This year I turn fifty in October. Sixteenth October to be precise. Needless to say getting to half a century is a big milestone in anyone's life. Most approach it with a mix of trepidation and doom. Trepidation of the things to come or lack of and doom of declining physical and mental faculties. The sage of the world approach fifty as a powerhouse of wisdom and a license to wag their fingers and shake their heads at numerically lesser aged mortals pointing out the folly of their ways. And then they are those who go into panic mode; the famously atoned ‘midlife crisis’. They throw their family life and everything they have slowly and steadily built to the wind and abandon themselves to revisiting the follies of youth.
Being a classic sun sign Libra, I weighed the pros and cons of letting myself feel one way or another as I foray gradually towards my fiftieth birthday. After all I have the time-luxury of ten months and fifteen days to make that decision and I want to get it right. So I thought hard, sometimes for days on end and truly tried to visualize my life beyond fifty. Should I approach my fiftieth with trepidation and doom of diminishing faculties? Should I expend my energies and focus more on my physically and mental health? I pictured myself taking up yoga, doing meditation, eating greens and becoming a total zen person with a constantly lingering smile. Hmm. Very tempting. And to be honest a very sensible approach to fifty and beyond but kind of cliche and boring. Where was the fun? Where was the spark? And I also knew I wouldn't be able to stick with it for long, because I never do. I am not a sticker to sensible things and despite my best intentions, I come undone sooner or later. So that option flew out the window.
Next I contemplated if I should wear the know-it-all hat and go around spilling my wisdom beans hoping someone will sow one and reap the benefits and miraculously start thinking of me as their guru. Their go-to wise woman? I pictured myself as a kind of a un-licensed and un-solicited therapist, and I quite liked the idea! Because I am a very good listener, and not only that I actually really listen when people talk. And by that I mean I can detect the undercurrents of their conversations, things they are trying to justify, things they are trying to forget, things they feel annoyed about. I have always been able to cut through the talk and see what a person is all about at that moment in time. Call it a gift, but I have what it takes to be a wise-woman. But did I want to be one? Did I want to spend the rest of my life telling people what to do? Weren't my children sick of me doing that already with them? Suddenly being a sage wasn't so sexy - and I abandoned the idea.
The other option available to me is to have a mid-life crisis. And I thought about what direction should my midlife crisis take me. Partying, convertibles, dressing young and acting wild? To be honest I was out of my depth here. My brain refused to go along with me on this one and truly I wouldn't know where to start. I was a never a wild child. I didn't even dress young when I was young or party hard and I find convertibles too damn uncomfortable to ride in, with every hump and bump magnified ten fold. So definitely I wouldn't know how to have a midlife crisis even if I wanted one!
That leaves me nowhere. But I am not overly worried. It will come to me. We are still into the month of May and I still have five more months to figure out what becomes of me after 50!
Saman Khanzada Mirza
