Hi, it’s me. Fall in Seattle always amazes me and never gets old. This October is delivering right on brand. Fall is my favorite time to plan next year’s garden, while all the wins and challenges are fresh in my memory and I can make the right adjustments. Thank you for continuing to meet me here in this space - I enjoy telling you stories, and I hope they are resonating.
A few years ago while I was waiting for the bus, a gray haired lady in her 70s started making small talk with me at the bus stop. As we chatted about the sun, the glorious fall day, and other pleasantries, I was digging through all the pockets of my backpack looking for my sunglasses. I finally gave up and said, "Oh well. No big whoop."
Without missing a beat, this lady says, "I remember when everything was such a big whoop. I'm glad I'm past all that, because in retrospect they weren't such big whoops after all."
I think about her whenever I start getting worked up over something. I ask myself, is this really a Big Whoop?
In my 30s everything felt like a Big Whoop. The kids were younger, the budget was tighter – it felt like the stakes were higher. If my kids were disrespectful or Bryan bought the wrong English muffin brand, IT WAS A BIG WHOOP.
And then? Things kinda just mellowed out.
Yes, I am more mature now and have “done the work.” Life experience has taught me to see beyond the moment and react less. But also? Life is objectively easier now than it was in my 30s. We have more money, the kids manage themselves independently, and my marriage is more resilient. I know myself better now than I did fifteen years ago.
There’s a small part of me that’s in a hurry to get older. I’m ready for more sleeping in. I’m ready to leave work politics behind. I’m ready to sit on my front porch and complain about how kids these days call everyone “brah.” I have a fantasy that life slows down and is less complicated, less stressful.
I know better than to rely on this fantasy, though. I’ll write more about my mom later, but the short story is that her prime retirement years were sabotaged by stroke and dementia, and I carry around a fear that, like her, my late 60s and 70s will not be filled with the joy of aging gracefully I fantasize about.
But in the meantime, I attempt to live in the present and enjoy what is right in front of me - home, family, friends, health, community. I have fewer fucks to give than I used to, and it’s been a huge mental health benefit to find other ways to use them.
Until next time,
Jen
Question of the Week
As you get older, what mindsets or previously-held beliefs are you outgrowing? What are the Big Whoops that aren’t so big anymore?
News + Notes
I read Being Mortal, by Atul Gawande back in 2018, and it continues to inform how I think about my future. The book covers the cultural shift of elder care moving from home to care facilities, the systemic challenges to our culture and economy as Gen-X is poised to be one of the largest elder populations we’ve seen, and how to thoughtfully plan for “aging in place.”
Gawande anchors the book around his personal story of navigating these issues with his own father. This personal narrative together with his expertise as a practicing physician kept the book from feeling clinical and dense.
If your future involves caring for an aging parent or you’re thinking about your own future as an aging adult, this book is a great starting point to begin planning and asking the right questions. Highly recommend.
Until I was maybe 33, I thought I would die before I would leave the house without makeup on. Today at 37, I don't own any. Sorry, younger self :)
I love this and I love getting older. Thank you for sharing Jen 🥰