I think the only addition I would make is that the only timeline that matters is your own. As long as you are learning and growing, curious about life and able to regularly access joy, and feeling creatively engaged it doesn't actually matter if what gets you there is something you have been working on steadily since you were relatively young or if you just discovered you loved it in your 40s, 50s, or 60s. Or older! Decided you really want to write a book at 50 and feel like you're behind all the young folks who have wanted to write since they were in kindergarten? Don't worry about it. Just write the damn book the way you can now that you're old enough to have accrued experience and wisdom. Want to sing or take on a new career or learn to scuba dive? Good! Do. It.
We have a very standard, BORING story in our culture about how to achieve and when to achieve, when certain milestones are supposed to occur, and woe be to anyone who doesn't achieve them on time in the proper order. This is a stupid lie. Adulthood is way more winding and surprising, full of stops and starts and unexpected left turns and U-turns and being spun around so many times you're dizzy then the storytellers want us to know. We lose things and people and sometimes a sense of clear purpose (assuming we ever had one.) only to acquire new loves and stuff and vocations. We stumble upon things, get unforeseen opportunities, develop strengths we never knew we would need which change us irrevocably. Your story is yours. Your journey is yours. Do things in your own time, according to your own instincts. You'll always be right on time.
SO SO true Asha. All of it. Also this--the only timeline that matters is your own--reminds me of one of my other frequent experiences, which is that I think I know the RIGHT timing of something and then life teaches me that I was totally wrong. When I hold too tightly onto a timeline sometimes I cause myself a lot of suffering, rather than sometimes being able to say, "Huh...I thought now was the time for this, but maybe it's not. Let me hold it more loosely and see if it comes down the line." So often, it does, and it is right on time.
For sure! Interestingly, for my anyway, when I'm super attached to a timeline it's because I'm orienting to something outside of myself, some comparison, some standard that is not my own and I want to be "good" and "on time" and "worthy" according to that view. It can make me super willful and determined to control things that are largely out of my control. Getting divorced was a good, if painful, lesson on this, how my plans have to be held very, very lightly, and they are more likely to come to fruition eventually if they source only from me and are not entirely dependent on getting other people to do stuff I think they should.
Mar 15, 2023·edited Mar 15, 2023Liked by Courtney Martin
Treat joy as a wild creature, not a domestic one. Our farm nests many species, but I am as proud of the fluid boundary around it that invites wild ones to visit and re-visit too -- foxes, ravens, porcupines, wild turkeys, nesting sandhill cranes, even moose and bears sometimes. Every time they come is magic. I can't force or keep them here. But I can get really curious about their experience in this ecosystem I have an impact on. Do they feel safe enough? Curious? Attracted? Even connecting, sometimes? What am I doing persistently that makes them think, "Not now, maybe I'll try again another time."? Is there threat or toxicity, or barrenness somewhere I can look at, play with?
And I am also such an ecosystem. I can (and do) make myself into a biologist of joy. I learn that it is wary of habits of drama, pride, entitlement, blame, and withholding. It's tempted closer by humility, candor, frolic, surrender, generosity, self-honesty... It won't be summoned, can't be force-grown, can't be locked up. But we can cultivate the garden that we are, and then let some of our fences fall, and then stand again frozen in early morning light, meeting its clear eyes until it's ready to move onward.
Oh my gosh Lorca, this is stunning. "I can (and do) make myself into a biologist of joy"--now that's a title! You teach me so much in these two little paragraphs. I'm going to be thinking about/playing with them for a long time.
I am currently 26, and as one of my mentors often reminds me, we are told so much about what our 20s are meant to be, but we're all just "little orbits" floating around each other trying to figure out a path after having been given a timeline and track for so long. I think I spent my early 20s very much fretting over "timelines" and "supposed to's" and though I would literally never say covid was a blessing, I will say that nuclear blast to any timeline I had carried a few invitations in it. I think it has taught me early on in career and life that that timeline manufactured by culture is total BS--and there's been grief to that expectation lost, but beyond that grief there's also this open door that says, "So what are you going to do then, now that you know what you know?" I think I'm walking through that door these days, and so much of what you have shared here resonates (ie listening to the body, following your feelings of envy, celebrating the NOs, being useful). I feel a lot more permission to be creative with life than I ever have, and I think that's because of this knowledge that everything can STILL fail even when you're following 'the rules,' and that can have nothing to do with you. So why not choose your own terms and rules?
Oh my goodness Chandler, this is gorgeously articulated and makes me have such deep faith that you will walk through the door and what is on the other side will be so special. Because you have a special wisdom you are bringing to the journey. When I wrote my book, The New Better Off, I was very much in your position, having weathered the financial crisis and sense of the bottom dropping out of the whole story. There is a gift in the consciousness and liberation from the delusion of the timeline, as you so well explain. Thank you.
