Wow, I'm officially 40. The actual day is anti-climatic (or would that be anti-important as I didn't expect a climax of any type). When I turned 39 I was nervous about 40. Seems silly now. It's just a number, a half-way point between 0 and 80 (80 the number I can't imagine living past). But I have been thinking more about how many years I have to work--probably 30 if I'm lucky which is sobering. Too bad there aren't graceful ways of slowly retiring. And I worry about the aches and pains in my back, hip and stomach. Naive idealism is mostly gone, worn away by the realities of my limitations and the constraints of social structures.
I have a good friend who also just turned 40; he's starting his second semester of law school. I'm impressed. At 40 I can't quite imagine starting much of anything. Long gone are my desires to pursue something completely new, to take a big risk. Of course, in part, this is because I'm relatively happy with my job teaching gig. But also it's because I feel a deep down tiredness and sensible desire to not overextend myself.
For example, while I like my job, I'm not that keen on living in Utah--not really a great place for someone like me, a retired Mormon. I'd like for my kids to grow up in a community where they could actually choose whether they wanted to attend LDS seminary or not; not doing so as a Mormon kid could be the kiss of death to friends and future dating. But I just can't imagine applying for jobs, putting myself out there, selling all my many important qualities and skills. I'm much more satisfied with surviving than I was at 20 or even 30.
In reflection maybe 40 does mean something. It gives me a definitive half-way number, the literal representation of a life which is now heading down toward its end. I'm now officially coasting, not striving or scraping for legitimacy or happiness. I have what I have: a tenure track position at a college in Mormonville, a 3,000 ft square house built in the 70s with three floors and low ceilings, a community which contains few if any of my ilk, a family with three children and a wife, a geography where it's sometimes 5 degrees and at other times a blistering 100 with only a swamp cooler for cooling.
Sounds depressing I guess, particularly in the context of heroic stories in movies and in the news which "inspire" us to believe we can do it all, we can become whatever we want at any age in this great nation. Ultimately, I'm relieved and excited to hunker down, to appreciate more what I have, to stop worrying about what might be... THIS IS THE PLACE so I might as well sit back and read a book or write a post in the winter OR dig around in my garden or go for mt bike ride in the summer. Finally I can fully begin to listen to what my genes have been telling me for years: while survival has costs, at least you are around to enjoy what's left over.
40 ain't too bad, maybe a much more important event than I realized.
9 comments:
You know, all this not liking Utah talk sure doesn't help me accept this moving to Utah idea that Darci and I have been mulling over. I have (perhaps naively?) convinced myself that if we relocated to the Salt Lake area that there are pockets where being non-LDS won't be a "big deal" and that we could live some semblance of the life that we are accustomed to. I would suspect there are many more of your "ilk" out there, but they don't have the courage/family support to come clean. Maybe it's best you are where you are, in order to help set a precedent and let others know it's okay to leave the church behind.
Anyway, at least if we do relocate, you won't be quite as alone as before.
I can't imagine making any drastic career/life changes at 40. Even making a huge career change at 30 was nearly too much work and stress for me. However, I do know someone who is almost 60 and sitting for the CPA exam. Even when faced with the prospect of being virtually unhireable, he bravely soldiers on.
Also, be glad you live somewhere where you can go hiking in beautiful landscapes, where you actually have a winter, and where it isn't completely and utterly congested. And while your summers may be hot and your winters cold, at least it isn't outrageously humid, which makes it feel that much hotter or colder.
While you may escape the LDS church, no matter where you go (save maybe the Pacific Northwest or California), you will still be unusual because you are not religious.
Happy belated birthday, CI.
Welcome to the funhouse that is being in your 40s!
Oy vey.
Aw, c'mon, it's not as bad as all that, theorris. At least, from the vantage point of FIFTY, it looks pretty damn good!
Living the life you have is actually pretty good, in my opinion. My main psychic/spiritual goal is to do this with gusto and joy.
The historian says to tell you he took a new job--at the college--when he was 44. Use this information as you see fit.
