My second son, Robert, started high school recently at Cranbrook-Kingswood, a college preparatory school that opened in 1922 whose 319-acre campus is a national historic landmark. We live a mile from school, and it has long been my destination for biking, running, and meditative nature walks with my children. Its architecture and physical beauty are almost surreal, leading me to wonder whether mere mortals inhabit the place.
When I was twelve I asked my parents if I could go there. I recall learning about it from camp friends and somehow just knowing it was for me, kind of the way Robert felt after he spent a day shadowing another student there in eighth grade. The story of where I ended up in middle and high school, and why, is too annoying to recount, but suffice it to say that I never got over my love affair with Cranbrook, and reflect to this day with regret on what might have been. When I drop Rob off on campus or hear about what he learned that day, the joy that I feel for him, because he understands how magical a place it is, is tinged ever so slightly with sadness.
It’s an obvious cliché that everyone has regrets. Not always from lack of gratitude or unhappiness, but perhaps just irresistible wonder at all of the possibilities that might have been. Where would we be today? Doing what? With whom? What would it have felt like? What intriguing thoughts, which, according to some, should not themselves be regretted. Henry David Thoreau advised: “Make the most of your regrets; never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it till it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh.”
Perhaps not if you’re Woody Allen, though, whom most of us probably channel more so than wise Thoreau in feeling that, “My one regret in life is that I am not someone else.” Much of what we do involves a struggle to be other than who we are, and it comes to a head during midlife and its proverbial “crisis.” I recently read this truly weird little book on the subject called The Middle Passage which was sent to me by a thoughtful friend.
The author, a Jungian analyst named James Hollis, frames midlife as a transition from living according to (what we perceive as) others’ expectations to living in harmony with our own. During childhood we conform to our interpretation of our parents’ behaviors and attitudes, and starting in adolescence we mold ourselves according to our perception of our peers’ and society’s demands. The rift between our true nature and reactive one becomes increasingly untenable as we reach midlife and, as Hollis puts it, our “capacity for self-deception is exhausted.” First, most of our youthful dreams and delusions crash down to earth: “To flounder amid ordinariness is the sour leaven of midlife.” Men go out and buy the red race car and the trophy wife. Women suddenly feel what psychologist Marcia Reynolds calls “the burden of greatness.” They were always told of their endless potential, and now they look around and wonder why it wasn’t achieved and what they can do to fix that.
Next, our desires amp up just as our body starts refusing to cooperate. As Hollis notes, this was expressed most poetically by W.B. Yeats in Sailing to Byzantium, which reflects on the harsh conflict we endure in midlife between our still-nascent dreams and our failing bodies:
That phrase, “fastened to a dying animal,” haunts me as the small pains and indignities of aging slowly creep into my awareness. Hollis fortunately finds a way to put all of this in a positive light, observing that increasing awareness of “the fact that one is mortal, that time is limited, and that no one will deliver us from the burden of responsibility for our lives, serves as a powerful incentive to be more fully oneself.” Midlife offers us each the opportunity to come out in the fullest sense of the term. It requires courage and much effort, but the rewards are rich.
I’ve been searching the annals of western philosophy for insights on the nature of the middle passage and how to reflect clearly upon it. So far I’ve found interesting thinking by the ancient Stoics but not much else. Soon I hope to share their insights on the topic, as I can hardly suppose I am alone in feeling its weight.
Joan Fand says
March 19, 2018 at 1:20 pmThank you Kelly. Very insightful. I can immediately relate as you and I went to the same school…and I wanted to go to Country Day and play sports! Did not materialize. I used to be an announcer at the planetarium at Cranbrook and the place has pleasant memories for me.
I recently acquired a 1750s working farm on cape cod where we raise bees. I’m capturing those forgotten dreams before the body says no. http://Www.lewisbaybeecompany.com
Lastly I’m a fan of Ryan Holliday and his reintroduction of the stoics for modern life.
Thank you again. I always thought you were a truly fabulous individual fyi. Love, Joan
Kelly Rogers Victor says
March 19, 2018 at 5:23 pmThank you, Joan. I miss you! I’m very happy for you—will look at the farm website. Ryan Holiday is one of my favorites, too. I’ve loved the Stoic outlook since college and recently reread some Cicero for fun. It’s interesting how different my understanding of them is now that I’m north of 50. Please keep in touch and send love to Jeremy.
Diane orley says
March 19, 2018 at 1:24 pmLovely words. I tell my kids to this day that we gave them a gift by sending them to cranbrook. They had a wonderful and fulfilling education and will hold ck as a special place forever.
Hope you and your family are well
Kathy Klein Bresler says
March 19, 2018 at 1:26 pmOne of my favorite books about The Middle Passage is called “Becoming Real” by Rose Kumar, MD. She’s not a stoic philosopher, but her characterization of midlife as a “gateway in which we choose between authenticity and familiarity” really resonates. Below is the passage I was reminded of in reading your poignant reflections.