Yes! So interesting you bring up the financial crisis. I have spoken to several people who went through that right of college as well, and felt a kinship with their perspectives and experiences. Thank you for the encouragement Courtney. This means a lot :)
"So why not choose your own terms and rules?" Inner permission to creativity, refusing exterior timelines, seeing so much in a framework of invitations -- all this so beautifully resilient. My body feels warm thinking of the tools you are taking forward into your life now. Such good work. I have always loved the idea that truly dangerous emotions are ones we persuade ourselves into...
Oh yes, such a good point. I think that is very true and well said... thank you for your kind words. To have this perspective be affirmed by wise individuals is incredibly meaningful to me. It's those whispers of encouragement from those who've gone before me that help carry me forward. <3
One of the wonderful parts of getting older is perspective and I tell my 18 year daughter this all the time. At 50, almost everything I come across now I have lived through before or someone close to me has been through before and there is comfort in knowing that I can love through it again or I have experience to tackle it easier/better than the first time. Perspective is hugely helpful in helping me know what is important, what to spend time on (nor not!), what to worry about (or not!) etc.
YES! There are so many gifts of aging and we don't talk about them enough. I loved that you write "I can love through it again" --not sure if that was intentional or not.
What a wonderful and thoughtful list, Courtney! I’d only add, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” To put it another way, “Keep you eyes on your own paper.” There will always be someone doing the shinier, jazzier thing, but they are not you and-- as you beautifully put it-- they don’t share your two precious and unique notes! If we compare our insides to someone else’s outsides, we’ll always feel like we’re coming up short. But if we stop comparing and start celebrating each other’s gorgeous contributions to this collective project called being human, we’ll generate more joy individually and collectively. Cheers to these beautiful reminders you’ve share!!
YES! Oh my gosh "Keep you eyes on your own paper" is so good because it still feels that way as a grown person when you're preoccupied with someone else's life script. Thank you!
I too have been fortunate often to have had a lot of control of my personal work program, been in situations in which there was low risk in saying no or in doing things in my unique way.
I am trying to remember whether it was in Studs Terkel's Working that he interviews people across the range of jobs they held and brings to light how these individuals shaped their work, often 'ordinary' work, to reflect the unique gifts they brought to the scene.
But none of these strategies touches on the special challenge CN brings forward and that Parker does, that I too struggle with, of keeping afloat within that 'tragic gap.'
This continues even at my age to be a challenge, to live with tending only the part or amount of the garden I can, to think of myself as part of a team and therefore not needing to attend to all the work crying for someone to attend. I am constantly worried that no one will pick up the toughest parts unless I somehow do so, because I have so often been in situations where everyone waits for someone else to step forward.
Always, always, always be on the hunt for JOY. You deserve nothing less. If there is no joy in your work, your relationship, your friendships, it is time to move on. Be ruthless about this, my loves: life is far too short for anything less than JOY.
I don't know how you so elegantly (and eloquently) articulated these thoughts, but they hit home on a variety of levels. I have only one thought to add. We become what we practice. Some of your points feel daunting to those of us who struggle to say "no" consistently (or at least on occasion) or fail to see the value in envy. These are muscles I haven't learned to use, parts of my body underfed, and they yell at me when I stretch them. I need time to work them slowly, to build these new ideas into my internal dialogue. But this is time we'll spent, and it builds a practice worth returning to until it becomes fluent.
Yes, such a good point. It's sometimes so confusing that the right thing for you actually doesn't feel that good, and certainly not intuitive, at first. I've found that in relationships, too. The thing that can help a relationship get better is me doing something new, but the new thing feels weird and hard...then it works!
What a wonderful list. It resonates with much of what I've discovered that has brought me, with much gratitude, to how my life has unfolded at age 76. One thing I'd add, which helped me at a threshold crossing recently, comes from Martha Beck -- when deciding between the fear and the longing, choose the longing.
Recognizing that the thing that matters to me most right now- flexibility- will not always be the thing that matters most. It hasn't always been (pre kids) and will not always be (you know, as they grow up) But giving myself a framework to operate within is a reminder that what I to prioritize in a given period of life ("the 40s") won't always be the thing. If I have to say no to an opportunity or even to SEEKING an opportunity because of that one thing that matters to me most right now, then it will come again. Time marches on and so do we.
