"To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted." (Ecclesiastes 3:1 2.)

        A common misconception as we are growing up is that once we are adults, having finished school, obtained a job, or gotten married, life proceeds pretty much on an even keel, without much change, until we are old and feeble. But those of us who have lived through adulthood know better. There are lots of ups and downs, good times and not so good, quiet times and hectic times. Sometimes we feel sure of ourselves; at other points, we are filled with doubts and, perhaps, misgivings about the choices we have made. For few, if any, is adult life a bed of roses. For most, there is a full share of challenges to be met.

        Our "life structure" is built around the major choices we make and the course we then follow as we act upon those choices. Our choices and actions will be affected by the limits our world imposes upon us and by the actions of people around us. Our lives are centered around several life themes, areas in which we commit our energies and make our choices. Some common life themes include our life "dream"; our work; our relationships with others; our family life; our beliefs about life's meaning and purpose; and our life "clock" or expected life span. Generally, we could say that for a person's life structure to be "adequate" at any given time, it should provide at least a modicum of personal satisfaction and should be prized and rewarded by society. Sometimes, though, we will struggle through the more difficult periods of life if we can sustain our hope that things will improve and that our dreams can reach fruition. For example, a husband and wife may willingly submit to years of subsistence living to complete an education, expecting that circumstances will improve after the schooling is completed.

        As time passes, we may question the adequacy of our choices and actions in one life theme or another. Perhaps a child gets into serious trouble; our employer offers us a promotion that requires a move to another state; a life-threatening illness occurs; or we are called to or released from a demanding Church position. Perhaps the ticking away of our life clock or the cumulative impact of personal and world events causes us to reexamine what we are doing. wishing, and believing.

        If several major themes are affected at once, we enter a crisis period that requires important readjustments. A change in one thematic area may produce effects in others. For example, a job transfer may create disruptions in marital and family relationships if the spouse and children don't want to move; it may sever friendship ties and lead to a change in Church callings. Crises can initiate significant personal growth as we stretch ourselves to cope with them; on the other hand, if we are overwhelmed by them, their effects can be devastating.

Life Themes in Adulthood

        Let's now consider each of the life themes in turn, noting how each theme appears in different periods of the life course.

The Life Dream.
        The life dream is the vision of what we might do or become, what we might bring to pass in our lives. It excites us and helps us sustain our efforts as we try to bring to fruition the anticipations for the future contained within the dream. One of the tasks of early adulthood is to form and make specific that vision out of the shapeless longings of youth and then to set a course of action to bring it about. For example, John Goddard, the well-known explorer, constructed a list of some forty adventures or explorations he wanted to complete in his life, such as traveling the Nile from its source to the Mediterranean Sea. Another person might dream of becoming a gentleman farmer, complete with mansion and large, productive acreage. Someone else might envision being a fulfilled mother at the center of a loving home, surrounded by adoring children and a devoted husband. Yet another woman might not have crystallized a dream and may drift along for years, perhaps being a part of others' dream fulfillment, without any clear sense of her own desires. The dream usually includes within it elements of the other themes of work, of love and friendship, of growing older, of religion and life purposes.

        Youthful zest, enthusiasm, and the vitalizing idealism associated with the life dream are great aids in carrying the person into and through the young adult epoch. For there are momentous changes associated with moving out of the parental home, performing missionary service, establishing oneself in a new social group, getting into the world of full-time employment, and creating and solidifying new personal relationships. These often reach fruition in marriage and the creation of a new family unit.

        As we continue our lives, there will be times when we reflect upon our experiences, appraising whether our dreams are being realized, whether they are "pipe dreams" that are totally unrealistic, whether our dreams need revision since they may not represent what we now want, and so on. Actually, this appraisal is continuous, but most of the time we ignore or suppress it as a disruptive intrusion in the onward course to which we are committed. Periodically, though, we will engage in a more conscious, deliberate, and sometimes agonizing reappraisal. Many seem to experience this at midlife (roughly, ages thirty-five through forty-five). For example, a husband who has been buried for years in his work and career advancement may be shocked into the realization that he doesn't know his children and that his marriage has gone sour. Sometimes a poignant event (such as the death of a loved one) causes our feelings to surface, precipitating such a review. At such times we may rearrange the relative importance of our various life themes, with some assuming a new importance and others being relegated to a minor role.

