Maybe it’s my time in (later) life but I am increasingly fascinated by the shifting and shuffling of the various stages of the life cycle.
Indeed, the life cycle might comprise a sequence of well-known stages like youth, adulthood and old age but – and it’s a bit like the start and finish of the generations – when do each of these stages start and end? (Correction: I think we all know where old age ends. And to be fair, we also know where youth starts.)
But such is my fascination with these matters that I have begun to wonder about the existence of unofficial life cycle stages and events: these dark-matter black holes exist like silent, invisible speed humps that upset the rhythm of everyday life. And they can appear out of nowhere.
Take for example the perfectly innocuous census question around religious affiliation. Religiosity rises, falls and rises again throughout the life cycle. Belief in a god of any sort diminishes throughout the 20s … until the age of 28 and then “belief” starts its long and arduous journey, gathering momentum every year. Indeed, the most devout Australians are aged in their 90s.
The turning point. The silent speed hump. The change in theological thinking coincides with the advent of traditional marriage (and not with defacto relationships) which kicks off, typically, at the age of 28 for women and 30 for men.
And I can see why this might be so. Why would a 20-something think about the hereafter when the here and now is so damn exciting? No one feels as immortal as a fit and healthy 20-something. But with traditional marriage and the prospect of children, the thinking changes.
This pathway isn’t for everyone but it is for a sufficient number to effect an aggregate uptick in matters of belief.
In fact, if I was a religious minister, I might suggest that this was the invisible hand of the Almighty.
But the belief revelation in the late 20s is just the beginning of a series of speed humps. There is a time in the late 40s when another shift in thinking becomes apparent. It is the realisation that at some point in the future it will be necessary to live (possibly fully or substantially) on a source of income that you do not entirely understand, namely superannuation.
For years, decades even, retirement is regarded as a nebulous concept that exists somewhere beyond the event horizon. And because it is so far into the future, it is not necessary to fully understand precisely how it works or even what your super balance might be.
And then it happens. You are cruising through life on the late 40s highway – dealing with work, teenagers, mortgage – when it occurs to you that “understanding super” is something that maybe you should be across.
A silent speed hump has just upset your rhythm. You finally work out the gruesome details of how much is needed to live the lifestyle you think you are entitled to … and promptly change course as a consequence.