But I’ve also watched something even more profound occurring: the emergence of what can only be described as pure joy, the feeling that arises when a woman is truly coming home to herself. My own experience bears this out. I marveled at the power of my newfound nesting instinct and at how differently I chose to do things once I had set both feet across the threshold of my new life.
One of the most striking things I discovered after my husband left was an almost physical need to reclaim and redecorate my home, especially the family and guest rooms. One day, with catalogs, telephone, and credit card in hand, within less than an hour I bought a couch, a rug, end tables for the guest bedroom, and even curtains, something that at the age of forty-nine I had never done. My work in combination with my mothering had left no time or inclination to contemplate decor, let alone participate in choosing it. But that was my old life. Now, with my inner landscape rapidly changing, I felt a powerful compulsion to make my outer surroundings reflect the rejuvenation that was going on inside me.
I discovered that feng shui, the Chinese art of placement, helped me enormously in this process. I came to see that our homes reflect our lives, and that by consciously changing our living spaces according to the principles of feng shui, we can actually create improvements in our lives on all levels. By using a tool known as the baqua map, one can determine which areas of a room or an entire home correspond to specific aspects of life—for example, health and family, wealth and prosperity, helpful people and travel, love and marriage. This information allows you to enhance and change your physical space in order to enhance and change that particular area of your life. And as with all things in life, when you do this, things sometimes get worse before they get better—kind of like taking out the garbage as part of the process of spring cleaning. When my friend and colleague Terah Kathryn Collins, the author of The Western Guide to Feng Shui (Hay House, 1999), did a consultation with me, we both laughed when we realized that my husband had left within four months of the time I had enhanced the love-and-marriage area of our property with a beautiful arbor. She said, “I see this over and over. When you enhance an area of your life that isn’t working, you first have to let go of the parts that are standing in the way of getting what you really want.” I also put a lighted lamppost in the helpful-people-and-places area of the property. Within two months my life became filled with skillful people who help me on all levels of my life, both at home and at work. (See Resources for feng shui information.)
I wanted my home to be the kind of place where people felt comfortable and welcome. And I wanted to feel at home there, surrounded by colors and textures that drew me in. For the first time in my life, I knew exactly what my personal style was and exactly how I wanted my rooms to look and feel. As the furniture began to come in and the rooms took shape, I felt delighted with the results, going back to look at them over and over again. Slowly it began to dawn on me what I was really doing: I was creating a potential space for all the new energy that was beginning to stream into my life. Whereas before I had been grieving the empty nest, now I was re-creating my old nest into a revitalized place that reflected who I was becoming. It was a nest that would, of course, comfortably accommodate my children, their friends, and the new people who, I felt sure, would be coming into my life. And they have come!
PAMELA: A Home of Her Own
While for me the process of coming home to myself meant accepting the breakup of my marriage, Pamela found a different—and very unconventional—path. She wrote:
I am forty-seven years old and have been in a relationship with Don for eight years, married for five. He’s twelve years older, and his philosophy of life is pretty much “My way or the highway.” Don’s unilateral decisions aren’t always supportive of me, and last year I decided that I needed to make choices that reflected my beliefs and prepared me for my future. He travels frequently for business and pleasure, and I spent a good deal of time alone in a house that didn’t feel like home. I had even created a room of my own, but it wasn’t enough.
So I’ve bought a home of my own. The marriage has had to undergo a transformation now that we are not together on a daily basis, and it could have failed. Don lives where he wants to, and I live where I need to. I cannot describe the joy I feel at living in a place that supports me emotionally and spiritually. I am moved to nurture my home and garden just as it nourishes me. I am delighted by the simplest things. Friends who have visited agree that it is me.
I am grateful that I earn a living and am capable of being financially independent of Don. And perhaps finally succeeding at my career gave me the confidence to create my dream home. After a lifetime of determining my worth through male approval, I am now living from my heart rather than from obligation.
VOCATIONAL AWAKENING AT MIDLIFE
For some women, the home—which had been the central focus before midlife—becomes secondary to a new passion, which reveals itself in the form of a vocational calling. Other women leave their previous work “home” to start their own businesses or change careers. Still others are simply forced by life circumstances onto a new path.
The breadth of a woman’s interests and contacts outside the home during the childbearing years will have an impact on the ease with which she moves into her new life. Some experimentation may be required before a woman can discover where her passions lie, and it may take longer for some to find their niche than others. Those who continue to define themselves by the roles they no longer have—such as mother or wife—and who have long lived enclosed in those roles may be overwhelmed by fear and lapse into immobility. But the key to finding new passions is getting out and getting moving, even if you don’t know where you are going. Sometimes it’s simply a matter of stumbling from point A to point B with your eyes wide open to the possibilities.
SYLVIA: Discovering the Artist
Sylvia retired from teaching the same year her youngest son married and moved to California. It was difficult for her to simultaneously relinquish her role of mother and mentor to her own children as well as to the third-grade students she’d taught for the past twenty-five years. She kept in contact with me through the grieving process, and she admitted there were times she felt she’d never find herself.
