When it comes to holidays, I have a special spot in my heart for Christmas, and while it's mostly because of the white twinkle lights and our tradition of eating birthday cake for breakfast (Happy Birthday Jesus!), there happens to be one single gift that I look forward to all year, every year, with hope that it'll be everything I knew I needed, or everything I didn't know I wanted, but now know I do. This gift is none other than a conversation with my brilliant Uncle Dan. I don't have enough free-user blogspace to tell you the intriguing life story of this particular uncle of mine or even begin to scratch the surface of everything I've learned from him, but I can, however, share with you that which I took away from our 15-minute-or-less Christmas 2016 convo.
Our talk touched on a few topics, but "being lost" was the main theme, and his views on being lost impressed me because of how raw and honest they were. This concept of "lostness" has always captured my attention, purely for the fact that I have a different experience with lostness than others. I like being lost. Most hate it. I think being lost is a good thing. Most think it's a bad thing. I think lostness is crucial to foundness. Many would disagree. But regardless, as someone who self-identifies as "lost" and is often referred to by others as "lost", I was all ears when he brought it up.
And aside from speaking about something I cared about, he spoke my language: analogy.
Our talk touched on a few topics, but "being lost" was the main theme, and his views on being lost impressed me because of how raw and honest they were. This concept of "lostness" has always captured my attention, purely for the fact that I have a different experience with lostness than others. I like being lost. Most hate it. I think being lost is a good thing. Most think it's a bad thing. I think lostness is crucial to foundness. Many would disagree. But regardless, as someone who self-identifies as "lost" and is often referred to by others as "lost", I was all ears when he brought it up.
And aside from speaking about something I cared about, he spoke my language: analogy.
Suppose someone is lost in the woods. When they're clearly lost, but saying to themselves, "I'm not lost", that is indeed when they are the most lost.When they say to themselves, however, "Yep, I'm definitely lost", only then will they take the appropriate actions to becoming found.
This brings me to this idea that while lostness is inevitable at times, lostness gone unacknowledged will consistently keep you lost and actually make you lost-er than you already were. No amount of convincingness can turn genuine lostness into an illusion. No amount of deciding that "there IS no question" can serve as an answer to your lostness.
I'll be the first to tell you that I'm lost on so many things in my life, ranging from the big questions ("what's the value of my life to this world?") to the small questions ("why can't I convince myself to like yogurt?"). And after this conversation with my uncle, I'm starting to understand why I took a liking to lostness. I'm seeing that amidst any moment (or prolonged chapter) of lostness, we always have two choices: (1) Tell ourselves we aren't lost, or (2) tell ourselves we are. The first choice will keep us lost and simaltaneously hand the power over to the questions we honestly have, but are attempting to make dissapear. The second choice puts us in a place to begin understanding our questions, searching for answers, and pioneering a path to becoming found.
When you're that guy (or I'm that guy) who's lost in the woods (or your career, or your major, or your commitments, or a location, or a habit, or a relationship) and you're telling yourself, "I'm not lost"... unfortunately, we are. But the way I see it, "lostness" can be graphed on a spectrum, and if everyone's true goal is to become found, than there is a seemingly correct approach to lostness, and a seemingly stupid one as well. With "lost" on the left and "found" on the right, we'll have to move through each step, moving rightward in sequence, to find ourselves of the point of foundness, right? And if the goal is to get there, we're only taking the long way by ever telling ourselves (or other people) that "I'm not lost". We're adding an additional step to the process of becoming found, and one that has the power to push us very far in the very wrong direction.
I'll be the first to tell you that I'm lost on so many things in my life, ranging from the big questions ("what's the value of my life to this world?") to the small questions ("why can't I convince myself to like yogurt?"). And after this conversation with my uncle, I'm starting to understand why I took a liking to lostness. I'm seeing that amidst any moment (or prolonged chapter) of lostness, we always have two choices: (1) Tell ourselves we aren't lost, or (2) tell ourselves we are. The first choice will keep us lost and simaltaneously hand the power over to the questions we honestly have, but are attempting to make dissapear. The second choice puts us in a place to begin understanding our questions, searching for answers, and pioneering a path to becoming found.
