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22 March, l968
As it turned out, Johnny would visit Jill’s room off and on during the following weeks. And that strange woman that left the Belmont’s room brought along another woman, and on occasion, he’d catch her on her way down the steps and invite her into his room, although she’d had preferred ‘Jill,’ so she said.
Tasma was not aware of most of this, but a little. Also, she had received at this time several letters from home by her parents, in particular her father, but she did not respond back. She was not certain what to say, she loved them, and Jill assured them she was fine, but it was too stressful for her to talk or write them. She did have a profound desire to please her father, and wishful thinking to please her mother, but it seemed she needed to learn how to please herself first, and to Jill, she did not blame them for anything, not anymore anyway. And had she started a communicational dialogue, they may have persuaded her to return, the one thing she did not want at this time.
—Jill was in the kitchen—the ironing board was pulled out from an inner-cabinet built into the wall, a wall-unite if you will, it was kept snugly in, in which there was a door attached to it; Jill was ironing Tommy and Johnny’s cloths, another lover circle had stared. Both were arranged in separate piles. Mrs. Belmont was sitting at the table talking seriously to her; it was most unusual thought Tasma, for seldom did she see Mrs. Belmont other than at the bar talking to Jill. As Tasma neared them to join them, the subject—whatever it was—changed, and what appeared on Mrs. Belmont’s face was an un-cheerful smile, not unusual, but quite sudden, and it was apparent. Consequently, feeling a little awkward she left the kitchen to work on her diary-novel (some poems), in the living room in her usual spot; in effect, she could overhear bits and pieces now of their conversation. It didn’t occur to her to get up and leave, rather the opposite; she actually pretended to be busy writing and was simply drawing a picture undiscernibly.
“It’s been going on for a while mom, I didn’t think it was, I mean it would end up like this.”
“Get rid of him, or all of them.”
“No, no, I don’t think Johnny will go so easy. He likes me, and thinks he can have me, and he has me of course.”
“What about Tommy?”
“I like him, I like him a lot, but that’s the problem, I don’t love him, I just like him.”
“He’s what you need though. He’s more anchored.”
[With scorn] “What the hell does anchored mean!” said Jill.
“Ok, ok, I could have used a better term, Tommy likes to work and go to school, he’ll be somebody someday.”
“Tommy doesn’t pay you a dime; Johnny does and Johnny works hard.”
“Yes, he works hard all right, hard at drinking, screwing you and god knows who else—smoking that weed.”
“So Tommy was screwing me and working.”
“You’re going to lose him to that cousin of yours if you don’t hang on to him.”
“Tasma,” she looked at Tasma reading, “you got to be kidding, she’s as naïve as a sparrow.”
“So you say: does a pineapple come from a pine tree?”
“No,” said Jill apprehensive, “now what does that mean?”
“She’s not the little girl she was three, four months ago, or is it five or more? She has a good shape, and pretty face, and if Tommy can’t see it, I can. And so can a lot of men at the bar. Anyhow, Tasma is not the issue, Johnny and Tommy are.”
(A long pause came, then with a cracking voice, and an almost whisper, she leaned over to her mother, and Tasma leaned over the arm of her chair): “I think I’m pregnant…”
“Ay caramba,” she said in a sigh that slurred all the way to Tasma’s ears, “…now what?”
“It’s Johnny’s, not Tommy’s, Tommy uses a rubber, and Johnny thinks it is not manly to do so.” It was momentarily hard for Jill to look her mother in the face; she was at this time, pacing the floor in a small circle as her mother followed her with her eyes.
“Listen Jill, Johnny’s drinking with all the gang members at the bar, and he’s gambling, it’s just a matter of time before he gets in trouble with them.” (Some of the gang members had motorcycles, others cars, it was somewhat an unofficial bunch of criminals, in that they were but twenty of them that hung out at a number of bars).
23 Shan’t be a Minute
Tasma found herself walking upstairs to her room, it was quieter in the kitchen, and figured, she had heard enough, a voice said, “Where are you going?” it was Jill, polite but to the point.
“Shan’t be a moment,” was her answer. She wanted to tuck away her diary-novel, she had written some exposing things in it. And so she tucked away, under her pillow, as if it was safe, and her place was off limits to others, which in presumption it seemed to be. For the most part, she did not want to leave it laying about for someone to pick up accidentally.
