What do you mean?
It’s a constant debate of action vs. acceptance. Do I need to do something about this, or is this just how things are now?
I turned 45 the other day. When I was little, I thought that when people grew up, they would look completely different, like when different actors play the kid and adult versions of a character. I would always wonder what I would look like at 45. Who would the casting director of the universe choose to represent this round-faced little kid? Alas, I don’t look like a completely different person, though I’d say that the transition year from 44 to 45 has felt just as significant as if I’d woken up with a different face after all these years. Every year, when you ask someone, “How’s it feel to be [insert age]?” the most common answer is “Same as last year.” Well, this is the year I can honestly say I feel different. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean it negatively.
The change feels significant. It feels palpable. I can pinpoint where things are different both mentally and physically. I can observe the changes with the naked eye. When I was trying to think of an analogy that could sum up the difference between turning 40 and turning 45, I could only think of actress, Jennifer Lawrence, during her Hot Ones interview and the surety she felt that all the hype was a ruse (me turning 40), only to devolve into a tear-strewn mess at encountering Da Bomb Beyond Insanity (me turning 45). I won’t go into all the specific changes I’m experiencing because some of them still need to loosen their grip a bit before I feel like I can really give them a fair shot at objective scrutiny. But in general, here’s what I’ve noticed in the past year:
There is a tightness in my muscles, tendons, ligaments - all those parts that should be stretchy - that needs to be tended to daily, or consequences must be dealt with in the form of discomfort accompanied by swearing/cursing. I’m a pretty active person with above-average mobility/flexibility, and my upper body has never felt this tight in my life. I have to stretch every day because for me, being inflexible feels like being trapped in my body.
While I said I can pinpoint where things are different both mentally and physically, a new dynamic has entered the chat. A weird uncertainty about the cause seems ever pervasive. Is this ache a standard post-workout ache, or is this ache a new, ongoing, age-related ache? Is this puffiness a temporary after-effect of a night of too much sugar and dairy, or has this skin retired and migrated to its new home down south? Daily, I find myself pondering “What does this mean?”. It’s a constant debate of action vs. acceptance. Do I need to do something about this, or is this just how things are now? My sense of “normalcy” has been shaken to its core. This leads to my subsequent discovery.
As much as I hate to say it, due to my heightened bewilderment and befuddlement with the state I’ve found myself in at 45 years old, I have been “influenced” more times than I’d like to admit by companies marketing to my specific demographics: women in their 40s, confused by the new landscape they’ve wandered into. Whether it’s supplements to help with peri-menopausal symptoms, beauty products, or tech that promises to tighten your grip on the slippery rope of youth. I’ve stopped short of any procedures or enhancements, though I completely understand the allure. I’ve always imagined myself as someone who would ease into life's transitions with grace; alas, I’m self-aware enough to admit that the targeted ads I get on social media would indicate otherwise. Until I’ve adjusted, I’ll be over here taking my beef organ supplements, strength training, and zapping, then wrapping my face as a coping mechanism.
Every time I go to yoga class (which I aim for 2x a week) and we’re asked to set an intention for our practice or our day, mine is always patience. Even when everything is going in the right direction, things take time. Things like: getting stronger, lowering my cholesterol, undoing years of body dysmorphia, learning to love myself, raising kids, building trust, etc. I want it all and I want it now. So yeah, patience is the word these days.
Beyond these personal changes the last year has brought, here are a few other highlights:
I have two teenagers! Both will be in high school next year, which blows my mind. This past year has been an exercise in finding balance between standing back and watching them naturally unfurl into their own individuals, while keeping some guardrails in place to ensure I don’t lose sight of them as they race headlong towards adulthood.
Recentering my art practice has been like trying to center a poorly thrown ball of clay on a potter’s wheel. Unwieldy against the forces that attempt to bind it. My intentions, ideas, and inspiration are the clay, and the centrifugal force is my will and motivation. I haven’t quite found the right balance to get into a rhythm that results in a shape that can be defined as anything other than amorphous. But I’m always too hard on myself. I am currently having my first solo art show, which is a HUGE step and required me to acknowledge that forward progress can still be made without having it all figured out. The amorphous stage still exudes its own type of beauty.
I wrote a little while back about my memory issues post-mental health crisis. For the past few months, I’ve been learning new languages using the Duolingo app, and it’s helped me immensely to improve my memory. I started learning French (which has always been a dream of mine), but then switched to German because we’re taking a family trip to Germany in December. I would love to learn Filipino/Tagalog. Unfortunately, Duolingo doesn’t offer it, but I’m looking forward to exploring the vast universe of language learning.
We grew wildflowers in our garden this year. It’s so easy to overlook or dismiss the things that bring us peace when the world is in upheaval and people are suffering at the hands of those who worship power above all else. But if we lose sight of joy, then we lose sight of what we fight for. I find peace in growing wildflowers, and I will continue to fight for others to find peace in whatever brings them joy.
So, what’s in store for this next year? I’m aiming for more art (always more art), more travel (if we’re lucky), getting a f’cking grip on my new reality (maybe that’s overrated? maybe flailing is more interesting in the end), coupled with less buying of stuff to help me get a grip, more flowers, more community, more patience. Onward!