When you're that guy (or I'm that guy) who's lost in the woods (or your career, or your major, or your commitments, or a location, or a habit, or a relationship) and you're telling yourself, "I'm not lost"... unfortunately, we are. But the way I see it, "lostness" can be graphed on a spectrum, and if everyone's true goal is to become found, than there is a seemingly correct approach to lostness, and a seemingly stupid one as well. With "lost" on the left and "found" on the right, we'll have to move through each step, moving rightward in sequence, to find ourselves of the point of foundness, right? And if the goal is to get there, we're only taking the long way by ever telling ourselves (or other people) that "I'm not lost". We're adding an additional step to the process of becoming found, and one that has the power to push us very far in the very wrong direction.
Somewhere along the way, someone taught me that being lost was ok when it was accompanied by the honest statement of "Yep, I'm lost." Perhaps that's why I'm an advocate for lostness. People can spend there entire life lost in the woods, telling themselves they aren't (I've seen it - I bet we all have), but the people who are quick to say "I am lost" will be on their way to foundness and fulfillment.
Moral of the story here: choose lostness instead of ignore it. It's proactive and it's productive. And with a New Year around the corner, there's never been a better time to try out the new strategy.
I wasn't particularly looking for a place to start, but happened to stumble across one that's worth sharing. There's a great new Netflix documentary out about Minimalism as a lifestyle, and the way that lostness, meaning, and minimalism fit into the same equation. I encourage everyone to watch it, and then watch it a second time right before you pack your suitcases for a big move (it worked for me).
Moral of the story here: choose lostness instead of ignore it. It's proactive and it's productive. And with a New Year around the corner, there's never been a better time to try out the new strategy.
I wasn't particularly looking for a place to start, but happened to stumble across one that's worth sharing. There's a great new Netflix documentary out about Minimalism as a lifestyle, and the way that lostness, meaning, and minimalism fit into the same equation. I encourage everyone to watch it, and then watch it a second time right before you pack your suitcases for a big move (it worked for me).
FEEL GOOD MOMENTS OF THE WEEK (MORE LIKE MONTH):
- Thought I was going out for dinner with two good friends, but was brought home to a house full of a bunch of my favorite people, thoughtful goodbye presents, and a nutritional dinner of Buff Chic Dip & Chocolate cake.
- Picked up a shift at City Streets, not estimating how tired I'd be by the end of the week. I was running very low on energy until a large group of old, well/weirdly-dressed gym rats started caroling right from their seats.
- Spent a wonderful few evenings with my sister's friends. There's almost nothing I love more (that's a lie, I love so much) than hanging out with a group of people wildly different from you, especially when it comes to age.
- Took a tour of my childhood best friend's new house. We're almost appalingly different, but I find her so capable and so brilliant. She even made cookies. Total champ.
- Christmas morning, my mom and sister and I sat around our tiny little light-up fiberoptic tree handing out the couple intentional and creative gifts that we'd gotten each other. We were all so stoked to pass them out because we were confident in the great job that we had done. We had a little moment of reflection on how far we'd come, from the kids who weren't happy on Christmas morning if we didn't see a box as big as last year's air hockey table, to the kids who now saw this day to be about giving. Ever since, I've been asking people what they gave for christmas as opposed to what they got.
- A few posts back, I talked about feedback, and then a few posts later, I talked about risk. I recieved a feedback e-mail which included a poem entitled "Risk", and it absolutely made my week. Read it! It's so true.
- Spent some quality time with one of my fav's, Miss Swaggy Egner. We power moved it and went ice skating in Boston in crazy cold weather, got jumped in line by a family of 32 fiesty italians, had two dead phones and no way of contacting our ride back home, and still had a lovely night (chicken nuggets included).
- Enjoyed one last goodbye dinner with my ResLife Mom & Dad (a.k.a Justin & Liz).
- Caught up (in person) with an abroad friend (Mary), over text with an abroad friend (Kipps), and over a middle of the night facetime call from Vienna to help with crafting projects (Michelle & Kyle). Life is funny.
Thanks for reading. Be back next week to reflect on my few months in Waltham and share the updates about my first few days in Miami! If anyone wants to drive me to the airport on New Year's Day, I will not be mad :)