I’ve learned a bit about myself these last few months. It’s a strange thing to finally start to understand yourself better at an age that feels like the middle. Though when I think about how much I’ve learned at 40, it makes me excited for 50.
Strange thing to be excited for age.
I’m not sure what the guidelines are for a mid-life crisis. And in hindsight, later, maybe I will be able to determine if this was mine. Maybe midlife crisis is just the term we use to explain behavior that subverts what is expected by society. Things that are a break from what is safe, and expected and long-term actualizations of the fundamentals of a secure life plan. What is the appropriate age for this? Perhaps an age that finally starts to ask the important questions: what do I want? What do I want to do? What is actually important here?
I’ve always prided myself in the THINGs that I’ve done. The opposite of actual possessions, but the experiences. I’m not big on possessions. But I have definitely sought experiences and the desire to feel life, to find a career that allowed me the resources to go on all the wild and crazy adventures that I wished to pursue.
And then I read a book called: The Subtle Art of not Giving A F*ck.
It really fundamentally changed the way I looked at work. And then it started to change the way I looked at everything else.
See, it’s not about giving zero F*cks. It’s about giving the appropriate amount of F*cks about the things that are important to you. And letting go of the rest. This can look like choosing projects that are in line with your goals, or aspirations. This can look like choosing work that aligns with your values. This can simply look like not getting involved in family drama when it is not the hill you wish to die on. It can also look like caring A LOT about the family drama that involves you in an important way, or the project at work that requires your important attention to ensure success – either for yourself or the people that depend on you.
The main point is that you cannot give all the F*cks about all the Things. It’s impossible. No one can. I’ve learned that one of the best things about me as a person is that I give a F*ck about a lot of things. And a lot of people. Especially people. And I give a lot of F*cks about the things that impact the people that I care about. Which, as mentioned, is a lot.
And this best thing about me is also the absolute worst thing about me. Because I’m really good at trying to do something about all the things and people I care about. And as previously mentioned, no one can give appropriate F*cks about all the people and all the things. In fact, and I’ve learned this recently from experience, you will do a very poor job at doing all the things for all the people for whom you give many F*cks.
So what to do? Well. Here’s the new thing I learned. And I’ve just started practicing so follow-up reporting will be required about the results of my new experiment. I listened to this fabulous podcast about people who can walk into a room, and read the needs and emotions of the people in the room, and then intuitively want to DO something about it. And the lovely Suzanne Stabile who is one of these people has learned to ask herself: Is This Mine To Do?
Why am I interacting with this person? Is this mine to do? And does this person even WANT my help?
Oh my heavens. When I think about all the people I have to rushed to help in my life without asking first if they even wanted me there, I cannot even. I cannot. Fathom.
When I think of the projects and positions and roles within my community I have risen to because I thought people needed help. Heavens. Did I want to do any of them? I am deeper and stronger and more compassionate for having participated in all of them. But were they mine to do?
I honestly don’t know. But the past is the past and it always teaches us a little something along the way. So now, before I start something. Before I jump to help someone – the way I love to – I ask: Is this mine to do?
Is this a F*ck that is mine to give?
Stay tuned for the results of another wild experiment.