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.