I have been thinking a lot about the idea and feeling of “longing” these past few months.
There’s a lot of definitions and interpretations of what this can mean for people- nostalgia, acute desire, etc. but for me, it’s more of a yearning to find a source for a specific state of deep contentedness and joy, which has been pretty elusive to me my whole life, but something I can actually feel and imagine when I daydream certain things.
The feeling is real, there just isn’t a real and consistent source for it in my life at the moment. I have felt glimpses of it at times, but just the edges, and even if I try and be mindful and lose myself to the moment, it’s still just a moment, and not something I can return to at will. When I am in a flow state when painting or drawing, or on a drop on a rollercoaster are two things that are somewhat accessible to me at the moment that get me there. Sometimes. But those are fleeting, and smaller versions of what I feel like I am capable of feeling.
I’m an only child who is estranged (going on about four years…) from my elderly parents. One of my parents has significant mental illness- OCD and NPD- and it got to the point where it was healthier for both of us to disengage. Being in each other’s orbit cost us both considerably. After I finished graduate school I moved close to them in Florida to try and ease their anxiety and support both her and my father because they kept pushing for it, but in the end it probably would have been better for me to create the boundary much earlier in life. I always felt for my dad- though. He tried hard, but in the end, his loyalty and obligation went to my mom.
When I was in Florida, I lived in a deeply conservative and um… frightened.. community where anything diverse (race, gender, lifestyle, culture, etc.) was deeeeeply discouraged. In the twenty years I was there, it became like an epidemic. Any progressive, diverse, or multi-cultural residents left. I’m progressive and my daughter is Asian (adopted) so this did not sit well with us. We started planning an exit strategy, and until we could leave we stayed low-profile because there’s no inviting change or open minds in that situation.
Anyway, in 2000 an opportunity came up to move across the country to California.
If I consider the move to California four years ago the big reset in life, that means right now I am starting
my life. For the first time. In my 40’s. NOW. And there’s no roadmap for that, there’s no flow of peers that are going through similar experiences. So all I have to go on is my thoughts and ideas and what’s possible and realistic and maybe a little bit unrealistic (hence the idea of hope) and see what happens.
Since we left Florida, it’s been hectic. But now I’m getting to the point where there’s a bit of a light (maybe) at the end of the tunnel and I’m thinking about what’s next and what I need for myself, the things I have maybe stifled all these years.
Ever since I started zeroing in on the “longing” several months ago, and took the time to try and puzzle it out a little, I decided that I really wanted to put some effort into finding something in my “real” life that gives me a feeling of… something like awe, whimsy, wonder.
Half of me is incredibly hopeful and feels like it will be a investment of time and energy and tackling “hard things” but that in time and with patience, I can start a meaningful life here and accomplish things I have always wanted to. For me, hitting this point in my life feels like a bit of an open book. That’s scary, though… but moving to California was my life long dream, and I can’t wait to explore it. I waited so long to get here.
But then I wonder if I’m not too late- if some of the things I wish for are beyond me at this point in my life. I’m Gen X, so I’m in the zone of the half century mark, age-wise. I’m so relieved to be this age, but also kind of sensitive and observant of what’s changing- what comes to stay and what slips away. What opportunities there are and what naturally fades away over time.
On the flip side, I believe strongly that if I feel this way, other people my age have to feel the same. I truly believe in my heart of hearts there is at least one person out there similar to me, going through similar feelings.
Every minute seems precious now. I am so afraid of wasting this opportunity to live. I just feel like I am capable of experiencing some deeper something.
I just hope there’s room for me in this place, in this sort of new world I am in. Inside and out.
A common thread in a lot of conversations is how hard it is to make new friends as we age. Apparently much harder if you don’t drink alcohol. We have a large group of people that get together regularly for dinner. Often as many as twelve to fourteen people. I like them all and enjoy their company but they all drink though so the conversation is meaningful for only a limited time before it becomes alcohol fuelled silliness. Very few people are passionate enough about anything interesting to hear a level of excitement in conversation. We often end up looking at each other and ask “do you want to go out and see any people or just stay in and be together”. We talk a lot and discuss a lot of things, books we are reading, music we hear or movies we see. On long road trips we often don’t have music on as we talk about so many different things. We recently down sized and have less space for hobbies or making art and I am not inspired to pick up one of my guitars so I hope we are not losing our passion by being less social. You are not alone in seeking meaningful connections and finding it difficult or uncomfortable but I believe it is possible.