Last week during a post-dinner good-bye, I was shocked to learn that the end of the year is nigh. No, not nigh, here. The realization came when a friend mentioned our annual holiday party. What? How is it already time? It feels like it just happened. Where did the year go? I then squandered five more days trying to analyze why this year raced past me.
Entering 2023, I set several goals to support a more intentional and conscientious lifestyle. Here were some of them:
As I take stock of outcomes, I can say I mostly met my goals. And in the process (with the help of a career coach who was also part of my 2023 goals) I found clarity around my values and sense of purpose. It was a full year, but why doesn’t it feel like it?
I unexpectedly found my answer while listening to an interview with Paul Millerd, author of The Pathless Path. In this conversation, Paul shares personal stories and anecdotes about taking detours along the conventional “job-marriage-house-kids” path. For people who wonder whether there’s something better than the conventional path, Paul recommends taking time away from the routine (anything from three hours to three months), to do what they love and observe how they feel.
“You're really just creating this space to get in touch with, how do I get to know myself more? Are there things that I've lost touch with that really bring me alive?”
My 2023 goals were focused on setting foundations for the future, re-instating habits that were slipping, and going further down the path I’m already on. But in creating these goals, I inadvertently constrained myself. With goals centered around convention and delayed gratification, I didn’t give myself space to explore and pay attention to myself.
Paul ends by sharing the motto he lives by:
“[I focus] on coming alive over getting ahead. That's something I keep coming back to. I'm skeptical of chasing achievement, and I use this to remind myself that it is about that personal energy versus extrinsic outcomes.
I'm very convinced from my own life experience that the extrinsic outcomes aren't going to do a ton for me. Sure, I need to make enough money. But when I'm in extended states of feeling alive and connected to everything I'm doing in my life, that's [where I thrive].”
His motto struck something deep inside me: Extrinsic outcomes don’t do a ton for me either. I need to be asking myself what brings me alive.
A new dog just moved in to the house behind mine, and we share a fence. When he goes into his backyard and starts barking, my dog forgets whatever she was doing—even if she’s eating the most delicious peanut butter snack—and sprints to the shared fence. She’s wiggling her butt and kicking up dirt and barking her face off in a cacophony that communicates something between wanting to play and wanting to defend her territory at all costs. When this happens (and very much to the chagrin of my neighbors), nothing I say and no treat I offer can break my dog’s trance. When she’s in the aura of backdoor neighbor dog, my dog is lost in the moment, truly and fully alive.
When I heard Paul describe coming alive, I immediately thought of my dog “greeting” neighbor dog. But what about me? Struggling to come up with recent examples of what makes me feel alive, I turned the question to a few friends.
No two responses were the same, but they all had a similar theme. We feel alive when we’re in the moment. Without worry about the past or future, without forcing meaning onto the moment. One friend pointed out to me that aliveness is distinct from feelings of joy or gratitude. Feeling alive is childlike. Feeling alive is carefree. Feeling alive is adventurous. It’s unplanned. It’s unexpected. And also, it is what life is all about.
Inspired by these responses, I’d offer “last week, when I was sprinting on the track” as my answer. When I’m sprinting there is no thinking. I let go. My body does the moving while the wind cools my face. Refreshing. Maybe not life-giving, but life-reminding. When I’m sprinting I feel like a kid again.
Along with her response, another friend pointed me to a Thanksgiving-themed letter by Suleika Jaouad that references this very same question. Suleika introduces us to Ezra Bookman, who discusses the power of questions, and the importance of asking the right ones.
“A question is more than just a way to fill silence. It is the recognition that every person is infinite, that even your closest loved ones are never fully knowable. Questions are the clothes of curiosity and smoke signals for empathy. A good question is our humble response to the impossible mystery of another human being.
When we ask the “wrong” question, like “what do you do?” we end up at a dead-end. These types of questions don’t offer an expansive view of a person. They don’t invite us to learn more about them.
How might we not just spend time, but savor time?
My answer: a good question. That’s why for the last two years, I’ve shared seven better questions than “What are you grateful for?” to ask at Thanksgiving—questions like “Where have you felt most alive this past year?”
To make the most of time with others, Ezra encourages us to pose expansive questions.
I’d go further and say that to make the most of our own time, we also need to be asking expansive questions of ourselves. I spent my year asking myself, “What am I doing?” and “What do I want to do?” These are dead-end questions, or at most, intellectual contemplations. They result in reflections, notes, and perhaps a few interesting conversations with others. But to step into my power and thrive, I need to be asking myself, “What makes me feel alive today? How soon can I do that again?”
If I did, I’d likely spend more time writing. I’d encourage myself to do more travel and camping trips. I’d spend my days addressing systemic issues that I care deeply about. These activities create the environments where I feel most alive.
What makes you feel really alive? Name it. Celebrate it. Invite it into your life as much as possible (hopefully it does not involve barking at the neighbor’s dog). As for me, I’ll start by clicking “Send to everyone now” on this newsletter.
Have you been thinking about this too? Do you have a similar (or different) perspective? Start a conversation with Ro and the Unabridged Ro community or share this letter with a friend.
Insightful article
Enjoyed it.
- Jayashree
love this!!!