Over 30 Need Not Apply

Ko-Ko.
Are you old enough to marry, do you think?
Won't you wait till you are eighty in the shade?
There's a fascination frantic
In a ruin that's romantic;
Do you think you are sufficiently decayed?
Katisha.
To the matter that you mention
I have given some attention,
And I think I am sufficiently decayed.

Ever since I was exposed to the operettas of Gilbert and Sullivan back in junior high school (that was before middle schools were invented), I've had an enduring love for The Mikado: the music, the dialog, and especially the unforgettably silly characters. I was privileged to see a performance of The Mikado by the D'Oyle Carte Opera Comapny in their home theater in London (before its demise in 1982 after over a century of Gilbert and Sullivan performances). The tragi-comic figure of Katisha (the character who put the 'old' in 'old maid'), in this passage being wooed by Ko-Ko (the Lord High Executioner who faces a choice of marriage to Katisha or death), serves as a stark contrast to the young, star-crossed lovers: the beautiful Yum-Yum (betrothed to Ko-Ko) and the handsome minstrel, Nanki-Poo (the emperor's son in disguise, condemned to death for flirting). It all gets very complicated. Today, it's so much simpler with online dating: "ISO ['in search of'] 18-29". Over 30 need not apply. Who knew that the sloga
"Don't trust anyone over 30" would shape the world of online dating decades later?

We console ourselves with clever sayings like, "40 is the new 30" or "50 is the new 40" (and so on up the scale). In fact, I'm convinced that we've progressed far enough for me to claim that 60 is the new 40, and I'm willing to fight anyone who disagrees. On the other hand, just as in Katasha's day, mirrors still exist and, as then, so now, they still don't lie. Sad to say, neither do scales, although happily nobody insists that we actually own one of those. The proper response for someone of my age to the comment, "You look like you've lost weight" (often heard very soon after I've had a haircut) is an enthusiastic, "Thank you SO MUCH!"

For most men, the mirror becomes the first harbinger of the onset of middle age, even before there's any noticeable decrease in physical ability or stamina. Those ubiquitous mirrors tell the story of either loss, or gain (or both): loss of hair and gain of girth. Those wonderful hormones that wreaked such havoc (and produced such wonders) in our teenage years by our mid 30's have begun to turn on us, although we may continue the staunch denial well into our 40's. Still, those mirrors aren't running for political office, and have no need to tell us what we want to hear.

I'm definitely someone on the far end of middle age, and I must admit that I've slacked off the care I used to take of myself in recent years (and it shows — at least to me). Yet, I'm really taken aback by how old — no, that's not the right word . . . how decrepit — some guys let themselves become. What I wonder as I see so many overweight balding men walking around is, 'Is this a good thing or a bad thing?' Does it mean that these guys have successfully made the midlife transition from an exte
al fixation to an internal concentration in their lives, or does it mean that, faced with the concrete evidence of aging, these guys have just given up, surrendered, and settled for a kind of fatalistic waiting game? Are they waiting until they find someone or something that will rekindle their sense of self-pride? If so, they've unthinkingly set themselves on a collision course with a midlife crisis.

You can't avoid a midlife crisis either by ignoring the physical signs of aging in hopes that someone will come along and rescue your self-esteem in spite of your deteriorating condition ("Do you think you are sufficiently decayed?"), or by running after every new diet, fitness program, lotion and potion promising to reverse the devastation of the aging process. Like everything that you're going to encounter in the process of the midlife transition, the change has to begin inside. You need neither to surrender to the aging process nor ignore it. The transformation that needs to take place at midlife occurs within you: a transition that takes you from a 'human doing' (where your self-esteem is dependent on what you do) to a human being where your identity flows from the person you are. Your physical beauty actually depends totally upon the beauty you hold within you. If you truly value yourself, your exte
al appearance will show it unmistakably.

This inner transformation is, in its essence, a spiritual journey: a voyage of discovery deep into the person who you were always meant to become. Whenever you meet someone who has transitioned from adulthood into midlife, and who has found a way to embrace a spiritual vision in a practical form, you'll see something really amazing: they'll have a genuinely ageless quality about them. You'll find yourself unable to pinpoint their age just by looking at them. How old, would you say, is the Dalai Lama? Surely he's no twenty-something; but he's not that old, either. Or is he? "But, I'm not the Dalai Lama," you may be thinking. And, why exactly not? What makes him any better or more important than you? He and you have exactly the same opportunity to live your destiny, only he has chosen with his whole heart to do so. Now, what about you?