        Another man (N. Eldon Tanner) also began teaching school at age twenty. He too engaged in business activities on the side to help support his family. However, at age thirty-seven, he was elected to the Alberta provincial legislature, and two years later he became a cabinet officer of the provincial government. At age fifty-five he became president of a business firm; at age sixty-two he was called as a general authority, remaining so until his death at age eighty-four.

        Still another man entered military service after high school graduation during world War II. Returning to civilian life, he went into the business world and became financially successful through a variety of enterprises. Called as a bishop, he felt very inadequate to counsel ward members. Following his release, he sold out most of his interests, moved his family to a university community, and started college in his late thirties. He graduated in three years, went on for an advanced degree, and is now a professional psychologist.

        One woman was a full-time homemaker, rearing several children. In her early forties she returned to college, graduated, completed a doctoral degree, and now works full-time as a professional.

        As a final example, a young man went to college immediately after high-school graduation, but he dropped out after two and one-half years to try his hand in business. He became an insurance agent, did very well at it, and was promoted to a managerial position. Unsatisfied with that line of work, he returned to college, graduated, and then went on to law school. He is now a practicing attorney.

        Career shifts are likely to increase in the years ahead. In the midst of the computer revolution in our highly technological society, the pace of change has been stepped up, and the already bewildering array of occupational specialties is increasing. More and more, we will need periodic retraining to keep current and to take advantage of new opportunities as well as to avoid unemployment due to obsolescence and other economic causes. Additionally, Americans today believe that work should be personally fulfilling. All of this suggests that both men and women will find it more difficult than ever to settle into one line of work and remain in it for a lifetime. Thus, we can anticipate more frequent job or career changes. It is improbable that the stresses associated with such changes will disappear. If we anticipate that they will happen and plan for them, however, we can reduce the stress and better cope with it.

        As we consider whether or not it is necessary for us to stay in one career path, a little thought experiment might prove enlightening. Suppose you were given a bonus on your life span. Let's say you had 150 years to live, and that you would have reasonably good physical and mental functioning for that period of time. Would you want to continue in the same work in which you are now engaged for the rest of your life? If not, what would you like to do? Would you like to pursue several additional careers? This experiment might suggest that there is nothing inevitable about having just one career in one's life. Additionally, a belief in eternal life suggests an extended sequence of possible careers, though we know practically nothing about career opportunities on the other side of the veil!

        In the season of young adulthood, a major task of living is that of finding a work niche, settling into it, giving it a (perhaps extended) try, and progressing within it. By middle adulthood we have ordinarily established our credentials; now, however, we may reappraise our job choice and our progress within it, our future prospects, and our possibilities for making a change before it's "too late." As suggested by the work histories above, some may opt for a change. Others may stay where they are, either out of choice or necessity. Women today often confront tough choices as they approach mid-life. The woman who has remained single or who has chosen a childless marriage while pursuing paid employment may reconsider the possibilities for children before her child-bearing years pass. A woman who has- chosen marriage and motherhood in her early twenties without concomitant paid employment may experience a reappraisaI as her children grow up and may consider entry into the labor force in some way.

        As we enter our sixties, we anticipate changes in our work status. For most, there will be no more promotions, the person having reached his terminal position. Retirement or partial retirement, early or delayed retirement, what to do with more free time, and adjustments due to changes in income must be considered as we move into late adulthood. Some enjoy, indeed relish, the retirement years; others, for whom the work theme is vital to their self-definition, put off retirement as long as possible and are miserable when it comes. The self-employed, not locked into a standardized retirement age, often work beyond the normal retirement age.

        It is interesting to note where people invest themselves emotionally; which relationships, if any, they will focus upon. It is instructive to consider how these concerns might change over the years of early, middle, and later adulthood, and to contemplate how the importance of these relationships might change as the life course proceeds. Some observers suggest that young adult men typically focus their energies on job and career to the relative neglect of family. In our Latter-day Saint society, men strongly committed to the Church may compound the situation by giving devoted service to time-demanding Church callings after the work day is over. The Church has recognized this problem, and the Brethren have striven in various ways to encourage men to give appropriate attention to the cultivation of family relationships.

        Traditionally, we have conceived of men as being concerned with activities and things as they pursue achievements in the world, while we have conceived of women as being more concerned with feelings and people. Whether or not this is a culturally prescribed and thus self-fulfilling phenomenon, it has been true more often than not that women have given more care to the cultivation of relationships than have men. It has been noted, for example, that women provide the bulk of intergenerational helping in our society; that is, if older parents need help, the women (daughters or daughters-in-law) usually step in; if children need help, the women (mothers, grandmothers, aunts) generally provide it. Through such help, relationships are solidified.

