Yes, I know. It's been almost a year to the day since I've written. A lot has happened… I moved home, got a new job, found my little peaceful apartment in the woods, and I am currently recovering from shoulder surgery, as I write. To be honest though, I haven't had a lot I've wanted to write about. Nothing insightful or profound, that is. Not that anything I have written about up until now has been very insightful or profound. In fact, it's been quite superficial. And I don't mean that in a negative way, just that I write about easy surface stuff. I've had other things going on over the past year that I just don't feel comfortable writing about. Surely you understand. I don't know why I tend to keep the easy things visible, and banish the deeper things to the inside. But let's save that one for another day, shall we? And with that, let's get back into the beach chronicles. It's been way too long.
Last I wrote, I was explaining my move and why I was leaving the beach/moving home. And as a quick refresher, the blog in general has everything to do with my 40's and my mid-life crisis (my MLC as I now call it). The trials, the tribs, and the comedic relief from it all. And it continues. Because even a year later, I'm obviously still in my 40's and my MLC is still riding shotgun. If you need the full reason for, and how it all began, you can read Birth of The Beach Chronicles.
When I discuss my MLC, it's always with one part jest, one part tongue-in-cheek, and 2 parts tangibly unpleasant reality. And I'll stick to that. Lately however, the 2-parts tangibly unpleasant reality seem to be weighing so much heavier on me. Kinda like that drunk dude standing too close behind you in line for a drink, at a bar you know you're too old for. It's breathing down my neck, invading my space and smells like alcohol. I'm not sure if it's perimenopausal hormones or the pain of shoulder recovery that's causing the reflective and introspective chunks of time I've been succumbing to, but it's happening so I should at least address it before it asks me for my phone number.
Now, before anyone decides to point out (again) that life is too short for MLC's, or remind me that I have a lot to be thankful for and positive about, I know all of this. I am VERY thankful to have my close friends and family, a good job, lovely apartment and my health. All of it is included in the aforementioned thoughtful chunks of time. It's just that I really am finding this decade very difficult. *I* am. Me. Wendy. Wendy is having a hard time with Wendy's current decade. For a girl who has always, and I mean ALWAYS, spent too much time in her head, this time period for me is just one long, relentless internal seminar/intervention that I don't know how to talk about. I mean, who really wants to hear about all that? No one. And how I choose to talk about it usually comes out in rather "colorful" ways as you already know. So, I just feel it's better to keep it to myself. Well, almost to myself, as I'm obviously purging it here. I know I'm not the only one going through it. But I am the only one going through it as me.
I guess what bothers me the most is that I never thought I would have to face all the ages I have ever been again. And by that I mean facing all of the Wendy's I've ever been. That is how I define a mid-life crisis. Facing who we were, as we figure out who we want to be as we enter the second half of our lives. It's painful, and very funny sometimes, and confusing. And painful. Did I mention painful? We are every age we have ever been, every day. And the mistake we make is separating them, and relegating them to our past. Especially the ages we're not so fond of. We're sometimes thankful even, that we "aren't who we were back then anymore". But the reality is, they make up who we are. With every age, brings a different stage, which creates an updated version of ourselves. They make up our reactions and help form our decisions. How we approach love, loss, change... So essentially, they will also drive everything we do as adults in our second half of life. And we should listen.
I'm currently trying to reconcile and define the personal stuff like the self, romantic love, home, loyalty… as they happen to me at 46. All of which span across all ages, all stages. And there are various definitions and degrees of each. Expecting others to define, or value these things at the same degree as I do, is just foolish. 16-year-old Wendy wonders why people don't like her for exactly for who she is. Why can't they believe she is who she says she is. She has so many questions. 46-year-old Wendy wishes she could explain it all to her. Tell her all of that doesn't even matter. You see? We are every age we've ever been. And our decisions, emotions and reactions are derived from the internal discussions between them. Giddy new love, jealousy, self-doubt… that would be the 16-year old. Thirst for knowledge, growth, internal (and vocalized) existentialism… mid to late 20-somethings. Independence, pride, strength… 30's. Which brings us to the "40's decade". Suddenly meeting all of them. All at once. Because ALL of these fucking needs and questions and emotions come full circle, right here in this lovely, feisty little M. to the L. to the C.
Deep breath. Exhale. And smile.
It's not that facing them is difficult. In fact it's kind of cleansing. And insightful. Sometimes I even realize that I actually DID know then, what I know now. The difficulty is figuring out how to use them all constructively. Where to go from here. How to use them to reach my full potential in my second half of life. How to move forward and grow into who I'm supposed to be. Because it feels more important to me now, more than ever, to try to gather the best and worst parts of me that I have been, and direct them into new greater parts for who I will be. I mean, the artist in me wants to create emotional and moving paintings. The poet in me wants to write inspiring words. The lover in me wants to love deeper than I have ever before. How do I sort through all of that to become the best artist/poet/lover I've ever been?
I have a dear friend in Denver, who I also consider my mentor. In regard to my issues with being in my 40's, she once told me to be patient. That one day I would wake up and see that certain things just wouldn't matter anymore. The few extra pounds, new wrinkles and laugh lines. The memory of past mistakes made… That it will be liberating to not have to worry about what other people think of me anymore. It will be as if a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Maybe that explains the need for my surgery. Perhaps I've reached my shoulder weight limit. Who knows. I'm still waiting for that moment. Still working through the dawn of all my ages. But, in all honesty and despite this nauseating roller coaster ride, I kind of feel that day isn't as far away as it seems. I just need to be less 16 and more 46 in all the glory it could will actually be.
As I begin a new year of experiences and changes, as 2015 is already promising, I promise to share more and worry less. All I ask of you is to be kind to yourselves at whatever age you are. Love hard and honestly. Do right by your "self" and others. And embrace all the you's you've ever been. They've earned it. And you'll be seeing them again someday.
"The difference is this... Pain is a gift. Without the capacity for pain, we can't feel the hurt we inflict."
~ The (12th) Doctor
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