Beating Ana by Shannon Cutts

Practical mid-life crisis

So far, this has been an odd year.

Not bad-odd, or even good-odd.

Just odd.

I am turning 40 this year, and will admit that I feel a certain sense of accomplishment - even pride - in that fact. Or at least I would, if I wasn't so aware of the colossal oddness of the concept of me-turning-40.

I know I am not the first person who has turned 40 and I won't be the last. I also know that up until recently I thought I was handling the whole "turning 40" thing pretty well....that is, until I shared my opinion with one of my friends, who just shook her head at me with a rueful grin (she being a truly close friend who occupies that position in my life for just such times as these).

All of which means that I now suspect I am having, for lack of a better description, a 'practical mid-life crisis'.

The trouble with being human

It is hard to be human.

It is challenging for everyone.

This past weekend I gave a presentation at a youth workers conference. The room was filled with working adults – folks ages mid-twenties and up. These leaders had paid their own money and given up their entire weekend to sit in a room, classroom-style, and learn more effective strategies to support, guide, and mentor the teens in their charge.

Yet it quickly became apparent that the material we discussed was as applicable to our own lives today as it is for the teens in our lives.

A lesson in (im)balance

As of two years ago, the first week in April has become quite possibly my least favorite week of each year.

More than tax season, "well woman" exams, or my annual fear-factor challenge (aka dentist visit), the emotional and mental parts of me dislike the week of April 1st with an intensity that is unmatched elsewhere in my life...or calendar.

Two years ago during this week, I made a difficult - very difficult - decision that resulted in a huge shift in my circumstances. It was the right decision, and for the other 11 months and 3 weeks out of each year, I am mindful of that and grateful I had the strength to make the right choice for all concerned. But during this one week it is now tradition for me to waver, to doubt, to grieve.

Two years ago during this week, I lost a dear friend. This being the first time I had lost a loved one who was not only a relative but also a close personal friend, I grieved deeply. The fact that the loss occurred in the same week I was making and acting on the difficult decision compounded the impact it had on me. During the other 11 months and 3 weeks out of the year, I am grateful that my friend is in a better place, safe, free from pain, and clearly having a good time (every so often I can still feel him tap me on the shoulder and say, "hey - no worries, okay? life is short - so lighten up and LIVE.")

But in these six days at the start of each April, once again it is time not to sing, not to dance, but to mourn...even if just a little or sometimes a lot....for my loss of a friend. Death is always so much harder for those who are left behind.