I think the only addition I would make is that the only timeline that matters is your own. As long as you are learning and growing, curious about life and able to regularly access joy, and feeling creatively engaged it doesn't actually matter if what gets you there is something you have been working on steadily since you were relatively young or if you just discovered you loved it in your 40s, 50s, or 60s. Or older! Decided you really want to write a book at 50 and feel like you're behind all the young folks who have wanted to write since they were in kindergarten? Don't worry about it. Just write the damn book the way you can now that you're old enough to have accrued experience and wisdom. Want to sing or take on a new career or learn to scuba dive? Good! Do. It.
We have a very standard, BORING story in our culture about how to achieve and when to achieve, when certain milestones are supposed to occur, and woe be to anyone who doesn't achieve them on time in the proper order. This is a stupid lie. Adulthood is way more winding and surprising, full of stops and starts and unexpected left turns and U-turns and being spun around so many times you're dizzy then the storytellers want us to know. We lose things and people and sometimes a sense of clear purpose (assuming we ever had one.) only to acquire new loves and stuff and vocations. We stumble upon things, get unforeseen opportunities, develop strengths we never knew we would need which change us irrevocably. Your story is yours. Your journey is yours. Do things in your own time, according to your own instincts. You'll always be right on time.
SO SO true Asha. All of it. Also this--the only timeline that matters is your own--reminds me of one of my other frequent experiences, which is that I think I know the RIGHT timing of something and then life teaches me that I was totally wrong. When I hold too tightly onto a timeline sometimes I cause myself a lot of suffering, rather than sometimes being able to say, "Huh...I thought now was the time for this, but maybe it's not. Let me hold it more loosely and see if it comes down the line." So often, it does, and it is right on time.
For sure! Interestingly, for my anyway, when I'm super attached to a timeline it's because I'm orienting to something outside of myself, some comparison, some standard that is not my own and I want to be "good" and "on time" and "worthy" according to that view. It can make me super willful and determined to control things that are largely out of my control. Getting divorced was a good, if painful, lesson on this, how my plans have to be held very, very lightly, and they are more likely to come to fruition eventually if they source only from me and are not entirely dependent on getting other people to do stuff I think they should.
Yes, so wise. I bet that's true of mine, too. Doing an audit now. What a gift your insights are!
Treat joy as a wild creature, not a domestic one. Our farm nests many species, but I am as proud of the fluid boundary around it that invites wild ones to visit and re-visit too -- foxes, ravens, porcupines, wild turkeys, nesting sandhill cranes, even moose and bears sometimes. Every time they come is magic. I can't force or keep them here. But I can get really curious about their experience in this ecosystem I have an impact on. Do they feel safe enough? Curious? Attracted? Even connecting, sometimes? What am I doing persistently that makes them think, "Not now, maybe I'll try again another time."? Is there threat or toxicity, or barrenness somewhere I can look at, play with?
And I am also such an ecosystem. I can (and do) make myself into a biologist of joy. I learn that it is wary of habits of drama, pride, entitlement, blame, and withholding. It's tempted closer by humility, candor, frolic, surrender, generosity, self-honesty... It won't be summoned, can't be force-grown, can't be locked up. But we can cultivate the garden that we are, and then let some of our fences fall, and then stand again frozen in early morning light, meeting its clear eyes until it's ready to move onward.
Oh my gosh Lorca, this is stunning. "I can (and do) make myself into a biologist of joy"--now that's a title! You teach me so much in these two little paragraphs. I'm going to be thinking about/playing with them for a long time.
I am currently 26, and as one of my mentors often reminds me, we are told so much about what our 20s are meant to be, but we're all just "little orbits" floating around each other trying to figure out a path after having been given a timeline and track for so long. I think I spent my early 20s very much fretting over "timelines" and "supposed to's" and though I would literally never say covid was a blessing, I will say that nuclear blast to any timeline I had carried a few invitations in it. I think it has taught me early on in career and life that that timeline manufactured by culture is total BS--and there's been grief to that expectation lost, but beyond that grief there's also this open door that says, "So what are you going to do then, now that you know what you know?" I think I'm walking through that door these days, and so much of what you have shared here resonates (ie listening to the body, following your feelings of envy, celebrating the NOs, being useful). I feel a lot more permission to be creative with life than I ever have, and I think that's because of this knowledge that everything can STILL fail even when you're following 'the rules,' and that can have nothing to do with you. So why not choose your own terms and rules?
Oh my goodness Chandler, this is gorgeously articulated and makes me have such deep faith that you will walk through the door and what is on the other side will be so special. Because you have a special wisdom you are bringing to the journey. When I wrote my book, The New Better Off, I was very much in your position, having weathered the financial crisis and sense of the bottom dropping out of the whole story. There is a gift in the consciousness and liberation from the delusion of the timeline, as you so well explain. Thank you.
