Things Change

I live in a neighborhood where people most often keep to themselves. There will be a friendly hello offered when you go by. People will occasionally stop for a short chat if you happen to be passing each other on the sidewalk. Two weeks ago, as I was walking up the street my neighbor A stepped out from behind her car and asked how I was doing. After the usual yada yada yadas, A suddenly said “Did I tell you I lost my job?”

A and I are roughly the same age. An age where, professionally, you’d like to think you’ve been around long enough and have gathered enough know-how that you are somehow irreplaceable. But sometimes, be it through budget cuts or other reasons, you find out you were wrong. As she told me about how she didn’t survive a round of layoffs in the place she had worked for 22 years, A shook her head and said “I never thought I’d find myself here at this age. I have no idea what I’m going to do.”

The conversation with A came just as I was debating being overdue for a career change. Work in the past few months has become challenging, due to some changes that have taken place that I don’t much agree with. I’ve been feeling a combination of both restless and undervalued. And the truth is I was feeling rather sorry for myself in a “What do I do?” quandary when A suddenly stepped out from behind her car for a chat. It was a quick reminder how lucky I am that any change I may/may not make is still my decision. The continuing problems with the economy have not left the many A’s of the world quite so fortunate.

Changing course at the midpoint of your life, whether it’s your own choice or someone else’s, is scary. Leaving behind a job that’s familiar and that’s left you with a bit of security when you are fiftyish leaves you more anxious than it might someone who’s 10 or 20 years younger. You question your marketability. You worry about financial obligations: mortgage, children, retirement. You ask yourself if you can afford to take less money to be in a position that leaves you feeling more fulfilled. Or for someone in A’s position, will there be no choice but to accept something that you are overqualified to do.

Most of us choose a career path in our early 20’s and hope for the best. We don’t mind working hard as long as we’re paid fairly and treated well for our efforts. We hope to enjoy ourselves a bit, expect our good work to be recognized and look forward to those rewards and perks we’re sure will be forthcoming. And as we age, we add in the expectations of having our opinions matter and our experience valued. But it doesn’t always work that way. Things change. Sometimes we bring about that change for ourselves and other times we don’t.

As for me, well, I haven’t quite figured out what my next steps are. In many ways, it feels like I’ve overstayed my welcome in my current position, somewhat like a party guest who arrived early, had a great time and is still trying to have fun long after all the other guests have gone home. I am overdue for a change, I’m just not sure yet what it is. And as for A, I saw her again yesterday and asked how she was doing. She smiled a bit and simply said “I’m doing the best I can.”

Two Faced

Have you ever looked at a picture of yourself and screamed out “OH MY GOD!! THAT’S ME?!”

If you’re over the age of 40, then of course you have. It’s quite shocking how shocked we can sometimes become when confronted by our own image. Why the surprise? It’s not like we’re not familiar with the physical changes that take place over time. We see ourselves every day. And yet, every now and then someone shows you a just-taken picture of yourself and you can’t help but wonder how so much could go so wrong so quickly.

And somehow, you didn’t notice.

We all carry around an image of ourselves in our heads. Maybe it’s an image of how we once looked, or the way we would like to think we appear. Often that image becomes trapped in a time-warp. Your drivers’ license may clearly state that 40 has come and gone but, in many ways, your head continues to whisper a soothing “Don’t worry, you still look like you did in college.” But then that photo or video hits you square in the crows’ feet and your disillusions disappear faster than a Lindsay Lohan rehab stint.

I bring this up, because recently there was a photo of me tagged on Facebook. I’m sitting in a chair at a christening party, a friend’s little toddler sitting next to me. We’re both smiling widely for the camera and no doubt, in my head I was imagining how some stranger might come across that picture one day and say “That little girl certainly has one handsome young-looking dad.”

Not quite.

Instead, anyone looking at that photo pretty much has three options for comments:
• “Someone ought to tell grandpa to stop hitting the carbs.”
• “Isn’t that the same skin color they put on Robert Pattinson for the Twilight movies?”
• “Dude, your forehead goes all the way to the back of your head.”

It felt like someone took the image I carry in my head and exposed it to some age progression technology. A lot of it. This couldn’t be the guy who’s teeth I brush every day or whom I give a seductive wink to in the mirror on the days I think he looks particularly debonair. The guy I usually envision is still vibrant, with a thick head of hair and skin as smooth as the chest of a just-waxed Chelsea boy before heading out on a Saturday night. And the guy in the pic is, well, not.

It took a little while - and a lot of wine - before coming to the realization there is a good side to these confrontations with our own images. Even mine. They can help shake us up a little. Maybe that unflattering photo of you brings about a vow to lose a few pounds. Or maybe you finally admit that everyone was right when they told you those pants you love make your ass look like it’s sagging to your knees.

So, what do you do when confronted with yourself? Scream? Cry? Call Joan Rivers and ask for a referral? Well, maybe. But it seems to me there’s a lot to be said about learning to do something positive, although I'm not sure I have the hang of it just yet. Accept that there’s no stopping time from going by. Look at the things you can change to make things better and do them. Eat healthier, get more exercise. Work less and enjoy family and friends more. But mostly, relax a little and be happy that you've been around long enough to experience those changes as they take place.

And if that doesn’t work, we can get Joan on speed-dial.