Meditations on 50, part 5

Decade 5: 41 to 50

This post is part of a multipart series. I recommend first reading Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

When I turned 40, it felt like life was on autopilot. The kids were 5 and 3. I was about to make tenure. Racing was still fun, and I could occasionally win one. Missoula felt like home and UM felt like a place where I could thrive.

Though the trouble brewing was obvious, I couldn't see it. Or I didn't allow myself to see it. But in my 48th year, something occurred that I didn't think was possible. And in response, I did something I didn't think I was capable of.

The moment summoned a higher version of myself, yet disabused me of any notion of perfection. I felt both motivation and liberation, and I hurled myself at a frenetic pursuit of grasping sand. Ultimately, that pursuit failed. But the experience, though excruciating, brought with it incredible richness. I'll highlight some of the lessons that I'm now beginning to understand.

1. Integrity. Integrity is doing the right thing when no one is looking. We talk a lot in our institutions about values. What's our mission? What's our vision, our value proposition? What are our brand pillars? Whatever buzzwords we attach to them, values are supposed to be the concepts we hold most dear. Our red lines. They're made for challenging situations and hard decisions. Edge cases. When we make contact with an edge case, we can remind ourselves that this is the reason we go to the trouble of having values. In practice, however, values are a version of Schrödinger's Cat. Much like you don't know if the cat is alive or dead until you look in the box, you don't know your values until a test arises. I've betrayed what I thought were my values several times. I failed to show up in some critical moments. I lost my cool and said mean things. I caused harm. I try my best to be accountable for these failures and use the experiences to build that capacity for repair I mentioned before. But this particular test was the most significant and consequential one I've faced. I'm grateful that I somehow passed. I chose to build rather than destroy, and I'm at peace with the outcome.

2. Gratitude. When shit gets real, remind yourself that you are having an experience. Even if it's hard, you are feeling, and that's better than the alternative. I felt some big feels in the last two years of my 5th decade. Some good, some bad, all rich. Furthermore, I'm especially grateful for my friends. They showed up and held me in ways I didn't know were available. Relationships are precious. Treat them with care and let the people you love know how you feel. I'm also grateful to now be living a life I didn't know existed. It sometimes feels like I crossed into another dimension of the multiverse. That crossing part sure did hurt, and I can't say I would have chosen it, but now that I'm here, it's pretty amazing. Be thankful that the sun rises, that you wake up, that you feel, and that you can repair and recover.

3. Impermanence. I'm not quite sure how I allowed myself to assume permanence. It's intellectually lazy and not true. All relationships end, and no one gets out alive. I'd known this, I suppose, but willfully ignored it. Now I know it, yet it remains difficult to accept. Why is that? Life is better if you embrace impermanence. A world of permanence is boring, stripped of wonder and chance. Permanence is an illusion. It's comfort food that metabolizes into the flab of complacency. I still grasp for it, most often when stressed. However, I am getting better at noticing. I recognize when I struggle, remind myself of its folly, and try to work with what's right in front of me. Rinse, repeat.

The other night, my daughter and I watched game 5 of the Western Conference Semifinals. OKC versus Denver. With about three minutes remaining in the first half, Denver led by 10. But they got sloppy and allowed OKC to close it to three at the break. Charles Barkley suggested this lapse would likely be the difference in the game. These games go late, and I go to bed early. Sure enough, when I woke up and checked the score, OKC had won. If 50 is halfway, I am fortunate to have closed out the first half in good style.

Seek integrity; express gratitude; embrace impermanence. I'm learning how these three actions compound. Change happens slowly, then all of a sudden. The crisis I experienced developed slowly, but forced instantaneous change. I no longer care about perfection. I no longer care about optimization. I move slower and experience more.

I try to embrace the guidance of Stoic philosopher Tracy Jordan and "live every week like it's Shark Week."