Life had seemed uncomplicated she thought, and now with Jill’s mother it seemed somewhat speculative, if not downright disjointed. It had now crossed her mind Tommy would find out the secret, the secret being Johnny’s behavior and her being pregnant, or so she said she was, and ‘I know about it,’ she felt as if she was a betrayer, be it to Jill or Tommy, or even Johnny. Down the stairway, into the living room she went. She looked outside through the bay-window and there was Mrs. Alice Whitehead getting into the car, she looked at Tasma, Tasma waved at her, she was a nice old lady, and it always seemed to her she had concern on her face for her.
As she turned around looking towards the kitchen she noticed Mrs. Belmont sorting out bills: ‘I suppose she’s done talking to Jill now,’ was her thinking.
“I talked to your mother a few days ago Tasma, she’s doing well and I told her likewise, you were doing well.” Tasma simply made a polite gesture, no verbal adjectives.
“I want to do something today, a surprise, come with me,” asked Tasma, for some odd reason something had popped into her head.
“What, may I ask, is on that devious mind of yours?” laughed Jill.
—Tasma and Jill were gone for several hours, and arrived back home at about 6:00 PM. Johnny and Tommy were sitting in the living room watching TV. As they both walked into the house, both the boys were somewhat taken back a bit at Tasma’s appearance—if not down right, star-struck. Her long reddish hair was cut to where it reached only the nape of her neck. And she was wearing more makeup than she had before, the result: she looked a little fresher and less school-girlish, than before. Thought Tommy, ‘…before she seemed more delicate and fragile..,’ as he glanced at the poise she displayed as she smiled and stood in the middle of the room awaiting the verdict of the two young throbbing hearts, the heart breakers themselves. Johnny noticed her slender bones, and her nicely shaped neck was more defined (front and back). Tommy for some reason noticed her neatly-set breasts, small as they were—just above her small waist they were a hand full no more. Yet her slyness somewhat removed, still left her with a harmless effect. Her nervousness was repressed for the most part.
Along with all that, with all the money she had saved up, she also purchased some bath salts, talcum powder and a small mirror, which she duplicated for Jill as a gift for allowing her to stay. She had spent her $100-dollars she had saved.
For some odd reason, Tasma had glanced back into the kitchen, expecting to see Mrs. Belmont, but of course was not surprised when she was not there, she usually would go to the bar around this time, either she had missed her, or she was in her room preparing to go. The boys looked at one another in jest, and laughed.
Said Johnny with his normal side joking way, “So now you’ve grown up, welcome to the real world kid, looks like you’re willing to join us.”
Tasma knew Johnny’s ways and knew that was better left alone.
“It makes you feel good,” commented Jill; meaning spending money on oneself for preservation purposes, or simply for a change in one’s life. But there was concern in Jill’s unseen eyes, in her cerebellum. She was no psychologist, like Skinner or Pavlov with his salivating dogs (who worked on association), but the boys were kind of salivating, restlessly slobbering might be a better way of putting it, if not downright uneasy, with this new Tasma look.
Everyone had gone to bed now, it was Jill’s turn to sit downstairs in the sofa-chair for once, wondering, thinking, not sure of her next move. ‘I just don’t get it,’ she asked herself, ‘why am I so attracted to Johnny, and going with Tommy? Tasma wouldn’t have the answer even if I asked her, nor mom, facts are facts, feelings are feelings, I don’t sense they are neither right or wrong, they just are. Johnny makes love as if he was a mad man and seems almost barbaric, and I think of him when I make love to Tommy—it’s just unthinkable. I wonder how Tommy’s new book will turn out. Can you love two people at once, at one time? A good question; I think I do, or maybe it is lust, how do I know, I’m just…(pause) will be nineteen in a month. Mom said: love is a choice. I say love is a feeling. I wonder what Tasma would say. I know Tommy feels love through his penis, like Johnny, all men do, kind of, sort of—most of the time; but Tommy is more willing to be dedicated, I think. I have learned men are attracted by looking, but I like touch.’
On her way to her bedroom, she stopped at Tasma’s room, knocked lightly, “Can I come in just for a moment?” she asked.
“Why sure you can,” answered Tasma with a thoughtful voice.
“I had a great day with you today, and thanks again for the things you bought me (this was a good lead-in she thought to bait her for a question to be soon asked), but I have a question, somehow I think you’re going to oversimplify the answer but I’ll ask it anyhow. How do you know if you’re in love with a person?”
Surprisingly, Tasma answered Jill with foreknowledge, “You mean you are having a hard time trying to figure who you want, Tommy or Johnny?”
(A tight look went over Jill’s face.) “Yes, yes, that is where I’m coming from; I didn’t know it was so obvious.”
