Twelve and a half years into the no longer new millennium finds me bobbing along, wondering where my life preserver is as I barely keep my chin above water. Truth be told, I am getting a little tired of treading.
Born in the mid-20th century, I am a bona fide baby boomer, but what I am feeling is not unique to that generation. Any woman who approaches “a certain age” will probably experience what I am going through. Which is: bouncing enthusiasm with new energy and ideas, feeling positive about this wondrous stage of my life, only to be blindsided by scattered focus, fuzzy memory, lethargy, and at times, downright depression.
We compare notes with our friends, are given wide berth by our families, and are diagnosed by our doctors. We go on anti-depressants, up our Valium and/or vitamins, do more yoga, seize the day, peruse the self-help section in book stores and blogs, and try to balance on the teeter-totter of our lives. We are the human equivalent of pinball machines.
What if…just what if I need to simply accept this fact? That my focus is a pinball? Not just accept, but embrace it, because this is the “now” of my life.
One might advise that I try a tad more self-discipline. A soupçon more Zen. Well, been there and done that, over and over. (Monday is for bookkeeping, Tuesday is for internet research, Wednesday is for actually producing my product, which is illustration, Thursday is for writing, another creative outlet, Friday is for self-promotion and marketing…etc.) And that is only the career-related agenda!
I am tired of searching for a magic bullet (and half afraid it might end up being the one I put in my head). I plunge to depths I am only too familiar with, and, over time, have become accustomed to. As do many of my friends. We are on the same path, suffering the same vague malaise, for sometimes very different reasons. I am tired of pegging them, of self-diagnosing: realizing my life wasn’t what I had planned / menopause (peri-, post-, and full throttle mid-) / depression / Vitamin D deficiency / ADD / too much alone time (or not enough) / the state of my financial affairs / the state of world affairs / dealing with the unavoidable (taxes and mortality)…until it all becomes one big, crazy, overwhelming loop. When we do share, we all seem to share it.
The elephant in the room is now tending bar and pouring the wine at Happy Hour. I want to pay my running tab and get back to my life.
So I have a plan…one hour at a time.