I turned 40 in September, which feels like a significant milestone. How do I make sense of this? What does this mean? I think about starting University in 2004, 20 years ago, which is exactly half my life ago. 2004 doesn’t feel that long ago. I think about my favourite albums or films that came out in 2004. And how long ago 1964 felt, 20 years from my birth. The ’60s seem like a foreign country, a completely different world. Which might be how the ’80s feel to someone born in 2004.
When I’ve told people I’m 40 some have told me they don’t believe it. Which might be them being polite, or perhaps I do look younger than my age. Our society values youth (‘it’s wasted on the young…’), so if someone says ‘Yes, you do look 40,’ they might mean it as an insult. I feel happy being 40 though. I have more wisdom than I did at 20, partly just from experience. But also because of my counselling journey. Seeking personal therapy and training to become a therapist, along with setting up my own business, has taught me so much about myself. Of course I’m still learning, and imagine I’ll never stop (until, of course, it all stops).
It was the autumn equinox recently, where the day and night are equally balanced at 12 hours. I find myself drawing parallels between the equinox and my own life this year, as 40 is often perceived as ‘middle’ aged. The autumn equinox is a time of balance, with spring behind and winter ahead. Many religions and cultures celebrate this time of year. I think for example about Persephone’s abduction to the underworld. Her mother, the harvest goddess Demeter, grieved deeply for the loss of her daughter. She refused to usher in spring until Persephone’s return. Eventually, Demeter struck a deal with Hades, lord of the underworld, so that Persephone spent half the year in the land of the living and half in the underworld. Spring signifies Persephone’s return and Demeter’s happiness.
September is a time for planting bulbs, which is such a hopeful act. We know winter will come, but we know too that it will pass and spring will return. I believe we can learn so much from this cycle. If we truly acknowledge that we will all die (that you will die, that I will die, not in an abstract sense) then we can enjoy life all the more. At the same time, perhaps paradoxically, I take comfort in the fact that after winter spring comes again. I do not mean literal reincarnation, but that life continues. We are all connected, in a very practical sense (spiritually too, if you like). To take a practical example: The bread you eat was sold by people working to make a living, made by a baker, the flour ground at a mill, the wheat was grown by farmers, the rain and soil and worms (and the whole ecosystem) was needed to grow it. Your life impacts many people, even if they do not ‘know’ you.
Turning 40 seems significant partly because it ends in a zero and starts with a new number. Which in some ways is arbitrary. What it means to me to be 40 is yes drawn from culture, time and place, but is also mine to make. Existentialism, which I draw heavily on for my counselling practice, says there is no inherent meaning in our lives. Instead, we have to create our own meaning out of meaninglessness. The psychotherapist Spinelli quotes the Tao Te Ching when writing about meaning/meaninglessness: “The way of life means continuing. Continuing means going far. Going far means returning.” I make of this that the connection between meaning and meaninglessness is relational/circular. That we cannot have one without the other, and that one is born from the other. The question ‘What does it mean to me to reach this milestone’ tells me there is no inherent meaning in reaching it, that on its own it is meaningless. But/and that it is for me to make something of it. This circle of meaning/meaninglessness reminds me of Persephone moving back and forth between the world and the underworld, and in Demeter allowing and refusing for plants to grow.
September then can feel like a time of beginnings/endings. For me particularly as it’s my birthday month and the changing of the seasons, it feels like the start of something new. And with all beginnings there are endings (I’m no longer in my ‘mid to late 30s’…). I love the feeling of autumn when the leaves start to turn, to fall, and crunch underfoot; when it’s sunny but the air is cold. I’m making time this week to declutter my closet, which feels appropriate for the season. It’s a real privilege to be able to take this time to reflect, declutter and try to re-balance. But each of us will have different reactions to the changing seasons. I know many people who gain so much joy from the sunshine. So while I start to feel cosy in layering up with jumpers and scarves, they start to feel less joy with the shortening of the days. I feel that too, but as someone with ginger hair and fair skin, I have a complicated relationship with the sunshine!
So far I have not had an existential crisis at turning 40 or being middle-aged, although of course that may be yet to come… But having a couple of friends with serious health issues recently has certainly been a ‘jump scare’. As well as being concerned for my friends, the experience has reminded me that I can easily fall into routines and forget, or not prioritise time, to reflect on who and what is important to me. But/and as a friend reminded me recently, the laundry still needs doing. I am always seeking to find a balance between self and others; between ‘work’ and ‘life’; between coffee with friends and taking the bins out; and between being intentional and drifting.
The (hopefully) increased awareness that can come with counselling can seem like a double-edged sword at times. For example, I sometimes ‘fall asleep’ to my own needs. Becoming aware of that through counselling has led to more bodily awareness, which is not always pleasant. It reminds me that it can be beneficial to fall asleep or become numb when there are unpleasant sensations. When I notice my sleepiness, I’m more likely these days to welcome it with curiosity than to collapse into it or fight it. I imagine how I would treat a hibernating creature, tucked safely asleep to protect itself against the cold.
Talking of balance, I’ve been going to a Pilates exercise group for a few months. The group has quickly become a valuable part of my routine. My back is sometimes a point of tension for me, so building up some more ‘core’ strength feels balancing. Two weeks ago though I twisted something in my back during the exercise class and had to spend the rest of the session mostly lying still. I could feel a pull towards collapsing emotionally and a desire to numb myself from the pain. But rather than be ‘pulled in’ by this I was thankfully able to bring awareness to it. I saw what was happening, and was able to treat myself more gently. Not wanting to experience pain is very understandable, after all. Rather than giving up or pushing through, I aimed to find a space in between where I could experience the pain and find the right way forward. Even if in the short term that meant the ‘path forward’ was lying completely still! Thankfully my back is a lot better now, but/and the path towards finding balance continues…
If you’re looking for help with balancing your life, feel free to contact me to set up an initial counselling session.