I think we all know that midlife can be rocky, right?
I haven’t entered it unscathed, if I may be honest. Changes. Trauma, both personal and collective. New questions (though most of the time, those have been lifegiving, too).
Likewise, this is often an unfolding time of deepening identity. And for me, that has also mostly been lifegiving. Still, as we know, midlife has hurdles:
For people who find themselves in this era of life, this is the sandwich generation, when we’re often caring for kids and parents at once. It is also the life stage of the dreaded midlife crisis. It is an era of thinking financially to prepare for what’s ahead — both for ourselves and those who come after us. And if we’ve had any kind of attachment trauma in our youngest years (we form our initial attachment system and attachment styles during ages 0–3!), we can almost count on some of those patterns and coping mechanisms crashing out on us at some point in this life stage.
As researcher and speaker Brené Brown says, “I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear: I’m not screwing around. It’s time. All of this pretending and performing – these coping mechanisms that you’ve developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt – has to go. Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy of love and belonging, but you’re still searching and you’re more lost than ever. Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you.”
Midlife is an unraveling and a becoming. If I were to write a review of this chapter of life, I would need to give nods to these storylines and possible disclaimers.
But all of that being said,
I adore midlife.
It might even be my favorite.
I truly love being sandwiched between generations. I feel wisdom moving in every direction as my life is surrounded by beautiful, brilliant people who are younger and older than me.
Sometimes, when I sit down and have conversations with those who are younger, I feel myself providing not only from myself and my own life-knowledge, but also from the wisdom and stories of the people who most shaped me. When I am learning from those younger people, I am in the moment. Yet later, I find myself reflecting on how much my elders would love these younger people if they could meet them.
Recently, I was remembering a time of great turmoil in my life in my 20s when my surrogate father told me, “Someday, you’ll be speaking to others about this and providing for them from it.”
It’s a terrible consolation prize, but it’s also true. I do this almost every day, and it’s fulfilling.
At the same time, I have some sage elders in my life who are constantly providing wisdom and guidance, letting me know that I can lean on them. And truly, I can. My elders who have passed would be so honored that these present ones journey with me now. I also think it’s good for those I care for to know that I am still mentored — of course, by those who have more years than me, but also by those who have fewer. We also become peers who accompany each other. The younger people in my life carry me in my vulnerabilities, as much as I hope they will carry a few strengths I have received.
I learn in relationship, as do we all.
So what I love most about midlife is this awareness — and this choice — of noticing and being shaped by wisdom in every direction.
As my friend Rabbi Rob Dobrusin has shared, “The wisdom of our elders must inspire us. We respect and embrace the concept of ‘dor l’dor,’ generation to generation, not only meaning the continuity of tradition but meaning as well continuing the search for wisdom.”
A lot can be upended in this era. But there is also so much space for collective care.
And I love that.
—Renee Roederer
Smuggling Grace 