đŸ—ș Lost in the Midlife Wilderness? Draw Your Own Damn Map. đŸ—ș


​

Guten Tag, Reader,

How often do you wake up feeling overwhelmed with having to get through another day?

Are you simultaneously calling yourself an ungrateful bitch (or worse) for not waking up happy with all the milestones you have achieved and material things you have gathered?

You are not alone, my friend. Unfortunately, if you are a woman in midlife, it is not unlikely you feel that way*.

From my conversations with clients and friends, I have come to believe this lingering discontentment, this lack of enthusiasm for our journey, is a symptom of being lost in the midlife wilderness without a map.

Sure, the patriarchy has drawn one for us until now: school, marriage, children, career, caretaking. There were paths and rituals around some waypoints: graduations, weddings, baby showers.

But now the map leads... where? Waiting to take care of the grandkids?

Plus, we aren’t who we used to be. And it’s not just our boobs, bellies, and buts that have changed:

  • Our values, interests, and opinions have probably shifted, too.
  • Those goals we may have chased with fervor may now seem blurry (ask the half-written novel on my shelf).
  • And as the impermanence of life becomes more real with each sickness and death around us, simply carrying on feels less and less motivating.
Wholly unprepared [we] embark upon the second half of life... But we cannot live the afternoon of life according to the program of life’s morning: for what was great in the morning will be little at the evening, and what in the morning was true will at evening have become a lie.
​
–Carl Jung

Well, it’s up to us to draw our own maps, then.

We need to figure out where WE want to go (if anywhere) and what our waypoints are.

How? Here are some suggestions:

  1. Stop asking people for directions to places they have never been (including me or any self-improvement gurus on Instagram). I am borrowing this sentiment from Glennon Doyle’s book Untamed. It is a philosophy underneath all of my coaching work: I will never tell you what to do or where to go. My only role as a midlife wilderness guide is to help you figure out where you are going and to help you trust that you have always known how to get there.
  2. Follow your body compass. This is the simplest and the best tool I have picked up along my journey. Learning how to read it took me a while, but now I can feel my true North. To calibrate yours, start by asking, “Does this option feel freeing or limiting,” and pay attention to what’s happening in your body. Look for discomfort and tension in your body, but also notice changes in your breath, maybe a twitch, or even odd things like sweaty feet. Before you use it on big-impact decisions like getting a divorce or quitting your job, try it with small-impact ones, like “Does watching this show feel enjoyable? Or is it a waste of energy?”
  3. Take the smallest possible steps. Whether you have already figured out where you are going or not quite yet, start moving. My teacher, Martha Beck, says, “The smaller the steps we take, the more likely we are to achieve our goals.” I believe that includes the goals we haven’t set and the destinations we haven’t chosen. If we keep sitting in the abyss, waiting for light and clarity, we might never get out. So start moving, using your body compass. Curious about something? Find out more. Jealous of someone? What do you want that they have? Start moving towards it. Sick and tired of something? Turn around and move in a different direction. What’s the smallest step you can take (and maybe it’s just reading one page in a book you’ve wanted to read)? Take it.
  4. Don’t be afraid of the U-turn. I am a big proponent of quitting things, of changing direction, and of saying “f*ck it.” I often find the quitters more admirable, courageous, and interesting than the ones muttering, “I can’t quit. I must push through. I will finish, and if it’s the last thing I do.” Remember when Hannah quit Survivor 45 on day three simply because she felt miserable? I wanted to give her the million dollars immediately. I mean, don’t quit just because it’s hard. But do when you realize you’re in the wrong game or on somebody else’s path. How do you know the difference? Body Compass.

Sounds terrific but terrifying?

You don’t need to do it alone. Let me be your midlife wilderness guide and join the summer expedition. You’ll make great friends, learn new things about your Self, and leave with a map leading you towards your next hell-yes in life.

​Travel details and registration are here, but if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to respond to this email. I am always happy to chat about this project, which is my North Star.


Another opportunity to get closer to who you are and what you want is the Salmon River Slowdown. Angie and I have one spot left (of only ten) on this actual wilderness expedition in Idaho, August 26-31. The details are here.​


And if you just need a moment of quiet reflection, why not join me for a solstice nature therapy event? It will be remote on June 20th and in Missoula on the 22nd.


I will see you back here in two weeks. If you liked this letter, please forward it to a friend.

Always on your side, truly,

*Studies have shown that women aged 40 to 59 have the highest rate of depression of any age or gender in the U.S. I am a coach, not a therapist. If you suffer from depression or think you might, please seek help from a licensed counselor or therapist.

p.s. If you got something from today's letter, why not buy me a coffee? In real life, or you can leave me a tip here.

Welcome to my Joy Letters

I am a recovering perfectionist, productivity chaser, and people pleaser, coaching women to disrupt old thought patterns, let go of behaviors that keep them stuck, and make their joy an everyday priority.

Read more from Welcome to my Joy Letters
clouds above my backyard in Missoula, MT

Guten Tag, Reader, “I did not know clouds could do that,” I thought, lying on my back, staring at the surprisingly warm May morning as it dramatically unfolded across the sky. Clouds in a higher layer, shaped like a Hogwarts staircase, moved one way, while their relatives in a lower layer, shaped like a bowl of apples, moved another. Had I stuck with studying physics, I might have been able to name and explain this phenomenon. Luckily, I didn’t, so I could fully experience it instead. These...

a brickwall with wine leaves making shadow art

Guten Tag, Reader, You know the sound of a bird banging against a window. Maybe you’ve even had to help out (or bury) a bird who mistook glass for air. Mostly a benign magic—invisible walls—yet dangerous for the uninitiated. When my friends and I heard the sound yesterday, we were outside while the bird was inside the house. Such a human concept, inside/outside. I am currently at a friend‘s farmhouse in Northeastern Germany, the Wendland. She lives alone in a 170-year-old farmhouse. The old...

rock creek moss

Guten Tag, Reader, One of us walks like a cartoon thief—knee high, toe first, then heel. Of course, he might also practice a Qi Gong movement. Called The Heron, perhaps? Another walks with a sway while swinging a flappy spruce branch. “I watched my nephew do this last week,” she will share later, “and he looked so connected with his body that I wanted to try.” Me? I walk as slowly as my brain will allow. Stopping to pull a fresh leaf to my cheek, smell each wild onion in a patch, and caress...