“It’s becoming obvious Jill, it was the first day Johnny came through the door, and it has progressively taken a greater shape to it. But in regards to your answer, I’ve never been in love so I might be the wrong person to ask, but I do know this, as simple as it may be: if I wanted to go out with Johnny, I couldn’t be in love with Tommy—that much. I mean, I’d think whoever you were in love with—you’d not want to go out with anyone else; you’d kind of want to stop shopping around for another person, or so I believe. If I was to get married, I’d not want to go out with anyone else: and if I did, I’d know that I was not ready for marriage, to him or anyone, if that makes any sense.”
But to Jill it made all the sense in the world. She was sleeping with Tommy at night, and wanted to be with Johnny.
“What do you think I should do?” asked Jill.
“I think you already know; I don’t think I need to say anymore. My heart is with you, no matter what the outcome is.” Then Tasma hugged her tightly.
24 Reset
As the next two weeks passed a kind of silence took over the house, people talked less to one another, I suppose you could say, Jill was the life of the house, and now she was deep in thought. Everyone tried to keep busy and pretend things were normal, but they of course knew they were not. The Belmont’s kept their normal schedule, and the pretense lingered.
Tasma had finished up with Tommy’s book on San Francisco, and had explained to him how she liked the ending of ‘Bustling,’ by his fake name Colleen Grant; she commented to Tommy: “The younger woman fell in love with the older man, but she had psychological issues, and she was too fragile for him to care for her emotional illness, and he was too sick biologically for her to care for him. It was a sad ending I thought, but had they married: love would not have been enough, as they wished, they’d both had ruined the life of the other. Yet they remained friends as they parted, matter of fact they remained friends until he died at the age of eighty-years old, and her, at eighty-two.” She then read a poem she was working on for him: “I haven’t put it in my book or diary yet, but here it is I’ll read it to you from the paper (Tommy sat inquisitively on the edge of her bed):
The Maiden from Seattle
When she walked into the light The door to life, grew black as
Night, And her earth began to swell
(This youthful beauty of Seattle);
At first glance— Fell this youth from high Aching to touch the morning sky.
Who dare take this maiden’s hand? To help her though this silent land! Ah! From hair, to heart, to breast:
Like faded flowers in the ground Fleshless alms, could not be found, And so she remains—bound!
Said Tommy in surprise, “I like it, I think a little or maybe a lot of you is in the poem; I think you’re going to be a Mrs. Plath, or Dickinson some day.”
—The following day Tommy had come into Tasma’s room unexpectantly, “Are you still writing your story?” he asked.
She looked at Tommy, “Just some poems, and dairy notes, really haven’t gotten into the plot or theme of anything in particular yet; not sure how to get it going.”
“Let me see, maybe I can help you” he said. Yet Tasma was still bewildered of his rudeness to just kind of enter at will; she liked him and didn’t want to scare him away, on the other hand, she was not going to join any love-circle.
She leaped quickly to her pillow, then it dawned on her, she had much information in it about Johnny, Jill, Tommy and, none other but the: The Lady in Black, as she referred to her in the diary. But had she not jumped, she thought afterwards, had she not jumped she’d had not given away her hiding place, although it was no vault for sure—I mean, a mouse could have found it had it looked for it.
“I, I have too many personal things in it, private things, I’d rather you not see,” said Tasma as she currently held the book in the middle of her chest; as she got off the bed with her one knee, fully turning about now, she tripped on her shoe and the book fell, Tommy quickly grabbed it and opened it. Tasma saw him reading it, and needed to do something quick, she grabbed it out of his hands and jumped on the bed, her dress flying above her waist showing her underwear and all.
Somehow Tommy found the child in him, and jumped on her bed trying to grab the diary from her as they rolled around in the bed; now Tommy hovering over her, his legs between hers.
“What are you two up to?” questioned a voice in the background, it was Jill: she had heard the ruckus.
“My fault, I was trying to get her diary from her, I started to read something quite interesting,” he looked at Jill halfheartedly. Had he gone back any farther, thought Tasma: The Lady in Black was there.
Jill looked at Tasma in an indefatigably way, “I see I wasn’t invited to the party—”and slipped off to her bedroom where she just looked out the window aimlessly. In a way it didn’t bother her about what she’d seen, but on the other hand, she was jealous. When Tommy left the bedroom to join Jill he didn’t know whose child it was; he had only read up to ‘I overheard her say to her mother she was pregnant today by….” He could not ask Tasma to betray Jill, it would be too much to ask, if anything, Jill might be betraying him, it was indicative of her.
