I wrote this post at the start of this year, having hit 40 and mistaking midlife crisis for twenty twenty vision. What a year 2020 turned out to be.
This is the decade where I lost all control of the plan I made at 17. This was the decade I found myself in a life so strange, I could barely keep up, let alone hold onto my identity.
This decade, I got engaged, got hit and got dumped. This decade I wrote a book and got rejected and wrote other things that got turned into a book without my asking. This decade I stepped up onto stage and I shone. This decade I was silenced and I made that silence my most deafening statement ever. This decade I birthed a community and watched it grow and wither and hit back and die and be reborn. This decade I fought patriarchy and religion politics. This decade my world was ravaged by #MeToo and #CAANRC.
In the last year of this decade, I turned 40. The official onset of middle age. The last lap of my long-term life plan. This year I remembered Y2K after recounting it as an anecdote to slightly bemused Gen Y kids wanting a career in digital.
I truly have no life plan any more. But how well did what I had, stack up against recessions, economic busts, terrorism and wokeness? It kept me calm long enough to deal with uncertainty. It gave me the courage to venture into new things. It allowed me to carry purpose. It was a useful crutch for the lessons I had to learn and now it’s gone.
Maybe I don’t need it anymore. Either way, I’ve already lived nearly half a life and accumulated some things, not the least of all – conviction. Here’s to another twenty years. Share it with me, with dignity, joy & power?