Midlife Liminality Series: Finding Purpose and Identity in the Midlife Transition: Part 2

Liminal Space - Arriving at the Unknown

“All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost." – J.R.R. Tolkien The Fellowship of the Ring.

The profound teaching of the great Buddha reveals that the essence of all things lies in impermanence.

Only as we start to age do we begin to see physical things about us slipping away. Physical things like our youthfulness, the sparkles in our eyes, and the beauty we hold ourselves accountable for. And conceptual things like the importance of our roles in family and society; our role as parents, children, good citizens, etc. This list endlessly goes on.

But aging happens the second we're coming into the world, we just don't see it. Just the realization of this is enough to trigger middle-aged men and women to be distressed, anxious, and even depressed—if we're not prepared for our state of mind.

Before we begin with the first phase of this long process of midlife liminality. We need to understand the nature of it to begin taking a step into this pitch-black, unknown space full of emotional mayhem that comes with when life is presented with major disruptions.

This midlife transition has dimensions of depth and complexity far beyond just the physical aspects we apparently see. There are more things in life than the physical aspects that are constantly changing, and in my life, I experienced them all at once.

First, in 2015, I quit my job. This marked a significant shift for me, as I became self-reliant and financially independent at the age of eighteen. The financial insecurity that came with living on my husband's income, to me, was literally the feeling of being taken away from my ability to breathe on my own and replaced by the respirator machine. This came under the circumstances that I got married and relocated to a country where recruiting a female foreigner is still to this day, a challenging job market.

It is a no-brainer. Anyone with sufficient life experience would be able to relate to the complexity of this event without having to really get married, quit a job, or move to another continent.

In short, there were two different worlds I had to navigate and survive at the same time, which was in the mind of this new person whom I hadn't yet gotten to know and the physical world I was living in.

Now, picture this middle-aged lady, who didn't have to go to work, sitting at the table every morning, having breakfast, figuring out what she was supposed to do after this breakfast was over. Topping that with the foreign environment with no family or friends, observing how to become a wife, and conversing introspectively day and night, trying to make sense of this new space and time of life she was in.

Oh—memories.

Having to learn how to operate in this manner, in a world where there was no definite sense of time wasn't the hardest part. The hardest part was having to come to terms with the fact that my former useful, important, worthwhile, and confident self was probably now dead. Irrevocably dead.

She's dead. This 'architect Kwan' I knew my whole life, is dead! Gone. Wtf.

It wasn't the reality of things but it was the way I felt about my life. The biggest deal of all was—

Who was 'I' and where was this 'I' I used to know? And then watch that vanish into thin air.

This disintegration of the persona happened quite abruptly therefore the grip of unpleasant emotions was profound. The feeling of anxiety, stress, the sense of loss and absence, confusion, nostalgic longing for I didn't quite yet know what, anger, panic; basically, all the emotional attendants of distress one can think of.

The way I described it was—

'Like having my legs amputated and being strapped to a wheelchair. Knowing that for the rest of this new life, I'd be deprived of my freedom and would be forced to stay in this trapped wheelchair with my eternal self-hate, no dignity, and there's nothing I can do about it—every day until the end of my time.'

Literally, this sounds like a voice in the head of an about-to-plunge-into-the-abyss-of-panic-attack, wreck.

It was that dramatic. It would bear a similar feeling to mourning the death of someone I dearly loved who died a sudden death without saying goodbye. It was the pain, the fear, the anger, the confusion, then denial, and rage, then grief, and pain started again. The vicious cycle of grief may repeat a few rounds before we can come to acceptance, or for those unlucky ones, the acceptance phase never comes.

In the next part, I will begin to unpack the first phase of the midlife transition which is; the separation. It's the phase when the ego begins to let go of the attachment to the previous identity and come to terms with reality. You will begin to identify the source of the pain–the ghost that haunts you, by immersing yourself in the grieving process, mourning all you must, and then burying the dead.

If you're lucky, you will be ready to begin this deep work to discover the core of your being, the Self, and I guarantee this will be the remarkable journey of a lifetime.

This is part 2 of 3, of the “Midlife Liminality: Finding Purpose and Identity in the Midlife Transition.”