One Woman’s Mid-Life Crisis

Well. It happened. Officially. The children have scattered in various directions screaming and ducking out of the way. The hubby is cowering with mouth a gape, unsure of what to say or do next. The world as we know it will never be the same: I have hit my mid-life crisis. Oh, you would never know it to look at me. Okay, I have filled out around the middle, have lots more grey hairs and a few more wrinkles, but people have already seen those changes and are used to them. And it’s not the biological clock that has stopped, either. The batteries are wearing down and it’s getting slower, but the hands still move in a perpetual motion. I am afraid to say it — But — It’s my mind. My brain has synapse overload; the old noggin has shorted out and fired neurons that should not be fired. I have hit the point in my life where

*sziwip* POP *sparks * and fizzle —

and then a wisp of smoke.

Toast.

I have come to the point where I am wondering: What happens next? Where do I go from here? What is to be had for the rest of my poor, pathetic life? This is the last week of school. The kids will be done for the summer and we will be flitting from place to place, soaking up the sun and enjoying time off. I have some things planned, and we are always busy. No, it’s not the day to day things I am talking about… there are always lots of those to do. It’s the big questions: What am I here for? What does God have planned for me next? Who? What? Where? Can I have chickens? You know, important stuff.

Tonight we watched our middle son walk across the platform at grade 8 graduation. Middle of the road. The geeky stage between elementary school and high school. His suit jacket was a bit too loose and his dress shoes just a bit too tight. His classmates a mix of blossoming adolescents … none quite there… yet. The valedictorian speech was full of hope and promise…of journeys made and travels still to come. Oh, what little you know in junior high! And now? Me in the middle of life. Caught between aging kids and aging parents. Careers established but you can’t retire just yet. Dreams have been sought after — only to find that reality bites.

I’m even having trouble with mittonmusings. I have been reviewing “YouTubers” and popular “vloggers”… should I start videos?! Our life isn’t sensational enough… and yet so many videos go viral and are deemed “successful” simply by documenting their cats sleeping… or dogs eating broccoli. I look at top google searches and try and understand algorithms and analytics… and what’s up with advertising?! Should I be aiming at being the next top influencer for 2020? Shall I do “unboxings”? Of what?! Muscle ache creams? My monthly subscriptions of granny square crochet shawl patterns? (Which wouldn’t be bad, actually…who wants to sponsor me?). Oh no, my friends, Blogging is not for the faint of heart.

(Photos by superrgb and curology via unsplash)

Am I the only one who wants to sell everything I own and move to the country to raise chickens?! Am I the only one who is considering a purple streak in my hair to just be wild and crazy? (oh poor introvert me… to indulge in such revelries…) Sometimes I wish I had a bit more gumption, a bit more chutzpah, a bit more throw it to the wind and see where it takes me. But alas, I too, will have to simply climb the next rung in life’s ladder. Fold the next load of dirty laundry and paint the deck this summer just like everyone else.

Photo by Aaron Burden, unsplash

I used to laugh at King David, the writer of the Psalms. He always seemed a bit “up and down” shall we say? One psalm is full of praise, worship and green pastures…. the next is woe to me, Oh Lord, please smite my enemies. Such drama. Or maybe David was simply having a mid-life crisis, too! I think this is why so many turn to the Psalms when we hit those bumps in life… misery loves company. We are comforted by the fact that David, the messed up guy who often let his emotions get the better of him, was still considered the man after God’s own heart. The creator of the world, created mid-life too. He welcomes our questions — even the big ones. He sees the future even when we feel like ours is pointless. I’m still praying that He will give me a little boost in the right direction and re-connect my fried brain. I’ll keep you posted on it. And maybe, just maybe, show off that YouTube video of me in the beauty salon getting that streak of purple in my hair.

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