Am I really going to try a career change after 40?     

     What the heck am I thinking? I’m forty-five years old. My life is what it is…isn’t it? I’m not so sure, and after several months of soul searching, I’ve decided that I need to take a more active role in my life. That might sound strange to some, but I’ll bet a few of you know exactly what I mean. Yes. It’s not a misprint. I’m going to participate more in my own life. Let me explain.

I had checked out.

     Life was good, don’t get me wrong. I had nothing to complain about. It didn’t turn out the way I thought—but when does it ever, right? Somewhere along the way, I had stopped planning, anticipating, and growing. I was just… existing. Just reacting to things as they happened to me. The surrounding color had faded to a dull gray.  

     For years I taught high school, but in my thirties, I moved and married. I thought I would continue teaching, but I never found a new school that fits. I think that’s when it began for me. I didn’t find a new teaching job, and instead of embracing something new, I just stalled. I became a stay at home wife. It allowed me to isolate myself from most of the world. 

I stopped contributing in any meaningful way. 

     Before I knew it, I was turning forty and didn’t have anyone to celebrate with except family—which seemed sad to me. I was content with life. I laughed. I had wonderful memories. But time was moving while I was standing still. 

Life felt like a parade. 

     I could see tons of people packed on these beautiful bright “life floats.” But I was standing on the side, watching them roll along. Every once in a blue moon, I would see something or read something that would cause a spark of color. I’d feel a burst of energy and want to make something happen. But I wouldn’t fan the flame, and it would quickly die out and fade back to gray.

Then, in the summer of 2019, my dad passed. 

     For all of you out there who have lost a parent, you may understand the layers of complex thoughts I worked through. I woke up a little. I felt a nudge saying, “Pay attention.” It felt like the veil over my eyes lifted and I began asking myself, “Is this what you want? Or do you want more?” 

     Don’t misunderstand. I think many people would be happy with the life I had. But I wanted more. I just didn’t know how to get it. So I made a list. That’s where checking back in started for me. I made a list of things I’d always said I wanted to do but hadn’t. It took a while to make because I had to reach back into my memories. I looked at old picture albums, journals, and even memorabilia stretching back into high school. Then, once I had a decent list of lost dreams, I started with one of the easier items on the list.

I got my ears pierced. 

     I know. It sounds so silly. But I had wanted it for decades. It terrified me. The little girl waiting for her turn got a little impatient with me and offered a stuffed animal for comfort. It was hard to follow through, but I did it. And let me tell you something. I walked into that mall draped in gray and came out in full peacock mode. It fanned my life’s flame like pure sweet oxygen. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I told everyone who would listen. And I absolutely could not wait to cross another lost dream off my list. I joined a gym, got a massage, and even tried a yoga class.

     It wasn’t easy, but it was rewarding. One task at a time and I felt myself breathing deeper and smiling easier. With each item crossed off, I felt stronger. Empowered. By the time I reached “write a novel” on my list, my life’s flame was so bright I didn’t even hesitate. I wrote it. And I love it. So yes, I think I am going to do this.

I am going to be an author at forty-five.

     Even if no one buys a single copy. I’m going to do it for me. To capture a lost dream. To fan my life’s flame. The fire inside me is strong now. There really is no stopping it. But, honestly, I wouldn’t want to, anyway. Do I have some grand super-secret to waking you up and sparking your flame? No. I’m sorry. Should you change your career after 40? Maybe. All I can do is tell you what worked for me, hoping it starts an idea smoldering in your heart.

There’s one more thing I can do. 

     I’ll reach out my hand and invite you aboard my colorful life float. There’s plenty of room. I can’t wait to hear what lost dreams you find.