Stripped Down.
During the pandemic, we have heard platitude after platitude. The number of articles of what we should learn or think or do differently to not lose our minds has been numbing. From the collective trauma of the health crisis to the election to all the masses of injustice, it is safe to say we are all exhausted. Okay, I won’t speak for everyone, but I am so very tired from the external inputs.
Lately, I wake up after a full night of sleep, go about my day, and still find myself mentally drained. I recognize that I am planning a wedding and the monotony of work from home can become a bit maddening, but still I have sat and wondered why this is happening. Maybe it is due to being inundated by news, charts, grief, debates, etc. Maybe it is new caretaking responsibilities or a shift in environment. Maybe it’s being scared. The one thing that has never left my mind is how stripped down and naked we all are.
The vices that once were, are no longer. We can’t go to a crowded bar. Live sports, no longer an option. You don’t dress up to impress, you live in sweats. Those airline points are useless and expired. Family gatherings aren’t filled with hugs and energy, only mute buttons and a laptop screen.
With all the distractions of life taken, with all the noise gone, what has remained?
You and only you. That is what is left. A constant state of you.
This idea has haunted my brain for the majority of the pandemic, in the best way something can “haunt you,” I guess. A couple months into last year, I found myself more stressed, more tired, and more manic than ever. On the surface, not much had changed. I had my fiance and a dog and a Monday through Friday job and a home. What quickly came to be very obvious was the lack of vices. No dinners out, no in-person belly laughs or genuine cries, no loudness. The loudness was gone and the foundation of “me” was noisier than before.
As a fan of self-reflection and introspection, this wasn’t the worst thing. I’m sure others would disagree that they want their vices back terribly. To them, I would say avoidance won’t solve your problems. To me, this stripping down was the most beautiful thing that could have possibly happened. I thought about trauma and forgiveness and leisure and control and habits and projection and stillness and why everything was the way it was, and why it was the case for me personally. It was both terrifying and necessary. It was annoying and healthy. It still is.
Vices and distractions gone, it was just you. It was just me. In isolation, we thought and thought and thought with no way out. Was this good for you? Was it uncomfortable and weird for you? Either side you land on, I would argue that it’s never something I want to forget or stray from again.
For enneagram fans, this comes at no surprise. I am a 4 wing 3. This comes naturally to me as my natural state. But for those that found this process unbearable and challenging, I would ask you to find your silver lining: what is something you learned about yourself? What is something you won’t do again? Other than “the daily walk” we have all come to love, what is new and stuck on you?
Below are the three biggest things I have learned. I have thought about them the most. They have become daily choices and conversations I choose to engage with and hope to never let slip. I am stripped down to a new level of vulnerability, which is my greatest strength.
1) There is a bridge between your origin story and the vision of how you want to live your life and you must decide how to fill the gap. We all have an origin story. It is compiled of the key messages you heard or were taught or lived out over and over. They are part of you. Your parents teaching you hard work over everything, only watching sports, family meals, lack of parenting figure, a traumatic friend experience, infidelity, not sharing your true emotions, competition. Every single one is different, but it's how you are you today.
This origin story makes you show up in a certain way to every aspect of life. For me, I am restless and focused on what’s next and value achievement over anything else. This conflicts with my vision for how I want to live my life: a new path, no standards of climbing or accomplishment, feeling emotions strongly, letting go, living in the moment.
The next step here, which the pandemic has given me time to ponder, is how do I bridge these two? What do I need to let go of? When I am later in life, or on my death bed, how did I create my own life versus falling into one that I never wanted? How do I balance the gratitude I have for my origin story with the desire to change my story? What do I need to release as gospel?
2) Relationships are so very challenging but also so simple. The idea of being in a partnership for LIFE is just crazy, right? One human, there with you, forever. You share a million meals and travel places and feel things and touch each other and support and brush your teeth and do chores a lot. It gets messy as shit because we are messy people. We have baggage and natural personality types that make this union a tough road. Miscommunication, misalignment, mis-anything happens often.
However, the big realization I have come to is that it all comes down to a simple choice: to choose the other person or not choose them. Actions can force your choice. You can cheat or leave or amicably split, but it all comes down to a choice. I wake up and actively choose Ryan. I choose to love him in doing the dishes and walking the dog and taking care of myself so I can be a whole being in this partnership. You both make the choice. Ryan and I have realized just how complicated our web of “family stuff” and personality types are but also how simple our tension and conflict can be solved by communication and simple choices. It’s a choice, but as crazy flesh robots, we mess it all up. Make your choice.
3) Knowing your priorities and what is important to you can not only change, but helps find the root of your motivation (and even your career).
I used to think I was on such a strong path. I knew how to climb, what I wanted, and where that path would lead. Even the word path now makes me cringe. The pandemic rid me of an office, coworkers, commute, and all that was left was the work. And I hated it. My origin story told me I needed to care about the path. Now I am not even sure I could describe any pathway, although society likes to tell us a career trajectory is important. I see it more as one of those old-school screensaver boxes that would bounce around the screen, turning course, gathering experience and privilege and opportunity and luck and energy and timing and pivoting all over the place.
Why am I doing this? Of all the factors, what is important to me? What are the top two? To relate it to the simple choice of the relationship, it really is that easy. I shifted my entire career, lost 11 direct reports, and followed my resonance of a new industry and energy to follow. It was the best decision I ever made because I recognized what I really wanted wasn’t what I wanted really. It was for the wrong reasons. Now I am the box on the screensaver, bouncing all over following my energy and changing course.
You have to know your why.
We have all experienced the stripping down/emotional skinny-dip that was this past year. We still moved and achieved and did some things, the best we could. But the collective “sitting in ourselves” is undeniable. I don’t have any sage advice because I am a 29 year old dude just trying to make sense of it, accept it, learn from it all. I have my good days and bad days but the good outweigh the bad. I hope you can find solace, whoever you are, reading this and knowing that someone else is bare too. I am thankful for the vices taking a break.
I am appreciative for the things I have learned. I am still tired, but I want to keep going.
What have you learned that you will never ever forget?