“Everything about who I am is wrapped up in kids,” she wrote. “On one hand, the extra free time made it more difficult, because I didn’t know what to do with myself. The days were so long and bleak.” But in retrospect that time was a luxury, because it allowed her to give focused attention to her feelings and let them out—loud and clear. “My husband continued to go to work, so I was able to cry out loud, wail, even roar in frustration. I made some pretty anguished, animal-like sounds alone in that house—just me and those powerful feelings, bouncing off the walls.”
Then, a few weeks later, Sylvia started looking at her house as though it were real estate she was contemplating buying—it had lots of potential but needed adjustments to fit her new life. She knocked down walls and incorporated the kids’ rooms into the main living space, creating a great room that could accommodate her monthly meetings with local career women who gathered for the camaraderie and to share new skills, projects, and philosophies. Sylvia did much of the remodeling work herself, despite never having hung wallboard or laid ceramic tile before. When it was Sylvia’s turn to demonstrate a new skill to the group, she showed them the tilework she’d done in her bathroom. Sylvia started tiling bathrooms for her friends, using handmade tiles and innovative patterns. What started out as a project spanning several weekends has turned into a second profession: two years later, through word of mouth, she has landed clients as far away as New York, and she’s hired and trained two women to help her keep up with the demand. “I love the travel—I’ve always been a homebody, and I never went anywhere without my husband. Now I traipse off to visit beautiful homes and work my magic to make those homes even more beautiful, while my husband stays here and runs the household. Several clients asked me to sign my name on a prominent tile in thei
r finished bathroom, like an artist signs paintings. I feel exhilarated and free as a bird. I love this new life.”
JUDITH: Finding Her True Vocation
For many women, the key to finding their niche at midlife is in identifying the passions they’ve always had but never pursued fulltime. At fifty-four, after more than thirty years in the corporate world, Judith chose to take early retirement. Having looked back over her many years of doing volunteer work, she realized that caring for the elderly was a dream she wanted to pursue. Rather than make excuses for herself because of her age, she undertook a demanding graduate program to prepare for her new work. She wrote:
I chose to leave my position as a business analyst and embark on a career change. I left with a mission statement: to dedicate my life work to the self-enlightenment, creative development, and joy of being an elder, and to provide services to elders that enhance their physical, mental, and spiritual growth. I interviewed with day care directors and program managers while continuing my volunteer efforts by delivering hot meals to elderly shut-ins. This past June I completed the required coursework and internship for a master’s degree in gerontological psychology.
I have learned that although it can be extremely painful at times, it is only through the process of transition, with eyes and heart wide open, that an individual can truly succeed in personal growth. Now I feel the excitement and fear of taking my plan to fruition—actually doing what I have been studying and talking about doing! My daughter says, “Mom, who will hire you at your age?” My husband wishes me to succeed. I know I have unlimited inner resources and that new birth is emerging as I enter this new phase of my life.
Many midlife women discover that as they find new direction in life, they themselves become new, and so they attract new friends. One patient put it to me this way: “I became more interesting. I had more to offer on a personal level—I had more to talk about than kids and soccer practice and my husband’s promotion. This new me is someone I really like!”
A ROAD MAP FOR NAVIGATING
UNKNOWN TERRITORY
Taking those first steps on your journey home to yourself may be one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. But as you venture onto this new path you will find that it loses its intimidating aspects and becomes instead a voyage of exploration and discovery. Here are a few signposts to help you along.
TAKE HEART: Though painful, your feelings of loneliness, like all feelings, will gradually lessen and change as time goes on, especially as you choose new and healthier ways of thinking and being in the world. Be present for your own experience while it’s happening. The depth to which you allow yourself to feel pain is the depth to which you will also feel joy. And you have to trust that joy will come again, even though your life will never be exactly the same again. The news is good. I’ve been hearing about it for years. And I’m a living example myself.
One of my newsletter subscribers wrote:
I haven’t felt this good since the whole nonsense started in my early teens. After a hideous perimenopausal epoch in my forties, I look forward to my fifty-second birthday with a big smile! All those years of chasing relationships to make my identity! I now live blissfully alone (except for Harriet the cat) and have an interesting relationship with an unusual man that does not define me. Even though my body will no longer put up with whatever I want to do to it, the aches and pains are treated with acceptance and equanimity. Life is filled with possibilities and delightful friendships, home and garden, dancing the Argentine tango, travel, lots else to do—but great respect for quiet, restful, self-indulgent times.
