The Courage to Change: Reinvention, Decline, and the Joy of Experimenting

What if your best years weren’t behind you or ahead of you, but waiting patiently in a version of you that you haven’t met yet?

That thought’s been rattling around in my head lately — not as a soundbite or a meme, but as a quiet challenge. What if we let go of the idea that who we are is fixed? What if the point isn’t to cling to our peak, but to embrace what comes next?

I turn 40 this year. And I can tell you now: I’ve done the hustle. I’ve built careers, competed in fitness events, survived addiction, poured myself into things that gave me purpose. But lately, I’ve felt a shift. Not a crisis. A curiosity. A pull toward reinvention that doesn’t come from panic, but from possibility.

So I’ve been reading. Thinking. Watching people I admire do it differently. And two articles in particular hit me in the guts. One is by Arthur C. Brooks, about how we can experiment our way to happiness. The other is also by Brooks, on the uncomfortable truth that our professional peak often arrives earlier than we think — and how that knowledge can liberate us.

Put simply: If you want to be happier, you might have to get uncomfortable. You might have to do something new. And you might have to stop measuring your worth by the work you used to be amazing at.

Decline Is Inevitable. Diminishing Joy Isn’t.

The idea that our sharpest professional years are behind us feels confronting at first — especially for those of us who have spent decades tethering our value to productivity, impact, or accolades. But Brooks flips the fear on its head. He says the decline isn’t the tragedy. The tragedy is when we don’t prepare for it.

Instead of fighting decline with more ambition, he suggests we shift focus: from being the hero to becoming the guide. From performing to mentoring. From accumulating to distilling.

This doesn’t mean becoming less. It means becoming different. And, if we’re brave enough, maybe becoming more ourselves.

Experimentation as a Way of Life

In another piece, Brooks describes the power of experimenting your way out of a rut. He shares research on happiness interventions that work: gratitude, mindfulness, nature, social interaction, and movement. None of them are new. But they work not because they’re novel, but because they disrupt us. They ask us to shift.

Gratitude texts. Nature walks. A chat with a stranger. Noticing your breath. Moving your body without a goal beyond presence. These are small experiments. But they can change the chemistry of your day.

We talk so much about habits. But maybe what many of us need is a little rebellion against the rut. A willingness to say: I don’t know who I’ll be if I stop clinging to my current role or routine. But I’m willing to find out.

The Role Isn’t You. The Work Isn’t You. You Are Still Here.

As someone who’s worked across industries, I know what it feels like to be defined by the job title, the gym PB, the inbox, the output. But the scariest part of burnout or transition isn’t losing the job. It’s wondering if there’s anything left when that role disappears.

Spoiler: there is. It’s you. Still here. Still worthy. Still full of potential.

But the only way to access that version of yourself is to start experimenting. To try new things without knowing where they’ll lead. To get curious, not just about what you do next — but about who you want to become.

Midlife Isn’t a Crisis. It’s a Crossroads.

We’ve been sold this image of midlife as a breakdown. But what if it’s just the first time we’ve slowed down enough to ask better questions?

What brings me joy? What do I want to share? Who do I want to become less like? What am I no longer willing to perform?

As Brooks says, the biggest mistake professionally successful people make is trying to sustain peak performance indefinitely. But you are not your peak. You are your presence. Your contribution. Your growth.

What Get Out Has Taught Me

Building Get Out has taught me that community isn’t built through perfection. It’s built through participation. Through trying things together. Through failing forward.

We launched our volunteer matching tool not to solve loneliness, but to give people an easy place to start experimenting with meaning. We’re building a sports and movement matching tool next. Not for the fitness goals, but for the joy of doing something physical, present, and shared.

If you’re in a season of change, or discomfort, or quiet craving for more — this is your permission slip.

Try something new. Mess it up. Try again.

Your decline might have already started. And that might be the best thing that ever happened to you.

Because now, you get to build a different kind of life. One based on what matters. One you actually want to live.