Midlife: Filling the space left behind

For the past 15 years or so, ever since my kids started school and sports, this time of year was crazy. My memories of early June are baking cupcakes for end-of-year parties, volunteering for field trips, and attending banquets and graduations, all while trying to keep everyone fed and clothed.

On the first official day of summer break, I would take a quick half-breath before the busyness of camps and vacations and playdates began.

This year I’ve taken up bird-watching.

So there you go, in a nutshell, how change happens. Sometimes it’s subtle … taking place little by little over the course of months or years; you don’t even notice it. Like the wrinkles under my eyes from all the years of never being able to find my sunglasses. And sometimes it’s abrupt. Like when you wake up a pregnant woman and go to bed a new mom.

This change feels sudden, even though it’s been percolating for several years.

Overnight I suddenly became one of those “older women” who were always on the periphery of my life, doing the things that older women do — lunching with friends, playing bridge, or going on guided hikes with binoculars around their neck.

A New Hobby

I don’t have both feet in the ring yet, but I just took a giant leap toward the golden years this past weekend when a friend introduced me to a new bird ID app.

To drive home the significance of this, you should know that I am not a science-minded person. Up until this moment I have had zero interest in any of the “ology” fields. I am way too impatient.

Or was.

Because I could not be more excited about this ornithological foray. I had never even heard of a Least Flycatcher until Sunday, and it turns out there’s a cluster of them around my house.

The feature I love most on the app, which I highly recommend — it’s called Merlin Bird ID, is a sound ID. You sit in your yard and hit record. As the app picks up bird calls, the name and photo of the bird pops up on your screen.

This app has completely changed my outdoor experience. Basically, instead of a symphony playing in the background of whatever I’m doing, I’m sitting on the edge of my seat listening for the instruments themselves.

The first morning of having the app, I saved about 15 two-minute recordings of the birds in my yard. That night, during the time when not so long ago I would have been bathing, feeding, and putting to bed my two kids, I sat on the couch and re-listened to the recordings of each bird in my yard that day, trying to commit to memory the name of the bird and its specific call.

That was hard. I can’t remember the last time I tried to memorize anything. But it also felt really good. Like when you’ve been sitting in the car for hours and you get out to stretch your legs.

Parts of my brain that had been dozing since History 101 in college began to stir. I wasn’t able to memorize all 12 birds and their calls, but the next morning, when I went out to do another recording, I knew two of them without referring to the app for help.

I also downloaded another app for plant IDing. I figure if it’s half as much fun as the birding app, I’ll be set for summer.

The Beginning of a New Era

I’m excited that I’m feeling inspired to learn these new things, but I’m also doing an inward eyeroll. Thinking, oh boy, here it comes…. All the old lady stuff.

But this is also what the studies on midlife tell us. That the middle part of life is a time for new interests, hobbies, and friendships.

The schlepping days are behind us. We have time again. Little by little.

Right now I’m still working full-time, parenting teenagers, feeding pets, and taking care of a house that is slowly emptying out. But I can begin to see how, as each year passes, more space will start to open up in my life.

Even this year, with one kid out of the house and another driving, I’ve had hours in the day when I’m suddenly alone and not sure what to do with myself. Since I haven’t had a plan, I’ve ended up putting too much time into work projects that would be good enough as is. Or organizing closets. Or walking the dog, again.

Having a plan for how I’ll fill that empty space will be helpful.

This spring I started reaching out to friends to schedule walks, because I realized I had let myself become too solitary after Covid. I’ve also made a point to actually pick up the darn phone and call people I haven’t seen or talked to in months, sometimes years. Those two things have been really good for my mental health.

Now bird-watching. What could be next?