I don't have to try

Impala babies easily learn to be impala adults. (Image by JamesDeMers)

My head is full of new experiences.

Rowing a boat for miles and miles under the hot sun. Sleeping under the stars. Eating fresh lettuce from the garden. Tying a double half hitch knot. Visiting towns I’ve never explored.

Strangely, I’m finding that I have less to write about these days, not more. I have little to say about the new places I’m going, new people I’m meeting, and new stuff I’m doing. Any new ideas are slowly warming in the rice cooker of my mind, inaccessible for now.

In a transition like this, it’s hard to even talk about what I already know and see. My assertions don’t feel quite right, like wearing a wardrobe of clothing purchased for a different climate. I am coming up with ideas—business ideas, life ideas—that feel like they belong ten years in the future or the past. The present is a moving target.

It’s liberating to unlink your identity from a particular pursuit. You don’t have to just be a musician or a marathoner or a mother. You don’t have to pin all of your hopes on one venture that perfectly represents you and the impact you want to have on the world. You can dabble and experiment and try on fresh perspectives.

This freedom to choose any course can help us to release ourselves from a narrow definition of success. Ironically, this can allow us to find more success. If we become detached from a particular outcome or role, there’s nothing holding us back.

However, as I’m discovering, if we go too far, there’s nothing holding us at all. The possibilities become infinite, and that’s a bit disorienting. Who do I want to be?

Spending too much time on existential questions is exhausting, so I mostly let it go. When the big questions get overwhelming, I ignore them. Instead of worrying about how I want to present myself, I put on the same old jeans and t-shirts. I don’t attempt to innovate—I follow the same workday schedule that I’ve been maintaining for the entire pandemic. I’m not trying to change. I know that I will move forward without having to try.

Day in and day out, it might appear that nothing is happening. I mean, most of my work consists of performing various functions on a laptop—it all looks the same. However, I know I’m changing and growing. I make a thousand tiny decisions, and without even realizing it I’m steering toward somewhere I’ve never been. It takes only a minute adjustment of the tiller to make it happen.

Even doing the same old things doesn’t mean I’m stagnating. I’m continuing on my path. Even as I’m sitting here, the earth is rotating on its axis and we’re all hurtling through space as we orbit around the sun. There is movement even in my stillness and expansion even in the maintenance of my routine.

I can push myself to recognize what the patterns are and what it all means, but I might not understand until much later. There’s a lot less angst if I just keep on course and deal with the current conditions. I don’t have to try to grow—I can’t stop it. Might as well have fun along the way. I’ll tell you more about it when I figure it out.