I laugh at the term mid-life crisis. It brings me humor because at this stage in the game, there really isn’t a sense of urgency. Sure, I am caring for an aging parent who routinely calls and rants like a toddler when she doesn’t like something I have done. Yes, I am in the process of navigating life with an adult child with Down syndrome who desperately wants to move out, but who still bucks the rules that will give him that privilege. Of course, I am a freelance writer swimming upstream and striving to stay with the current. But none of these are a crisis. They are situations that allow me to be creative in the solution or roll my eyes. Many times it involves both.
My current situation involves my book-in-progress. I am not kidding when I say that I have written twenty-three chapters, but now have gone back to rehash some of the details because my brain keeps introducing plot twists, better character backgrounds, and an insane amount of ideas that can easily drive me to the brink of insanity. I am not a fan of living inside of my head. It isn’t always a reliable source. But, in this case, I am grateful for the creative production. I wonder, how will this book end? What will happen to my characters? I have no flipping idea, friends. When I get overwhelmed, I binge read. It clears my mind and I like to tell myself that I simply doing research.
I am in my mid-life, but there is no crisis. No urgency. Just life on life’s terms. As long as I am willing to simply show up, embrace my humanness, and rally when those pesky blips block my progress, all will be well. That is my recipe for living the best version of me. Just like my characters, I am always evolving. Hopefully, not as crazy as some of them, but evolving nonetheless.