—In the following days, Tasma noticed Tommy and Jill fought quite a lot; and Tommy was not a person to be irritated easily, it must be that she was leading Tommy to believe it could be his child, Tasma thought. Then one evening she noticed Tommy sleeping on the coach, and Johnny still remaining in his bedroom.
During this interval, Johnny entertained himself in his bedroom, hoping Tommy and Jill would sort things out—thus he remained in kind of a queue, waiting for Jill’s signal to return, somehow he had come to that conclusion she would. He found himself pacing the floor at night, saying, ‘I wish, whatsitsname, would…’ and never ended the sentence.
—I must make this awkward at this point, his mind broke off the subject of Jill and Tommy after the first week, his insides became external. He looked at himself, pretending he was not feeling this serge; he had not guessed at this until it engulfed him, there was stern on his face—and, toil in his hand. A cold shower might work he thought, but it was too far away. He felt he was on a fast run; he hardened his body like a weightlifter, a boxer ready to take a punch.
This lasted two weeks, finally an agreement came about, Jill would sleep with Johnny, and Tommy would sleep in Johnny’s room, and in due time Tommy would have to leave, approximately in a few months, considering once she started to show it would only provoke issues within the household, or so she felt. The real problem was that Johnny did not have the heart to tell Jill he liked the way things were, and he really liked Lorie to a higher degree. He wanted his sex, but could find it elsewhere if need be, now he’d have to resort to living in her bedroom, and his alone time would be altered. In addition, Lorie was somewhat out of the picture for he had not seen her in weeks as he waited for this all to settle, but he’d see her again is what he was planning. Again, everything seemed in the air now. But to resist the plan would be too premature at the moment he deliberated out.
In spite of the tension, things appeared to move about on a regular base for a few more weeks. However, Johnny was starting to hang out with the gang more often now, with their motorcycles, and customized old cars. He was doing a lot more drinking and gambling with the gang members. They had even stopped on a few occasions at Jill’s house looking for Johnny, taking pains to find him, going out of their way it would seem. It came to her attention; Johnny owed them money, how much it wasn’t said (but it was close to $6,000-dollars). They’d not go to his work; it was one thing the groups forbid: that being, to endanger a man’s livelihood was not being a man at all. They could do almost anything else, even kill you, but not jeopardize your job: that was considered a low blow.
Out of nervousness, Tasma started to keep her distance from the group at the bar, if she could, she would have vanished into thin air.
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Mid life Crisis is not a disease or an event that one can avoid. It afflicts everyone who lives through their middle years. There is no warning as to when it will hit you, but when it does, it likely will come at the worst possible time, but then again, when is a good time for a meltdown?
Most likely your time will differ from that of your friends and others close to you like your Husband or Wife, since our Middle years can begin anytime from our mid thirties through one’s fifties and everyone is different.
Don’t even think you can avoid mid life Crisis, because you can’t! No amount of money or influence can get you out of this one. How you endure the transformation and to what degree you suffer or not, will vary as widely as those who experience it. You know the cliché, forewarned is forearmed, so knowing what will happen and how to survive the experience in tact, can go a long way. Right!
I may have been exaggerating slightly about how ominous Middle aged Crisis can be, because I wanted to grab your attention. However, we have all heard the jokes about middle aged crisis and know that within all jokes, there does contain a grain of truth. The truth here is that some of you will experience a major shift in your lives, while for others the change may be more gentle. Do not doubt that change is on its way. It is inevitable! You may not have say on if or when it will happen, but you do have a say in how you will deal with it. Each and every one of us is equipped with a silver bullet in our personal arsenal to deploy as we see fit. This is something that you may already be using or something that you have yet to take out. It matters not because you never run out of it. It is the most effective weapon we have and that is Attitude!
As a Life Coach, we use our attitude and perspective to help our clients deal with many issues in their lives until their own attitude can take over. In fact, we often say that if we only have one tool to use, Perspective would be it. How you view things, and the attitude you take toward life’s ups and downs, (your perspective), has a dramatic effect on how you cope. Are you a glass is half full or half empty person? Do you laugh in the face of danger or do you run and hide in terror? Are you someone who is afraid of change or do you embrace it like me? Do you see problems or opportunities for improvement? Positive and negative personalities are obviously opposites of each other, with the extremes differing in folks all up and down the spectrum of the pole. I can certainly find folks who exemplify the ends of the pole, those with very strong outlooks, but for those who are fence sitters, you now have an opportunity to change your attitude. Only you know how you experience the world around you, but I know that a positive or negative attitude will affect how you experience what I have coined, The Emergence of our True Self. How would you like to go through life? Seeing opportunities or finding problems everywhere? The choice is yours.
