Note 3: The “existential” part of a midlife crisis
I’m sure that an existential crisis in its purest form is different from a midlife crisis, but I don’t think that these can be separated in today’s world. We can no longer close our eyes to the fact that we’ve changed the planet so much that in the worst case, we may have ruined it for the coming generations. At least I can’t turn it off, II’m not a fan of “strategies” (manuals what to do in specific situations) because they are worthless as soon as life happens, but I believe that having a meta-strategy (how to think about change) is quite helpful for constructive navigation of the life phase that follows a midlife crisis. I’m calling this phase “middle adulthood” for brevity.
Today, the impact of my choices for future generations are a much bigger factor, than it was ten or fifteen years ago. Perhaps it is about legacy, but for me it’s less about my own legacy as a person and more our legacy as a community, a society and a species. Perhaps it is the childless person’s version of the more tangible “building a better world for our children and grandchildren” parents experience, but either way, I imagine the results are the same: a questioning of whether I’m doing right by the coming generations. In a complex society, where every choice you make leads to incalculable consequences, and each choice you make seems to lead tho two more choices, where you feel the responsibility to save the world but lack the power to do so on your own, the question “am I doing the right things?” becomes existential on many levels. There are your personal needs to consider, and those of your family and friends. The needs of your community, and the society as a whole. There is always more you could do, and it seems that no matter what you do, it always seems too futile. This is especially true if you’re thinking about choices that go against the current trend of convenience and easy access. What does it matter that you stop eating animals for ethical reasons, if there are people who die of starvation, and children are held in concentration camps? Social media may be detrimental to your mental health, but Facebook makes life so much easier that it’s best not to dwell too much on the price tag. And what is the point of recycling, or getting an electric car, or flying less when the levels of CO2 in the atmosphere are still increasing, and the increase is still accelerating year-to-year?
I think that the most tangible point when “midlife” turned “existential” for me was thinking about my career and job. Had you asked me in the beginning of 2017, I would have said that I was happy where I was. I wouldn’t be lying. I had fancy title, the highest salary I’d ever earned, and reasonable hours. Yet in June 2017, I resigned from that job. There were many factors that contributed to this, and this was before the storm broke out — yet I cannot escape the thought that had I not resigned, this whole process would have been very different. I no longer had to deal with the question “should I switch careers?”, I could go right for “what do I really want to do?”. I was fortunate enough to be able to buy me some time at this point; I freelanced a little on the side, and I had some savings that could supplement whatever gaps my freelance life left.
I think the note here is this: at some point in the process, you‘ll have to think about what changes you want to make. If the question “should I switch careers?” becomes relevant for you, you will be vulnerable to the sunk cost fallacy. This may stop you from asking the real question “what do I want to do?”. That question is overwhelming in and by itself, without the added emotional dread of sunk costs. When I was thinking about what I wanted to do, I came up with a way of making an emotional inventory of my skills and knowledge, which helped me figure out my next steps.
