LIFE
The Third Act
How will you prepare yourself for the last three decades of your life?
I recently met up with a friend who said to me, “Natasha, you’re different.” “How so?” I asked in reply. “You’ve mellowed. It takes a little getting used to.” My friend continued to describe how it was not an insult, but an observation. One that made her question her own “aging process”.
“You make us sound like cheese,” I teased her. “Perhaps wine is more fitting.” It’s been a while since we opened a bottle.
In five weeks, I will be 47. I never thought I would live this long. There was a time, I didn’t want to.
According to Jane Fonda in one of her eloquent lectures I enjoy watching on YouTube, the last three decades of our life — fifty onwards — is described as The Third Act. And while a traditional drama may have five, life it seems is less generous.
In a drama, there is the exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and denouement. Life, with just three, presents a different approach.
It is said that the third act is not the age of our decline, but the age of our potential. Used wisely, aging ought to be seen as the ascension of the human spirit. Having lived for 50 years, one ought to have achieved a powerful sense of well-being.
Of course, experts say a third of that is genetic combined with luck. It also means that two-thirds rest upon our own doing. This is where reflection on our first two acts greatly influences the state of well-being, longevity and happiness of our third. I guess this is what Picasso meant when he said, “It takes a long time to become young.”
Today, I read into aging as stepping into the age of wisdom, wholeness and authenticity. I wake up to good thoughts and I go to bed with good thoughts. It was never the case when I was younger.
The circumstances of my family forced me to become an adult at a very young age. I was forced into responsibilities and denied opportunities that led me to my years of anger and depression. I got married thinking it was an escape to a different life only to discover the hard way, that until our childhood traumas are resolved, we remain in a hamster wheel of repeated mistakes.
I knew, however, that life was more than a curve. It offered more than just a beginning, a peak, and a decline.
Having fought my battles and sought the needed help, it was only when I experienced the following that I could feel the ascension of my human spirit. I no longer struggled to wake up and I found beauty in the simple things we may easily overlook. In fact, it is a joy for me to wake up. Every morning, without fail.
The first cup of coffee Nothing beats the walk to the kitchen barefoot, and walking back to your room holding that hot mug of coffee in your hands. Second to the smell of your lover on the side of his neck, the aroma of Arabica beans hitting the olfactory is to me as precious as walking into a boulangerie and the smell of yeast tells you the bake is legit.
When your former life was rushing out the door to catch your morning train on an empty stomach, walking at your own pace to the kitchen without having to look at the clock is a luxury I doubt even billionaires can afford.
Reading about them in my subscribed Forbes magazines, every minute of their life is crunch time. I didn’t have to look far into the features, a former boss used Toggle to time everyone to ensure every minute was productive, and this included conversations. If a conversation outlasts the 20 minutes he allocated, a cog is missing in the machinery. I also once dated a successful entrepreneur to tell you that love and time often do not go hand-in-hand. To make matters worse, he hated coffee, especially the smell of it in the morning. Nothing wrong, but a delicate symmetry of rhythm was off.
The taste of papaya and lime on any given day Growing up in Asia, there are fruits and vegetables I take for granted and only when I’m in the colder parts of Europe I realize how precious they are. Pineapples and papayas are among them.
In Ayurveda, the last meal of the day ought to be these fruits for easy digestion. Add a twist of lime and sprinkle a bit of pink Himalayan salt, and you’re walking into a sunset paradise. Throughout the day, glasses of water with lime, calamansi or lemon will improve your metabolism. Ginger and Ashwagandha teas prevent bloating, improve circulation and are the perfect remedy for an over-active mind. The value of these are weighed in gold where nutrition is concerned. Never take for granted nature’s medicine for a long and healthy life.
Easy walk to forgiveness I felt fruition and growth when I was able to not only forgive easily, but to engage with those who once were considered unforgivable.
Being able to look at my former husband, old circle of friends and relatives who were complicit to our pain with betrayal, and still be on good terms with them, was a long road to exoneration.
To sit at the same table, to laugh with no malice, and to hug with no ill-will are not for the faint of heart. An unsteady bridge to cross and a heavy cross to bear, it was when I was able to look at them all with renewed affection and gratitude that I felt lighter on my feet, less weary in my chest, and a stronger spirit renewed to rebuild my future.
What I thought was once taken from me from beneath my feet, was now a new endeavor I was willing to remodel, redesign and rebuild. As I layer the bricks and slather them with fresh cement, I am able to see beauty in the new blueprint I have, and tell myself, I can do this.
To remain in this strength, I read and remind myself of all the Davids that fought bigger Goliaths.
I recall a story of Neil Selinger, a successful lawyer in securities litigation cases in New York. This includes representing several municipal pension funds in the case against WorldComm, the telecommunications company that reported some $11 billion in false profits.
In 2007, Selinger retired after 30 years practicing law to focus on writing and philanthropy. A few years in, he was diagnosed with the crippling and unforgiving disease called Lou Gehrig’s. Confined to a wheelchair in his home, Selinger channeled his new reality into essays.
As the disease wasted his body, his mind remained alert, a cruel binary to most but for Selinger was a hat tip to Life. He wrote a powerful testament:
“As my muscles weakened, my writing became stronger. As I slowly lost my speech, I gained my voice. As I diminished, I grew. As I lost so much, I finally started to find myself.”
Knowing your faults had nothing to with you Growing up defeating the battles of society, tasting repeated failures and social expectations, we can feel unsatisfied and unfinished.
To go forward successfully with the emotional maturity needed to be wiser, happy and with authenticity, it meant I had to re-assess and grapple my past in order to embrace my future.
As I walked through reflection upon reflection, I learned to look at friends and families as individuals with flaws and compassion. I allowed myself to see them with a fresh pair of eyes and to accept the truths of humanity.
This included the struggles they are facing in the loneliness of their rooms and corridors of their own undecided future. I realized how far I have come in comparison, when others failed to progress from the day we said goodbye.
It was here I realized that the pinnacle of forgiveness was in accepting the fact that the faults of my younger days had — to a certain extend — nothing to do with me.
From here, I learned to swallow my pride and allowed myself to seek help, love and affection. Leaving corporate meant I no longer had to constantly look over my shoulder, to protect myself, and to work three times harder than my male counterparts to be heard.
Nearing the doors of my third act, I’ve learned to put my armor and weapons down, knock down the retaining Roman walls, and allow myself to be the feminine energy I was born to be.
I softened, I cuddled and more importantly, I allowed to be reciprocated.
Viktor Frankl wrote it best about redemption and survival in the eyes of struggle and acceptance:
“Everything you have in Life can be taken from you except one thing, your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation. This is what determines the quality of the life we’ve lived. Not whether we’ve been rich or poor, famous or unknown, healthy or suffering. What determines our quality of life is how we relate to these realities.”
And with that, I welcome with open arms, my impending third act. I hope you embrace yours.
I dedicate this piece to Dr John Frederick Rose who not only reminds me of my late grandparents, but told me once I was resilient and splendid like an orchid, a compliment I wear with honor and much gratitude. Thank you John for sharing your garden of vanilla beans and snapdragons, both metaphors to me of the simple beauty in your own third act. To more wonderful, healthy and inspiring years ahead, sir.
