Sometimes we think we have it sorted … at last. And then those multiple horsemen of the midlife apocalypse come riding in again, wiping out the life we have already rebuilt once before.
Maybe it’s one of the items from Queenager bingo which I wrote about recently: divorce, bereavement, redundancy, coping with elderly parents needing care and dying, the mental health issues of Gen Z – not to mention our own health issues (including menopause), financial disaster or other abuse.
And of course we know from our NOON research that those who go through the most collisions end up the happiest, in a profoundly different but better place.
But I’ve been thinking trying to hold that hope this week as the midlife maelstrom has been raging around me and those I love – again.
A shocking text
On Wednesday I woke to a text from one of my best friends in the world, saying her beloved older sister (also a good mate of mine) had died suddenly of a brain aneurism in the night. Aged only 54.
The loss is so epic and so random.
This Queenager was a single parent to twin 18-year-old boys. She was the pin-up girl for midlife health: a yoga and Pilates instructor, a golden precious force. I don’t understand how one minute she was here – living her life, starting a new business, in her brave Queenager prime, a loving mum, friend, sister, daughter, auntie – and now she isn’t.
How can we hold onto hope?
I talk a lot about following our joy; trying to make sure that every day we do something we love, something just for us which brings us a shot of pure happiness, right here, right now. It’s why I swim in the pond in the cold every day: The sun on the golden leaves, the inky feathers of the heron, sparkling water and now, frost. As the Mexicans put it: Pura Vida – pure life. This is particularly important during tough times. To help us hold the hope.
It’s easy to feel downcast, weighed down by grief or lack or a sense that things aren’t as they should be. Particularly when (mid)life throws as a googly – or two or three all at once.
Speaking at a City Women’s Network event on Wednesday last week about NOON, my book and Queenagers at HSBC in Canary Wharf, I spoke with one woman whose husband had just left — after 30 years! She was devastated, shocked, in free fall.
My husband is still very much mourning his dear mother. He feels ok until he tries to do anything and then his brain just can’t engage. He‘s exhausted, his whole foundation rocked by the absence of that most primary of tethers: His mum.
And as I write this I am about to have lunch with another pal, one whose mum died last Friday.
What to do when midlife collisions keep coming
So for me the clusterfxxk has been out in force this past week (you may have noticed that there is a global aspect to this…).
It’s made me ask the question: What can we do in the midst of all of this?
In the first instance, our main task is to comfort and support those we love. Taking time to be there is key — whether that’s in a sitting room, a hospital, a hospice or on the phone. Having those difficult conversations. Being the shoulder to cry on. Showing up.
And second – in doing all of that – to look after ourselves with compassion. Making sure we are replenishing our own stores. To remember we can’t pour from an empty cup.
Is it time to stop fighting?
A phrase popped out at me while I was reading the other day: “Stop fighting, surrender control. Accept and allow what is.”
Let’s just repeat that: Allow what is.
Don’t fight it or try to tell a different story about it or deny it. Just soften around it and allow it to be.
It’s so simple to write and so hard to do. I spend so much time trying to resist or pretend some things aren’t happening. But it’s profoundly liberating when we do manage to allow what is.
We waste so much of our lives running away from or numbing ourselves so as not to feel pain. Try the radical approach of embracing it and seeing what it might show you.
So whatever is bothering or weighing on you right now, try simply being here with whatever it is. Go towards it, however painful. Feel it, allow it in.
The other side of loss in all its agony is a space for something new – if we hold still and let it in.
How ‘feeling it’ helped one Queenager start anew
I was talking to one of our Queenagers last week who had been suddenly made redundant from a job that had defined her. After some shock and sadness she’s decided that rather than get another job, she’s going to downsize her house, put money in the bank, go abroad, visit her daughter and tack on a round-the-world trip while she’s at it.
“I realised life is short and that because of all the stories I’ve heard at NOON about different kinds of reinventions, I can do something different,” she told me. “I can have a more me-focussed and purposeful next chapter.”
I love that.
Wise words from one of the NOON team
Another phrase which has been spinning round my head – this time courtesy of Lesley Thomas – our lovely yoga teacher that many of you know from our Wasing and Wales retreats. She says: “You already have everything you need.”
That is so true. As long as we are still here, surrounded by those we love or feeling love for them in our hearts – family, our #Queenager tribe, friends – we have abundant riches.
Check in with yourself now
So if you are feeling overwhelmed, don’t despair. Come along to one of our NOON Circles or Christmas events (book below). Join a walk. Sign up for our online Book Club on December 9th.
Remember you are not alone … and you already have everything you need. You might just need to redeploy it!
And to those who mourn – we send you so much love and light in the darkness.
Best,
Eleanor
Eleanor Mills is Founder of NOON, Queenager-in-chief, campaigner, writer, award-winning editor, author of Much More to Come: Lessons on the mayhem and magnificence of midlife published by HarperCollins 1 Aug 2024.
