Refuse to Choose Part II

An email conversation with my friend V prompted a bit more thought on the topic from yesterday. (Also I wanted to get another post in before April ends!) Here is my half of the dialogue:

I've been working on the "self acceptance" project a lifetime, but it's been since about 2003 and especially 2007 through now that all the deepest work has been done. (So far.) I have always been one of those "let's see what's around the corner" people, liking the sense of adventure and discovery more than anything else. But "practicalities" always have called me back. As I age it does seem important to have a home base, no question. Like you, maybe I need a home base half the time and adventures the other half. Also, I have to think about this other person I took on as a responsibility! That is really the big question, rather than what will others think of me. It's, what is the extent of my obligation to my marriage? I love my husband dearly and want to factor him in.

It is interesting trying to find the way while also sorting through all the generic and saccharine self-help advice out there. The happiness issue is so complex, and changeable. On paper, of course everyone has a right to be happy, or to pursue happiness at least. But I also think our culture promotes that at the expense of family ties and social ties. Is it really most important for us to be happy as individuals, over and above the harmony of the family or group? Of course it's all situational... but all things being equal, the "me first" aspect of our culture can be pretty destructive.

I've been reading a bit about Americans vs. other societies, in which community and the group is more important than the individual. Americans (generally) like their individuality, since we were founded on those concepts... we like to stand apart. It's part of our national myth. Other countries value choices that favor the collective. Fijians don't understand celebrating one's birthday. (or is it Bali?) They are named based on their family groups and roles, and not given individual names. Individual happiness is not part of their myth. So who is "right" (nobody, obviously) and how do I, as an American woman who also deeply values community and cooperation and harmony, straddle the two?

I Refuse to Choose

These last few months I've had a taste of the kind of work life that suits me. And I'm scared, because something vital has become apparent:

I can no longer be someone I'm not.

I can no longer look for my niche in the world by applying for permanent jobs. I can no longer seek my happiness in the next position, the next organization, thinking that this will be the one I stay at; this will be the one that makes me content.

I have followed that route for 30 years. And yes, I've had some wonderful experiences in the "permanent" jobs I have taken, but none of them lasted more than 4 years. In fact, most last two or less.

Truthfully, I get itchy after nine months.

I've spent much of my life in counseling trying to figure out why I couldn't settle down work wise and find a field to stick with. As a job's novelty wore thin, darkness and despair accompanied me regularly and I wondered, year after year, how to solve or escape these feelings. Many times I thought I was verging on madness, not knowing why I felt so trapped and defective. I could see that I wasn't cut out for the conventional work world, but I hadn't a clue, nor the inner resources, to address a solution.

When you are ready, shift happens.


I was re-reading Refuse to Choose, by Barbara Sher. If you don't know Sher's work, check her out here. She's a champion of self acceptance and goal achievement with several popular books to her credit. Refuse to Choose is her most recent, and it addresses the special challenges and needs of those she calls Scanners – people who are interested in so many things they don't know which way to turn.

Though I didn't know what to do about it, I've always known I was a Scanner – that's nothing new. But in Sher's experience there are several types. Most of the type descriptions don't fit me well, and in years past I was discouraged by that fact. The last few chapters of her book, however, include a few types that I had never gotten around to reading about – or if I did, the words did not resonate. They now settled into my soul with a resounding "welcome home." It turns out Scanners of my particular ilk are not so much interested in mastery, or spending a lot of time with our "too many" interests. What we crave and thrive on is learning for its own sake, random experience, dipping our toes in and then moving on to the next fascinating thing. We are happy beyond description about variety, change, and experiencing life differently every day. (I'm a combo Jack of All Trades, Wanderer, and Sampler, to use Sher's labels.)

Sher's "types" are her own invention, but that's ok with me. I've been reading enough about neurobiology and personality lately to be convinced that I'm hard wired in a way I cannot change. But even more importantly – and this is relatively "new" for me – I accept deeply that I shouldn't change. I am tired of trying to fit my round peg in the world's square holes. (Actually, I don't mind a few square holes for survival's sake, as with the latest economic shenanigans; it's fine as long as I know I can move on.)

Now that I am in a better place, psycho-spiritually, to move forward in a way that's more in tune with my strengths, gifts, and weaknesses, is it going to be easy? Probably not, but I have to ask: how easy has it been up until now?

The Gnostic Gospels say,

If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.

These wise words bring up many questions regarding my quest for authenticity:

• Am I entitled to fashion my life in a way that makes me happy?
• Should I do this even if those close to me don't agree with my methods?
  
• Can I be true to myself in this or any economy?
• Can I also meet my obligations to my husband and our life together?
• Should I put my needs not just on par with his, but above his?
• If so, what are those needs?
• What do I want to do exactly?

So why am I scared? Because midlife feels like a life or death threshold for these choices, and I still don't have any real direction or answers, other than what I've stated above. Maybe that's the point, and the Wanderer/Sampler way: making it up as you go along. But at least now, I have genuine, heartfelt permission to do life my way, from the one who counts the most.

On Being a Cracked Pot

You know, I'm not usually a ranter, but I have to take a minute to complain. I know all the mental techniques for minimizing despair at being middle aged, like counting my blessings and realizing that nobody has it all together even half the time. I've read just about all there is of the midlife literature, so I know I've got plenty of company and reasons for feeling the way I do – physically, spiritually, psychologically. A million bittersweet observations have been made about sagging boobs, bulging bellies, fuzzy heads, loss of purpose, and yes, growing wisdom around midlife. That's all well and good. But those are somebody else's words. I usually think this is too trivial to write about, but today I'm going to spill it. Here are the personal things that distress me these days:

• Twenty extra pounds (or so)
• Often-uncontrollable carb cravings
• Monumental boredom and confusion
• Achy joints
• Easily fatigued
• Unpredictable mood swings (ok, that's lifelong)
• Nonexistent sex drive
• Being outside the radar of younger men I find attractive
• Jowls, double chins, and saggy eyelids

To be fair, here are things I like about where I am now:

• In touch with healthy anger
• The aforementioned increased wisdom
• Tolerance for ambiguity
• Acceptance of What Is
• Self-confidence
• Speaking and acting with integrity and authenticity
• Joy and appreciation for "what really matters"
• Increased feelings of unity and purpose with Self and Universe

Funny how some of those contradict the first list!

I suppose if you weigh one against the other, it's obvious which list is more valuable. Or is it? It depends on your values. But that's one of the famous tasks of a successful midlife – to cast off the more superficial values of the first half of life – the pursuit of wealth, beauty, bling and status – and turn inward to discover the dormant treasures (of list 2) that await. It's often a hero's journey to make the transition; that depends on your history, temperament, and circumstances.

Youth is wasted on the young, as the saying goes. Wouldn't it be nice to have both youth and these treasures of conscious adulthood? Think of the possibilities! Alas, nature does not permit year a round spring, light without dark, or recreation without destruction.

Coming to terms with that, rather than pining for what's lost, is the better but harder way to go.