Stg next door here;
I feel your pain, mild as it is -- but you learn to live with it. We're men, and age isn't as big a deal to many of us, in general, as it is to women.
Try turning 47 this past summer and starting your third career after 14 years of aerospace engineering and 11 years in the financial world. What makes it tolerable? That's easy. Peronally, my career ambitions went down the toilet some years ago, to be replace by mere economic survivalist instincts.
I agree with your geography woes; I hate the cold and like the warm, and only moved here 13 years ago to please the spouse (of course, I'm a slow learner; I relocated 20+ years ago to please the ex-spouse, and we see how that turned out). And while I don't have any serious qualms with my religion of choice, I will say that it was much more pleasant being a "Mo" in AZ, with it's diversity and surrounded by non-judgmental California transplants at work.
I too need to make more efforts in seeing the good in what I have instead of bitching about what could be but isn't.
Congrats from another fellow 40. I feel inspired to achieve what I want to, and I don't feel limited.
Also, it may be Mormonville, but where else can you hike, ski, mtn. bike (practically) out your back door?
As a non-Mormon, I say move down here to the Sugarhood with the rest of us heathens. Yeow!!
Thanks STG--on this issue we are in agreement.
Still, I'm happy to live alongside those of you who do not see any limits (not picking specifically on you Dr. W--there are many who would agree); in fact I'm glad you all are out there because it makes my life easier and interesting.
But I do hope that you'll allow me my own sense of what it takes to survive. After 40 yrs I deserve at least that, right? An important lesson I learned many times as a runner was the art of conserving energy in order to make the finish. My life goal is a solid, productive finish.
In high level competition it was silly for me to chase the leaders. Once in a 3,000 meter race on the indoor track at Simplot (a close- to-home-example for Dr. W from Pocatello), I let an adrenaline rush get a hold of me. I burst up to the lead pack and then went out into lane 4 in order to pass the entire group. About a lap or so later the group passed me, my lungs burned and I limped the last few laps barely finishing.
I understand it's tricky business to figure out where in the pack one belongs, especially when one is young and inexperienced. At age 16 after having run for a few months, I never thought I would have accomplished what I did in running. But at some point it seems important to realize what we can and can't do; what we are willing to give up and what we are not willing to risk. I tire of the "you can do whatever you put your mind to." That's a dangerous lie which elides much evidence concerning natural/genetic abilities and leads to the false dichotomy of the optimist and pessimist.
Even though some of you will protest, I believe we should recognize our limitations and decide what we want most. For example, I think I could possibly write a good YA short story or create solid research in composition or write some sort of creative non-fiction. But having spent years being me, trying to do these kinds of things, I know how much I'd have to sacrifice (time with kids, stress, health) and I have a pretty good sense of the odds, the odds that any story or paper I wrote would be published. If you are wondering the odds ain't great.
I'm not there yet. But from 40 to 50 my goal is to better accept what I can do and what I can't, to focus on what I'm willing to sacrifice and what I'm not, to look more reasonably at what I have the time and energy to do.
You mean 41, don't you? LOL.
Welcome to the club.
Kudos for the acceptance of limitations. Too bad our entire culture can't learn that lesson. Too often, limitations become synonyms for the outer world as a whole, an inconvenience we don't want to impinge on our adolescent sense of identity, our fantasy-selves. So the outer world becomes an obstacle we have to overcome.
On the other hand, certain sorts of radical change at 40 can be pretty healthy, no?--in the same way that renouncing one's religion as a 30-something is healthy?
In one of Clint Eastwood's movies, he delivers a line that stays with me daily: "A man's got to know his limitations."
While ambition, and the attitude/energy to pursue "what ever you set your mind to" is perhaps best left to the youthful crowd, I find it wisdom for the 40+ crowd to transition from dreams to reality, from strive to survive, from reckless pursuit of self gratification to responsibility and maturity of actions, from pyschological greed or dominance to contentment and perhaps happiness in finishing the race; I feel blessed to have the self awareness of recognizing when to change gears.
Stg
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