Befriending Your Instincts: Midlife & Beyond
We are wired with superbly crafted instinctual drives. Rather than being outdated impulses, our instincts—self-preservation, sexual attraction, and social adaptation—are built-in, biological wisdom.
Look at the mama bear resting through the winter, the geese taking turns leading their flock, or the butterfly working its way free from the cocoon. Nature doesn’t question its drives—it trusts them. And so should we.
Yet many of us have been taught to override, ignore, or suppress our instincts: pushing through exhaustion, doing it all alone, hiding our longings, or letting perfectionism rule the day.
But here’s the truth: real wisdom comes from tuning in, not shutting down. When we honor our foundational physical needs, our need for connection, and our desire for vitality, we stop fighting ourselves and start living in rhythm with who we were designed to be.
As Enneagram teacher Russ Hudson reminds us: “The most helpful question to ask when working with our instinctual drives is, ‘What is my relationship with each of these?’”
Instincts as Seasonal Archetypes
In my work, I like to align our instincts with the feminine seasonal archetypes. These images give us language and texture for what our instincts look like when they’re flowing—and when they’re tangled.
Because here’s the thing: midlife is about flow. This is our appointed time to notice where we’re tangled and lovingly do the work of untangling—because that’s work that matters.
Winter’s Crone → Self-Preservation Instinct
The Crone teaches us to tend to foundational needs without overthinking. We feel thirsty and drink. We feel tired and rest.
She shows us the practical magic of regularly engaging in deep relaxation and true rest, nurturing our dream life, and attending to physical, mental, financial, and home-loving wellness.
Crone tangles invite curiosity:
Overload: Becoming neurotic about keeping the house “magazine ready” or obsessing over diet rules.
Block: Avoiding finances with the excuse: “I’ve just never been good with money.”
To restore flow, I imagine my inner Crone as a tartan-wrapped Scottish nanny. She clucks at me when I’m off-kilter, nudges me to brew a cup of tea, straighten the kitchen, or tuck under a blanket for a reset. She whispers of new dreams waiting to be envisioned—as soon as I’ve flossed, of course.
Spring’s Maiden → Sexual Attraction Instinct
The Maiden wakes us up to life’s juicy factor—our aliveness. She pulls us out of comfort zones, lures us toward what delights us, and sparks the thrill of risk and discovery.
Her energy is about what lights us up, makes us more vibrant, and keeps us engaged with the world.
Questions the Maiden stirs:
What lights me up?
Where am I playing it too safe?
What arouses my curiosity?
When do I feel most alive?
Maiden tangles invite curiosity:
Overload: Chasing high-risk thrills or addictive behaviors.
Block: Needing absolute control before trying anything new.
To restore flow, we experiment, flirt with possibilities, and let ourselves follow what makes our hearts race in healthy, enlivening ways.
Summer’s Mother → Social Adaptation Instinct
The Mother tunes us to the needs and signals of others. She reads non-verbal cues, adapts in healthy ways, and facilitates connection and collaboration. In midlife and beyond, her instinct guides us into two especially important areas: friendships and self-investment.
As our own children begin leaving the nest, our attention shifts more and more to friendships—how to nurture them in ways that feel mutually nourishing, so they evolve alongside us instead of fading or becoming one-sided. The Mother reminds us that true connection is reciprocal, and that tending to relationships with honesty and care allows them to flourish through the changes of this season.
And perhaps most tender—and gritty—of all, the Mother instinct nudges us to redirect some of that “get ’er done” energy toward ourselves. Midlife calls us to reinvest in our own becoming, to reclaim the time, effort, and care we’ve long poured into others and direct it toward creating a life we truly love moving forward.
Questions the Mother stirs:
What friendships feel mutually nourishing and worth tending?
What is worthy of my “get ’er done” energy now?
How can I reinvest in myself with the same devotion I’ve long given to others?
Mother tangles invite curiosity:
Overload: Slipping into codependence or over-functioning to keep others happy.
Block: Avoiding connection or collaboration because it feels “too hard” or too vulnerable.
To restore flow, we practice showing up with generosity and boundaries—investing in relationships that feed us, and in ourselves as worthy of our own best energy.
Autumn’s Matriarch-Queen → The Threshold of Flow
While each instinct aligns with a season, I also honor Autumn as the place where cycles begin and end. It is the Matriarch-Queen’s season, where we both harvest and prepare for what’s next.
First, we celebrate the fruits of our labor. Let’s face it: no woman arrives at midlife without having accrued assets—wisdom, skills, and resilience—that are worthy of gratitude.
Then, like every wise farmer, we take stock. We notice what’s worth keeping as is and what needs to be cut down and reseeded for the next growing season.
This is where we ask:
What areas of my life are full of gratitude-evoking goodness?
What is unnecessarily draining me and ready for release?
What do I see clearly now that I couldn’t before?
When we recognize how important our instinctual flow is, we become clear about what permission-slip signing is really all about—it’s about claiming our authority, releasing unnecessary attachments, and creating space for a new kind of growing season. One focused on befriending our wiring and crafting a life we authentically love, one seasonal instinct at a time.
Befriending the Flow
Each instinct has its wisdom. Each archetype offers guidance. And each tangle is an invitation to pause, get curious, and restore the flow.
Because flow—not perfection, not control—is the goal of a woman’s second half of life.
When we befriend our instincts instead of resisting them, we reclaim our ancient, embodied wisdom.
We stop shutting down and start showing up—alive, attuned, and aligned, one season at a time.
And really, what better work could there be as we create a life we truly love?
