As I mentioned in what I imagine is the far more popular post, I am now 35. Which I consider middle aged for dramatic effect, but a straight Google says isn’t, but this PubMed scientific article says is indeed the Early Middle Aged category, so I suppose I was right.

It’s a perfect time to visit the thought of midlife (crisis) with the release of “The Tortured Poets Department”, a retrospective on life and love from Taylor Swift. Purportedly it’s obtaining reviews from the younger set that it’s an immature album while my group coos saying, “Ah yes, this is your 30s”.

When you are young there is the persistent need to move forward. To work on yourself, to work on things, to hit the milestones. Achievement! Achievement! In the traditional sense, let alone the sense of my own desires, I’ve done so. The house, the husband, the cars, the kids. Congratulations you’ve made it! Now what? The only milestone I know next is retirement and that’s what? 20-30 years away. What am I supposed to do now? What am I supposed to long for?

Yes, yes, I am blessed. I know, I know. I promise I wake every day and reflect with gratitude on the precious little life I’ve been granted. I reflect on the nature of desire and how desire is the root of suffering. To want something other than what-is is the root of unhappiness and learning to sit and appreciate things as they are will unlock nirvana. (Buddhism sometimes seems a very privileged philosophy in this regard, for it is certainly fair to want things to be other than what they are in the midst of a genocide. Then again the Dalai Lama too has suffered and continues to claim the concept as valid).

Anyway, back to the point.

Midlife crises seem so torrid in modern media. Dad goes crazy and buys a sports car! Has an affair! Dates the nanny! Which is stupid and indulgent and seems so utterly silly except -I must confess- I wonder how it isn’t even more common. To have gone through much growth and development and then screech to a stop knowing its all cellular degradation from here? How are we supposed to manage this?

How come we never saw Mom have a crisis? I think we all know. Maybe it’s something my generation will take on. We’ll get our husbands to take their share in raising children thereby allowing us to retain an identity that can crumble when faced with the horror of eternal need to reaffirm your existence. I think there are a few stories out there already -and not the ones where she goes on the journey because the husband leaves first. But I want more.

Personally, having kids is actually a gift in this regard. I am able to bear witness to moments of true joy. A baby beaming when they see you enter the room or a toddler figuring out how to do a puzzle themselves or the giggles that come from either when you pin them to the ground and tickle them. They help me focus and keep me grounded even if they complicate the plotting of my moves.

Which is all to say…..what in the world am I supposed to do now? Sit in this life as it is for 20 years? Egads. How do you people do it. I’m the adult in charge? I’m still just a stupid teenager inside. It bends the mind.

I can understand if the young ones think Taylor is being immature. But when you’re young, you often try to build yourself into a more mature being. You craft and scheme to present the picture, to be regarded as wise beyond your years. And then you get older, waiting for the consolidation to take place where all of your life experiences yield the mature adult you expected to be and….it doesn’t. Maybe it does a little bit. But on the whole, you’re still you, inside your brain thinking all the same wild things you always did

I don’t mean to spoil it for you. Something to ponder on perhaps. As said in one of my favorite vampire movies, “Forever is a very long time.”

I’ll go back to listening to Taylor Swift now. Tell me about your favorite songs from the new album.