Who Says That's Impossible?

I spend so much time thinking about midlife, that sometimes I forget one of its very best features.  

It ends.

What lies on the other side of midlife is sometimes described by people in their 50's and 60's with glee. It's a freedom from fakery, people-pleasing and scrutiny. It's generous and communal. It's well-earned fun. We call this era our second mountain, and climbing it with integrity can change your whole life.  

I'm finally climbing — after years in the midlife dip — but I noticed the other day, that occasionally, my brain still thinks from the midlife dip. 

We need to talk about this.

Post midlife plans

I was out for a long walk on the ranch the other day, and because we live in a wilderness of high-desert, Sara Bareilles and I were singing together at the top of our lungs.

One of us is a tremendous vocalist.

By the time I got home, I was full of some exciting, post-midlife ideas. It felt like a fresh wind blew through my soul, the return of some long-absent possibility. 

Specifically, I was thinking about running. I want to be a trail runner, someone who runs races on trails in the mountains, with others who meet for beers afterward. Perhaps I would even travel to places like Chamonix, France and run with the folks I've watched for years, who are dashing up mountainside forests in the dark, with their headlamps on. From below, they look like fairies. 

As I was imagining all this, the following thought popped up:  

"That's cool and you would like that so much, but you can't have it. That's not how life works. You're too old anyway."

"WTF?" I thought stopping dead in my driveway. That thought was so gross and mean, I wanted to avoid the knowledge that it came from me in the first place. 

"No actually," I replied, mentally correcting it. "I can be/do/have what I want if I decide to do the work to get it." 

I was curious though how that yucky belief could feel so gut-level and true. Do I really think that? Turns out I do, or did, because when I grilled it, here's what I learned. 

1. The belief that disappointment is my most likely outcome, is a relic from the midlife dip. If you are focused on surviving any hard season, it makes sense to hunker down and play defense to block the blows. Midlife can be that way, and the result is a general diminishment of your hope and enthusiasm. That voice of disappointment has been normalized and probably given free rein for a while, so it's loud and entrenched. 
2. But when midlife ends, and it does, we enter an entirely new season, one that requires some aspiration. Has my mind caught up with this new era? Or am I accidentally dragging my diminshed expectations into territory where they don't belong? 
3. This is an identity issue. What you believe about your capability will directly impact your outcomes. It's self-fulfilling, so examine it. 
   
   

What's possible for you?

I may be 53 years old, but I'm hardly the first person to want to run trails at my age. If it's been done by anyone, it can be done by me, if I'm willing to do the work. Sure my knees may demand walking from time to time. So what?

Plus, America may be going through a disastrous deconstruction of her own right now, but I still have immense privilege to do just about whatever I want. That's a freedom many people in the world can't imagine. So what would I like to do with it? (Believe me, it's not just trail running.)

Since I've finally exited my midlife dip and am climbing my second mountain, I can tell you, there is a different mindset and language required. Midlife dip thinking just won't do. What a pity it would be to bring the limitation you felt during your midlife dip, into the heights of your second mountain climb.  

So here's a good question. 

What's one thing that would bring joy to my life, even if it's hard, and what must I believe about myself to do it?

Don't judge your answers, that's diminishment talking. 

• Maybe it's planting a kitchen garden. 
• Maybe it's going for a daily walk to challenge depression. 
• Maybe it's training for a triathalon. 
  
  

It doesn't matter how splashy it is or isn't, it just has to matter to you. 

By the way, have you ever heard of Sister Madonna Buder? The Iron Nun? She holds the world record for the oldest woman to ever finish an Ironman Triathlon, which she did at age 82. She's completed more than 45 of them.

She's 95 now. Still running. 

So tell me again, what's not possible for you?

If fill your mind with stories of people doing impossible things, it helps you believe you can do impossible things too. The belief is the starting line. 

Do your thing.