How to Determine What You Need More of in Life
I can't even count how many parties I've attended that I absolutely did not want to attend.
Hundreds, to be sure.
My wife, Elle, loves parties and gatherings - and I once did - but sobriety and age have caused me to overvalue solitude and undervalue new experiences with others.
I can recall countless moments standing with Elle on the front lawn of a home we're about to enter. We're dressed up and the windows are aglow, revealing laughing people inside. Yet, I'm hoping she'll suddenly decide to abort the mission because she has a headache - or that the host discovers a (non-lethal) gas leak and the party gets canceled.
This rarely happens, and into the house we must go. Hours pass, the crowd dwindles, and later as we're driving home, begrudgingly, I always feel something I did not feel before we entered the party.
I feel a sense of belonging. I feel lightness in my spirit. I remember I like people and that you don't have to be amazing at parties, you just need show up, listen to a stranger, and ask them questions about their life. Without fail, I'll whisper aloud as we make our way homeward, passing beneath the sherbet glow of sleepy streetlights, "I'm glad we went."
This post-event-I-dreaded revelation is not exclusive to parties.
It happens after exercise, after sitting down to write and publish these weekly essays, cooking a healthy meal, walking the dogs, calling a loved one, taking a trip, paying someone a visit, asking for help, and on and on.
After each of the above activities - and let me remind you, these are all things I initially feel resistance toward doing - there's a release of endorphins and a return to awareness.
Oh yes, I like how I feel after going on a walk...
I love catching up with old friends...
I'm so glad I went to my high school reunion...
Wouldn't it be nice if we were able to, once and for all, program our brains to remember what is good for us, and to act accordingly? How great would it be to not only know what enriches and adds meaning to our lives, but to unequivocally enjoy those things as well?
Alas - this is not our fate.
For some reason or another, humans are just plain bad at remembering what makes for a good life and choosing to behave in a way that begets better living.
I have no business trying to make sense of why this is, so I won't.
But I will tell you that yesterday I smiled at the end of the run that I didn't want to go on. Rain began to fall around me as rounded the corner approaching our house. I hated nearly all of that run, but it left me a little freer than I was just 30 minutes (who are we joking, it was 20 minutes, OK?) before.
And before that run I spent 45 minutes catching up on the phone with a dear friend. Prior to the conversation, I recall wishing I could have the afternoon to myself to catch up on work - but immediately upon hanging up I thought, my goodness, I'm so lucky to have the friends I have.
I'm learning it is how we feel at the end of things that must direct our lives, not our feelings before.
What are the activities, relationships and experiences that wake up something inside of you, causing you to return home abuzz and wide-eyed, mumbling to yourself, why do I keep forgetting how much I enjoy ____________________?
These are the things for which we must make room.
These are the life-giving moments a good life contains.
I wonder what you might choose to prioritize if your future self (the one smiling at the end of that thing you didn't want to do) could remind your present self what matters most?
I'd love to know.