Middle Age and Oyster Shells

I'm reading a sweet little book written by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea, during a vacation she took by herself in 1955. It has an island setting, and is the result of her spending two weeks by herself. You'll remember that the Lindbergh's suffered the devastating loss of their first born son to kidnapping. They went on to have five more children, and a bustling life. This book is about life, marriage, change, and the beauty of ourselves, something that we often miss as we age.

In her narrative she uses shells as metaphors for life stages. The sunrise shell for early marriage. All pink and smooth, as with the first blush of love. Then comes the oyster shell with all of the little shells attached to the outside, like our homes, expanded to accommodate our growing family. The oyster is firmly attached to the rocky shore through tough, intertwined netting. Much like the lives we build to support our families, secure our place in society, stability for our children. We are busy during this time. Competing, striving, accomplishing, accumulating.

But then the family begins to leave for shells of their own. And we begin to wonder if we haven't outgrown our oyster shell. Lindbergh writes:

"Perhaps middle age is, or should be, a period of shedding shells; the shell of material accumulations and possessions, the shell of the ego. Perhaps one can shed at this stage in life as one sheds in beach living; one's pride, one's false ambitions, one's mask, one's armor. Was that armor not put on to protect one from the competitive world? If one ceases to compete, does one need it? Perhaps one can at last in middle age, if not earlier, be completely oneself. And what a liberation that would be!"

Middle age should be a time to take stock, let some of life's ambitions go, be okay with being average, everyday, extraordinary in our simplicity. Shedding the things that we've outgrown like our oyster shells, we are now free to explore life in new ways, unencumbered by the things we thought we needed to be happy. Free at last to explore, learn, teach, and nurture our own personal gifts. 

Middle age is a time to shed the old, embrace the new, and be happy with what is.

Midlife Shuffle, Contd.

So do you think the weirdness of these days are because of our age? Or is it because of our age relative to our economic and social upheaval? Many of us are not exactly doing what we thought we would be doing at this stage of our lives. Or would we be going through this shuffle of our friends, priorities, likes, dislikes, tolerances, world view, anyway? I remember my father becoming less social and more alone during a stage in his midlife - and I thought it strange at the time. But the literature says this is often the case - more alone time, self-assessment, less patience for bs. But also a marvelous love of each moment, nature, animals, a heart brimming for all the magnificence in this world. Reconnecting with old friends. I'm reading a wonderful book recommended by a fellow blogger. Pema Chodron's "When Things Fall Apart". Seems timely. She has others that I will read, also. So is this a time when we decide how we want the last years of our lives to look?

P.S. Thank you to Chic Geek for the award - all about that tomorrow!

Midlife Shuffle

Lately I have been thinking about my particular age, and where it fits into human development literature. And I really believe the mid-fifties are completely left out. It seems to jump from adulthood to late adulthood. Yet, I sense this time to be of great importance. I, for one, am going through as big a restructure in identity as I did in my twenties. What about you?