EMBRACE THE WISDOM OF ROUTINE AND DISCIPLINE: Either start or continue at least one activity that is scheduled regularly. You cannot imagine how healing a regular routine is. In my case, this routine includes daily exercise and a twice-weekly Pilates class. Pilates is a demanding type of exercise that involves moving from and focusing one’s attention on what is known as one’s “center” or “powerhouse,” the muscles of the deep pelvis, buttocks, and abdomen that form a band around the lower body. No matter what else is going on in my life, I make the time to go to the studio and work on the link between my muscles and my brain. The sameness of it and the discipline involved in this activity are very anchoring for me—a part of my life that hasn’t changed or gone away. In fact, on the morning my husband left, I went to my class as usual. Though I had no idea what would happen to our marriage at the time, and though my heart was racing and I was scared, getting on the Pilates equipment and going through my usual routine was very calming and reassuring. Though a significant part of my world was falling apart, I could still concentrate on my breathing, the strength of my muscles—and the fact that the planet was going to keep spinning. Pilates has been a key discipline that has transformed my body, making it stronger and more flexible than ever before.
ENHANCE YOUR DAILY LIFE: In the first few months of my almost-empty nest—my younger daughter was still home but deeply involved in her own activities—I began the practice of lighting a fire every night and keeping the doors of the woodstove open so that I could enjoy watching the flames as I ate dinner. In all our years of marriage, my husband and I had rarely opened the doors of this stove because it lessens the amount of heat that is produced. But now I was much less interested in thermodynamics, and instead simply wanted to bring the comfort of firelight into my home—especially at dinnertime, when the prospect of facing an evening alone loomed large before me. I also lit candles at dinner each night and played my favorite CDs. Six months later, when my second daughter left for her first semester away and I was truly faced with being alone every night, I was determined to use my time to tune in to and deepen my relationship with myself and my spirit. Mostly I wanted to heal the parts of myself that had led to my need to go through a divorce in the first place. And I wanted to get comfortable enough being alone in my home that I didn’t need to jump into a new relationship right away just to avoid the pain of my husband’s and daughters’ absence. I knew that to do so might result in a relationship that simply repeated old, unhealed patterns. I’ve noticed that the people who allow themselves this time tend to end up with much healthier and happier relationships down the road.
KNOW THAT THE FEAR OF LOSS IS OFTEN WORSE THAN THE ACTUAL LOSS: I found that my dread of the empty nest was much worse than the actual experience. In fact, I was so busy with work that I enjoyed having only myself to take care of. Besides, I learned that I like reading in bed as late as I want, going to as many movies as I feel like, taking a bath at any hour of the day or night, and generally discovering what my own needs and desires actually are. Though I had originally planned to have my mother come visit and go skiing with me during my first empty-nest winter, the time flew by so quickly that we never got around to it. Nevertheless, it felt good to know that she was willing to come and provide support and recreation if I needed it.
REMEMBER THAT WE’RE STRONGER AND MORE RESILIENT THAN WE MAY THINK: On the day that would have been my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, I awoke and just stayed in bed, allowing myself to experience my emotions for a few minutes. I hadn’t made it to the quarter-century mark in my marriage, and I felt bad about that. I thought I might spend the whole day feeling sad. But to my surprise, I didn’t. Diane, a woman who has worked with me for over twenty years, gave me a funny card. On the cover there was a ridiculous photo of a muscular man dressed up in a tutu with a snake draped over his shoulder. When you opened the card, the greeting read, “Still looking for Mr. Right!” I laughed out loud and put the card in my journal. Later I went out to dinner to celebrate a friend’s birthday. The day came and went and I stayed calm and happy. The previous year my heart had been breaking on the day of my anniversary, and I’d dissolved in tears at dinner that night with my two daughters. One year later I was renewed and at peace.
I won’t pretend that going through a divorce and seeing both my daughters leave in the same year was easy. That first empty-nest year was the most difficult time of my life, as I exp
erienced the crumbling of everything I had always thought I could count on. Paradoxically, that year also proved to be one of the most strengthening and exhilarating of my entire life. Looking back, I marvel at how far I’ve come. By turning my life over to Source energy and being willing to roll up my sleeves and rebuild my life, I’ve become infused with the vitality of hope, joy, and new beginnings. Every day I’m reminded that the energy that supports new life abounds. We just have to believe in it, surrender to it, and ask for help.
4
This Can’t Be Menopause, Can It?
The Physical Foundation
of the Change
Many women are caught off guard by the first signs of the climacteric. They don’t expect symptoms to occur until they’ve reached the end point—the absolute cessation of periods. But a woman’s last period is usually preceded by a long period of transition, which may include symptoms such as hot flashes, mood swings, difficulty sleeping, and night sweats. In fact, so-called menopausal symptoms are worse during perimenopause and then cease within a year or so after the last period.
Doreen was a vital, youthful-looking woman of forty-six when she had her first hot flash. She’d noticed a certain irritability in the way she related to her husband, who had begun to tease her about being menopausal, but she adamantly denied the possibility. “I’m still having my periods like clockwork,” she argued. “My mom was fifty-three when she hit menopause. I’m not old enough to be going through the change!”
It is true that the age at which a woman’s mother had her last period is probably the best predictor of when it will happen to her. (Though there are certainly exceptions.) But if she doesn’t understand that the first symptoms of the climacteric may reveal themselves well before that time—sometimes ten or more years earlier—she is likely to protest, with Doreen, “This can’t be menopause … can it?”
The Wisdom of Menopause Page 14