Yes! So interesting you bring up the financial crisis. I have spoken to several people who went through that right of college as well, and felt a kinship with their perspectives and experiences. Thank you for the encouragement Courtney. This means a lot :)
"So why not choose your own terms and rules?" Inner permission to creativity, refusing exterior timelines, seeing so much in a framework of invitations -- all this so beautifully resilient. My body feels warm thinking of the tools you are taking forward into your life now. Such good work. I have always loved the idea that truly dangerous emotions are ones we persuade ourselves into...
Oh yes, such a good point. I think that is very true and well said... thank you for your kind words. To have this perspective be affirmed by wise individuals is incredibly meaningful to me. It's those whispers of encouragement from those who've gone before me that help carry me forward. <3
This essay is a "soul-hug" and great advice for any time of transition or disillusionment.
One of the wonderful parts of getting older is perspective and I tell my 18 year daughter this all the time. At 50, almost everything I come across now I have lived through before or someone close to me has been through before and there is comfort in knowing that I can love through it again or I have experience to tackle it easier/better than the first time. Perspective is hugely helpful in helping me know what is important, what to spend time on (nor not!), what to worry about (or not!) etc.
YES! There are so many gifts of aging and we don't talk about them enough. I loved that you write "I can love through it again" --not sure if that was intentional or not.
What a wonderful and thoughtful list, Courtney! I’d only add, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” To put it another way, “Keep you eyes on your own paper.” There will always be someone doing the shinier, jazzier thing, but they are not you and-- as you beautifully put it-- they don’t share your two precious and unique notes! If we compare our insides to someone else’s outsides, we’ll always feel like we’re coming up short. But if we stop comparing and start celebrating each other’s gorgeous contributions to this collective project called being human, we’ll generate more joy individually and collectively. Cheers to these beautiful reminders you’ve share!!
YES! Oh my gosh "Keep you eyes on your own paper" is so good because it still feels that way as a grown person when you're preoccupied with someone else's life script. Thank you!
I too have been fortunate often to have had a lot of control of my personal work program, been in situations in which there was low risk in saying no or in doing things in my unique way.
I am trying to remember whether it was in Studs Terkel's Working that he interviews people across the range of jobs they held and brings to light how these individuals shaped their work, often 'ordinary' work, to reflect the unique gifts they brought to the scene.
But none of these strategies touches on the special challenge CN brings forward and that Parker does, that I too struggle with, of keeping afloat within that 'tragic gap.'
This continues even at my age to be a challenge, to live with tending only the part or amount of the garden I can, to think of myself as part of a team and therefore not needing to attend to all the work crying for someone to attend. I am constantly worried that no one will pick up the toughest parts unless I somehow do so, because I have so often been in situations where everyone waits for someone else to step forward.
I hear you, Fritzie. So hard to trust in that, and the long arc of all of this heartbreaking gaps.
Always, always, always be on the hunt for JOY. You deserve nothing less. If there is no joy in your work, your relationship, your friendships, it is time to move on. Be ruthless about this, my loves: life is far too short for anything less than JOY.
HUNT FOR JOY (Let's get these t-shirts made asap)
On it!!😉
I don't know how you so elegantly (and eloquently) articulated these thoughts, but they hit home on a variety of levels. I have only one thought to add. We become what we practice. Some of your points feel daunting to those of us who struggle to say "no" consistently (or at least on occasion) or fail to see the value in envy. These are muscles I haven't learned to use, parts of my body underfed, and they yell at me when I stretch them. I need time to work them slowly, to build these new ideas into my internal dialogue. But this is time we'll spent, and it builds a practice worth returning to until it becomes fluent.
Yes, such a good point. It's sometimes so confusing that the right thing for you actually doesn't feel that good, and certainly not intuitive, at first. I've found that in relationships, too. The thing that can help a relationship get better is me doing something new, but the new thing feels weird and hard...then it works!
I absolutely love love love this list. Thank you.
What a wonderful list. It resonates with much of what I've discovered that has brought me, with much gratitude, to how my life has unfolded at age 76. One thing I'd add, which helped me at a threshold crossing recently, comes from Martha Beck -- when deciding between the fear and the longing, choose the longing.
Love that! Thank you, Cindy.
i love this so much that i subscribed!
Thank you Cynthia!
This newsletter was exactly what I needed to hear today! Thank you!
Yay! I love when that happens. Onward Dr. Cara!
Recognizing that the thing that matters to me most right now- flexibility- will not always be the thing that matters most. It hasn't always been (pre kids) and will not always be (you know, as they grow up) But giving myself a framework to operate within is a reminder that what I to prioritize in a given period of life ("the 40s") won't always be the thing. If I have to say no to an opportunity or even to SEEKING an opportunity because of that one thing that matters to me most right now, then it will come again. Time marches on and so do we.