A Midlife Renaissance

On Guitars and Midlife Crises

Last fall, I went to Willie’s American Guitars in St. Paul, MN, one of the country’s best guitar stores, and bought my dream guitar.

This is me and my new guitar. If you’re wondering, it’s a 2005 Gibson Historic Les Paul ‘57 Reissue.

Me, buying my first really nice guitar at Willie’s, in front of a wall showcasing a number of even nicer guitars.

It cost about twice as much as any other guitar I’ve ever bought, and the sticker shock was real. I should note that my last guitar, a new Martin acoustic, was purchased at Willie’s well over a decade ago. My fiancee and soon-to-be wife were with me when I bought the Martin. It has always felt special because it was made with Sitka Spruce, and she grew up in Juneau, AK, surrounded by Sitka Spruce.

I’m almost scared to go back to Willie’s. Can I walk out of the store without some expensive new gear?

Is This a Midlife Crisis?

It’s almost a cliche, right? A guy turns a certain age, has some money in his pocket, and starts reliving his teenage dreams. For me, I guess this is some version of playing loud music on vintage guitars.

Also, let’s get something straight: I don’t consider myself ‘mid-life,’ but actuarially, it’s an accurate statement. If I’m not there yet, I’ll be there soon (I should note that there’s grey in my scruff when it grows out a bit. And as for the hair on my head, well, we’ll never know, will we?).

Let me summarize things for you:

You know my day job. I’m a financial planner and partner at Trailhead Planners in Edina, MN. I'm the author of Money with Purpose. I’m also a proud husband and the happy, if often tired, father of two ridiculously cute tiny humans.

That’s a lot, right?

Enough, even?

But here’s what happened last year:

I joined a band, the Stone Arch Rivals. I’m feverishly buying guitar gear and practicing every day. Our band gigs regularly, and we are currently recording our first album at Flowers Studio in Minneapolis with Ryan Smith of Ryan and Pony and Soul Asylum.

Is this a midlife crisis?

A white family man and successful entrepreneur nears 40 and joins a rock and roll band.

It sounds like a bad VH1 special, right?

So, questions arise:

• Am I distracting myself?

• Am I running from my life and responsibilities?

• Am I having a midlife crisis?

Or, put differently…

• Have I found my true passion?

• Must I quit my job, leave my family, hop in a van, and tour for the next three years?

Luckily, I’m old enough not to fall into such binary traps.

Here’s what I’ve come to believe: What we call a midlife crisis is actually watching someone avoid their midlife renaissance.

Midlife Renaissance

Here’s the thing: I’m not in any crisis. My family unit is strong, and my business is thriving, not suffering from my neglect. My wife wants me to invest in music because she understands how important it is to me.

This isn’t a crisis.

As I’ve transitioned from having tiny babies in the house to having young children, my energy has returned. I’ve been able to reclaim certain parts of myself that felt distant or unattainable when I was in the thralls of sleep deprivation and what often felt like day-to-day survival.

An inner fullness has re-emerged.

This isn’t a midlife crisis.

This is a Midlife Renaissance.

The Crisis is in the Avoidance

I believe that the universe tests you. I believe that it wants you to evolve into your own inner fullness.

The universe gives you whims, ideas, intuitions, and creative sparks.

Much of what we call depression and anxiety results from ignoring these droplets of universal impulse. In his crowning nonfiction work, The War of Art, Steven Pressfield calls this force Resistance. Resistance is the ego, your inner judge, or some other malevolent force that wants you to avoid your inner call to glory, creation, art, or fulfillment.

Our work as artists, professionals, parents, and adults is to overcome Resistance and do the moment’s work—not our life’s work. Don’t worry too much about that. Just do the moment’s work and know a lifetime of moments will add up to enough.

And so we avoid the Midlife Renaissance at our own peril.

When we avoid it, that’s when it becomes destructive. If you want the convertible, get the convertible. Do the thing. Just try not to blow your marriage up in the process.

But for most of us, it’s something different. We become more of ourselves. Our passions re-emerge. I’m not looking for a crisis; I’m looking to become more fully me. Thankfully, I don’t need to burn anything down to achieve that.

What’s your Midlife Renaissance look like?