyone else first. For me, the second half is about experiencing, not about having (well unless we’re talking about George Clooney. I’d certainly have him.) There are things I want to experience. For instance, I would like to go scuba diving with whale sharks at the Georgia aquarium. However, getting one’s scuba certification involves effort which includes a certain swimming ability. Given that I get winded strolling to the end of the street to get the mail (damn those community mailboxes or I’d just be able to lean out my front door and open the mailbox!), I figure I better increase my endurance and strength before I start to explore. I’m working on it. My adult life has been all about raising kids, maintaining a home, and progressing professionally (in an office – read “sedentary” – setting). Living life outside the curb wasn’t my reality. But it’s what I want now.

My ex and I took our kids out for dinner to celebrate our son’s acceptance into university (for physics – that’s another post) and his (my ex’s not my son’s) girlfriend of several years joined us. She’s in her 30’s and frankly, she’s fascinating. First of all, she’s an airline pilot (as is my ex). But that’s not it. She doesn’t have any children and never married and so her choices are worlds away from mine. She has had the most incredible experiences from flying over the North Sea (not as a passenger), to visiting an oil rig, to working in Saudi Arabia where she dressed in traditional women’s garb, and fought (in Arabic no less) with corrupt traffic cops who pulled her over for speeding (apparently a Saudi cash grab). When I mentioned my interest in scuba, she related her various scuba diving adventures from Mexico to Florida to the Bahamas and more. Her life is so different from mine as to be other-worldly. And I never tire of listening to her. I’m like the grade school girl who trains puppy-dog eyes on the teenager, and can’t wait to wear make up and shop in the cool stores.

Our choices early on determine what stories we have to tell. I have stories now and I love every one of them: memories of my childrens’ first step, first word, first disappointment, first “you were right, Mom”. These are priceless to me but here’s the thing. Here’s what they don’t tell you. You are so involved. You live and breath your children (or your job or your elderly relative). But then you hit middle age and you think holy crap, how can I possibly start experiencing life – I don’t even know who I am. Because your identity is entirely wrapped up in the external. I see a common thread connecting all my peers. I’d certainly create a life, if only I knew what the hell I wanted to do.

Unlike my ex’s girlfriend, the stories recounting the first half of my life involve others. My plot was all about others. It was a third person perspective. For the second half, my life will be a first person narrative. Like my ex’s girlfriend, I will be the heroine of my own story. Timing is everything and this is my time. My tip for you, if you don’t know where to start, is to think back to where you were in your life when you began to focus on the external rather than the internal. What did you like to do then? Might you still enjoy exploring those interests now? Who were you then, when you had no one else to consider? Who did you want to be? At least it’s a place to start.

As for me, well, I need to work on being able to swim more than four lengths of the pool…..

At 49.5 years of age, I have been on the planet for approximately 18,065 days. WOW. That’s a lot of days. Math is not my strong suit so I could be off by a few thousand days but that’s not my point. My point is, what, exactly, have I accomplished in that time? Well, I’ve had two careers, one before children and one after. I’ve raised two children I am proud to give to the world. I’ve maintained strong, positive relationships with my family, my ex-husband, and my ex-common-law husband which, I understand, is somewhat uncommon. I am proud of these accomplishments.

But at this age, the question is no longer “What have I done?” but “What have I done for me?”. That’s a whole new ballgame and one that is not easy to answer.

In truth, I haven’t done a whole lot for me. And I don’t think it’s selfish to want some satisfaction, some joy, some excitement, and some challenges solely and utterly for me. That is my new focus as I prepare to reach a half century on this planet. Like it or not, I’ve likely been on the planet for more days than I have left and if that’s not a wake-up call I don’t know what is.

I know, I know. Some of you are thinking for the love of God, stop it. Why so glum? Why so negative? Well to you I say: I am not negative. I am not glum. I am aware. I am mindful of my mortality. I can’t think of a better motivator than an awareness that causes a healthy sense of urgency. Burying your head in the sand, looking the other way, ignoring the obvious won’t make the clock stop.

Do that thing you wanted to do when you have the time, when things improve, when the kids move out, when you have enough money. Cuz ya ain’t getting any younger…