Oh, god. It creeps up on you, doesn't it? The no-driving-at-night-glares, the comfort craving, the thought that you're slowly turning into a slightly different version of your parents. Pretty soon, you'll be rocking bifocals, avoiding hearing aides, and muddling through Medicare options. It's easy to look back and focus on the coulda, woulda, shoulda's, to feel like you've missed some important opportunities along the way, or maybe that all your hard work didn't make much of a difference in the world. (I have a theory on that last item--that there are very, very few things that made a big difference in anything, but a ton of tiny items that made incremental changes that made amazing things become possible.)
Do you really want MORE? Or is it simply time for something else?
I can relate! COVID shrank the world, and for those more inclined to introversion to begin with, inertia made it easier to keep things small. But I've learned I need novelty and stimulation as much as I need food, sleep and exercise. That has meant working harder than I'd like to admit to get myself to leave the house every day for live interactions, even micro ones. And returning to regular socializing, which has been a bit like going back to the gym after years of being a couch potato: I know it's good for me, but I often don't feel like doing it and have to force myself to show up. Like a trip to the gym, I'm always glad afterwards that I did it, but clearing the hurdle feels higher now than it used to. (Not coincidentally, actual working out requires a lot more pre- and post-workout effort than it used to!) Maybe that Denver drive daunts because you've done it a thousand times. It's not new. But Uber-ing back and forth there every now and again for, I don't know, a painting or photography class, a book talk, line dancing lessons (you laugh but my sisters dragged me to a group lesson when we all went to Nashville and...OMG I have to admit it was fun!) or a meet-up to play board games. I've been consistently surprised at how happy my brain feels when I give it some novelty. And as for changing the world, I'm with Missy: Most of us won't make the history books, yet our cumulative day-to-day efforts matter a ton. This is essentially what I took away from my dad's passing (when I was walking around, constantly saying, "What's the point of this? Does any of it matter?" and causing loved ones to worry about me): He was a pebble dropped in a huge lake, but he made quiet, consistent contributions that continue to ripple. I may never know how many people's lives he affected in a way that matters; I just know his influence extended far beyond what I grasped during his life.
Oh lord. Right there with you. We almost never go out at night anymore because we don't like driving--and it feels... pathetic. We happily watch Netflix most nights. My world has definitely shrunk, and I blame it on post-Covid malaise, but honestly it's really just me. And yet there's so much I still want to do and see and some of that is hindered because depression gets in the way and some of it is hindered because I'm scared and find it hard to put myself out there and some of it is hindered because... honestly, how much do I care when I could be curled up on the sofa with Netflix?
But I am trying to push myself out of my comfort zone, as my therapist encourages me to do, and not give up yet because I've been helpfully told "You're a long time dead." It's midlife, it's arthritis and bad vision and being tired and all of it. I think maybe you need a change, my friend. I sure know I do.
If it’s any comfort, Beth, after cataract surgery I could drive at night again just fine. All my driving trouble was the noncorrectable astigmatism. Wish I’d had it done sooner. So tuck this one away for that moment when your eye doctor says that it’s up to you when you want to do it. As for the small life— maybe you’re ripe for trying something new? Or maybe you’d rather not push yourself for a change? Discontent, to me, usually signals a change is coming, and I need to keep eyes and ears peeled!
Beth - I can so relate to this. It’s been on my mind for months, and it’s prompted me to prepare a new class addressing this issue. You said it so well, and I am happy? to know it's not just me. Thank you!
And on a personal note - you mentioned PA and Penn State. Since I'm from State College I was just wondering ....
Oh, god. It creeps up on you, doesn't it? The no-driving-at-night-glares, the comfort craving, the thought that you're slowly turning into a slightly different version of your parents. Pretty soon, you'll be rocking bifocals, avoiding hearing aides, and muddling through Medicare options. It's easy to look back and focus on the coulda, woulda, shoulda's, to feel like you've missed some important opportunities along the way, or maybe that all your hard work didn't make much of a difference in the world. (I have a theory on that last item--that there are very, very few things that made a big difference in anything, but a ton of tiny items that made incremental changes that made amazing things become possible.)
Do you really want MORE? Or is it simply time for something else?
Maybe it's time for a little exploring...
I can relate! COVID shrank the world, and for those more inclined to introversion to begin with, inertia made it easier to keep things small. But I've learned I need novelty and stimulation as much as I need food, sleep and exercise. That has meant working harder than I'd like to admit to get myself to leave the house every day for live interactions, even micro ones. And returning to regular socializing, which has been a bit like going back to the gym after years of being a couch potato: I know it's good for me, but I often don't feel like doing it and have to force myself to show up. Like a trip to the gym, I'm always glad afterwards that I did it, but clearing the hurdle feels higher now than it used to. (Not coincidentally, actual working out requires a lot more pre- and post-workout effort than it used to!) Maybe that Denver drive daunts because you've done it a thousand times. It's not new. But Uber-ing back and forth there every now and again for, I don't know, a painting or photography class, a book talk, line dancing lessons (you laugh but my sisters dragged me to a group lesson when we all went to Nashville and...OMG I have to admit it was fun!) or a meet-up to play board games. I've been consistently surprised at how happy my brain feels when I give it some novelty. And as for changing the world, I'm with Missy: Most of us won't make the history books, yet our cumulative day-to-day efforts matter a ton. This is essentially what I took away from my dad's passing (when I was walking around, constantly saying, "What's the point of this? Does any of it matter?" and causing loved ones to worry about me): He was a pebble dropped in a huge lake, but he made quiet, consistent contributions that continue to ripple. I may never know how many people's lives he affected in a way that matters; I just know his influence extended far beyond what I grasped during his life.
And please forgive my pre-6 am failure to edit. ;)
Oh lord. Right there with you. We almost never go out at night anymore because we don't like driving--and it feels... pathetic. We happily watch Netflix most nights. My world has definitely shrunk, and I blame it on post-Covid malaise, but honestly it's really just me. And yet there's so much I still want to do and see and some of that is hindered because depression gets in the way and some of it is hindered because I'm scared and find it hard to put myself out there and some of it is hindered because... honestly, how much do I care when I could be curled up on the sofa with Netflix?
But I am trying to push myself out of my comfort zone, as my therapist encourages me to do, and not give up yet because I've been helpfully told "You're a long time dead." It's midlife, it's arthritis and bad vision and being tired and all of it. I think maybe you need a change, my friend. I sure know I do.
If it’s any comfort, Beth, after cataract surgery I could drive at night again just fine. All my driving trouble was the noncorrectable astigmatism. Wish I’d had it done sooner. So tuck this one away for that moment when your eye doctor says that it’s up to you when you want to do it. As for the small life— maybe you’re ripe for trying something new? Or maybe you’d rather not push yourself for a change? Discontent, to me, usually signals a change is coming, and I need to keep eyes and ears peeled!
Beth - I can so relate to this. It’s been on my mind for months, and it’s prompted me to prepare a new class addressing this issue. You said it so well, and I am happy? to know it's not just me. Thank you!
And on a personal note - you mentioned PA and Penn State. Since I'm from State College I was just wondering ....