If you mean fear of the confrontation with one's own mortality, then this allegedly is the primary challenge of midlife, as one's own death, and place in the universe changes rather dramatically, as parents become frail, die and children leave. And contemporaries start to die as well. 

 The days can seem more numbered and finite now, than a decade earlier where it seemed like there was plenty of time to do and have it all. At midlife, it seems that the recognition comes that this is pretty much who we will be for the rest of our lives. And this may be a good or bad or mixed reaction. But it is reality. 

 A Jungian would say that the immature Ego is transforming into the authentic Self, and that is the goal of the maturation process. So often the "death" faced at midlife is the death of the Ego and its demand to have power and control. The reward of midlife (or at whatever time in life this type of transition takes place) is the freedom and peace that comes with the authentically lived life. And again, only a trip deep into the Shadow allows this shift to take place. And the Shadow is the source of the fears and the anxieties, waiting to be uncovered and released as a creative flow of boundless energy.

 Meaning and mortality are the primary challenges of the 50's according to Gail Sheehy in her "New Passages. She also calls this the decade of going from the pits to the peaks, as these issues resolve.

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To wax philosophical here for a moment, though, I also believe that this is a good *time* (for me) to face up to my own mortality in ways I simply didn't need to when I was young. I think of it as one of the many spiritual jobs that need to be done at midlife in order to open the door to the *rest* of what I hope will be a long and productive life.

American culture isn't really good with death, so it's no wonder the thought frightens and depresses so many of us (my SO, who is 18 years my junior, simply *cannot* discuss the subject without going into a deep and fearful depression, and it makes him crazy when I try to talk about it.)  But here I am, with at least as much life behind me as I still have in front of me (realistically, I *can't* expect to live much past my 90s). So I want to make sure I'm ready for the *entire* trip that remains, including the destination. And then just get on with enjoying the journey.

  Flooding or a woozy, funky head feeling--take your pick.  At other times in my life, I'm not sure either of these things would have made me feel so depressed and frightened.  It's like my self-confidence about handling life is slipping.  I don't like it, I know that. 

 I do think this is part of the passage, for many of us. It may work for you to look those fears in the eye and try to understand them. Each of us, of course, has to do this in our own way.   --Pat Kight 

*Nod*. Over the past few years, I've made an effort to live *now,* and try not to dwell overmuch on the past or the future. Sometimes it means giving myself a figurative slap in the face and saying, "OK, sure, you've got a lot of stuff to do (next week, next month), but you need to *stop* going over and over it in your head and pay attention to what's happening right here, right now." 

When I'm working with actors, I spend a lot of time trying to get them to "be in the moment." This isn't some sort of spacy New age thing, but rather a very real shift of focus from "Omigod, what's my next line?" to listening, watching and reacting to what happens to them right *now*. It makes an observable difference in their performances.

I try hard to approach life in the same way. Sometimes I even succeed.  (Right now I am sitting at my computer, wearing my ratty but comfortable old bathrobe, noticing that the cup of coffee at my elbow is getting cold, and feeling the pinprick claws of my old cat, Jezebel, who is a warm weight on my lap and seems to be occupied kneading my left knee ...) 

I don't mean to say we shouldn't plan for the future. But *dwelling* on/in the future can, indeed, make it seem as if we're rushing down a tunnel.  Living in the present, making a conscious effort to fully experience what happens moment to moment, day to day, may not slow the rush, but it keeps me alive to the journey. 

Pat Kight