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Comfort in middle-life 

Life was much simpler when you just had to put up with your share because that’s just how things were.

Life was much simpler when you just had to get up in the morning, make breakfast, wake up the kids, take them to school, go to work, fetch the kids, juggle them to every need and whim, think of what to make for dinner, run the bath, keep up a chin at family time and drop exhausted into bed thanking God tomorrow was Friday and then dreading Monday all Sunday afternoon.

All you had to do was what you had to do, no time for questioning or doubting at all. Once in a while on a vacation you would peek out from under the clouds and wonder what if and why didn’t you, but these were drowned out by the alarm clock reminding you it was time to live.

How could you ask yourself about the ultimate meaning of life, if life itself was banging on your door, overflowing every cup?

Now even waking up takes the question: getting up for what? “You’re thinking too much girl!”,says Grandmother and “Too much thinking can bring you no good”. ‘Tis true that once the machine is put into motion, it doesn’t stop. And when the deed is done, the satisfaction is great.

Much simpler it used to be, much simpler, yet was it free? Was it rich? Now life is calling to you, full of possibilities, open to a new life. It is scary to decide, to take responsibility, to know that you were the one who came to this earth, and that now you have something to give back. Make a difference. “Yes”, you call out, “but how?” Just be yourself, “but who am I?”

That is for you to discover. This is not a time for depression and longing for what has been. This is a time for reaping what you have sown, for dancing in mirth and basking in the sun, for others to take over your heavy loads and to allow yourself to rest in your laurels. This is not a time for blaming life for what was not, this, as always, is the time for living. For doing what has to be done. It may not be so obvious, it may not be so clear, but life is there, in all its splendour, ready for you to hop on its carrousel and start spinning. You might not have the perfect eyes to see or the sharpest ears to hear, but you can still feel as ever the pounding of the heart within, ever loyal, ever firm, beating your base rhythm. It is up to you to now call forth the orchestra and play up the full song.

“Yes, but what song should I sing?”, cries the mouse. Aha! That is the question. Let the quest not trouble you, do not make it your worry. Allow yourself to flow to the rhythm of your soul, believe in it, it will take you where you want to go.

“I cannot swim!” cries the kitten. So take up your boat and muster your oars and pull yourself gently to the side of the cliff.

“I cannot climb!” cries the hippo. So get into your space craft, hang on to the balloon, knowing you can pull the strings to bring you down to earth.

“And what about the eagle? I cannot soar like him”, cries the humming bird.

All kinds fit into Noah’s ark, all are worthy of his trust. Just relax, have faith, enjoy, be grateful for all that is.


by Sylvia, August 2013

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