Growing up in our middle years

Why read this story?

Editor's note: The middle years of one’s life feel like a wide, expansive plateau. We are the parents of young children and the children of elderly parents. Months rush by leaving barely a memory of what we did with them, yet some sun-streaked evenings stay with us like bookmarks. Mornings stretch to accommodate solitude and unexpected conversations. Words linger, like shadows that stretch with the fading light. “What if I have misunderstood myself my entire life,” I wrote on a page in my diary a few years ago. It was a time when I was beginning to identify how much I was debilitated by shame and self-judgement. I wanted to calm down my inner critic and re-parent her. I was learning to practise acceptance and generosity towards myself. Our middle years are a time to consolidate one’s experiences and emotions. Our life events have bounced about and been back and forth and now is the time to zoom out and see the patterns in our journey so far. We need to take stock and recalibrate our expectations. My elder brother lives in …