So these are my forties. Huh.
I’ve read recently about the U-curve in happiness that hits a nadir around 46 before rapidly climbing after folks hit fifty, and I’ve noticed it in myself (https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2018/may/05/happiness-curve-life-gets-better-after-50-jonathan-rauch). I always wondered how my midlife crisis would manifest and now I think I know; life has become more about satisfaction than joy.
I have no regrets and I still feel very strongly that I’m fulfilling my purpose on this planet, but I don’t quite revel in it the way I once did. I love where I am and what I’m doing, don’t get me wrong, but the edge pushing me ever forward is greatly diminished.
While occasionally I still have those post-show moments where I can practically see lightning lingering between my fingertips, more often it’s a more subtle feeling of accomplishment. And I can thrive on that. I will thrive on that, unless and until something else comes along that I thrive upon more.
This post is not to complain or to elicit sympathy, just a quiet acknowledgment of my own changing perceptions and experience. It’s kind of fascinating to observe when I’m not dramatically anxious about it; my greatest struggle is my attachment to a career I adore and anything that threatens that career, whether internal or external, terrifies me.
I’ve no desire for a Ferrari, and since I think RVs are a boondoggle it’s ridiculous for me to be craving a yacht. As part of my anhedonic trend I have less desire for physical intimacy, so that’s another route I doubt I’ll take. In sum I’m happy on my path, even if my smiles are a little more subdued these days. Thank you for joining me on the journey.
I have no regrets and I still feel very strongly that I’m fulfilling my purpose on this planet, but I don’t quite revel in it the way I once did. I love where I am and what I’m doing, don’t get me wrong, but the edge pushing me ever forward is greatly diminished.
While occasionally I still have those post-show moments where I can practically see lightning lingering between my fingertips, more often it’s a more subtle feeling of accomplishment. And I can thrive on that. I will thrive on that, unless and until something else comes along that I thrive upon more.
This post is not to complain or to elicit sympathy, just a quiet acknowledgment of my own changing perceptions and experience. It’s kind of fascinating to observe when I’m not dramatically anxious about it; my greatest struggle is my attachment to a career I adore and anything that threatens that career, whether internal or external, terrifies me.
I’ve no desire for a Ferrari, and since I think RVs are a boondoggle it’s ridiculous for me to be craving a yacht. As part of my anhedonic trend I have less desire for physical intimacy, so that’s another route I doubt I’ll take. In sum I’m happy on my path, even if my smiles are a little more subdued these days. Thank you for joining me on the journey.