Look at this time as an amazing opportunity for you to take a peek behind the veil, the cloak of mystery that is you. Avidly seek out the answers to questions that have plagued mankind since the beginning of time. I know that as a child I lay in bed and many times looked up at the sky and wondered, “Why am I here”? “What is my purpose?” “How can I be more than I am?” These are the questions that will now be answered for you. This is your time to finally solve the mystery. View this time as a positive experience. This is your time and it has been given to you so that you can emerge as your True Self. Feel all of it; embrace the experience, even the tough stuff. Remember the butterfly and its struggle to emerge from it’s cocoon. You may struggle through this time but you will emerge a more content person for it. I am positive about this.
Middle Aged Crisis, struck this week and it happened to a man we will call Dan. Let’s see how it begins so we know what to look for. Dan is a slightly paunchy, balding middle-aged man in his late 40’s, whose one attempt of rebellious attitude towards his wife, was to go against her thrifty nature and adorn the front end of his mini van with a ‘bra”!
One day, Dan left his ‘bra’ behind and came home wearing a shiny new candy apple red corvette instead. It looks like the van was traded in for this gorgeous sexy rolling piece of penis envy. After the ‘big wow’ fell out of your dropped jaw, was your next thought the same as mine “now there’s a guy whose wife is going to kill him”? Where are the kids going to sit? Is Dan a classic case of a man having a mid life crisis?!”
Will his ‘search” for himself end here or will Dan take it a step further? It seems that several of the guys in Dan’s office have traded their wives of 3o years for 30 yr.old wives. We don’t know if Dan knows any 30 yr; old women so we will have to wait and see about that. Dan seems to be the poster boy for Middle Aged Men in crisis but what about woman? Are they immune to mid life angst and do men and woman manifest their symptoms in the same way? Joan Rivers and her G-force facelift might be the perfect example of a woman who is still searching for more in her life but can’t get past her mirror. We often joke about woman and their hot flashes, but do they wake up all sweaty and then head out in the morning to buy sexy cars or is there another measure of being unsatisfied they go for? I have a few lady friends who were the very last women in the world I EVER expected to radically deviate from their MOM role. It seemed at 40 something, they woke up one day and traded their beautifully decorated home, mommy and wifely duties for a basement apartment and freedom. Did it mean they loved their children less? Nope, it just meant that they were compelled to find out who they were after being a mom and wife. Yes, a few became what is commonly referred to today as Cougars, woman who prey on younger men, but for the most part, they seemed to be genuinely seeking themselves. Either this was something that was lost, or something they never had in the first place.
So is Mid life Crisis a valid condition or an excuse to be selfish and make up for poor choices along the way? Is it a human condition that we will all experience in varying degrees as we pass through their middle ages, or is it reserved for those who share certain personality traits? Is it possible that it is related to female menopause or male Andropause? Do hormones have anything to do with the ‘stress and distress of those in the eye of this storm? Are these people as out of control as they sometimes seem to be?
I am not a doctor and do not know the answer to these questions but I do know as a Life Coach and a woman in her middle years, that there seems to be a great many people in this age category who are seeking and searching for something that will fill a part of them that is missing. They have a great desire for something more in their life, but what that MORE is they don’t know. It is a time of personal reflection and for some breaking out of a mold that has held them for many years. Perhaps you know someone who has quit their executive position or walked out on their 30 year marriage. It doesn’t always make sense, this behaviour, but there is common theme. CHANGE!
It seems that many are seeking their destiny, and the meaning of life. They want to know what their purpose is and where they fit into the Grand Scheme. They want to know what this thing called LIFE is all about, and they are seeking their soul, their soul mates and questioning long held beliefs. Spirituality is a common theme, and many search for their connection to something larger than the known world and for answers they go to the Unknown world
A metamorphosis is taking place and I see it as our third great struggle of life. The first is being born, the second is adolescence and now this time I will coin, The Emergence of Self. The emergence because it is our true self we are seeking. Not the daughter, son, mother, father, doctor, cook or any other label we have put on ourselves, but OUR true SELF , our true soul, the nature of who we really are. It seems this is a time where anything can happen and does.
Sometimes those who are most surprised by what happens next are the seekers themselves.
