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Your second half. The words alone can stir up a mix of feelings—disbelief, anxiety, nostalgia, maybe even excitement and anticipation. For many, it’s a time of reflection, a period where we take stock and consider what comes next. But what if midlife isn’t about winding down? What if it’s just the beginning? What if you’re just getting started?
Reframing midlife
In our youth-worshiping culture, midlife often gets a bad rap. It's portrayed as a period of decline, a time when our best years are behind us. But what if we flipped the script? What if midlife is actually a launchpad for new relationships and adventures, a time when our potential and possibilities are greater than ever? And what if we recognized that for some of us, true understanding and growth don't come until now, making us late bloomers finally ready to flourish?
Celebrating the late bloomer
In a world that often glorifies early success, being a late bloomer can feel like running against the tide. But there’s profound beauty in flourishing later in life. Late bloomers bring a wealth of life experience, resilience, and depth to their endeavours. They’ve spent years gathering wisdom, refining their skills, and understanding their true selves. When they finally bloom, it’s with a clarity and richness that’s uniquely powerful. Whether it’s embarking on a new career, discovering a hidden talent, or finding a deeper purpose, late bloomers remind us that it’s never too late to start anew.
Embracing change and reconnecting with yourself
Midlife can be a time of profound growth and transformation. It’s an opportunity to reassess what truly matters, reignite our passions, and revisit what is meaningful to us. The experiences and wisdom we’ve gathered aren’t weights holding us down—they’re wings that can help us soar.
One of the most powerful aspects of midlife is our ability to embrace change. By this stage, we often have a clearer - and hard won - sense of who we are and what we value. We’re less concerned with external validation and more focused on internal fulfilment. This clarity gives us the courage to make bold, intentional changes.
And if that clarity around identity and values eludes us? Midlife is also a time to reconnect with our true selves. After years of playing various roles—parent, partner, professional—it’s easy to lose sight of who we are at our core. Now is the perfect time to rediscover our authentic selves and let that authenticity guide our actions.
Reflect on:
- What values are most important to me now?
- How do I want to be remembered?
- What lights me up? What breaks my heart?
When we align our lives with our true values, we create a future that feels deeply fulfilling and true to who we are.
Cultivating resilience and living with intention
Life’s challenges don’t stop at midlife. If anything, they can become more complex. But with age comes resilience. We’ve faced setbacks before, and we’ve learned that we can overcome them. This resilience is a powerful tool that can help us navigate the uncertainties and opportunities of midlife with grace and strength.
Perhaps the most exciting aspect of midlife is the chance to live with intention. With fewer societal pressures and a deeper understanding of ourselves, we can make choices that truly reflect our desires and aspirations. This intentionality can transform our daily lives, making each moment more meaningful and enriching.
“But while we have no control over time itself, we do have a choice in how we orient to it, how we inhabit the moment, how we own the past and open to the future - a choice that shapes our entire experience of life, that ossuary of time. And just as it bears remembering that there are infinitely many kinds of beautiful lives, it bears remembering that there are infinitely many ways of being in time.” - Maria Popova, The Marginalian
Change of environment
I put on my ski gear, and pull my boot bag up on my back. Covered head to toe, I step outside. My skis are perched on my left shoulder, and my poles are in my right hand. I walk carefully down the snowy path and up through the village to the lift. It’s a sacred ten minutes of meditative rhythmic walking to warm me up for the day ahead.
New snow has fallen – about twenty centimetres. The snow cats have groomed the mountain during the night. It’s early and I'll be on the first lift up to the slopes.
This is the change of environment I crave the most at this time in my life. The movement from posed stability to energetic vulnerability, from the familiar to the serendipitous unknown, from the routine to the spontaneous. Here on the mountain I feel like I live life to its fullest. I feel more alive here than anywhere else. Curiosity is my catalyst — I could rest today, I could contemplate other days gone by, but I'm curious: What will the snow be like? What will my balance and form be like? What shapes of clouds will appear? What breeze will freeze my nose? Where will the trail take me? It is ski season; adventurous, mysterious and invigorating. It provides another form of lifestyle filled with the sort of vulnerability I love.
Of course everyone knows that change is constant, but there is nowhere else in the world where I see, feel, hear, touch and taste this truth more clearly than here on the side of my favourite mountain.
This magic mountain that I've skied for years and years changes all the time. It's ironic really, as it is made of stone and rock, ice and dirt - elements so strong and stable, so unmoving and unbudgeable, so unforgiving and invincible, yet it is forever changing. Of course everyone knows that change is constant, but there is nowhere else in the world where I see, feel, hear, touch and taste this truth more clearly than here on the side of my favourite mountain. Such a curious phenomenon — this alpine environment that moves and changes constantly, just like me. The weather forecast looks good today, colder than yesterday, but mostly sunny in the morning with the wind rising in the afternoon. Of course, this could change too.
