Sitting here, I am slurping down my fourth cup of coffee. Well, I have re-heated the same coffee three times and misplaced twice. I would likely find my coffee quicker if I could find my glasses first.
I swear that my readers and my coffee are secretly playing a daily game of hide and seek – a game that I lose so consistently that my wife and children are becoming concerned for my mental health.
Once my glasses and coffee are secured, I will begin sorting through the malaise of date requests that fill my inbox. My travel schedule is like a calendar Tetris, but I am simultaneously trying to determine which airline will get me from Ft. Lauderdale to Grand Forks via time travel.
These problems come with getting older, but they also come with a sense of relief and freedom.
I am fifty-er something. I am not ashamed to tell you my age if I can remember my actual age. Regardless of what number I tell people, my wife corrects me with a number one year higher than I remember. I am on the backside of the decade and closer to the big 60 than at 50. But I am generally happier than I was in my 40s or 30s. I don't remember my twenties - but evidence suggests I worked too much and played too little.
Since crossing the mid-century mark, my priorities have shifted. I care less about others' opinions and more about my own. I'm more comfortable in my skin than ever before. My focus has shifted from career to family. The start of this journey is a blur, but I can see the end approaching.
Teaching music is harder now than thirty years ago but feels easier.
It's not easier because there is less to do - just fewer people to please. To be clear - not fewer people who want to be pleased - just fewer people I am concerned with pleasing.
Apparently, that's the key.
In a new book, The Happiness Curve: Why Life Gets Better After 50, author Jonathan Rauch explains the gloom and doom associated with your 30's & 40's and rebounds in your 50's, 60's, and even into your 80's.
He states that the source of early life discontent is "A self-eating spiral of discontent," he says. "It's not because there's something wrong with your life, or your job, or your mind, the problem is in our mental health. It's not about the changes in your life, it's how you feel about the changes."
He states that in our 30s and 40s, we constantly pursue achievement - never being satisfied and always looking for the next accomplishment, task, or promotion - creating an ever-evolving state of angst and discontent.
"We seem to be wired to seek maximum status when we are young – the ambition to be on top of the world, to have a big job, the perfect relationship, and a job making lots of money. Or some form of greatness."
"As we get into our 30s and 40s, we've achieved most of those things, but we're not wired to sit back and enjoy our status. The same ambition that made us status hungry makes us hungry for more status. We're on the hedonic treadmill. We don't feel the satisfaction we expected, so we think there's something wrong with our lives."
According to Raush, "Research shows that as we age (late 40's/early 50's) people feel less stress and regret, dwell less on negative information, and are better able to regulate their emotions because status and competition become less important."
I can see myself in all of this. My 30s and 40s were a time of incredible growth and development at work and home. I pushed myself harder and longer than what was likely healthy or productive. But to be fair, that angst and drive produced meaningful work and accomplish things I likely would not have achieved without it. It was a time of intense personal growth and filled with challenges and opportunities.
It was busy. It was chaotic. It was exciting. It was productive. I was challenged and pushed, and I grew in unimaginable ways to my younger self. I would not change any of it; without it, I would not be where I am today.
But was it filled with joy? It's likely not as much as it should have been.
I loved my job and my students. I loved this crazy profession. But I still cared what people think. And according to Raush, that is the key to happiness.
Few people are "judged" to the level of a music teacher. We live under a microscope in a way few educators or people can fully understand. Our students, parents, admin, and audience members judge us. To add insult to injury, 3-10 times a year, we pay professional music educators to adjudicate, document, and share our every mistake. This can be many things, but rarely is it joyful because we care what those people think for personal and professional reasons.
So, as we approach Teacher Appreciation Week, can I ask you worry less about what others think of you, unless it's me. Then you should care alot...
Cause I think you are AMAZING! Simply AMAZING!
Now, if you will excuse me, I have a game of hide-and-seek to play with my coffee cup and readers, except I never get to hide - it's always seek for me.
Have a great week!
Scott