starting over Archives %- – Rock The Wrinkle

Have you been called upon to be a warrior?

Are you answering an inner urge to start over? To try a new scary path that no one else supports or understands?

To branch out on your own and seek new successes even in the face of huge odds?

If you’re a boomer and beyond, and you bravely decide to truly change your path, you’re going to encounter a lot of strange looks, shaking heads, and arguments about why it will never work. Yet if you truly know that your new path is where you have always wanted to walk, you must do it.

American Buddhist nun and teacher Pema Chodron touches on this in her book, “The Wisdom of No Escape.” She writes:

“When you really start to take the warrior’s journey—when you start to want to live your life fully, and you feel this passion for life and for growth, when discovery and exploration and curiosity become your path—then basically, if you follow your heart, you’re going to find that it’s often extremely inconvenient.

“Wholeheartedness is a precious gift but no one can give it to you. You have to find the path that has heart and then walk it impeccably. In doing that, you again and again encounter your own uptightness, your own headaches, your own falling flat on your face. But in wholeheartedly following that path, this inconvenience is not an obstacle. It’s simply a certain texture of life.

“Not only that, sometimes when you just get flying, and it all feels so good and you think, ‘This is it, this is the path that has heart,’ you suddenly fall flat on your face. Everybody’s looking at you. You say to yourself, ‘What happened to that path that had heart? This feels like the path full of mud in my face.’ Since you are wholeheartedly committed to the warrior’s journey, it pricks you, it pokes you. It’s like someone laughing in your ear, challenging you to figure out what to do when you don’t know what to do. It humbles you. It opens your heart.”

Now is the time. Listen to your spirit. The universe has quite a sense of humor—laugh with it.

Falling down a few times isn’t the worst thing that can happen to us.

Not trying is.

“Courage, above all things, is the first quality of a warrior.”

Carl von Clausewitz

You’re over 50. Or well past 60. You’ve decide to make a change. A big one. Take the new job. Retire. Move to the brand new address across the country or across the world. Marry someone who doesn’t quite fit your family’s heirloom locket. Or, (gasp) maybe you’re considering moving back to previous, less glamorous location after several years of living the dream.

And here it comes…

You’re too old.
You’re too young.
You don’t know anybody there.
You already have a good job.
You can’t do this by yourself.
What is something goes wrong?
Why would you want to start over?
Don’t you like it here?
Why would you want to live there?
How can you leave/ignore/betray your family?
How you leave/ignore/betray your friends?
Aren’t you scared?

How could you consider going back to where you started?
How could you give up what you have?
Don’t you love it here?
Don’t you love us?
Won’t you be going backwards?
Why can’t you make it work here?
Doesn’t it feel like you’ve failed?
Aren’t you scared?

It’s not that they don’t love you, they just don’t love that you are considering such a big change. Especially at your age.

The ironic part is 50+ is when you are best equipped to make a big change.

At least that was true for me. In my 20s and 30s, I was too busy trying to gain work experience and feel comfortable with everything life threw at me. I thought about making big changes a few times, but let fear and uncertainty stifle any real action. It wasn’t until I was able to cast off all the baggage of other people’s expectations that I could clearly hear what my soul was telling me.

And I’m so glad I listened. Because even though every major life change brings with it moments of anxiety, doubt, loneliness (and the occasional cheese dip binge), it also brings a great deal of peace. Leaving your comfort zone can be the best way to find out what—and who—really matters to you. When you put distance between you and the way things have always been, you can turn around and view it from a different perspective. It’s like standing in a museum and staring at an oversized canvas. The tiny, insignificant details fade away, the background blurs, and what is left is the core—the passion—of the painting.

Before, you saw the faces, you heard all the noise…. Now what is left? What images still touch your heart? Who do you genuinely miss and want to keep close forever? What truly matters in your life? I think it’s the good stuff—the stuff you have with you always, and can always return to.

In fact,I also think we must stay open to what comes after the big risk and the wonderful self-discovery. Sometimes, we come to a point where we start to realize we have made the dream come true. We did accomplish many things, have wonderful new friends, and gave ourselves a magnificent gift. And now that we done it, we might find ourselves longing to simplify our lives even more. And that could mean going back to where we started.

You will learn a lot when you start any new adventure. Here’s what taking a big risk taught me:

How anything is possible.
How lonely it can be.
How fantastic it can be.
Which friendships are real.
Which people live in my heart.
The wonder of email and texting.
Dogs don’t like change.
Learning new things requires forgetting some old stuff.
No matter how good you feel about things, you’re still going to occasionally wake up at 3 a.m. and wonder what the hell you are doing there.
There’s not always going to be a sign to point you in the right direction.
You can mow grass while it is snowing.
You can come home again. And again.
God is always there. He’s just quiet sometimes.

Changing your life, starting over, whatever words you use—it is not without its challenges.. But I believe the universe is standing by waiting to kick in a lot of power once you commit. The road may not be easy. But look where it can lead.