Why There’s No Such Thing As Two Steps Backwards
What do you miss about childhood? Recess? Waking up at the crack of a snowstorm’s dawn to watch the school closings ticker flit along the bottom of your local news station? Changing into your snow gear and running to the nearby hill for a day of endless sledding? Like recess and sledding, the things about childhood we’re wont to miss are those that don’t or seemingly can’t exist anymore. At least not in the context of our present lives.
For me, one dear figment of the past is candy. If you saw me now, you’d likely respond with a dubious chuckle as I told you of my former chubby self. “You’re lying,” you’d say. “There’s just no way!” I would insist and quickly try to veer away from the subject, telling you how much happier I am with myself now that I’ve (somewhat obsessively) committed to living a healthy and active life. You, still ruminating, might ask something like “what was your favorite junk food?” I would then hurriedly tell you about my cyclical addiction to viscous, fruit-flavored candy. Specifically Skittles, Starbursts, and Now and Laters.
The nutritional life I’ve chosen means I no longer allow myself to eat Now and Laters, though “now, not later” is an almost scandalously abridged way of expressing the standard I’ve begun holding myself to. This conscious, yet often painstakingly difficult, commitment to fighting excuse-making has quite literally turned my life around in just one short year.
I say ‘short’ now, but that’s in hindsight. The hellish year I very recently put behind me felt like a purgatorial eternity. While it humbles and pains me to say so, there were many times when my mind wandered to dark places of drastic consideration. 2013, my completely unenthused first year in the workforce, was the worst year of my life to date. In a way it even felt like 2010, the agonizing year that followed the death of my best friend.
Again, you might be saying to yourself “you’re lying! There’s just no way!” Way. Hear me out.
Indeed, the ‘viruses’ were different. In fact, as ‘viruses’ they have absolutely nothing in common. On the one hand you have a tragic and completely unexpected loss, an isolated instance. On the other hand you have a job, a daily existence. However the “infections” they became were strikingly similar. Think of Hepatitis. There are disparate strains of the virus (A, B, C), but each results in an identical outcome: the liver becomes inflamed. In both 2010 and 2013, unpleasant experiences (virus) caused me to become a shadow of my self (infection). During those years, my days were defined by prolonged melancholia and severe self-doubt. How can I go on? Will it ever get better? These were questions I would ask myself but could not answer. In each case I felt clueless, disoriented, and dejected, seriously doubting my ability to either live another day without my best friend or to continue performing a duty that undermined my morals, goals, and essential self.
As they say, hindsight is 20-20. In hindsight I recognize that, for me, this self-indulgent pity and personal victimization was necessary. Only after I completely palled my psychology did I realize that doing so was having physiological repercussions. The sound of the alarm clock literally stung. Entire days would pass in which a titanic, debilitating lump in my throat would prevent me from saying even one word. These silent struggles grew into insidious sicknesses that nearly claimed me.
After a while I became so emotionally sick of feeling physically sick that I didn’t want to be any sort of sick anymore. So in 2010 and 2013, I did as my former fat self did when said self tired of a certain physiological condition. I halted the uncontrolled descent, turned around, and began the climb. Step by grueling step.
On the surface, being overweight, grieving, and job contempt are very different problems. Yet with each, the case for change became obvious because the impetus for change was exactly the same: a desire to materially improve the quality of my life. In pursuit of health and longevity, I stopped eating processed sugar. In order to cope with loss and seek renewed joy, I decided to leave school and study abroad. In search of purpose and fulfillment, I committed to finding a new job. In each instance I wrestled with the difficult truth that I was the only person with the power or prerogative to get things going in the right direction.
I wish I could tell you otherwise, but it wasn’t easy to stop being afraid and start moving forward. In all three cases, gaining any sort of upward momentum was absolutely the most time-consuming, discouraging, and infuriating part. My 13-year old self found it torturous to resist Now and Laters. My 19-year old self very intentionally avoided filling out a study abroad application. And my 23-year old self was completely unnerved by the thought of sending a cold e-mail. So for a while I didn’t do any of these things because I thought that I couldn’t. I was wrong. As the laws of physics will tell you, once you start moving, it takes less and less energy to move faster.
It’s easy to miss a lot of specific things from our childhood, whether snow days or candy. Even more upsettingly, as we grow older it seems harder and harder to attain the wide-eyed optimism and intrinsic joy that characterized our formative years. How about we shift that thinking a bit? The reality is, now that we’re older we’re capable of such incredible things. For better, not worse, incredibility is predicated on choice, choice that rests solely on our shoulders.
If you think something in your life is dissatisfactory — your job, your school, your major, your girlfriend — you’re probably right. You may not know exactly what you want, but you don’t need to. You just need to know that you want to make a change and do everything in your power to be the David to your uncertainty’s Goliath. Just take a step and don’t overthink it. Reach out to an old friend at a company you’re excited by. Sign up for a class out of pure interest. Join a community of awesome people. Take a step because any step you take is one step in change’s general direction. Start now. Focus on building momentum, not getting to the finish line. Ask for help if you need it. And if the path to change begins to stray from the one you charted, who cares? Take a few steps around the neighborhood and see what you can find.
If you’re committed to making a change and relish the journey, change will happen. Or said a different way, embracing the now is the only way to reach the oasis of later.
This piece was prompted and inspired by Alex Durand of Frable Consulting. Alex is in the business of helping Millenials tap their wellspring of potential and captain their fate.
In honor of Mark, watch The Crash Reel and support the Kevin Pearce Fund.
