{"id":1737,"date":"2021-09-08T18:17:04","date_gmt":"2021-09-08T18:17:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/?p=1737"},"modified":"2021-09-08T18:17:04","modified_gmt":"2021-09-08T18:17:04","slug":"is-this-anything","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/?p=1737","title":{"rendered":"Is This Anything?"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

I was home a couple weeks ago when I noticed a book by Jerry Seinfeld on my dad\u2019s bedside table. I\u2019m very fond of Seinfeld despite not having watched his show nor stand-up very much. The book is titled, \u201cIs This Anything?\u201d and my dad explained that it\u2019s about Seinfeld\u2019s thought process. When he\u2019s coming up with a bit, he brings up the idea with friends and asks, \u201cIs this anything?\u201d e.g., \u201cWhat about a bit on how useless cotton balls<\/a> are to men? Is there anything there?\u201d and the friends will either confirm that there\u2019s something or reject it outright.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I often wonder, \u201cis this anything?\u201d when I\u2019m writing \u2013 on this blog or elsewhere. Writing is something I do for myself, so it shouldn\u2019t really matter if anything is there. Yet I\u2019m always implicitly writing with the hope that my words will resonate with someone, somewhere. That my words are something<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was this last spring that I first read Adam Grant\u2019s New York Times article<\/a> on languishing. I\u2019ve re-read it multiple times since. The idea of languishing is that you\u2019re not in the pit of depression nor flourishing; you\u2019re in the void in between. Unengaged, uninspired. I was languishing then and I\u2019m languishing still. I think Grant sums it up best when he says, \u201cyou\u2019re indifferent to your indifference.\u201d I can definitely say that I don\u2019t care about much these days, and that I don\u2019t care that I don\u2019t care.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As gloomy as this all sounds, I don\u2019t feel particularly gloomy. I just feel burned out. I\u2019m giving myself the grace just to be burned out and not push myself to do things I don\u2019t feel motivated to do. There\u2019s comfort in just acknowledging where you\u2019re at and not fighting it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the very least, I\u2019ve finally stopped despairing about some things that are simply not in my control. I can anguish about Afghanistan, the climate crisis, and COVID-19 all day long, but there\u2019s little I can concretely do about these things besides donate where I can, reduce, reuse, and recycle, and wear a mask in crowded spaces. I\u2019ve reached a point of \u201cnothing matters\u201d \u2013 not in a fatalistic way, but in a freeing way. I used to hem and haw over things as small as (or perhaps as big as), \u201cDo I order the $15 entr\u00e9e or the $11? I need to save to buy a house one day,\u201d and, \u201chow can I fit all of my climbing gear, breakfast, lunch, and work materials in a single backpack so I can ride my bike to work and save planet earth?\u201d At the end of the day, it doesn\u2019t matter. Spending a few more dollars on a dinner isn\u2019t going to matter, nor is riding to work instead of driving. Sure, the accumulation of these actions can make a difference, but not to the extent that I should constantly obsess about them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead, I\u2019m trying to direct my focus on the things that really do matter. One of them is family. While I was in Tokyo working for the US Olympic Committee, I felt this real urge to return home. I received news that one of my best friends had lost her mom to COVID and that one of my own family members had been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer. As an air travel coordinator, I also had to help a significant number of colleagues, athletes, and staff return to the States upon receiving their own news that their loved ones were either sick or had passed. It was a real reminder that life is short, and we don\u2019t know what time we have with each other. I wanted to spend my time with the people I love the most.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At home, I tried to decompress after a rewarding but incredibly taxing experience in Tokyo. After exerting the utmost resilience for months, I broke down in the strangest of ways just a couple days after arriving. It was late Sunday morning. My mom had returned from church and asked me if I wanted a slice of toast. I usually don\u2019t take her up on her offer. (I swear, my whole family seems to believe a slice of toast can cure all the world\u2019s ailments. I think toast is good, but not that <\/em>good.) But this time, I said yes. My mom\u2019s eyebrows went up ever-so-slightly as she responded, \u201cYeah? Butter and jam?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, please.