Summary

The author reflects on turning 45, realizing the futility of past regrets and the importance of understanding the mind's survival-driven nature to foster self-improvement and appreciation for life's accomplishments.

Abstract

Upon reaching 45, the author confronts a lifetime of self-criticism, characterized by a focus on what could have been done better. This introspection reveals a pattern of regret and self-recrimination at each previous decade's milestone. However, with age comes a clearer perspective, one that initially induces disgust but eventually leads to an epiphany about the mind's true intent. The author learns that the mind, driven by a desire to survive and thrive, often dwells on past mistakes as a means to improve future performance, rather than to inflict self-harm. This realization transforms the author's view of past failures into opportunities for growth. With this new understanding, the author finds a more balanced perspective, acknowledging both areas for improvement and achievements, embracing self-compassion and trust in one's journey.

Opinions

The author expresses a history of self-criticism, particularly at each decade's end, focusing on unmet expectations and missed opportunities.
There is a sense of frustration and self-disgust with past regrets, which initially paints a bleak picture of one's life achievements.
The author identifies a key lesson learned with age: the mind's intention is to promote survival and improvement, not to cause distress.
The mind's tendency to analyze past actions and highlight errors is seen as a misfired survival instinct rather than malicious intent.
The author advocates for a shift from viewing past mistakes as failures to seeing them as constructive feedback for personal development.
Acknowledging past regrets is deemed natural but ultimately unproductive unless it leads to positive change and self-improvement.
The author emphasizes the importance of recognizing one's accomplishments alongside areas for growth, fostering a more compassionate and trusting relationship with oneself.
The reflection concludes with an acceptance of the mind's imperfect process of self-evaluation and an appreciation for the life lived, including both successes and lessons learned.

Reflections on Turning 45

Just the one key thing I learned.

At 20, I was looking back and thinking of everything I could have done better.

At 30, I’d rake my twenty-year-old self over the coals for not being further along in my life and career.

At 40, I wished that the 30-year-old hadn’t been so lazy. I should have written more. I should have published a book. I should be making more money. I should have, should have, should have.

And now at 45, I look back and see a life of shoulds.

And I’m disgusted by it.

We all wish we could punch our past selves in the face

What a way to start your forty-fifth birthday. Crack awake at the break of dawn and realize this.

I was expecting a different awakening, like 45-life-lessons that 45 years of living has taught me; 6 key things to know when turning 45; and so on.

But no.

The beautiful cruelty of aging is that it gives you a sharp perspective that you can slice yourself in half with.

And I get it, we all do it. We all wish we could hop in that Delorean and travel back to the past and punch ourselves in the face. It’s natural.

But laid out on the cold page like this, and now I’m forty-five and halfway to the end, it’s pretty hard to swallow.

Pretty hard to rise up and face the day, let alone the rest of my life.

Look forward, not backward.

Look back like this and you cast your entire existence into the fires of failure.

It’s all regretful, bitter inaction too. And by that, I mean no positive change will come from these dark reflective imaginings. What’s past is past and the future is the only thing that can be changed.

And I know this. And I know that you know this. Yet year after year, decade after decade, I look back into my past with regretful, cursive eyes and hate myself.

In my years, I’ve learned one key thing

Your mind is built to survive, that’s what I’ve learned.

It doesn’t hate you. It wants you to live through the slings and arrows of the day. It wants you to infinitely thrive.

But sometimes it misfires. Sometimes that drive to survive goes too far.

It’s like this, every situation you live through teaches you something. And your mind knows that. So, like a game coach, it deconstructs your gameplay. Lets you know what didn’t work so you can improve on it for next time.

But often it goes too far and that’s all it focuses on: the bits you did wrong. So all you see is errors. Your life of errors.

And that’s me this morning, my mind going through my past performance and breaking down the mistakes and seeing nothing but failure. A life of failure.

I am not my enemy. I am my friend.

And here’s the part I wish my younger self understood: your mind is trying to help you. It’s giving you a hard time because it wants you to be better.

Do you see the difference here, that my younger self misunderstood? It’s subtle, but oh so huge.

Young me looks back and sees failure. But older me looks back and sees what can be improved upon.

These dark thoughts are not just cruel, self flagellations. They are important things to reflect on to better yourself.

And that’s all. It’s coaching advice, and nothing more.

Trust yourself

And now that I understand my mind’s motivations, which is to help and not hurt me, I can breathe again.

Dawn slants through the window and the day suddenly looks beautiful. And now that I’ve sifted through the areas where I could improve, I ask my mind to list the things I did well.

And there are a lot of them.

Wife. Kids. Family. Professional publication. Home owning. No debt. Winning jobs. Learning skills. Laughing. Loving. Building things better. And surviving.

Course, that negative-self reflection could come at a better time, like not at the crack of dawn. And it could come more constructively and clearly on what exactly I need to do to improve. And it could come more self-carringly. And on and on it could come.

But life, and the mind, just doesn’t work like that.

You just have to trust that you are where you need to be and that what you think about yourself, good or bad, is all that needs to be.