🔗 Share this article

I seek out wisdom from others about handling middle-aged struggles, including philosophical reflections, diminishing importance, noticing one’s neck resembling a melted timepiece and a newfound passion regarding sunny relocation programs. Lately, I read his remarks on turning 50 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. “Just be with lovely people. I’m avoiding negative people – ‘mood hoovers’ – and getting better at saying no.”

Initially, I wondered: doesn’t this conflict between “avoiding negative people” and “getting better at saying no”? Might that suggest he must escape his own nature? I get it – such remarks define us negative types, and yes, I’m one of them. However, among our group, we favor the term “energy drainer”. 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. Despite a whole self-help-inspired trend urging people to get rid of friends who “drain” them, I’d argue we offer real value. 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”.