What I learned from a former Harlem Globetrotter, an Afro-centric colleague, and the bestie I met on the school bus when I was 14

AKA what I didn't learn from my middle aged women podcasts and other old lady whatnot

I over think. Really. I just rewrote the title to this post four times.

Being a middle aged woman is weird for many reasons. First because it’s just an icky phrase, a yuck descriptor. Aging punk rocker isn’t any better. Old English teacher is such a bad stereotype to hang on oneself. But here’s the thing. I am and am not all of those things.

Mostly I’m a person striving to align with my creativity and to be a strong professional and to do those things, I have to have to *not* feel kicked in the shins by the barnacles of life that have adhered as I’ve lived this thing called life. By barnacles I mean job losses (got laid off in 2009 and lost my house, my professional direction, my mind); partner losses; family dynamics; changes in friendships due to the structures of adulting; realizing sometimes my life fell apart because I turned on a yellow light.

Finding myself once again elbowed over from my intended, structured trajectory during covid, I found myself seeking. What’s next? Or what is what? I diligently listened to a really great podcast, Women in the Middle. I got inspired to take the yoga teacher training I’d always meant to, and I answered the podcaster’s question: “What was your childhood claim to fame?”

I am a teacher. I decided this in the second grade. I manifested it after a creative life in my 20s by going to graduate school at the age of 33. I taught for most of 28 years, enduring three major societal shifts that caused budget cuts, budget cuts, budget cuts. Along the way I lost my oomph, my bounce, my joie d’ vive. I (most often) kept a cheerful countenance and talked a good game, had my goal list and my big crazy dreams list. And my yoga practice and my dogs and my girl-date dinners and time with family and friends and sometimes my running and sometimes my writing and sometimes my photography. But my career had had a cannon ball blasted through it and that hole was a gaping hole in my life. During covid I didn’t even teach. Coming out of covid I heard the podcaster ask, “What was your childhood claim to fame?”

I am a teacher. So I went back into it and found myself at a charter school. Just before that (you know how your phone listens to you and tracks you) I had come across dgmindset on my Instagram. DG is Derick Grant, former Harlem Globetrotter. He was fresh on the insta and would answer questions about the big picture of life while wearing a Life Is Mental sweatshirt. I thought, damn, this guy is spot on and it feels fresh. At the time, I was and had been mired in the “feelings” side of human experience. DG’s stance gave me structure.

At the charter school I met N-, one of the other English teachers. Young enough to be my son. An athlete. Rock solid with the kids. During winter break, he offered our whole staff a welcome at his Saturday morning workout sessions at his training space. I went. I was the only white person there. I was the only old woman there. The first day, I was early—N- said, “I like that.” And I liked his approach to training. I got tears in my stupid eyes that first session, stuck in that feeling mode, when I realized that what N- was offering me was something I’d lost along the way—discipline, but not just the discipline of showing up to work out (I’ve been doing that my whole life). He talked about how he kept track of all his obligations and still showed up to train and to offer training to others (his true gift). And as I listened, I thought this is what I’ve lost. It’s not a to-do list version of discipline and perseverance, it’s the embodiment of all it entails, all it calls up. He described it as, “something spiritual I can’t put into words.” To me it seemed to be discipline and focus as joie d’ vive.

Last week I had a conversation with my BFF Jim. We met on the school bus when we were 14 (we’re both 61 now). He told me, in regard to something I was chewing on, and yes I was crying while I talked to him, “You just need to put your mind on it. And stick with it.”

So yeah. Feel your feels. Dig deep into what you’ve always wanted to do and don’t wait. When shifts come your way, re-evaluate your childhood claim to fame. Keep coming back to the work you are meant to do, but let it morph. Remember that quality of life is a mindset. Life is enhanced by discipline. Find inspiration in all kinds of people. Pay it forward. And like Jim often says, “Life is pretty simple. Look back and look forward and see if you are going where you want to go. And remember, water runs down hill and payday is Friday.”