Choosing Simpler and Choosing Self: Cindy Lund’s Midlife Balance on Her Terms 

Some midlife stories hinge on drama. Cindy’s turns on a steady, insistent pull. A Galway-based psychotherapist who began as an artist, she retrained at 50, qualified in 2021 and, in her mid-fifties, chose to separate from her husband and create a permanent home after years of moving around. There were no villains. There was a feeling that surfaced once the childcare years eased.

Cindy’s version of success is not more clients, more income, more noise. It is peace, space and a simple week organised around work that matters and time that nourishes. She still helps others for a living.

Early creativity, early care

Cindy was meant to study science. Then she walked into an art college in London and felt instantly at home. Her parents were horrified, then supportive. A ceramics degree led to painting and a life as a decorative artist in Dublin through the 1990s. Creativity was never a side project. It was a way to move through the world.

Motherhood brought joy and difficulty. After her daughter was born she struggled with mental health, sought help and discovered complementary therapies. Interest became training. She qualified in complementary therapy and added another thread to her practice.

Fifty and the honest question

By 50, with her children moving into secondary school, Cindy faced a feeling that had flickered for years. She loved art, teaching and helping people, yet wanted a deeper framework that would hold those strands together. She considered art therapy, paused, and came back to the honest question: if I truly listen, what am I being asked to do?

She enrolled in psychotherapy training in 2017, committed to four demanding years and qualified in 2021 and set up practice. In the therapy room she could bring creativity, compassion and her own experience of challenge and recovery, then put it to work for someone else’s growth.

Psychotherapy became the career anchor. Art and writing remained creative loves. That distinction matters to her. Creativity fuels her. Therapy is the work.

The inflexion you cannot ignore

Between qualifying and 55, life shifted again. Her mother passed in 2019. The desire she had voiced for years to have a home of her own grew louder. The children were grown. In that quiet, the pull she had overridden became unmistakable.

Cindy describes it like this. “You have passed through airport security and find yourself in departures. You do not know the gate or the destination. You only know you cannot go back.”

Separation followed in 2023. It was sudden, tender and mutual. No drama, just acknowledgement of change. Pretty soon afterwards her dream house appeared for sale. Ten minutes from the sea. Thirty minutes walk to the village with everything she needs. It felt like alignment and ease and in June 2023 moved in. Some mornings she still pinches herself.

A week with air in it

Buying the house was not only about property but also of intent. Cindy would live simply, put down roots and build a week that protects the essentials: clinical hours, time for writing, an art class to teach, a garden to tend, walking to the village, cups of tea with neighbours, time to read.

She works part time on purpose. Culture shouts be useful, keep proving. Helping professions can turn that whisper into an obligation. More clients, more hours, more giving. Cindy recognises the voice, notices when it tugs her away from herself, and chooses differently. Clients benefit from a therapist who is present and resourced. She benefits from a life with air in it. The two are not at odds.

“I know this is right. I don’t want to miss a day.”

Writing moved from wish to practice last winter. She joined a craft course and finished a book. If it is never published, that's OK. The point was finishing, learning and allowing herself the joy of making. Teaching art class lets her hand that feeling to others. “We are all creative,” she says.

The load no one sees

Threaded through Cindy’s story is a truth many women recognise. Even when both partners work, the mental list often nests on one set of shoulders. Childcare rotas. Dentist appointments. Shopping. School emails. In her earlier years Cindy absorbed that load, and like many, struggled to feel fully entitled to big family financial decisions because she was not the main earner. That made the sentence “I want a home” both simple and brave.

There is also a wider reality she sees in clients every week. The no-win trap of being at work feeling guilty about home, and at home feeling guilty about work. Many would like part-time hours they cannot afford. Cindy’s choice to slow the wheel is not a luxury play. It is a values play.

Living what you teach

Many of Cindy’s clients arrive caught in the grind. They ask how to get off. She knows the answer is not a single hack. It is a sequence. Notice the pressure. Make a little space. Put words to what you value. Protect that in your diary and decisions. The work is ordinary and radical at once.

Because she is practising it, her guidance is practical. She does not preach minimalism or offer a neat plan to serenity. She models alignment. That is more credible and more helpful.

Redefining, not retirement

Ask Cindy about retirement and she smiles. There is no line where work stops and life starts. There is a curve. She hopes to keep practising as a therapist for as long as she is sharp and useful. Writing will not stop. Painting will not stop. Gardening will not stop. If anything, the balance may tilt further toward these in time, not as a withdrawal from purpose but as a continuation of it.

Notes from the gate

If you are standing in departures, unsure of the gate, here are principles that emerged from Cindy’s story.

Know yourself. Be OK with the shape of that knowledge
List your strengths and your honest limits. Aim for work that uses the first and does not constantly provoke the second. You do not need to become a different person to be valuable.

Check the system, not just the job
Sometimes you are not failing. The structure is failing you. Ask about culture, power and support before you step in.

Make space, even if it is small
A weekend retreat. A day off the kitchen rota. Two early mornings for writing. Space is where alignment is heard.

Give yourself permission
To work part-time. To spend a Tuesday having coffee or at a pottery class. To write a book for no one but you. To value peace without apology.

Notice the pull.
It may not arrive as a plan. It may be a felt sense that becomes clearer with quiet. You may not know the destination yet. You may still know you cannot go back.

Editor’s Reflection

What I admire most about Cindy’s story is its steadiness. Courage here is not loud. She did not throw everything in the air. She listened. She studied. She finished. She bought a house. She built a week. She made a life. It is tempting to idolise big swings and ignore the quiet work of aligning reality with values. Cindy’s life reminds us that midlife can be less about reinvention and more about recalibration. Less about acceleration and more about exhaling and giving yourself permission, with courage.

You can contact Cindy via her website Cindy Lunn.