Leveling Up

I did it! I leveled up in senior citizenry. Five years ago, I was so excited to get my first AARP card. I was going to hit the town with all my shop and dine discounts AND get a free tote bag. Life was good! Fast forward, I didn't use the card once. Not one time. You see, at fifty, the discounts look more like 3% off the second Tuesday of the month at Muffler Man, and maybe a quarter cup of coffee (which I don't drink), at Mom & Pop's roadside cafe. As far as discounts were concerned, fifty was a big letdown. Little did I know, life was about to flip my apple cart. Health, career, personal relationships--nothing was spared. I don't want to bore you with all of my life lessons. While they may be instructive, they're also personal, and there’s only so much re-hashing for public enjoyment I would like to do. Also, what feels poignant to me may be boring to you since we all have our own demons to fight. What I will say, discounts aside, is my fifties have been the great equalizer.

I remember feeling doubtful and confused for most of my twenties. Mind you, I was still up for a party, and a chance to avoid assessing myself too deeply. Pretty sure that is what our twenties are for, to push as many limits as possible, while incrementally learning to be the responsible adults our parents long for. At 29, I looked back at my first real life-appraisal and went, “Woah, that was wild,” both for time passed, and emerging alive. Most of my friends married and started having children in their twenties. I was the bridesmaid, party planner, fun aunt, relieved to have a few more years to sew some oats, but also desperately awaiting my turn for everything I thought was somehow owed to me for my steadfast application of the be-everything-to everyone-principle. I wasn’t all fluff. I was quite serious about many things, many things that got me no closer to understanding who I was as a person.

In my thirties, I was very self-assured. As a new bride, and then a new mother, I was frazzled at home. However, having just landed a better job, I was smart, put together, capable, organized, and efficient at work. I didn’t realize then how much of my separate work and home lives bled into each other. Trying to master every domain, I also didn’t realize I was setting myself up to crash and burn. When I got to thirty-nine, I looked back and again said, “Woah, that was wild,” though it meant something completely different than the ten years before. My children had made it through most of childhood and were about to enter adolescence, and I had never felt more incapable and unprepared in my life.

My forties were when things really started to go sideways. Wah-wah-wah. I was still a master at multi-tasking, but my bag of tricks was tricking me. Strategies I had previously used to burn the candle at both ends were failing. At work, all I could think of was how I’d never catch up at home, and at home, all I could think of was how I’d never measure up at work. All parents do this to an extent. As my mother used to say, “Being a parent is just one giant guilt trip.” Yet, while I knew many people in the same boat, they all still seemed to be paddling, and I felt like I had fallen overboard and was sinking fast. I constantly set myself up to fail, by pushing my limits, never saying no to people who demanded more of me and overextending myself in every way possible. So, as I approached 50, I was ready for a break. A break and a big discount. Afterall, isn’t that how life works, rewarding those that work hard?

While I was nervous what it meant, I was thrilled to turn 50. As my mother would say, “It’s better than the alternative.” Mom was always good for a well-placed idiom. Plus, I was ready to cash in some big rewards. What I found was, no half-assed, twice-removed, full of contingencies discount could prepare me for the awful truth. Life didn’t owe me anything. It didn’t matter how hard I worked. Lots of people worked hard. It didn’t matter how badly I wanted the big payout. A lot of people wished for more. What mattered, for the first time in my life, is that I was 100% in charge of me, and I had to pay the price for lessons learned, in one way or another, whether I had a discount, or not. Maybe some people feel that at an early age. Maybe it has something to do with being the youngest of seven children, knowing there was always someone there looking out for me, but I never really felt in charge, or in control of me, even when I was trying to control everything else. I always felt like a teenager, waiting for life to start, and to simultaneously get easier, to feel like I thought my parents felt when they were my current age.

My parents hadn’t been around for ten years, but I still felt unequal in the had-it-all-together game of adulthood. I had been trudging along, holding out my hands saying, “Okay universe, hit me. I’m ready. Anytime now. Impart your wisdom on how to be an adult, and by all means, dial up those discounts and drop ‘em right here, baby. I did my time. I’ll be grateful, I promise.” Suddenly, I looked around and realized no one was coming. While I was on the edge of the building looking down, wondering when a good, swift wind would come along and make me lose my balance, I realized I could just step back, off the ledge. I could just decide to not even ride the elevator to the top floor, (even if I thought that was where they were handing out discounts). Or I could do something totally unexpected and just jump. Not in a sacrificial or suicidal way, but in an adventurous, ‘how long can I float’ kind of way. It’s always funny how reaching the next level of understanding my own consciousness, comes not after diligent study and reflection, but after taking a step and not knowing where my other foot may land.

It turns out the discounts do get better at 55, and better still at 60 and 65. It also turns out that jumping off the building was more fun that I thought. I still hopefully have many years before I hit the pavement. In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy the view on the way down, using wings I purchased with my 25% senior discount.