I’m back in Nashville.
I’m sitting at my kitchen counter, drinking MY coffee out of MY mug and feeling right at home. What an amazing experience the last two weeks have been. It gave me some time to reflect and sleep and eat and breathe.
This has been such a weird year. I’m grateful that amidst all of this chaos, I’ve been able keep a (mostly) positive perspective and focus on all the blessings in my life.
I woke up very early this morning. For some reason, I had a flashback of a time in Delray. I specifically remember a moment late at night, when I was sitting in my room writing an article. It was late and dark and I was listening to Deadmau5. I can’t recall exactly what I was writing about, but I vividly remember how I felt.
At the time, my blog was tiny. It was a whisper amongst screams. But to me, the very notion of hitting publish and the act of “putting my ideas into the world” was liberating.
This blank page provided me with an endless road of opportunity. Through the blank page, I finally started to believe that I could make something of myself, if I only had the courage to try. I dreamed of traveling and of being a writer and of finding a partner who would love me and accept me, despite my obsessive nature and my propensity to take risks.
10 years later, it all came true.
Jules is my best friend
People read my work
I get to write every day
I’ve gotten all the things I used to dream about, but I may have lost something along the way.
What could that be? What could be so valuable, so meaningful, and so worthy of pursuit that even with all of this abundance, it can leave me feeling wanting?
It could be that I have lost my beginners mind.
Thinking back to that moment in Delray, it’s not that I was happier then, it’s that I was more curious. Every day was like riding a new roller coaster for the first time. I went through life with my hands in the air, swinging and swaying joyfully as life flipped me and twisted me in every direction.
I accepted it, I embraced it, and I marveled at the future of unknown possibilities. Every day, I got on the roller coaster and I went along for the ride.
Over time, I started to build data points in my mind of expectations. I started to make internal calculations of what consequences I could experience due to taking certain actions.
“If I publish this article with this certain headline, I expect this many people will see it.”
“If I work for this many hours in exactly this way, I suspect I will see this kind of return.”
“If I do this thing, I will feel this good about myself.”
The illusion of control brings with it a reverse correlation of excitement. The more we can determine the future, the less our beginners mind can enjoy the ride. Everything comes at a cost, including certainty.
It’s not an adventure if you know what the ending will be. From now on, I promise to go on more adventures.