Mid-life crisis

About eight months from now, I will be 40. I am half a year to (my) middle age:  it’s all downhill from here. The realization that it’s the age where my body starts to break down; my metabolism slows down; my body does not produce replacement cells it ought to keep the body working properly, makes me stop for a while and think about nothing, sort of, about my life. 


The decline could be slowed down by exercise and proper diet, but, still, it’s all downhill from here now on. Pains and aches do not go away that easily. Wrong food could wreck havoc on my day for instance eating too much beans gives me rheumatism and head aches. My body becomes my frail master.

Hindsight becomes the predominant thinking and foresight takes a backseat. Maybe it’s because there’s not that much to look forward to. In the middle and thinking, half of my life’s spent. Now, what I am going to do? Thinking about the past mistakes and wishing that my daughter would not make the same mistakes that I have been through; the thought is so stressing that mere thinking about these things tires me out.

 I think this is quite normal especially for people going through middle age.

Now, I want to take it slow. I ride my motorcycle slow.   I wake up early and jog. I wake before dawn to have a longer day.  I sleep early to have a longer night of rest. I try not to think that much. I listen to music more; look at trees and flowers with a feminine appreciation for things of such beauty. Appreciate the chirping of birds and look at the sky with awe and childlike wonder, as if that is still possible.

Of course I try not to think about death. But it’s a subject that becomes certain, or looms with certainty more than anything when I am about to break the psychological boundary of midlife, 40. In my youth, death hardly touches the surface of my thinking. I used to think that thirty is old. Forty five, the age my father died, is the limit. I am still young, and I dare not think about tomorrow. But now, I realized that thirty is young and dying at forty five is waste. As the thought of death looms, the looking back at the days of youth becomes painful.

Haaaaa…I need to have more fun. Now, I realized that a person should not spend his youth drinking and partying instead he should drink and party in his mid life.

Of course, I am too old for that now.