The Thursday Ramble: Happiness and Getting Older

Spo, the dear, posted last week about happiness and aging. This really needs to be a chapter in his book.  And it got me to thinking about my life and happiness. Let me go through by decades. 

I don't remember much about turning 10. The house was crowded, with six of us in about 900 sq. ft. (about 90 sq. meters.) That may have been the year when the farm barely turned a profit, if not it was within a year or so. School was okay, but I was insecure in many ways. My family was in a long stretch of not traveling. 

I remember thinking that turning 20 was traumatic. I was very insecure, struggling with identity, struggling with money. In many ways I was afraid of the world. It was really an unpleasant time for me. 

I ran my first Sprint Triathlon on my 30th birthday, 1/4 mile swim, 12 mile bike ride, and 3.1 mile run at SeaWorld in Orlando. I had lost a bunch of weight, and was still insecure about my body image. I was working 50 hours a week, going to college half time, going to the gym 5 mornings a week at 6:00 AM.  A screen of arrogance covered my insecurities and unhappiness.* I was making good money, and learning that money couldn't buy happiness.** 

The week I turned 40, I started my third and final year of law school. My mid-life crisis included a divorce, finding love, chucking the business***,  a major geographic move, and taking three years off from the real world and going to graduate school. I realized how lucky I was to be able to go back to school at that age, I enjoyed spending time with the brightest group of people I would ever spend time with, and learning for the pure joy of learning.  The curriculum was intense, and very time consuming, but not difficult.  I was finding happiness, much more so than when I turned 20 or 30. 

I was speaking at the National Adult Protective Services conference in Chicago when I turned 50. I went to dinner at a delightful French restaurant with a table full of professional friends. Though I didn't know it at the time, I was nearing the end of a nearly 10 year stint providing free legal assistance to older adults. I was overworked, and underpaid. I often put in 50-60 hours a week. I loved the work,  but the pace was killing me.  In a little over two months I would interview for the job that filled the balance of my career.   

My happiness increased significantly between 50 and 60. I had settled into work that was both fulfilling and paid decently. I was traveling a nice amount. I liked where I was living (and still do.)  There were some challenges, my parents died, I settled the estate, a task not without its challenges.  I had come to be much more comfortable in my skin, with who I am, and who I am not.  I was reading and learning, and writing lots. I had started back enjoying hobbies such as  painting, and photography. 

Since turning 60 happiness has continued to increase. If you want one piece of advice about happiness in later life it would be pay off your mortgage. The last couple of years of work, I took on additional stress becoming director. It was not unpleasant, but it was stressful. Retirement has allowed me to pursue dreams of long walks, long adventures (30 plus day trips.) I am free to say yes to what I want to do, and no to anything I don't feel like doing. Having time to exploit my local library has led me to reading that continues to expand my universe. As I get nearer and nearer to 70, I find myself content, and happy. Life is good, when most of life is "Not my problem." 

* Looking back at it, I was a real jerk in my late 20's, early 30's.  Arrogance and anger covered insecurities and uncertainties. It was thing to be a Yuppy, it was inexcusable to be an asshole, I was, many of us were.

** And I did know where to shop. I was wearing custom tailored suits, driving new cars every few months,  traveling (Europe twice in one year), and wearing an expensive watch (I still have it, I don't wear it.)   

***My favorite line from the BBC comedy "To the Manor Born" was in the final episode when Richard says to Audrey, "What would you say, if I said I was thinking about chucking the business," maybe because when I first heard the line I wanted to "chuck the business". Her answer was "why don't you move back here and mary me." He did. So did I.