I’ve Wasted My Life!
March 21st, 2010
Have you ever taken a look back at all the twists and turns that your life has taken, and said to yourself, “What was all that about?” I know that I have . . . many times. When I used to think back to all the schooling I had and the work I did to prepare for my chosen profession and consider the relatively short period of time I actually spent in that profession before walking away from it, I would wonder what good it did me. When I remembered all the skills I developed from one career to the next, skills I’ll probably never used again in my life, I wonder what for. When I think back on all the crud I put up with from the ‘significant others’ in my life who eventually were never to be seen or heard from again (often thankfully), it would seem like such a waste. And then, when I considered all the hours I spent sweating and grunting and groaning in the gym and then look at the body I’ve wound up with, I certainly could have some serious doubts about what I ultimately gained from it.
The coming of midlife, when life’s pathways begin to diverge seriously from the map we’ve so carefully crafted for ourselves, brings with it the equivalent of an ‘engraved invitation’ to indulge ourselves in a virtual orgy of self-doubt. At these times of reflection, we’re tempted to look at all the personal resources that we’ve expended over the years to live up to expectations — from others (parents, teachers, spiritual and civic leaders, ‘gurus’ of various flavors, elders, mentors, friends, etc.) as well as from our own egos — and to question most seriously what it was all for. Over the years, haven’t I repeatedly just wasted my money, my blood, sweat, and tears, and, most precious of all to me, my time? Poet Robert Frost wrote about the ‘road not taken,’ but, at midlife we start to think back more frequently concerning the ‘road once taken, but abandoned.’ Was it worth it? Not so much. Is there an answer?
When I woke up this morning, I was surprised to find that it was an hour later than I thought it was. Of course, I forgot to turn my clocks ahead last night before I went to bed. But life is all about waking up to surprises, isn’t it? Nothing turns out the way you anticipate that it will. The challenge that each one of us faces — and that challenge that erupts in the midlife transition — is to see the way things turn out as better than what we had expected. That’s not as simple and straight-forward as simply walking around the house, re-setting the clocks to daylight saving time. No, indeed!
Gone for good are the days of pappa and his baggy slacks and suspenders, waist hitched up half-way to his nipples, sporting a fedora and sucking on a stogy. Vanished too are the ankle-length plain black dresses accessorized with the equivalent of high-heeled combat boots. The image of the two of them, rocking side by side on the veranda stays absolutely stuck in your mind. That Grandma and Grandpa image is so last century! Now, as long as we’ve taken care of ourselves, we’re doing other kinds of rockin’ . . . if we’ve both still got the energy when we get home from work. When they say that 60 is the new 50, they ain’t kidding! The retirement train has left the station, and, if you’re not already on it, you’ve probably missed it for good. That paradigm has done shifted.
That is the cry of the “innocent victim” . . . most often followed by, “After all I’ve done for you!” Does this sound at all familiar? You generally can hear this coming out of your mouth after someone has dropped a ‘but bomb‘ on you. Seldom can you see a ‘but bomb’ coming; but when it hits, it sounds like this: You yell it at your spouse when s/he says: “I still love you BUT I’m not in love with you anymore.” You yell it at your boss when s/he says: “You’ve been a great asset to the company BUT your position has been eliminated.” Or, you yell it at God when your doctor syas: “It’s probably nothing BUT I’d like to see you in my office right away for more tests.”
If you haven’t yet noticed my attraction to silly things, let me now bring it to your attention. I discovered a long time ago that, very often, silly things contain far more wisdom than sensible things. It’s one of the great ironies of our universe. Take, for example, that incredibly silly series of books by Douglas Adams that goes by the title The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. There’s enough silliness (and, consequently, wisdom) in those pages to last a person the better part of a lifetime. Take, for example, the excerpt from the Guide that appears in the third book of the trilogy (Life, The Universe, and Everything) under the heading “RECREATIONAL IMPOSSIBILITIES.” According to Adams, the Guide says this about flying: “There is an art, . . . or, rather, a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.”*
