Entering the fourth decade of life is a bonafide “life changer.” Some people greet it with vigor, others disdain, and still others shy away in sheer terror. But no matter the feeling, there are few who can escape the grasp of the “40s” without emotion. This column is about the change that comes at 40-and the permission to do what you’ve always wanted-without guilt or regret. I learned that lesson the hard way, but maybe we can encourage you to make your change sooner. Here’s how it started:
The Early Years
As far back as I can remember people have complemented my smile. Comments like “wow, that smile can light up a room,” or “that ever-present smile brightens my day,” were common fare no matter what was going on in life. But with all those complements, one particular statement stuck with me: As a high school underclassman, a senior who was having a particularly bad time commented: “Why are you always smiling? It’s because you’re too young–life’s still good-just wait a few years and that smile will be wiped right off your face.” Though the statement sounds callous, I believe he thought he was doing me a favor. No one could be that happy all the time, he wanted to tell me, and oddly enough, prepare me for the trials life ultimately would have in store. Instead of heeding this message, I defiantly vowed to myself that a smile always would be my hallmark, and life would never change that characteristic.
Even so, I’ve thought of my long-suffering friend and his warning many times over the past few decades. And even more so during the past two years which I’ve often called “the worst of my life.” Being hospitalized twice in less than a year, unable to work, a divorce from my college sweetheart, three moves to temporary living quarters and more–it seemed that as my 40th birthday loomed, I was falling further and further into an abyss rather than achieving the heights I’d so carefully planned. An eternal optimist however (we can’t ditch the smile, remember?), after each setback, I bounced back with renewed vigor, ready to overcome the challenge of the day.
Game Changer
Then came Thanksgiving 2009 and what seemed to be the final straw on my path of optimism. A pulmonary embolism led to an unexpected hospital stay for the second time in less than a year, and with it the feeling that there was no end in sight. In the beginning, I couldn’t understand why the doctors looked at me so incredulously-why the nurses were so attentive and what was the big deal about this blood clot that landed in my lungs. We’ve all heard the commercials for that certain pharmaceutical product warning that no matter how formidable one may be, we mere mortals are no match for a deadly blood clot. So I knew it was serious, but the extent of the seriousness escaped me until further investigation.
Blood clots typically form in an arm or a leg from varied predetermined factors-of which I had none. They’re taken seriously because what doctors don’t want to happen is for that clot, or parts of it, to travel through your veins-which eventually will lead to your heart and possibly then a lung. Once in this area of the body, the coagulated blood can cause heart attack, stroke, difficult breathing and, worst of all-death.
Instead of feeling lucky to be alive, however, I found myself beckoning death-wondering how much more devastation one person could absorb as I floated, ever-so-softly, to the depth of what seemed a bottomless abyss. Less than two years prior, I’d achieved my goal of debt-free living, built a substantial nest egg, and headed a thriving business. Now, I felt practically homeless, penniless in the face of a mountain of medical debt to treat what could be a “rest of your life” condition. Depression was an uncomfortable yet ever-present companion.
I’d lost the battle. My energy, joy, and fighting spirit had left me, and though there were plenty of friends and family to lend support, I felt utterly alone. And as a final, insidious blow, the smile too was vanquished.
Renewed Vigor
What I didn’t know at the time is that falling so low was a blessing that would help me regain strength and provide the knowledge necessary to “continue the fight,” without such dire consequences. A typical “type A” personality plus the drive and determination to achieve my goals proved to be an almost-deadly combination on the road of life. Realizing this led me to work at the art of relaxation-practicing meditation and even becoming a certified yoga instructor. Most of all, I made a point to give people a break and not expect others to have the fast-paced work ethic and steely conquer-like disposition that I possessed. What I didn’t realize however, is that it’s not the outward actions that change the inner being; but that learning, acknowledging and embracing my own weaknesses would change my actions.
And this is the gift the embolism gave me. The realization that all this time the one I needed to give a break is me. All those years of giving, just to finally understand what I thought I knew-that a little receiving goes a long way. I’d mastered knowing when to take time off, when to let my body or my mind rest, to be cognizant of the feelings of others-but under all the actions was the same constitution, the one that placed undue pressure on itself to make things work. The one that, all those years ago, defied my high school friend with the cock of a head and lift of an eyebrow.
As I lay in bed after the hospital stay, getting tested every few days and hearing the doctors’ concerns about what could happen should my blood not be sufficiently thinned, or the dangers of having it too thin-I let go. Finally, whole-heartedly, completely let go, and began to enjoy my first true day of living with a room enlightening smile.
Doni Luckutt is a writer, author and speaker who believes by increasing interpersonal connection, we can stop simply living, and become Simply Alive! Connect with her on Twitter @SimplyAlive, or email Doni@SimplyAliveWorld.com
