Turning 40 didn't seem like a big deal to me. Things continued pretty much as they had. Turning 50, on the other hand, has been surprisingly rough. I figure I've earned myself a mid-life crisis. But what to do about it?
To properly celebrate a mid-life crisis one must attempt to recapture one's youth. Some men buy fancy sports cars, but I've never cared that much for cars other than as transportation. Learn to fly? Did that almost 20 years ago. Trade the wife in on a younger model? I'm not married.
No, I've decided to return to something I enjoyed at half my present age: ballet.
Twenty five years ago I danced ballet. Performances were never part of the plan, but I enjoyed the exercise and discipline of weekly classes. Clearing my mind of everything else and focusing on the placement of a foot, the turn of a leg, port de bras. Flying through a crisply-executed Fouetté. These things I've missed.
I'm older now. I've spent decades sitting behind a desk. I need bifocals. My hair has gray in it. These things I cannot change. But you're never too old to dance, if you're willing to work at it. And it's my mid-life crisis, damn it!