Decide What To Be and Go Be It
I lifted the above title from an Avett Brothers song: “Head Full Of Doubt, Road Full Of Promise.” The song is as catchy and hyper-positive as the rest of the Avett catalogue, but boil it down to its roots and you’re left with a sermon as simple as it is challenging: Hey you! You can do anything! But you have to actually, you know, go do it.
That’s an easy concept to grasp, and tough instruction to follow. My fingers can crumple a photograph of Mount Everest, but I would probably die trying to climb it.
Recently I’m discovering that all of my actions have consequences. Very little or maybe none of what I do is neutral — I’m pulling myself in one direction, or pushing myself the other. Right now I am drinking a beer, and it’s making me fatter. My brain activity is slowing, and although my creativity experienced a momentary spike, it has long since unspiked itself. My liver is unhappy. What I really want to do is close my laptop, pop downstairs, and lounge on the couch. Maybe I’ll browse Twitter on my iPad, or maybe I’ll watch a couple episodes of Arrested Development. I just want to lounge. Thanks, beer.
But lest you think I am some kind of preposterously lazy sloth-man, I’ll have you know I’ve recently started running. An incredible feat, I know. What a trooper. What an inspiration. Okay — it’s nothing crazy — but I’ve been running three days a week for the last six weeks, and I’m getting better at it. For a guy who has never seriously followed any exercise regimen in his entire life, this is worth a minor celebration. I enjoy the endorphin rush, and overall I have substantially more energy than I had a month ago. Thanks, running!
Final example: I want to be more generous. But I’ve found it difficult to actually be more generous. I recently drove with some friends to Portland’s Voodoo Doughnuts at the inane hour of 3 in the morning. I got out of the car and headed towards the door; on the way there a man in tattered clothes quietly asked if I had any cash. I might have said no, or maybe I didn’t answer. I don’t remember. I do remember reaching the door and pulling the handle. I slipped inside. Lost in the saccharine fragrance of oil and sugar, I bought myself a maple-coated old-fashioned. I ate it. Delicious. Then I drove home.
The thing is, Voodoo Doughnuts is cash only. I had cash on me. I could have given the man a dollar. I could have bought him a doughnut. When it’s daytime and my ambitions are anchored to the sun, I point my nose there and proclaim to the world that I want to be a generous man. But when faced with the opportunity to give, to do the actual thing I supposedly value so highly… I buy myself a doughnut. It was an innocent decision, but instead of becoming more generous I became more doughnut-ous. Bummer.
Here’s the point: all of our decisions matter, even the little ones. I think every second matters. We’re always moving towards something and away from something. That doesn’t mean that we should stress out about everything, but it does mean that we should be thoughtful about how we spend our time — and after being thoughtful, we must make actual changes in our lives. I want to be healthier. Okay, start exercising and eliminate unhealthy food. I want to read great literature. Okay, actually read great literature, instead of tabbing infinitely between Facebook and Instagram and Twitter. I want to be a good writer. Okay, actually try writing something. Hey — that’s what I’m doing now!
Maybe this post is as naively optimistic as that Avett Brothers song. I hope it is. We can do anything! But we have to actually, you know, go do it.
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