As is typical in midlife, I’ve recently been adjusting to a shift in one of my cherished relationships. I kept asking myself how I might make it be more like how it was before, but I eventually realized that was the wrong question.
When I shifted my question away from the outcome and toward what I could learn, something eased inside me. Instead of asking, “How can I make this person do what I want them to do?” I started asking, “What do I need to understand about this changing relationship?” and things felt more open. It became less about controlling what might happen and more about noticing what was truly mine (what I want, why it’s important, how I react when other people have different priorities, and what I choose to do) and what wasn’t (someone else’s choices or behaviour).
When I hold questions like these, the more open-ended ones, the answers often arrive in surprising ways. I might hear a line in a song, catch part of a conversation on the radio, or, as someone walks by me, notice a word or image on a truck or a sign, or sense something quietly in my body or in a dream. The answers arrive like puzzle pieces, and it’s more like having a conversation than finding a solution.
In a recent Pulling the Thread podcast conversation, Elise Loehnen and Dr Lisa Miller, author of The Awakened Brain, described synchronicity as “an invitation to participate in the miracle of life.” That language resonated deeply with me because that’s how it feels when I send these questions out to the world around me.
What comes back depends less on how hard I try and more on whether I’m really paying attention.
If this way of wondering speaks to you, you might want to notice:
- What questions are showing up for you right now
- Whether a small shift in language changes how one of them feels
- What your questions reveal about what you care about
- What you’re noticing as you move through your days
What happened when I left my house after writing this
After finishing this, I went out to run some errands. The fresh snow made everything look like a black-and-white photo, so any bit of color really stood out. I put on my headphones and listened to the rest of the Pulling the Thread episode. Dr Miller talked about two doors: a red one and a yellow one. The red door was something you wanted but couldn’t make happen. The yellow door was what opened after hearing “no,” not by pushing harder, but by following synchronicity.
While she described these colors, I looked up and saw a bright yellow car in a driveway. As I got closer, I noticed the house had a red door. Then I saw a truck with a yellow cab carrying a piece of red equipment, and a moment later, a red storefront sign next to a yellow one, with an orange sandwich board in between.
Red doors, yellow doors, and the space between
Since yellow and red kept appearing together, I started thinking about orange, the mix of both. I’m very familiar with the red-door way, full of striving, to-do lists, and plans. The yellow-door way feels newer, even though I’ve been practicing this kind of awareness for a while, and it makes even ordinary moments enjoyable. It’s that blend of both that really entices me now: open receptivity paired with focused discernment. Together, they create something more integrated, whole, and powerful.Dr Miller says midlife is one of three natural times for spiritual growth. That matches what I’ve noticed in myself and in many of my clients as we go through this stage of life. It’s also a time when we really know how to get stuff done.
The blending of these two energies reminds me of how I often conceive of midlife as the Power Years, the window of time when we have as much experience behind us as we do possibility ahead. The power lies in how we hold and use both, especially when we give ourselves space to be curious and refine the questions that surface along the way.