        Some observers have suggested that as adults move into the era of middle adulthood, men may reexamine their priorities and may shift toward a greater focus on interpersonal relationships, mending the marriage (or perhaps trying out a new one), trying to get closer to their children, and so on. They may also invest more in their relationships with their parents, as they see parental vigor and health decline, and recognize more vividly the limited time of the mortal life. Conversely, women who have immersed themselves in the care of home and family through the young adult years are sometimes reported to experience an opposite reaction to that of men as they enter midlife. Some, at least? turn outward from the family with a new or renewed interest in education, employment, and community involvement.

        Those who do not marry, as well as those who return to singlehood through divorce or death of a spouse (and who do not remarry), may focus on peer (usually same-sex) relationships, sometimes sharing living quarters. They often develop special relationships with other family members (parents, nieces, nephews, and so on). Some evidence suggests that single women are happier with their lives than married women of corresponding ages. The evidence also suggests that single men are less happy than single women. Perhaps this is due to less adequate domestic arrangements and to less satisfactory or meaningful peer associations.

        One other relationship should be mentioned, as it is one of considerable significance for many adults: the mentoring relationship. In young adulthood there may be someone, usually five to fifteen years older, who may provide sponsorship, guidance, support, and inspiration, usually in a personal and direct way, for the person. The mentor may open doors, teach the person the ropes, model appropriate behavior, and build the person's self-confidence. In time, as the person achieves experience and maturity, the relationship must change; at times, there is a stormy break, especially if the mentor needs the relationship to continue.

        As the life course continues toward and into middle adulthood, the person may take his own turn at mentoring. Mentoring occurs in many settings: in the trade, business, or profession; in the sports world; in child rearing and home management; in the Church. Bishops, stake presidents, and auxiliary and quorum presidents often serve as mentors to their close associates. Youth leaders and teachers may also function as mentors.

        Personal relationships of depth and stability greatly enrich our lives. They provide much of the stuff that makes our lives seem worthwhile. When those relationships end or become disturbed, much grief and agony ensue. The vicissitudes of these relationships tell much of the story of our lives.

        Once we have worked out our values and beliefs, it is difficult for us to change them, at least in any major way. As a missionary church, we are well aware that the great bulk of our converts come from the youth and young adult groups. While substantial numbers may come from those in their thirties, relatively few are forty or beyond. Similarly, for those who are lifetime members of the Church, activation or reactivation occurs more readily in the twenties and early thirties; it is less likely after forty. Of course, at any age, each of us may come to the point when our present belief system is so unsatisfying, untenable, or incomplete that we become quite receptive to new options. Generally, this is more likely before our patterns of commitment are finely rooted, or when life events create upheavals within us, causing us to question anew our earlier assumptions and beliefs. Such was the case for Thomas L. Kane, a noteworthy example because of his role in early Church history. The son of a noted federal judge, he led in his youth a privileged life of education and travel and had entertained a future that would fulfill political ambitions of fame and public prominence. But what started out as a casual encounter with the Mormons led him soon, at age twenty-four, to visit the beleaguered Saints, following their expulsion from Nauvoo, in the year 1846. He wrote of this experience four years later, "I believe there is a crisis in the life of every man, when he is called upon to decide seriously and permanently if he will die unto sin and live unto righteousness. . . . Such an event, I believe . . . was my visit to [the Mormon camps on the Missouri]. . . . It was the spectacle of your noble self denial and suffering for conscience' sake, [that] first made a truly serious and abiding impression upon my mind, commanding me to note that there was something higher and better than the pursuit of the interests of earthly life for the spirit made after the image of Deity." fn

        While Kane did not join the Church, he stated, "But now, I have lost almost entirely the natural love for intrigue and management that once were a prominent trait of my character." His commitment to loftier ideals was demonstrated in many subsequent acts of public service, most particularly in his assistance to the Mormon cause.

        During the years between the mid-thirties and the mid-forties, as we pass the anticipated midpoint of our life, we look back upon the past and also look forward to the future. We consider the things we still might change in our family relationships, our careers, in our personal habits, and in our value systems.

        In the forties and fifties, we tend to experience a greater sense of urgency to make amends for our neglect of or damage to others, and to accomplish things while we can. At the same time, we engage in a more studied reflection of what we are about. These are the "solid citizen" years, where we experience ourselves at the center of society, the anchor generation between the older folks and the younger ones we are shepherding. For most of us, these are the years of fruition, when our careers reach their peaks and when our children mature and leave the nest, giving us some evidence about how they have turned out. Many experience these years as "the best years of our lives." We also begin to wonder what our legacy will be, what we will leave for our children and the world, what social impact our lives will have made.

