WHEN SHOULD YOU…

Embrace your midlife crisis

Motorbike? Check. Younger girlfriend? Check. Spiritual transformation, career change, drum kit? Check, check, check. It wasn’t like I consciously set out to do it, but between 35 and 40, I managed to accumulate most of the cliched symbols of a male midlife crisis.

The midlife crisis is often seen in a comical light, with visions of balding men trying to reclaim their youth, doing things they should have long outgrown.

But, for me, it was an important life stage, a rite of passage that should be as worthy of celebration as becoming an adult or getting married.

The Cambridge Dictionary defines midlife crisis as: “Feelings of unhappiness, worry and disappointment that some people experience at about 40 years old, and that can sometimes lead them to make important changes in their life.”

People recognise that their lives are about halfway over and start to panic.

But rather than seeing it as an embarrassing setback or distraction, we should embrace this opportunity for change.

TOO OLD TO BE YOUNG, TOO YOUNG TO BE OLD

We often think of the subject of a midlife crisis as being married and perhaps stuck in a rut at work, feeling old before their time, and wanting to cut loose.

But at 35, I was stubbornly holding on to my youth. I hadn’t settled down, was drunk several times a week, and was DJing in bars on the weekends.

Instead of realising I had let my youth go too soon, it was more that I had held on to it for too long.

I realised I didn’t want to be a 50-year-old

DJ, living for the weekend, and shuffling through the week like a zombie. This revelation struck on my 35th birthday. Rather than being uplifted by the wild partying like I used to be, I felt increasingly self-conscious, even paranoid. I didn’t like any of the records I played, and no-one else seemed to either.

The next day, I quit DJing and smoking, though I wasn’t quite ready to give up booze, and started thinking about what a new version of me could look like.

In each of the areas below, I experienced different levels of bafflement or questioning from friends for the changes I was making. But each has had a lasting impact, still felt 10 years later.

PHYSICAL

Twenty years of smoking and no exercise meant I cut a sorry sight as a runner – wheezing, hobbling and managing only a few laps of the park in my inappropriate street shoes.

I couldn’t run for more than five minutes, but I gradually got better until I managed a marathon just over a year later.

Exercise and the endorphins it provided had a profound effect on my sense of wellbeing. I found I could change my mood positively without ingesting anything. It gave me the energy and optimism to make other changes.

Nine years later, running is still a part of my routine as I train for my third marathon.

Quitting smoking was surprisingly easy, but it took a few more years to kick the more insidious habit of drinking. But both changes have had hugely positive effects.

MENTAL

After exercise, came a mental overhaul. It started with insights gained from personality tests such as the Enneagram, and developed through studying neuro-linguistic programming and positive psychology.

I learnt I had all these limiting beliefs I wasn’t aware of. Things like “I can’t have fun or relax without alcohol” or “I’m too old to change careers”.

This developed into an interest in mindfulness and meditation. I learnt that I was more than the sum of my thoughts, and could let go of them rather than spiralling as I used to.

SPIRITUAL

The biggest shift came when I found meditation. In my partying days, I tried to get out of my mind in other ways, but meditation let me do it without a sore head. Rather than numbing my mind,

I could move above thought into realms of silence.

I found myself much more adaptable, and with mental space and energy to pursue interests outside of work, such as training to become a meditation teacher.

If a booze-soaked wretch like me could make such changes through meditation, what changes could I help others make as a teacher?

MIDLIFE TO REST OF LIFE

We often feel social pressure to maintain consistency in our attitudes and behaviours. It’s easier for others to categorise us if we don’t change.

But if we find the courage to subvert people’s expectations, and break free from the moulds we have made for ourselves, we can adapt to our changing needs and desires as we age.

What would life be like if we lived every day as a midlife crisis? What if all options were on the table all of the time? How would that free us?

Rory Kinsella is a meditation teacher and the creator of We Meditate to Quit Alcohol, we-meditate.co.