There’s something I didn’t expect when I started this series. That some of the most honest conversations about midlife would come from men.
Simon Salt arrived in my inbox with answers that stopped me, not because they were dramatic, but because they were so considered. So willing to look inward. Here is a man who spent decades chasing adrenaline across some of the most high-octane environments imaginable, the military, Greenpeace UK, the fire service, international corporate leadership, and then turned fifty, and asked himself a question that takes real courage: Why?
Not “What next.” Not “How do I keep going?” But why. What was I actually looking for in all of that?
That kind of honesty is rare in anyone, and I think it’s the work that midlife asks of us, regardless of gender, to stop running long enough to examine what we were running towards.
What moved me most in Simon’s answers was the shift from proving worth to knowing it. He describes a version of himself that needed the role to come first, the danger, the mission, the external validation of a life lived at full tilt. And then, quietly, that changed. Not in a dramatic moment of enlightenment, but in the gradual recognition that when you finally know your own worth, you stop needing the world to confirm it.
He is now a yoga teacher. He protects his peace like it’s sacred, because it is. He is learning from his adult children as much as he is teaching them. And he is getting tattoos, unashamedly, brilliantly, with no regrets worth mentioning.
I think you’ll understand why I wanted his voice in this series.
What caught you off guard about your 50s?
How hard would turning 50 hit me? Other milestone birthdays were celebrations, but 50 felt so much more serious. I felt that the world would see me differently and that my role in life was changing.
I’ve spent a lot of time in high-adrenaline roles. The military, Greenpeace UK, a firefighter, and an international corporate executive. 50 was a reassessment. Asking the question “Why?” What was I looking for in those roles, and did I still need it?
One thing you’ve walked away from, and don’t miss:
Really, this answer flows from the previous one. The need for a role that puts me first and others second. I came to the realisation that the core of my chasing of adrenaline was my constant desire to prove my worth. Now I know my worth, I can place others before me.
One thing you’ve chosen in its place:
In addition to my primary roles, I am also a yoga teacher. With that comes a sense of the servant/teacher, and that is really what inspires me at this stage of my life. Being of service while still being able to lead. My work around the menopause transition is very much rooted in that philosophy.
One line you no longer cross, or let others cross:
Not letting myself or others disturb my peace. In the chaotic world we currently find ourselves in, it is too easy to get sucked into the anger response triggered by headlines and, especially, conversations on social media. I choose to deliberately not engage with that. I stay informed, but I don’t let it disturb my peace, which I truly value.
One small decision that shifted more than you expected:
Becoming a yoga teacher. I have practised yoga for more than 20 years. Sometimes consistently; other times, less so. 4 years ago, one of my teachers persuaded me to join a teacher-training class. You learn so much more than how to lead a yoga class. It is a very introspective process lasting 200 hours. And then you find, rather than graduating as a teacher, you have just set foot on a lifelong path.
One thing that keeps you grounded:
It’s hard to choose one thing. Certainly, my wife does a great job of doing that. But also, teaching yoga and meditation and being a student of both helps enormously.
One story about midlife you’ve stopped telling yourself:
That this is a season of decline and slowing down. It isn’t, it’s a period of reassessment, of making choices that bring you joy and contentment. Learning that contentment doesn’t mean settling. I always thought midlife was about crisis and being “old”. I imagine younger people still see it that way. But I find I think of myself less and less as old and more and more as aged, like cheese or wine. A better, more refined version.
The thing no one told you you’d actually enjoy about your 50s:
The number of companies that want to offer me discounts! It’s surprising, I think, because they feel you won’t be around to take advantage of them for long! Seriously, though, I am surprised by the amount I enjoy having adult children. I always dreaded them becoming adults because that meant I’d be much older; instead, I find us having more mature conversations. It has made me immensely proud to watch them develop their own personalities and see how they navigate life in ways different from mine. As much as I want to teach them, I find myself learning from them.
Complete this: At 50+, I am…
…more certain of myself. Of who I am and what I want to be. I am embracing the future instead of living in fear of it. The clarity that ageing brings is surprising. Since I turned 50, I have been getting tattoos, and I love the fact that no one ever says, “You’ll regret that when you are older”. Too late. I am. And no regrets or, as Frank sang, too few to mention.
My Note to My Future Self
What I keep returning to in Simon’s answers is the idea of becoming aged, like wine, like cheese. Better, more refined, not less.
We live in a culture that treats ageing as a slow loss. Something to fight, delay, or at least soften with the right products and the right framing. And yet here is someone describing 50 as the point at which he finally became more certain, not less. More present. More himself.
I also loved what he said about peace. Choosing, deliberately, not to be disturbed by a world that is designed to disturb you. That is not passivity. That is discernment. That is a grown person deciding that their nervous system is worth protecting.
And his closing line about the tattoos, “Too late. I am. And no regrets“, honestly, that is some of the best midlife energy I have ever read.
If you’re following along this week:
My Stop: Where am I still chasing adrenaline or external validation to prove my worth?
My Start: What would change if I genuinely believed I didn’t need to earn my place?
My Boundary: Where am I letting other people’s noise disturb the peace I’ve worked hard to build?
My Micro-decision: What is one role, habit, or identity I’ve outgrown, and what would I choose in its place?
My Practice: Where in my life am I the servant-teacher? And where could I be?
Journal prompt: If I already knew my worth, truly, quietly, without needing it confirmed, what would I stop doing? And what would I finally let myself begin?
If you’d like to be part of the ‘85 Weeks to Fifty' series, or you know a woman whose voice would feel like medicine here, email me at hello@kiransinghuk.com. And if you’re reading this thinking, same, tell me in the comments: What is your takeaway from this interview?