Observations

Yesterday, I took my computer to the park near my house and set up shop in one of my favourite spots: a little forest cathedral next to a big, wide, grassy field. It was almost funny how natural it felt to open my laptop, put in my earphones and get to work in such a gorgeous location – I didn’t want to leave and stayed for hours.

The lesson I learned here is not how lucky I am to be able to work from anywhere (though I never take that for granted), it’s that I am my own worst enemy when it comes to embracing my flexibility and independence. Left to my own devices, I’ll go to the same coffee shop every day or I’ll work from my home office. It either won’t cross my mind to do something differently, or otherwise I’ll make up excuses for why I can’t.

Last week I was walking through the park, talking to a friend about why I never work outside in the summer. Because I don’t have an internet key, I said. Because those data plans are expensive, I said. Did you know that in Korea they have the cheapest, fastest best internet keys?!, I said.

But afterwards I saw that I was being a hypocrite. I always encourage my clients to think about what solutions are right in front of them, what they could do tomorrow, and what tools they already have at their disposal. Stop trying to get fancy with it and be nimble. Be light. Figure it out as you go.

I saw that I wasn’t taking my own advice. I was researching expensive data plans for an internet key I don’t even want, all the while already having a phone with a generous data plan that I never use all of in a month. I know how to tether my phone’s internet to my computer. What was I waiting for? So without further ado, I took myself to the forest office and had a wonderful time.

This was an important lesson for me that more often than not, there are solutions right in front of me for having a better experience every single day. How can you use the resources and tools you already have, to create more of the life that you want? 

Yesterday I went down to the waterfront boardwalk near my house on the most beautiful summer day we’ve had so far this year. The water and sky were melting into each other in the world’s most perfect blue, the trees looked fresh, the grass was lush, the breeze was lovely. I didn’t mean to spend as much time down there as I did, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I took my sandals off and paddled my feet in the water, had a moment with a swan, and found a picnic table where I could read my book.

After reading Ingrid Fetell Lee’s wonderful book Joyful, I started following both her business and personal account on Instagram. It’s fascinating to see how much she tries to practice what she’s learned about joy and how she brings it into her daily life in ways big and small. It’s inspiring me, and also giving me ‘permission’ to seek simple joys in any way I can. 

Because is it weird to say that I think I’ve avoided joy in recent years? Dismissed it as something I don’t need a lot of, settled for less, told myself I’m okay with muted colours and less festivity? The truth is that as we get older, I think we’re told to focus less on “frivolous things” like popsicles and swing sets and rainbows. What I love about Fetell Lee’s approach is that she makes the case that joy is not frivolous. It is essential to our wellbeing. 

Inspired by my afternoon yesterday, I decided to make a list of easy joys. I’ll be adding to this list, but here’s a start:

• Swimming, especially outside
• Walking on a beach in bare feet
• Reading while taking notes outside
• Having my nails painted a bright colour
• Fresh flowers in the house
• Sending & receiving snail mail
• Browsing at the library
• Going out for ice cream cones
• Wearing colourful clothes
• Playing with dogs or cats
• Having a picnic
• Eating cherry tomatoes off the vine

On last week’s episode of Happier, their guest Ramit Sethi shared his “book buying rule”: “If you’re ‘thinking about’ buying a book, just buy it. Don’t waste time debating. Even one good idea makes it worth it.”

This reminds me of something Seth Godin once said on an episode of the Tim Ferris podcast: “A book is a screaming bargain. You pay $15-20, and you have something that might change your life; you have something that reminds you 20 years later, sitting on the shelf, where you were when you read it. I love buying books.”

It probably goes without saying that I adore these ideas, being a passionate book person and all. But it did get me thinking about why I tend to have resistance to buying books in the first place. I grew up as a library kid – my dad took me every week to pick out new books – and I’d say I’m still very much a library kid today. The idea of buying all the books I want to read seems extravagant and impossible. Especially hardcovers, god forbid!

And yet every week I probably spend the equivalent of 3+ books on going out for drinks or food with friends. Those are great experiences too, but are they screaming bargains? I’m going to go with: no. It’s interesting to observe that I often act like books aren’t worth the money. ME. THE GIRL WHO READS 100 BOOKS A YEAR.

So hearing this book-buying rule opened my mind. Recently, I’ve read a few books (this one, this one, and this one) that in the weeks since, I’ve wished I could go back and reference for their anecdotes and research. And so I think they’ll be the first three I buy with this new rule in mind. Their ideas are worth it. 

I’ve been having this realization lately about myself specifically, and humans in general: to know how I really feel about something, look at how I’m behaving, not what I’m saying. In many cases, I’m already taking action toward or away from a situation, even if that action might appear to be happening below the level of my conscious awareness. I could be saying the opposite, but my actions almost always tell me the truth.

This weekend, I talked to some friends about my decision whether or not to go to an upcoming event. I had lots to say about the event and could list all kinds of reasons that I wanted to attend, but it turns out that my body knew better. Before I even knew I needed to, I was crying hard and felt contracted and awful. Add to this the fact that earlier in the week I’d already (almost without thinking) tried to figure out how to get a refund. The answer became clear: my actions were speaking, and they had something to say. 

My friend Sonja and I decided a few years ago that we no longer betray ourselves, which means that once we know what is true and right for us, we move toward it no matter what. So once I realized how I really felt about this event, the surface-level sentiments I’d been expressing up to that point suddenly became irrelevant. I could see the truth of how I really felt and I was not going to betray myself by ignoring it. I couldn’t unsee it.

One of my favourite phrases is “Energy doesn’t lie” and I’m learning that the same is true for most of my actions. The moves I make or don’t make tell me a lot about how I’m really feeling on the inside, regardless of what I think or express verbally. What research am I doing idly? What projects am I majorly procrastinating on? What events do I always seem to cancel at the last minute? What am I working on when I should be working? What am I avoiding? What do I keep ‘forgetting’ to do? We have a tendency to write that stuff off as laziness or character flaws, but I’m starting to realize that my idle actions have a lot to teach me about how I truly feel.