Midlife Mastery Journal

The Scariest Hallowe'en Ever

Saturday was the first (and the biggest) costume party of the Halloween season around here. I went as the scariest thing I could think of: the New York Stock Exchange. Sadly, I didn't win the 'Scariest Costume' prize . . . I lost out to a store-bought devil. I'm not sure whether this particular devil was scarier because he was a product of the world economy (probably manufactured in China) or because he was a biblically-inspired manifestation of 'creatures from the id' (as in the 1956 sci-fi/horror film, Forbidden Planet). Either way, as a student of human nature, I found it fascinating that people would be more frightened of a manifestation of their own subconscious mythology than of the reality of losing their financial security for the foreseeable future. As Alice was wont to exclaim: "Curiouser and curiouser!"

The more I've been able to delve into the deeper regions of the midlife transition to find the motivator that supplies all the necessary psychic energy to power midlife crises in both women and men, I keep coming up with the same inexhaustible and eternally-renewable energy source: fear. Because this primordial fear of losing out (. . . on what? on life? . . . ), most people would rather deal with fantasy horror, like slasher movies and the scare-yourself-silly Stephen King genre than get down there where the real threats to your relationships, your career, and your personal health and well-being lie.

Life Is Change (Stagnation Equals Death)

We humans have a morbid fascination with security. What's this all about? As you look more closely at how we define 'security' for ourselves, you can begin to learn what it is you really mean when you say that you're working to provide a secure future for your family. Doesn't it mean that you have sufficient income (for now and for the future) not just to provide you and your family with the necessities of life, but also both to maintain your lifestyle at its current level, but also to provide the other members of your family with those benefits you want them to have (like advanced schooling)?

Doesn't it mean having a stable family life? How about having access to the kinds of health care and preventive programs that will best promote the health and well-being of you and your family members? Shall I continue? Doesn't 'security' imply not only freedom from crime and attacks, but also the freedom to pursue your favorite sports, hobbies, and pastimes? In short, doesn't 'security' imply to you maintaining at least the quality of life to which you've become (or wish to become) accustomed?

The Threat of Abundance

I am a very fortunate guy . . . I really should say that I'm extremely blessed. I live in a modest but lovely home in a summer resort one mile from a beautiful beach. I'm have a relationship that's stable and loving with a level of communication and mutual appreciation and understanding that's continually deepening. I don't make very much money, but I have work that's engaging and fulfilling and keeps me in contact with an ever-expanding circle of friends and acquaintances around this country, and in various other countries both on this continent and in Europe. I have good friends. I have good health. In terms of what any human being could want out of life, I pretty much have it all, and I'm extremely grateful for all of it.

For as long as I can remember, I've been convinced that at the core of whatever success I may enjoy in life lies an intimate connection to a Higher Power. I have learned — sometimes through painful experience — that maintaining that connection is the sine qua non of all the other beneficial aspects that give my life the meaning and direction . . . and the benefits . . . that I so enjoy. And yet, the stresses and preoccupations of that life often become so intrusive that I find myself without the time or opportunity for prayer and meditation. When it's missing, I feel it. Nothing horrible happens: the world doesn't come crashing down around my ears. Yet, the inner focus that I've so come to depend on gradually blurs until I feel like the demands and stresses of life are starting to pull me apart from the inside.