Letting change flow
Arriving at the base of the mountain, I put on my ski boots, tuck my shoes away for the day, and once again perch my skis on my shoulder. I use my poles to help me navigate the steps up to the gates; it’s the beginning of the season and this morning routine of getting to the lifts still has me feeling a bit winded as I get used to the altitude. My friend is waiting for me. She and I smile brightly at each other and, seconds later, the buzzer goes off and the gates are activated. We are the first ones through, proud of ourselves for our early rising and excited to experience the thrill of another ski day together. We banter about the beautiful day ahead, our slight aches and pains and need for some stretching.
My friend is confident and bold — an expert skier. Me, I am not as confident and I am no expert. But I am bold, and she inspires me. Most of all, I am grateful for the change of scenery, communing with nature and the joy of being together again on the mountain.
Tensing up in anticipation of a coming bump or turn will surely cause a fall. The key to serenity on skis is letting change flow, becoming one with the change, and then being the change.
As we descend each run at our own pace, our skis pushing us beyond our unique comfort zones, we each experience individualized moments in the quiet rhythm of skiing. Every day on the slope is different, every turn of every carve into the snow is different, at times smooth and other times choppy. At all times, our minds must stay connected to our bodies. It is invigorating and mystifying, as we must disconnect from all worries and all other actions and stay absolutely present. Tensing up in anticipation of a coming bump or turn will surely cause a fall. The key to serenity on skis is letting change flow, becoming one with the change, and then being the change.
After a few hours of skiing our favourite trails, I tell my friend I want to stop at a lookout spot, not because I’m tired but because I want to breathe in my surroundings. She says she’ll let me have a bit of alone time and we decide she’ll do another run and meet me back here. The sky is vast and filled with a multitude of blue hues, the clouds are fantastical and bright white. The fresh cold air is thinner up here; it smells minty as it passes through my nostrils and it tastes minerally as it drips down my throat. The steam rises from my scarf as I breathe in and out, feeling the warmth of my body. This change of environment is essential to my well-being. It’s not just any change of environment though.
Chrono-diversity
It’s being up at altitude that thrills me most. The physicist Carlo Rovelli in his book “The Order of Time” captures the essence of my pause at the lookout spot. He writes,
“I stop and do nothing. Nothing happens. I am thinking about nothing. I listen to the passing of time. This is time, familiar and intimate. We are taken by it…. Our being is being in time.”
I lived and worked in this village just below the slopes for ten years, all through my thirties, and now that I am retired, I return here as much as possible. Initially when I moved away, down to sea level and no longer at altitude, it took me a long time to adjust and to adapt to being in a different time zone, but not just a different chronometric time zone, but a different “chrono-atmospheric” time zone.
I am fascinated by the way Rovelli explains how altitude changes time. He writes, “Let’s begin with a simple fact: time passes faster in the mountains than it does at sea level…
I am fascinated by the way Rovelli explains how altitude changes time. He writes, “Let’s begin with a simple fact: time passes faster in the mountains than it does at sea level… This slowing down can be detected between levels just a few centimetres apart: a clock placed on the floor runs a little more slowly than one on a table. It is not just the clocks that slow down: lower down, all processes are slower.”
When I read this, I started to understand and accept why I had found it so challenging to transition from life up on the mountain to life in the valley. All of my processes had to become slower; my mental and physical, even spiritual relationships towards time had to change in order for me to adapt and to adjust to my new surroundings. It was a very unnerving time at first, and I found myself longing to return to the mountains. Despite the fact that I enjoyed my new job, raising my children and making new friends in a different culture, my personal processes, like my coping mechanisms, had slowed down and I needed to give myself time to accept the newness of this “chrono-diversity” at sea level.
Some consider winter a time to slow down and rest, imitating elements of nature that hibernate and tuck in to escape the cold. But for me, it is this change of environment, this other way of being in time, this speeding up and expanding of time, that I long for in the winter months.
During those years, my friend stayed in the mountains; she never returned to life in the valley. And I believe this makes us different in the way we now measure time. Maybe her time does actually pass more quickly than mine? She is a speed queen and can get a million things done in one day. She thinks faster than I think, and certainly skis faster than I ski.
Some consider winter a time to slow down and rest, imitating elements of nature that hibernate and tuck in to escape the cold. But for me, it is this change of environment, this other way of being in time, this speeding up and expanding of time, that I long for in the winter months. It’s the rigour and rhythm of mountain time. Rovelli writes,
“Two friends separate, with one of them living in the plains and the other going to live in the mountains. They meet up again years later: the one who has stayed down has lived less, aged less, the mechanism of his cuckoo clock has oscillated fewer times. He has had less time to do things, his plants have grown less, his thoughts have had less time to unfold ... Lower down, there is simply less time than at altitude.”