“There is a belief in indigenous mythology that we carry our “double” within our souls. Our “double” is the part of us that forms our “real self,” and calls to us to embody it. She does not become tainted by our wounding and provides us with the resilience and strength needed for our healing. She embodies our wholeness. She carries the “codes” for our higher destinies. When we are wounded and sometimes disconnect from our real selves, we may miss Her call and may fail to manifest our higher destinies. The call from our “double” is the loudest during midlife. This is the time when the veil between our unconscious and conscious selves is most porous. When our hormones part and the transition to the second half of life beckons, our souls move closer to us than any other time in our lives. Some of us have not been able to access our truth before this gateway, as we mistakenly identified our wounded selves for our real selves. We are called from within as a reminder that there is more to life than how we have been living. Our “double” carries within Her our deeper and more meaningful life.
Our “double” is always trying to carry us towards our highest destiny. Life often presents us with choices to upgrade or downgrade our course. Midlife is an important gateway where we need to choose between authenticity and familiarity. It takes courage to choose authenticity. When we listen to the call of our “double” and make the choice to connect with our authenticity, we can embody our real selves during the second half of our lives and live from our higher destinies.
Kelly Rogers Victor says
March 21, 2018 at 6:27 amLove this, Kathy. I’ve heard of Kumar but now will have to read her book. I think it seems to many much easier, at least at first, to numb yourself in midlife rather than address the issue of authenticity head on. It’s not fun to uncork decades of repression. That said, who wants to reach the end of their life with the sickening feeling that they never really lived as who they were? I’m trying to see midlife as a gift in that sense. My own mother says her 50s were the best decade of all—precisely for these reasons. Time to start really living.
Elyse Foltyn says
March 19, 2018 at 3:13 pmGreat to hear from you again!
Betsy Korn says
March 19, 2018 at 3:29 pmLoved “Regret and the Middle Passage”. Very insightful and relevant! Can’t wait to hear more on this subject!
Kelly Rogers Victor says
March 19, 2018 at 5:24 pmThank you!!
Rob Safian says
March 19, 2018 at 4:04 pmWow, that was incredibly spiritual and insightful. Sounds to me like Robert (and your other kids) and David are lucky to have you in their lives. Your comments made me think of two simpler adages: “Life is wasted on the young” and “Be grateful for what you have”. The first is similar to the “Middle Passage”; part of this is related to the selflessness that parents feel for their children and the delayed gratification that is required to help children achieve their goals. As role models for our children, these characteristics are not necessarily 100% positive, since my family feels that I work too hard and don’t spend enough time enjoying life. The second adage is undoubtedly true, and too many of us think about material things (or going to the “best” school, whatever that means). As a physician I see too much suffering, so I rarely think about being like someone else or acquiring more stuff (another adage “Be careful what you wish for”; some things have unintended consequences). For me, it’s about meaning (read Victor Frankls’ Man’s Search for Meaning; finding what’s important to you and help others less fortunate), balance in life (still working on this one), with a tinge of the Cranbrook motto, “Aim High”.
Kelly Rogers Victor says
March 21, 2018 at 6:20 amThank you for that thought-provoking and heartfelt reply.
michelle says
March 19, 2018 at 5:55 pmAs always, brilliant commentary on life as we approach or are currently living in The Middle Passage. As one who took a huge leap of faith to live out “the burden of greatness” I am happy to hear I am not alone in my feelings.
Betsy says
March 19, 2018 at 10:16 pmTiming is everything.
This arrives two months before my 65th birthday. While I ponder your words regarding the middle passage, I am drawn to the next passage that is imminent. The reckoning of youth and mid-life are certainly in my rear-view mirror. And yet so much of my life seems like the recent past….but it is decades.
An acceptance of who I am is both a burden and a gift.
As always, your words bring new ideas and thoughts. Thank you.
Julie Edgar says
March 19, 2018 at 10:19 pmFascinating post, Kelly. Keep writing on the subject of midlife and the potential it offers to become more present and more fully ourselves.
David H. Gutow says
March 20, 2018 at 12:31 amVery insightful Kelly, now could you repeat this in English! No just kidding, I have only read a few of your Kale e-mails so add me to the list! And Happy Birthday now yesterday! This reminds me so much of Lisa’s experience at Cranbrook. Liam was just accepted for kindergarden at a school named Pegasus in Huntington Beach, CA, It’s quite a long drive but they feel strongly that he should go there. It’s hard to get in so they are excited that he was accepted. Time will tell!
Liz Modell says
March 22, 2018 at 11:12 pmBeautifully written. Thank you.
Nicole Eisenberg says
March 25, 2018 at 4:36 pmThis was amazing, Kelly! I feel exactly the same way right now. And more…:)! I miss your writing, hope to hear another one soon!
Xx