🔗 Share this article

Myself crave advice from those on dealing with life’s midpoint hurdles, including philosophical reflections, waning significance, developing a neck akin to a surrealist painting along with a recent enthusiasm regarding sunny relocation programs. Recently, I read the chef’s comments about hitting fifty in an interview: “I think if you’re going to have a good go at the second half of your life, you have to edit away all the noise,” he said. “Spend time with positive individuals. I steer clear of downbeat types – ‘energy vampires’ – and am learning to decline more often.”

At first, I pondered: isn’t this contradictory between “avoiding negative people” and “getting better at saying no”? Might that suggest he must escape his own nature? I know – it’s exactly the kind of thing a mood hoover would say, and that’s because I am one. Yet, we gloomy souls like to call ourselves “vibe suckers”. Refrain from using “downer” or “spoil-sport” – these comparisons to everyday gear are insulting; we possess sentiments (though often pessimistic). If forced, I’d agree to “gloomy soft cover”.

Perhaps you’re one too. Are you less the life and soul of the party and more its accountant or undertaker? Does your thorough reply to casual greetings make people step back nervously? Do you greet “fun” activity suggestions with an expression that makes you look like you’ve swallowed a slug? Do you see yourself in gloomy figures; has a spiritual reader mentioned your vibe is murky?

Should this ring true, welcome to the club, and it’s fine. Even as popular advice encourages cutting ties with “exhausting” pals, I believe we provide genuine benefits. I reckon a mood hoover would have said something discouraging – or at least made a slug-swallowing face – when Jamie described his plan to write a kids’ book with an Australian First Nation main character without consulting Indigenous communities, which could have prevented a whole lot of problems, upset and offence. You don’t get that sort of service from “lovely people”.