But most of us now operate in a knowledge economy, where productivity is not measured quantitatively but by creative output. And one of the best ways to generate creative ideas is to learn and synthesize valuable skills and concepts that other people in your domain don’t yet know. In a knowledge economy, learning across diverse interests and competencies and then applying your insights to your core specialty — in other words, becoming a modern polymath — is what actually separates you from the pack.
My serious relationships, all monogamous and faithful, have always ended in emotionally unpleasant codependency. I would either ratchet up the intensity too high and overstep my boundaries when paired with an avoidant lover, (yup, we’re linking to this again), or — more often — I would instinctively seek out an anxious attacher because I grew up thinking this was how people showed you that they loved you. I’d always become the crane — growing increasingly ill or flying away when the other got too close. By analyzing my nights spent forging breathless, no-strings-attached connections with people, I began to realize that this was, in a peculiar way, how love should be. Two independent people who enjoy each other’s company, share things with each other, and safely maintain a sense of autonomy throughout the process of sinking into each other’s orbit — two planets orbiting the same sun together, instead of one planet crashing into another, leaving both damaged.