What is the middle? And when does it end?
Part II of a collaboration with Lisa Renee of The Long Middle
Before we begin
Some embrace the idea of carving life into stages — young, adult, middle, old. Others challenge that, preferring to think of life — or at least adulthood — into a less-defined continuum of experiences and growth. Where do you stand on this? Is middle age really just everything that happens between early adulthood and death? And, if not, where do we define the point at which we pass in and out of middle age?
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Looking at the middle from what may be the end (or not?)
Last week’s response to
’s guest essay “What is the middle? And where does it start”? was tremendous. Especially to this part:“The middle (assuming it isn’t your end) is a pinnacle of sorts. A place not to stop the clock, but to pause and look forward and back, survey the past and imagine a future beyond the fog. The middle is aging and movement, as we watch the calendar pages fly. It’s arbitrary. If you’re not busy being born, or dying, then you’re busy living. That’s the middle. We live and, if we’re lucky, it’s long. Only you can tell the story. Maybe let it out of the box.” - Lisa Renee, “What is the middle? And when does it start?”
This week, it was my turn to weigh in on how we might define the middle years and the question that has burned increasingly hotter for me: if there is a middle, when does it end? You’ll find my thoughts on that today over on Lisa’s Substack, The Long Middle. Take a look and then jump into the conversation that we started last week about this thing we call the middle. Comment over on The Long Middle or down below, Lisa and I will find you and respond.
Here’s a taste to get you started.
Is this the end of the middle for me?
I am sixty-six. In less than two months, I will be sixty-seven. Every time I think of this, I feel a bump, as if I’ve tripped over a threshold. It occurs to me that while I was “busy living,” I may have edged over the border from middle age to whatever is next. Google informs me that I am right: even the most optimistic estimators of when middle age begins and ends suggest that 65 is the upper limit.
I’m feeling a lot of feelings: afraid, wistful, hopeful, grateful, anxious, eager, determined, resilient, fragile. I’m also a little pissed off which, as we all know, is one of the stages of grief. The good news: I think I’ve moved past denial.
The last time I felt a bump like this was around the year I turned thirty-six. That year, I understood that I was no longer young. At the same time, I was not old. I’d made enough mistakes, taken enough risks to have gained some useful knowledge about myself and the world around me. For me, that year marked the beginning of a growth spurt….
I loved the years from thirty six when I was “not young but not old” to now, at nearly 67, when I am not young and at least standing on the verge of old. I loved all the growth and the promise of the past three decades. Will I love what’s coming next as much? …More
(To read the rest at The Long Middle, click here: “What is the middle? And when does it end”?)
Hope to see you in the comments!
Two reads for you
Here is one short read and one long read that sort of bookend the discussion of middle age:
The beginning:
of Situation Normal offered this funny but poignant take on when middle age begins – or at least makes itself known with the first unanticipated, totally unexpected groan. “Ask your friends if middle age is right for you” . “The name lacks marketing pizzazz, but it doesn’t matter. Everyone of a certain age is familiar with the groan.”The end: When my dad had to go into the memory unit of an assisted living facility several years ago, a friend of his wife gave me and my sisters Mary Pipher’s Women Rowing North: Navigating Life’s Currents and Flourishing as We Age. Pipher doesn’t preach, she simply shares stories and examples of the women around her as she and they move into that “final third” of their lives. It came to me at exactly the right time and I was so grateful.
Memorial Day: who will you remember?
On Monday at 3 PM local time, there is a national moment of remembrance for those who have died serving the country. For one minute, we are asked to be still and quiet so we can remember and honor those who have died. There will be parades, sales, articles and shows bursting with tips on summer reads, summer travel, summer everything. There will also be one minute at 3 PM when we have the opportunity to remember. I will, once again, think of William, a young Marine who committed suicide after serving in Iraq. And others. Here is last year’s post that also links back in time to other posts and resources that may help you with your own remembrances.
To The Ageless One
There will never be another like her. Tina Turner singing River Deep, Mountain High in 1966 and then in 1999 in front of thousands in London. The first time she was young and carried Ike on her shoulders. Thirty years later she held the stage alone and roared forth on her own terms. Tina Turner modeled growth, strength, beauty, resilience at every stage of her life, regardless of what that stage might have been labeled. May she rest in peace and power.
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Ciao for now!
Gratefully,
Betsy
P.S. And now, your moment of Zen…nostalgia finds me at Trader Joe’s
I kid you not. I went shopping on Monday evening and was dogged the entire time by songs that hit on the essay I was still struggling to write. Does Trader Joe’s have a window into my life or is that just the time of day that the boomers show up in droves? Here are the two songs that made me wonder…
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When you're invisible, it's easier to eavesdrop, which as you know is a critical tool for writers. Also, when you're invisible, you no longer get cat calls, leering men (except on social media of course), or have men assume you want them. There are downsides, as with any super power, but I try to focus on the upside.
According to Google there are three stages of old age, and I'm already in the mid-old age range, so middle age was a while back for me. But middle age is definitely the time when the changes took place that solidified who I am today. I'm enjoying my old age, even the invisibility (my super power!) that comes with it.