As adolescents we go through the change together, it is expected, so resources are in place to help us deal with it. Our families and teachers are there for us, supporting the change. Now in our mid 40’s- 50’s, it seems we face this change alone. No longer are our buddies, families or teachers there to support us. In fact, it may be that those closest to you don’t understand why you are contemplating the things you are. They may argue that you are making a big mistake and you don’t know what you are doing. Even if this is true, and in many cases it is, there doesn’t seem to be anything to do about it except ride it out.
Have you ever wondered at the timing of all this? Why is it so important to KNOW right now? Why upset the apple cart at this stage of your life?
Perhaps it is so that our time here is not wasted in the larger sense. Many of us as children had a dream or a goal. I think that this first memory may be the truth of who we really are and why we are here.
How many of us have stayed true to who we were? I know that there have been many times in my life that duty as a daughter, a mother, and even a wife have taken precedence over who I wanted to be. So maybe this frustration, this time of wanting is really the only way to help us break the chains of ‘good behaviour’ and allows us the time to search for our lost selves or if you believe in the metaphysical then perhaps we are waking up to what brought us here in the first place, our contract or mission. Have you felt that there is a master plan but you haven’t been let in on the details?
The there is a great secret, albeit unknown to you, and almost like a cosmic joke, it is at your expense. Why does this transformation take place? Is there a way of escaping it? I think not. It seems to me a natural progression to a higher state of being if we are lucky. It seems we all go through the process, albeit at slightly different ages and degrees of angst. I believe that this is one “Crisis” that is supposed to happen and rather than describe it as a crisis we could rename it as a transformation. We have all have known a “Dan”, a 50 something guy who finally buys his corvette, or his Harley, leaves his wife or leaves his job- any or all of these are fairly common and classic crisis behaviour. As I said earlier, Women are not immune either. We can all envision the Cougar, a woman in her mid to late 40’s who used to be Suzy Homemaker and is now on the prowl for a 2o something guy to make up for her boring life.
On the outside, this behaviour seems selfish and I suppose in some ways it is. But remember, this Emergence is about self and change and change never comes easily. There is always a struggle and in this instance, doing what is opposite in nature of what one has always been done may be one of the catalysts to the next step. These folks are in the midst of a chemical and physical transformation. Alchemy is taking place. When all is said and done, they will be different.
They are reaching out for their world to make sense and hopefully when all is said and done, they will have found peace. Peace within themselves and peace with their outside world. We know that these folks want more, but and the sexy car, younger mate is not the whole answer because change on the outside does not equate with change on the inside. I feel that this transformation may actually be harder on us than adolescence. When we are young, we have out parents to support us. We walk en mass with our friends to school and we are all going through stuff together. But mid life, we do that one by ourselves and many times, we wreak havoc on the lives of those we love the most. This change, this metamorphosis, cannot likely be stopped, anymore that you can stop breathing, but for some, it comes with great cost. Our bodies change- we don’t child bear anymore. We have wrinkles and grey hairs sprouting from places they aren’t supposed too. Our skin on our hands begin to thin and become translucent, showing the blue of our veins. We fear we are losing our sexuality, our vitality and our ability to be ‘seen’ as one of the players. We fear this invisibility and we fight to be more than we are, because we want to stay in the game. We also know that we are more than we are showing. We wake to an unknown dream or assignment and strive to fulfill our life’s mission, but the guide book is missing. The map is gone and our hands flail in the wind seeking something solid to grip onto. It’s a turbulent time until one day, you wake up and your life begins to make sense again. You start to realize what is important. Who you are and what you are passionate about. You know what you love and whom you love and you have a sense of the greater picture. You know why you are here. You understand your ties to the past and what you bring to the future. The Emergence of Self will happen whether you plan for it or not. At some point in your life mid life, an amazing discovery of self will take place, and I hope that you complete your transformation all the way until you feel at peace within your heart and the world around you. For those of you who are wondering what signs to look for or if you are currently experiencing your transformation, below you can find a list of common features:
Typical features of mid-life include:
Experiencing healthy dissatisfaction……..yearning for more…..is this it??
What worked before no longer rocks your world.
The changing body becomes your guide.
You get used to uncertainty
You want to give back
You become much more than you thought you were.
Your values change significantly
You are getting a hefty whiff of you own mortality.
The emergence of wisdom
Mid-life challenges that Coaching can assist with:
• Finding your Passion
• Removing FEAR from the Change Process
• Learning how to acknowledge and accept others
• Learning to Communicate at heart level
• Reconnect with your SELF
• Leaving Guilt Behind
• Trusting your instincts
• Creating a vision
