A manifesto for middle-aged men
Grant Feller is happier now than he was a decade ago. Here’s why
Afew days ago, Will Smith and I celebrated the birthday that most men dread. Where I had 50 friends gathered in a rain-sodden corner of Cornwall for 48 hours, Smith was busy celebrating his half-century by bungee-jumping out of a helicopter over the Grand Canyon.
While they were very different types of events, the sentiment behind them was the same. We had got to an age that we wanted to mark in a significant way. In my case, this was because I genuinely feel better at 50 than I did at 40. I may be a little fatter, with a work life that is a bit more precarious – but, much to my surprise, the past decade has reshaped me for the better.
My 40th was the starting-gun to a prolonged period of darkness. I hesitate to claim the word depression, yet that is what it felt like – claustrophobic panic attacks, almost permanent stress and tortuous introspection that made me less of a father, husband, friend and boss. I began to view the world through the prism of a disconsolate, ragefuelled envy – the grass had to be greener. Through the combination of family, friends, a little professional help, I got through it. With the new me came a new philosophy, too, that enabled me to protect myself from the toxic vagaries of midlife mayhem.
That 40th birthday party left me with a feeling that growing old was not as much fun as I thought it would be. This time round, I know the milestone will not become a millstone because, I’ve finally learned that getting older can be good for you. Here’s why:
You can play the game with a smile on your face
Smile, enjoy the combat whether on the pitch or in the office but when you’re halfway through life, you know that everyone prefers the company of a good competitor to an entitled winner.
Life’s too short to play with old tennis balls
When I was an unpleasant person to be around, I threw a strop with my tennis friends because I was the only one who bought new balls. Why do we fritter away fortunes on four-wheeled painted chunks of metal but penny-pinch on more meaningful little things? At 50, I know to spend more on experiences rather than goods because memories can be bought. I spend a lot of time looking after my 92-year-old widowed father. He has gone from firstgeneration immigrant poverty to being a wealthy pensioner who is forever telling me the things he’d wished he’d done and seen, the money he wishes he’d spent.
There is time to reinvent
Sudden redundancy six years ago compelled me to reassess. It made me absorb new ways of working that enabled me to utilise my skills in entirely new ways. I listened instead of told, learned new things instead of repeating old ones. I’m still convinced my midlife success is an accident but the risk in getting there was worth it.
You know the dawn chorus is better for you than Newsnight
In the “dark days”, I set my alarm for 5.30am so I could get an early start and force myself to be exhausted at night so that I wouldn’t stay awake worrying. Being up for the dawn chorus inevitably means going to bed earlier. Much recommended.
You learn to listen to more disco and less Dylan
After my 40th, I wasn’t laughing as much. Mortgages, school fees, taxes and death – they all seemed to consume me. I vividly remember the turning point – I was up late grumbling along to a favourite Bob Dylan song, “It’s not dark yet but it’s getting there…” Misery-guts! Now, I dance to disco in the house, revel in nostalgia, behave foolishly with friends. The only misery I consume is from Scandi-noir box sets. Life is not dark. It’s light with shades of dark.
You can wear pyjamas more and shoes less
I have the luxury of often being able to work from home. On slow days, euphemistically known as “business development days”, I have been known to wander up to the supermarket in what might look like pyjamas to you, but are in fact my business development clothes, which also include flip-flops. OK, you might look like a tramp but, trust me, you’ll feel a lot younger than you did when you had to wear a suit every day.
You can do the things you said you never would
Like getting a dog. I loathed animals and refused countless pleas from my children for a pet. And then I gave in, instantly bursting the control-freak bubble that fortysomething men are so fond of. The status quo has been disrupted and new coping mechanisms have been sought.
You know how to turn anger into energy
I’m happier and nicer to be with at 50 than I was at 40. But I’m just as angry. Angry at myself for succumbing to weakness, angry that I’m not a terribly good carer for my father (though I am the only one), angry at the hypocrisy of incompetent politicians and vacuous celebrities. It provides an energy to push forwards. Be angry. Use it. Just don’t show it.