Stop Using Your Old Map: The Fallacy of Age
The Crawl
There was such a sense of urgency when we were younger. Nothing ever went FAST enough. Everything took too long. We didn’t get taller fast enough or get boobs or facial hair fast enough (respectively.) When our grade school boyfriend or girlfriend went away with their family for six weeks during the summer, it felt like they were leaving for war. Six weeks was practically a lifetime.
Birthdays took forever. There was somehow a distinction between being 11 and being 12, and we would embellish our credentials by reminding everyone we were “11 and three-quarters.” Our restless spirits and limited freedom made every independent existence outside of our seem glamourous and unattainable. We responded in angst by listening to terrible music and eventually dating someone with questionable tattoos. We were in a constant state of desperately trying to get from wherever we currently were, to where we were certain was better. Our chronological age served as an annual reminder, and mile marker, that’s sole purpose was to represent the distance between ourselves and our destination.
The Falter
Until we got there. And when we got there, we said to ourselves, “This is where I wanted to be?!” We cried out from our college dorm rooms, first apartments and cubicles. We looked at the smug expressions on the faces of our parents and managers, and because we had convinced ourselves for so long that THIS was in fact the destination all along, we couldn’t help but feel we’d come up short. And while everyone else was in the same boat, only the ones seem perfectly unphased by disappointment stood out to us, further validating our belief that we’d made a terrible mistake. We were struck by the realization that if getting here took 20 something years, we would have to work twice as hard to get somewhere else or figure out a way back.
So, in attempt to avoid the inconvenience of recalculation, we opted instead to keep fumbling forth, fluctuating wildly between responsibility and rebellion. And when we happened upon a place to settle, we simply declared it our destination, unpacked, and waited for inevitable death.
The Pitstop
It is no coincidence that middle age has left many of us scratching our heads. We were so sure of ourselves back then. The path was so clearly laid out for us. How on Earth did we end up in careers we hate, with families we can’t connect with, in bodies we can’t even manage? “And does anyone else hear that incessant ticking sound?!” Suddenly it feels like our days are numbered, and that have nothing to show for our efforts. Defeated and disheartened, we feel we have no alternative but to justify our choices.
We stay at the job we hate and tell ourselves benefits are more valuable than passion. We stay in unfulfilling marriages with people we aren’t in love with because it’s practical. We continue to treat our bodies as though they are temporary because, honestly what’s even the point, right?! Our time is almost up.
The Pace
If this is you, then hear me when I tell you, your time is in no way “up.” YOUR time is now. Middle age only feels like the end to those whose destination hasn’t changed. You’ve simply just been using the wrong map.
When we are very young, we formulate in our minds a plan for success, based on our fantasies, and goals and the cumulative experiences of the people in our lives. It is based on this plan, that we make our map.
This map is what we use throughout the course of our lives, to gauge our distance from where it is that we decided we were going as a child. We may add a few stops along the way, but the map itself remains intact.
When I was 10 years old, my dream was to be an artist. Based on my desire to be wealthy, and the feedback from adults in my life who were familiar with both having and not having money, I formulated a plan to find a high paying job that would allow me the freedom to focus on my art. If the map I created based on this plan had been real, it would have looked like a long straight line connecting me to a large building with a dollar sign on it, than a straight line connecting that building to the word “ARTIST” in bold bubble letters. I spent 20 something years of my 40 years on this planet following that map, chasing that building with the dollar sign on it.
But here’s the thing with maps. Landscapes change. Roads change. Therefore, maps too must change. We don’t program our GPS to get us to work, and then get upset when the same address doesn’t take us to our favorite restaurant. Directions are changeable because the are meant to be changed. But because change is hard, and benefits are more valuable, love is impractical, our bodies are temporary, and because, honestly what’s even the point, we once again make up a story.
We propose instead that the reason we are so far from our original destination is because we simply haven’t been on the road long enough yet. This is exactly what we are doing when we lie about our age. We tell the world, “Why, you must be mistaken! I am not lost, I’m just a beginner!”
We’ve all lied about our age at one time or another. Of course, the older we get, the larger the gap between our actual age and our make-believe age. Heck, my mother was 29 for the first 16 years of my life! We blame it on things like vanity or career discrimination but fail to realize that when we lie about our age, or distract from it with heavy makeup, fake hair or cosmetic surgery, it perpetuates the negative stigma of experience.
There is a reason that “old wise-man” characters in movies look like they’re a million years old. It’s because wisdom takes time to achieve. You cannot acquire wisdom, without spending time. And wisdom, is worth splurging on. When you feel wise, you are not ashamed of the journey you took to achieve it. It’s only when you feel lost in a strange place, that you feel vulnerable and embarrassed.
We tell ourselves that it’s too late, because we’re “not in our 20’s anymore,” (even though when we were 25 we would have had like, 7 years of experience as a legal adult, which seems kind of absurd when you think about it). There is a reason 7-year-olds aren’t allowed to make decisions for themselves. “In your 20’s” is not ideal. Later and WISER in life is ideal.
The Sprint
Late in life is the most advantageous place to start from. You have more experience now than you have ever had before. Don’t wait. Take it from someone with the right map, who chased a child’s drawing of a building for 12 something years to nowhere. Time has not been working against you. It has been working for you. It’s time to gather up all the wisdom you’ve cultivated as a result of the time you’ve spent and begin again.
Stop following your old map!
Allow yourself to change course. Allow yourself to change your mind. The experiences you have because of these adjustments will be more vivid and meaningful than you could ever imagine and will allow you to feel as though you are gaining wisdom with age, and not simply “losing time” because of it. When you feel wise, you will feel proud. You will gain confidence and continue to build even more confidence as you age. Age is not a mile marker. It is not a hindrance or an obstacle to your success. Age is a badge earned with time. You are not old, you are primed. Time is not ticking away, it’s keeping rhythm. It is not running out, it’s running alongside you, telling you to pick up the pace, because you’re just getting started.
So, wear your badge with pride, turn up that metronome, and give yourself permission to reevaluate, rebuild & redefine.
With love,
Mel
