"The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for."
~ Dostoyevsky
It took almost 9 years of clinical practice to have a answer to the question, “Why did / do you want to be a therapist?” I can’t, in earnest, say something as noble or altruistic as “I just want to help other people” or “I want to give to people what I was / wasn’t offered.”
The closest thing to the truth that I’ve been able to find is:
I was (am?) mostly lost and confused and figured the best way forward was to listen to other people, so that’s mostly what I do for a living now.
When I was in graduate school a decade ago I had already deduced that I probably wouldn’t stay a practicing therapist for the rest of my life. The difference, throughout the evolution of maturity in my career, is that now the reason or circumstances as to why have changed.
Then, I imagined I would just go as hard as I could until the wheels fell of and then burn out and ride off into the sunset withered and defeated with my head slumped.
Now, the perspective I have is that — I still don’t know when, but — I will make an intentional choice to hang my hat (and proverbial guns) up and walk away with a smile. I will pivot with invigorated purpose and graceful poise.
None of my colleagues — in any discipline — would be surprised or disappointed if I called them today and said I was retiring to open a ranch and martial arts school in Montana.
Is 36 too soon to have a mid-life crisis? I guess I can expect to get another 30-40 years of Earth-life; so technically, begrudgingly, that makes me “middle-aged.”
I haven’t moved to Montana, yet, but I did start my own business. I guess I owe it to myself, if I’m only going to get one 40-year-do-over on this rock, I better get it right(er) the second time around.
I haven’t changed the banner on my Facebook page in over a decade (not that I’m active there anyway), and the comic website it’s taken from has since closed. The image simply states:
“Having all the answers means you’ve been asking boring questions.”
About 8 years ago, there was a beautifully inspiring video I found on YouTube about a radio station closing. The video’s description reads “People of all ages offer words of wisdom to their younger counterparts in this WireTap farewell video, from CBC Radio One.”
That inspired me to make a resolution for myself. Every year, on my birthday, I make a statement giving some sort of advice to my one-year-younger-self; typically regarding something I’ve learned over the past year.
When I started the document I was 28, so I had some backtracking to do and picked some archetypal milestones to refer back to:
Dear 8 year-old self…
… from your 28 year-old self.
Dear 12 year-old self…
… from your 28 year-old self.
Dear 16 year-old self…
… from your 28 year-old self.
Dear 19 year-old self…
… from your 28 year-old self.
Dear 27 year-old self…
… from your 28 year-old self.
Every year I re-read all of the previous statements and try to collect wisdom from my experiences. I try to drink it in, savor the suffering and joy alike. For what it’s worth the existentialists were never happy and the stoics were only good at poker.
“I dare do all that may become a man,
Who dares do more is none.”~ Shakespeare, Macbeth
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to SavageZen Jiu Jitsu to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.