I have had too many friends close to our family suffer the consequences of a mid life turned "crisis".  So, I had to write about it:

I equate life to a ship at sea.  We start out on our journey, a discovery of fascinating people, nature, experiences keen to our specific interests and desires.  Along the way this self induced current pulls us in our own un-charted direction.  The trials, tribulations and memorable encounters log into our psyche and build our own internal infrastructure along the way.  We become who we were meant to be; our character defined.

Somewhere along that self discovery, we enter the parallel of "mid-life".  I admit I have entered that point in my life at forty-five.  And that is perfectly okay with me.  In fact it gives me standing, a badge of recognition and a mentorship card for others who have yet to paddle these waters.  My friends, it will come. 

But.  And this is one big but.  You must use caution to catch the signs of this mid-life becoming a crisis.  A "crisis" is a very personal, internal and sometimes in some rare incidents, a vain thing.  Of course the "vain" part of this may be the perception of others who with some reasonable assessment of the problem, discover a lot of the panic, turmoil and chaos is the result of some very selfish desires and typical self discoveries. 

Your vessel in mid-life strains a bit in the hull but the masts broaden and fill, carrying you along.  Management of your vessel is necessary so as not to strain it along the way.  It becomes necessary to lighten the load, exchange your parcels along the way for items more easily carried on your journey.  A mid-life "crisis" results when you insist on carrying or in some cases returning to items you once had on your journey.  Stubbornly, you drag them along with you.  Eventually masts strain, the bones of the ship weaken even crack and the ocean begins to eat you up.  You drop anchor and watch in disbelief as others sail effortlessly past.  Sometimes, those passing ships are spouses, friends, children, family.  You are left with your very full ship, cargo up to your neck, dead in the water.  (and I mean that figuratively). 

So, my friends if this crisis is not caught in time, if our fruitless desires become our burdens and weigh down our ship, the seasons of our lives wilt on the branch.

Monitor your changes, they have not discovered the eternal life pool yet.  Assess your needs but do not forget your treasures.  Love your family, your spouse if you have one, your animals if you have niether and by all means, love yourself and your future.  Sail your ship to a wonderful life with only a thimble full of regret. 

Under the shade of a tan umbrella I part the pages of my book, pull the spare chair under my feet and call to the boys as they begin an underwater treasure hunt.

"Don't run and jump out far from the step!"  I say with a big grin as they dive underwater for treasures valued with assigned points.  Sounds clearly tinny and crisp to them above waterline are muffled to a dull silence as their little streamline bodies swirl and kick just below the surface. 

This time of year the sun screams from a cloudless sky and stings your skin awake.  A cool splash in the water is a blanket of relief and the time between wet slick skin and dry is only moments as the moisture is pulled back into the air.  It has a way of tingling the hairs on your arms back to attention. 

The rule; no water guns are to be discharchged at mom.  She has a book in her hands. 

Other than that simple rule, there are none.  Jumping is allowed, screaming most definitely, laughing without abandon of course and watermelon eaten in the pool is the only way to eat it.  The sticky juice pours down chin, across faces and down elbows.  The rind is tossed to the side and a dive down under and back up washes a boy better than any bath I know. 

The song of the cicada arrives in Arizona just after June 21.  Their song is a sweet reminder of the mesquite smell of the BBQ, the friends poolside and music filling the afternoon.  In the early evening once the quiet comes upon us and the sun has taken a break from its day, we sit still and hear the cicada song, its buzzing a cue to my boys to announce officially; "Mom, the cicadas!  Summer is here!" 

"Yes it is.  Summer is here in Arizona, in all its stinging, sticky, sweet glory."