So, I was reading a definition of "midlife" today which says it's the midpoint of my total projected years on earth. Which means if I live to be 84 -- which I think is about what THEY are predicting for women these days -- and I'm 55 now, I've got about 29 more years to go. I'm slightly halfway to the finish line, as it were. Oh boy. Just what the hell is there to do to fill those almost 30 years? More to the point, if I find stuff to do, will I even feel like doing it? Maybe, maybe not. But like all good Baby Boomers, I'm going to give it my best shot because God forbid that we should actually AGE. I mean, already 50 is the new 30, or so I'm hearing. So, by the time I get to 84, I guess I'll really be just 62, right? (Try telling that to my already creaky body with a straight face.)
When you read about it, it always sounds so simple. Explore your options; have a 2nd, or a 3rd, or a 4th career; pick up long ago-dropped hobbies (and become a famous whatever...artist, writer, scrapbooker..... you name it); travel and see the world (on your somewhat wobbly knees); explore yourself, etc. etc., ad nauseum. Now I ask you: if it were that damn easy to do, wouldn't everybody already be doing it instead of LONGING to do it? Obviously, this dawning of a Second Chance Adulthood is just a tiny bit more complicated than anti-aging gurus would have us believe.
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