Lately, I’m finding some kind of hope, focus, and maybe even faith in the idea that we can grow immensely when we don’t know the outcome of any given situation.
While on one hand it seriously drives me bananas when I lose control of the narrative (otherwise known as the illusion of control), there’s great comfort in knowing that the ellipses of life inevitably presents us with ways to learn, expand, and have rich experiences we could never plan for.
Take Covid. My wife Moore and I were living in a one-bedroom in West Hollywood right before all this shit happened. Our plan was to move back to the East coast after she retired—which would have been a minimum of five more years at that time—and then perhaps start to look into options to make our home net zero. I remember feeling very antsy with the idea that I was in this holding pattern since my baseline is usually to try to get that next thing to happen.
I’ve long been living in the future.
Future-tripping
And then life kind of turned upside-down, Moore’s job became remote, and before we knew it, we were fast-tracking that plan. This is most certainly something we could not have predicted.
Tomorrow is our third wedding anniversary; three years since we headed to Vegas to say our nuptials with the help of our dog Lucy and the King himself—Elvis. It’s hard to believe that two-thirds of our marriage has been in Covid-times, and I can only hope that the chaotic moments that were brought to you by the pandemic will be fewer and farther between than they’ve been these past couple of years.
And yet, I’m writing this from my sleeper porch just off of my office that boasts a hot pink wall. My soulmate dog, Birdie—whom we adopted during Covid, thanks to that moment when the shelters were in desperate need of people to adopt the darlings—is squished beside me, as close as one could possibly get without being another limb.
None of these things could have been predicted, yet they are all so familiar to me now.
2:22 on 2/22/22
I wanted to write about this today for anyone who needs a reminder that there are so many possibilities and (not to sound too woo) gifts in the unknown and in the reroutes.
And, frankly, I write this as a reminder to me, too. There is so much lately that I am keenly aware I don’t have control of, and the process of letting go of the illusion of control is a bit disorienting.
But it can also be exciting, or at least relieving. In this real-life version of “choose your own adventure” books, it’s heartening to remember that I don’t need to know (or even write) the ending.
As I write this, 2:22 pm just passed—notably, on 2/2/22. Since I had set an alarm for myself, I stopped what I was doing long enough to get clear on my intention to have more patience, find more joyful moments, and let go more easily.
It felt poignant to find that clarity internally and send it outward, especially during such a special palindrome day—and plus, 2 has always been my good luck number. Numerologists say that the number 2 is connected to harmony, compassion, and acceptance, which I will choose to believe.
The wind blows
Numerology and Wicca-adjacent issues aside, there is value in remembering that we can choose to let go more, sit in that uncomfortable pause, and recognize that good will inevitably come from the way the wind blows.
So much of my sadness lately has been connected to not knowing what the outcome will be: whether that book will sell, when that project will move forward, how long it will take for my savings account to make me feel comfortable again. Being patient sometimes feels completely impossible, somehow almost like I’m giving up.
But there’s a difference between giving up and letting go.
This morning, I read an article in the NY Times entitled, “Yale’s Happiness Professor Says Anxiety is Destroying Her Students.” In it, cognitive scientist Laurie Santos describes why so many of us struggle with being happier. She says:
Our minds lie to us. We have strong intuitions about the things that will make us happy, and we use those intuitions to go after that stuff, whether it’s more money or changing circumstances or buying the new iPhone. But a lot of those intuitions, the science shows are not exactly right — or are deeply misguided. That’s why we get it wrong. I know this stuff, but my instincts are totally wrong. After a busy day, I want to sit and watch crappy Netflix TV shows, even though I know the data suggests that if I worked out or called a friend I’d be happier. But to do that I have to fight my intuition. We need help with that, and you don’t get it naturally, especially in the modern day. There’s an enormous culture around us of capitalism that’s telling us to buy things and a hustle-achievement culture that destroys my students in terms of anxiety.
She also says that people who experience more gratitude exhibit more self-regulation. And though I’m admittedly not great at keeping a gratitude journal, I think that remembering the gifts available to us today—which came from the possible mayhem of yesterday—is an important part of gratitude.
And, hopefully, of finding more joy. I’ll let you know how that goes for me.
A different way
Remembering the opportunities we get from the unfolding of life also helps me tolerate (and even make sense of) the parts of my life that are not moving forward as speedily as I had wanted.
I hope you find hope in this somehow, and community in knowing that we are in this together—fighting those pesky time-suckers and thought-stealers and energy-zappers, most of which exist within the confines of our very own minds.
What if there were a different way?
xo,
jazz