        In the sixties and seventies, the scales have definitely tipped on the side of being old rather than young. Now we spend much time reviewing the past. While we may initiate new projects, these are usually of more modest dimensions than those of young and middle adulthood. As health and vigor permit, we may try to bring to a satisfactory conclusion unfinished business or projects, though at a more measured pace than formerly. Those who feel particularly robust may initiate ambitious new projects, and some may bring these to a satisfactory conclusion.

        In our eighties and nineties, should we survive in reasonably good health, we may experience as a bonus granted to us before it is our turn to leave. By now, we have outlived most of our peers and perhaps some of our children.

        Throughout adulthood there abides the persistent wish for life after death. Unless quenched by despair, cynicism, sin, or hopeless misery, the flame of faith enlightens our path with the promise of reunion with those who have preceded or who will follow us through the veil.

        This suggests that proper planning through the gospel vision can prepare us for the inevitable vicissitudes of life and can prevent us from making some serious mistakes. It can also make us resilient against the stresses of expected and unexpected crises. But, generally, a gospel vision does not come easily or early in life. For many, the gospel perspective is not prized in early adulthood, and for many more it is lost farther along the way. All of us make mistakes, some of them bad ones. Fortunate it is, then, that the gospel teaches us that life's conditions are redemptive and educative rather than condemnatory and punitive. We can repent; we can change; we can seek to make amends and to correct our course at any age. The parable of the prodigal son, the parable of the laborers in the vineyard hired at different times of the day, the Savior's treatment of the woman caught in adultery all are examples of God's willingness to help lift us sinners out of old mistakes and start us on a better course.

        The eternal perspective of the gospel also comforts us in our declining days. As we experience the diminution of our powers and the waning of energy, as our bodily mechanisms wear out, we can accept this in good spirits, being assured that on the other side of the veil we shall pick up the unfinished business of life with full vigor and continue on the pathway of eternal growth.

        For many, great opportunities open up in the retirement years that can fill late adulthood with satisfying and ennobling service, years that might otherwise be filled with aimless busywork, loneliness, self-pity, or a surfeit of recreation. Full-time missionary work may be a possibility, as may temple work. Continued genealogical research and the development of family histories can produce generational ties. A variety of other voluntary service options, if exercised, can make the retirement years as busy and meaningful as we care to make them: welfare projects, foster grandparenting, sub-for-San/as, neighborly visiting of the home-bound, and so on.

Coping with Challenges in the Adult Life Course

1. See Seymour B. Sarason, Work, Aging, and Social Change (New York: Free Press, 1977), pp. 245-51. Sarason discusses the belief, especially strong for professional people, that one must remain in a single career until retirement. He labels it the "one life-one career" imperative.

2. Letter from Thomas L. Kane to Brigham Young and others, July 11, 1850, LDS Church Archives; quoted in Leonard J. Arrington, "In Honorable Remembrance: Thomas L. Kane's Services to the Mormons," BYU Studies 21 (Fall 1981): 392.

3. Spencer W. Kimball, "The Things of Eternity - Stand We in Jeopardy?" Ensign 7 (January 1977): 3.

Suggested Readings

I have drawn heavily from what I consider to be the best single reference to the adult life course: Daniel J. Levinson, The Seasons of a Man's Life (New York: Knopf, 1978); the book is also published in paperback (New York: Ballantine, 1979). His general conception of the life course, the elements of the life structure, and the temporal processes affecting that structure I find very insightful. In this work, Levinson postulated a rigid sequencing of periods of stability and change affixed to precise ages, an idea that has not received general support.

Of course, I have also relied upon the work of many other contributors to adult psychology. A good general treatment of this field is the text by Judith Stevens-Long, Adult Life: Developmental Processes, 2nd ed. (Palo Alto: Mayfield, 1984).

About the Author

Dr. Kenneth R. Hardy, professor of psychology, has taught at Brigham Young University for over thirty years. He received his bachelor's and master's degrees from the University of Utah and his Ph.D. from the University of Michigan. He has been a consultant in interpersonsal relations and community development and has published articles in both professional and Church periodicals.

He has served in the Church as bishop, bishop's counselor, high councilor, ward executive secretary, and in many other teaching and administrative callings.

He and his wife, Mary, are the parents of six children.