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was just a simple slice of Dave\u2019s Killer Bread with Land O\u2019Lakes butter and my mom\u2019s homemade strawberry jam. But when I took a bite, I couldn\u2019t believe it. It was just so delicious. As I chewed, I started kicking myself for all of those times that I said \u201cno\u201d to a toast offering. The self-reprimand began transforming into pure sadness. When was the last time someone made me a piece of toast? God, it just feels so good to be cared for, after caring for myself this long.<\/em> Before I knew it, I was absolutely sobbing into my toast. Family matters.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Later that week, yet another reminder turned up. I was out on a longer run, a few miles from home. There was a newspaper in the middle of the road, clearly having not quite reached its intended driveway. As I approached it, I saw a Prius pull over about a hundred yards ahead of it and a man stepped out. From a distance, the man was the spitting image of my grandfather \u2013 who also used to own a Prius. A funny coincidence. But then the man started walking toward the newspaper to retrieve it, and the similarities grew. The man had the exact same stature and gait as my grandfather: around 6\u20194\u201d, shoulders stooped from having ducked under too many doorways throughout life, walking with a purposeful but calm stride. He was dressed just like my grandfather: white New Balances, khaki pants, a white button-down shirt. And when I passed him, I almost stopped dead in my tracks because his face and smile even matched his. Doc isn\u2019t here, <\/em>I reminded myself. He\u2019s in South Carolina. He just got back from Maine<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I watched the man return to his Prius and drive away. I was shaken. As a somewhat spiritual person, I couldn\u2019t help but feel this was a sign. What if something was wrong? I stopped running, pulled out my phone, and texted him. \u201cHey doc! How was Maine?\u201d It was an agonizing three hours before he finally responded. So began a text message exchange about COVID, the Olympics, and recent reads. An absolute relief, but once again, a reminder \u2013 when was the last time we had talked?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m finally back in Colorado after nearly two months away and it is wonderful to have returned. I\u2019m getting back to my hobbies, namely rock climbing, trail running, biking, and craft beer tasting. As much as I longed to be back, though, I\u2019ve come to realize that nothing really changed while I was gone. I spent so much time missing Colorado, but it was always here for me. I now see how foolish it was when, a week before returning home, I considered not going altogether. I had a mini-panic attack, thinking I simply needed <\/em>to get back to Colorado so I could settle down, re-establish my routine, and not live out of a suitcase any longer. I had to talk myself down from the mounting anxiety and remind myself how important it was that I go home and see my family. And I was right; not only did returning to Colorado as planned make no difference, I wouldn\u2019t have had that moment of crying into my toast, nor seeing my grandfather\u2019s doppelganger. I wouldn\u2019t have received the reminders I needed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So now what? Moving forward, I\u2019m just doing the things that I know I enjoy and not worrying about the rest. I run in the morning and climb in the evening. I watch Ted Lasso with my roommate. I cook and bake things. I drink a cup of coffee while reading a book on my balcony, overlooking Pikes Peak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m setting boundaries between my work and play better than I have the last three months. I\u2019m committed to not look at email before 8 a.m. nor after 5 p.m. I set up a monitor, keyboard, mouse, and swivel chair at a real desk at home, so I\u2019m no longer doing work at the kitchen table, on the couch, or in my bed. I\u2019m taking paid time off. I\u2019m being honest about my mental and emotional capacity with my coworkers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It doesn\u2019t mean that I\u2019m not languishing or burned out; I\u2019m just coping with those states of being in the ways I know how. Writing is one of those ways, and that\u2019s something.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I was home a couple weeks ago when I noticed a book by Jerry Seinfeld on my dad\u2019s bedside table. I\u2019m very fond of Seinfeld despite not having watched his show nor stand-up very much. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1737","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-ponderings"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1737","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1737"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1737\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1738,"href":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1737\/revisions\/1738"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1737"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1737"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/excrcl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1737"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}