I guess the proof is “in the physics.” As I’ve learned, it is the changeability of time in the mountains that keeps me skiing through life. Even if it seems a bit ironic and mysterious to me, I imagine I will always feel this type of change to be constant in my life. Though I suppose, that could change too.
Navigating midlife malaise
As we hit our 40s and 50s, that intriguing space between young and old, we often find ourselves with a case of what we’ll call midlife malaise. It's the time when you start questioning yourself, feeling a bit restless, and experiencing a touch of discontent. We all go through it. It's like this inner tug-of-war, where you look back at your life's journey and wonder if you've been on the right track, achieved what you set out to, or if there's something even more meaningful waiting for you to uncover. In her blog, Pat Katz describes midlife malaise as “that experience of rusting out—feeling uninspired, apathetic, disinterested—coasting on autopilot or just plain stuck.”
Pat Katz describes midlife malaise as “that experience of rusting out—feeling uninspired, apathetic, disinterested—coasting on autopilot or just plain stuck.”
Something doesn't feel quite right, but you can't put your finger on it. Midlife malaise can manifest in many ways. Some experience it as a sense of unfulfillment in their career or personal life, while others may grapple with existential questions about purpose and mortality. It's essential to recognize that experiencing these feelings is entirely normal and a sign that you are evolving as a person. Rather than viewing it as a crisis, consider it an opportunity to reassess priorities, course correct, and lead a fulfilling life.
Midlife malaise isn't something to dread; it's a chance for personal growth and self-discovery. Life's dips are as common as a change in seasons, and they usually pass faster than you think. By harnessing this phase as a catalyst for self-examination and change, you can come out of it stronger, more purposeful, and with a clearer sense of where you're headed. Embrace the journey of rediscovering yourself, align your goals with your values, and remember, it's never too late to craft a more fulfilling and meaningful life.
Renewing your midlife spirit
Hold yourself capable. No one’s coming to lead you through midlife. If you're feeling the itch of discontent or questioning the impact of your choices, the power to recalibrate lies squarely with you. Dive into those emotions, ponder them, and don't shy away from the discomfort; it's the very spark that ignites transformation. That doesn’t mean you need to go it alone - seeking out wisdom and support is an important part of resourcing yourself for the journey - but the leadership is yours.
Lead the whole you. Leading yourself through midlife means taking care of your whole self, beyond your career or external achievements. It requires nurturing your emotional health, fostering meaningful relationships (heart), maintaining physical well-being (body), continuous learning (mind), and preserving your sense of life's purpose (soul).
Ask the big questions. Midlife malaise can be your cue for some soul-searching. Consider rolling up your sleeves and asking yourself those big questions:
- What's at the core of what truly matters to me?
- If I only had a short time left on earth, how (and with whom) would I choose to invest it?
- Am I walking the path that aligns with my core values?
- What dreams and aspirations still await their turn in the spotlight?
Reevaluate your goals and priorities. As you reflect, you may find that some of your goals and priorities have shifted over the years. Things that used to be tremendously important to you may no longer be. Use this period of midlife malaise to reevaluate your aspirations. Are there new directions you'd like to pursue or old ones you'd like to revisit, or let go of altogether? Realigning your goals can reignite your sense of purpose and motivation.
Seek professional guidance. Midlife malaise can be challenging to navigate on your own. Consider seeking the help of a coach or therapist who specializes in midlife transitions. They can provide valuable insights, strategies, and support to help you navigate this phase with greater clarity.
Open your mind. The research is conclusive: the biggest factor in determining whether we have a positive or negative midlife transition is how we view aging. People who focus on what aging takes away will have a harder time with midlife than those who acknowledge (even appreciate) the opportunity aging provides. Midlife malaise often occurs when we resist change or cling to outdated beliefs and habits. Embrace the idea that change is a natural part of life and that adaptability is key. By releasing the shackles of certainty and being open to trying new experiences, exploring new interests, and stepping out of your comfort zone, you can navigate midlife with a sense of curiosity and possibility.
Double down on your relationships. Midlife is a golden opportunity to invest in (or rekindle) relationships. Reach out to your loved ones, friends and family. Share what's on your mind, let them in on your feelings, and be all ears when they share their own journeys. These meaningful connections are like a lifeline, offering emotional support and a deep sense of belonging, which can be your secret weapon in tackling midlife malaise head-on.
Ready for a new beginning?
Midlife doesn’t have to be a time of winding down. Instead, it can be a time of new beginnings, a period where we harness our accumulated wisdom and experience to create a life that’s rich with meaning and joy. By reframing our perspective, embracing change, reconnecting with our earlier visions for our life, cultivating resilience, and living with intention, we can embark on an exciting new chapter—one that’s just getting started.
Peace in your journey.
