Some people seem to be born with a deep understanding of what works for them; for others, time gives us an education in ourselves. It would seem that one of the great missions in our lives is to become clear on what works for us, to know what makes us happy, and then, just as important, to act on this knowledge. Know thyself, says the wise man. I spent the first 20 years of my life oscillating between boredom and boredom-induced depression. It was all I knew. Then, slowly, a bigger life came into view. This took considerable time, decades in fact; having grown up in a small farm town, my lack of imagination of what was out there in the world, what was possible, was immense.
That town, the people I grew up with, and my family could have been idyllic for someone else, but for me, it was a box, only I hadn’t yet figured out there was life outside of it. The red thread that connects my life since then, and continues to lead me, is growth. Some people like money, some people like to stay how they are, some people are all about serenity. For me, it’s about asking: Does this thing make me feel better about myself? Am I growing? If one needs a monomania, this is a pretty good one. Which is why I can’t handle television—it fills me with an intolerable combination of boredom and anxiety. White Lotus lasted maybe 30 seconds for me. (This is not to call out this show in particular; the whole genre just doesn’t work for me.)
It is important to not only know what works for you, but then to act on it. I love gardening, and most outdoor activities, but this time of year they are not so accessible, so gym deadlifts are what keep me happy. So does reading, learning, having hyper switched-on people over for dinner. These are about me upping the bar for me. Doing the opposite makes me feel yucky about myself. Destroying a bag of Oreos while binge watching a streaming show is not it for me. But this is me. For someone else—and I know some very high-functioning people like this—binging may be their ticket to serenity. My drive probably comes from some deep feeling of inadequacy hardwired in childhood. Whatever. It is who I am, and I work with it. My question to you is: Do you know what really works for you, have you dared tell yourself what that is, and then, do you dare to act on it? The word dare is used here as it took me a very long time to acknowledge to myself who I was and what I needed when the world around me was telling me I should be something else. Daring to be who you truly are, owning it, and then walking that path—this is what wisdom looks like.
Onward and upward,
David
