A few years ago, when I was having the least sabbatical type sabbatical you could imagine, I wrote a post on my personal/professional blog with a similar title as this article. The focus then was on caregiving, a role I had been thrust into unexpectedly, during a season of what was supposed to be rest. “Arrange whatever pieces come your way” is from Virginia Woolf’s A Writer’s Diary. (Though, alas, I have never read this work, I have heard the quote in various contexts over the years.)
Here, at the midpoint of midlife, I feel this quote more than ever before.
Professionally, I am realizing that my experience of midlife is mirroring that of women before me, in that I am overlooked and almost invisible in some rooms, and seen only in certain ways in others. The professional “pieces” I am currently given are pretty much homogenous to what they have been for the last several years. I can fit them in, almost without thinking.
I am also at a unique point in parenting. My youngest child is 15 and my oldest is 20. The busiest of the busy parenting years are behind me, and I revel in my amazing older kids. At the same time that I recognize and celebrate their independence, I still want to be attuned to my relationship with them. The parenting “pieces” that come my way I definitely want to pick up, and be gentle with, and turn over, and place gracefully (and shape into a beautiful completion).
In terms of other relationships, most of my closest friends are in the same demographic of life I am in. We are saying goodbye to beloved family members in the generation above us. We are in the sandwich generation. We are trying to work on multiple puzzles at once, sometimes with harmony and sometimes with out, trying not to scatter or mix them up. We are living with people in the same circumstances we are in, feeling the same complex emotions, working their own complicated puzzles, and trying not to stomp on them.
In community, I am well aware that some (many) people don’t have the luxury of pondering their “pieces” because they are instead worried about the cost of housing, the cost of healthcare, the cost of food, and the cost of gas. (Honestly I get worried about the cost of those last two things too, and I am writing this with a goodly amount of privilege).
One of the things I am trying, as I sort through the pieces of all these puzzles, is to be more reflective. Less scrolling, more soul searching. I want to understand myself better, and make conscious and thoughtful decisions on all these pieces that are coming my way. I want to be kinder to people instead of more frustrated, which is a theme I am seeing in myself these days. I am frazzled and just don’t have a lot of empathy for people sometimes. (That’s bad business for a social worker, you know.)
I want to model this intentionality for my daughters, for my students, and others in my sphere of influence. Mostly I want to do it for myself, to not be bitter as I grow older about misplaced pieces, missing pieces, and more.
Self-reflection has great value, in terms of emotional intelligence and leadership in various settings. This reflective practice toolkit, from the University of Cambridge, is a great tool for getting started with some questions. Here are 100 journal prompts for self-discovery.
Grab a notebook, pick out some self-reflection questions for the next few days, and arrange whatever pieces come your way.
