Loss and Optimism

In the past week I have learned of multiple deaths, some close to me, some close to those I know and love. Death always brings forward the realization we do not know how much time we have. There is an eventual end and loss to all things. 
"This too shall pass," is a truth we come up against over and over again and again in life.
There are no words we can murmur that undo the pain of loss and the pain of helplessness. We call it grief. We go through mourning and in the midst of it we try to hold onto the hope that we will have better days ahead.
Such is the reality that is brought by death.

As I navigated my boat into Covid my son was in his first year of University, my relationship with my ex-husband were transitioning, my father died and then I went into isolation - a bubble with only myself. The physical self was already on a downward spiral with muscle strength harder to hold onto, energy levels lower and brain fog more prevalent. Something called menopause. In the midst of the isolation and uncertainty, it was not possible for me to feel hope. 

I persisted in working against the physical diminishment, exercising every day. Using my new found time to hike more, to clean up fallen trees from the yard, to write as best I could. But lurking in the shadows of my mind was the constant nagging feeling that in the end, I would eventually die and any gains now were not going to stop that from happening.  No new job promotion, no stronger physical exertion, no major epiphany was going to prevent what is inevitable... we all must die one day.

The question: "What's the point?" lingered. I expressed it openly to those I held in trust, seeking their perspective. I was not depressed per se, I was trying to find optimism in a body and mind that was slowly becoming less masterful. There was a reality that I had awakened to that perhaps one cannot see when one is in their 20's, 30's and 40's. We all begin a decline somewhere in our 40's and 50's and our lives become less impactful on others in our 60's and 70's. 

Perhaps less impactful is not fully accurate, perhaps impactful in a different way. In my search for meaning during the ensuing years, I went to my favourite retreat centre - the Himalayan Institute in Honesdale, PA. As I expressed my fears, I received an insightful message...
"you have just not found your new purpose yet."
Perhaps this is what happens in midlife. It is not that we become less, perhaps it is that we become less enraptured with the things that gave us purpose and meaning. We may blame the partner or the job, but perhaps we are looking for a deeper level of meaning and mastery. 

Many of us make the mistake of continuing the search in the same old places... for me it was the climbing gym. But my efforts always felt forced and unfulfilled in the end. I loved the relationships, the joy of watching others succeed and holding the pain of failure, but I was no longer enamoured with the chase for an external marker of success; the next grade, better performance in a competition. 

Here I am many months after Covid restrictions have been lifted and, for all intensive purposes, we are back to a new normal. I did change the work I am doing and that change has left me working remotely so still a little isolated. I have still not found the answer to my question of what the point is, and I have still not established a new goal, but I am more optimistic that I will find one. I have more faith that perhaps even if I do not do big things and I become less and less masterful at the things that used to define me - climbing, strength, mobility, my ability to teach - I do still have some good to do in the world, and that good will be profound to those it touches. 

What are your goals? Where are you on a scale of mastery and potential for mastery? What impact do you want your life to have? Do you believe it is possible? If not, what is possible for you that will give you a sense of meaning and fulfillment?