I am an eternal optimist. Not in the life coachy, post every positive energy mantra into my Facebook status kind of way. Just always believe that if you keep the sinister cynical dogs at bay and look for the quality in people, without being naïve or just a plain goofy idiot, good things will happen and happen for a reason. I also am pragmatic enough to know that optimism is not a magical elixir that turns dreams to reality and because there are some truly awful and evil people in this world, remaining a wee bit wary is wise.
I really have no idea where I am going with this. Just that some recent events have opened the doors for some analysis of what the hell I am doing with my life. You can see why between ages 40 and 50 are the prime years of the mid-life crisis with 46 being historically the winning age. (Three more years Steph! Get me a Corvette and a secretary stat!). There is so much pressure at this age, as a parent, a partner, a professional, a son, a friend. I want to please everyone so much (suddenly my blog has become my therapist) but sometimes feel my own wants and desires are lost in the maelstrom.
Ok tut tutters, before you start lambasting me about parenting being about sacrifice and that once that cranium passed through the ring of fire that all bets about my own innate options were off. I get it. We had kids, we racked up debt, we want nice things, we need jobs that pay a certain amount to be able survive this laffy taffy-like imbroglio.
Unrealistic as it may be, I can still hold dearly the image of kissing Steph goodbye while wearing a beige cable knit sweater and red ball cap as she heads out to her flower/bookstore called Petals and Pages before I hunker down to finish off my second best selling novel over looking the crashing ocean surf comfortably knowing our two boys are safe at leadership camp.
I can, can’t I?
Sorry, can’t hear you over the din of the food court minions in line for their General Tso chicken, green beans and rice.
I will do whatever I can to not explode, because I love my family and know that is enough to get me to the next step, the next chapter, whatever that may be.
I guess there is always the upcoming vasectomy to look forward to.
Wait,..what?
HA! That was an awesome post, Jason. I soooooooooooooo get where you’re coming from and although the stereotype is of a man in midlife crisis, I’m here to tell you it can happen to women too. And I never thought of it in terms of all the pressures we have heaped upon us from all angles, although that’s got to be part of what contributes to it.
But I’m with you on the optimism – never give up your dreams of Steph’s shop and your entering the literati. After all, never say never, right?
Relating to you in a HUGE way. Major stepping-back-perspective-getting-life-analysis going on in my life too, brother.