I don't spend a lot of time on the Threads social media platform, but recently I found myself there. I came across a post from a fellow Gen Xer lamenting how difficult it is to be in your mid- to late 50s.
At this age, the person wrote, you're sometimes caring for elderly parents AND your older children AND even grandchildren.
You're often slogging toward retirement with insufficient savings and no desire to play the corporate politics necessary to get ahead...all while reporting to a boss 20 years younger.
And you're starting to experience the feeling that the world might be passing you by, both culturally and technologically.
Those are all valid points, and I see them up close and personal in many of my peers.
Which is why I'm somewhat embarrassed to tell you that, so far, my 50s have been the greatest decade of my life.
I feel wonderful, I have lots of energy, I've learned some things, I get to do engaging work every day, and I'm blessed to have hobbies I enjoy. I have an amazing wife of 34 years, five great kids, and the best little grandson anyone could ask for.
I also have a relatively short runway ahead of what is shaping up to be a fairly comfortable retirement.
And while the reason for it is sad, I don't have any older parents or in-laws to care for simply because they have all passed on. I miss them terribly and often wish I had that sort of "burden" in my life.
By any definition, though, mine is a blessed existence. I couldn't relate to that post on Threads.
But here's the thing: All of it can change in a second.
One grim medical diagnosis. One corporate restructuring. One stock market crash. One disastrous car accident.
Any one of those things (and any of a thousand other imagined calamities) would immediately transform my sunny situation to one of worry and despair.
I am acutely aware of this. I know how close I am to being in very different circumstances. "There but for the grace of God" is a thought that runs through my head multiple times a day.
You never know what life is going to throw at you. I'm not owed anything. I've done nothing to deserve the good things I have, any one of which could go away tomorrow.
(This is not meant to be pessimistic, by the way. Just realistic.)
Many of us in this part of the world live in an artificially comfortable bubble. We are seemingly immune to war, famine and persecution. We have access to advanced medical care. Our social safety nets are deep and wide.
This is especially true if you're of my particular demographic. Socioeconomically speaking, the system is constructed so that people like me will probably succeed.
Somewhere along the line, though, things will get harder. It's inevitable.
In the meantime, all I can think to do is live a life of cliches:
I take it one day at a time.
I help others when I can.
I frequently take stock of everything I have, and I thank God for it all.
Someday, when the rain falls a little harder (maybe sooner than I realize), I hope I continue thanking Him. I hope I will be humble, grateful, and happy. I hope I will appreciate the valleys after spending so many years on the peaks.
I don't know what lies ahead, but I do know how good I have it right now. And for the moment, I hope that's enough.
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