Words. Ideas. Actions.

04 April 2023

Here’s the thing: This is the last scheduled post in this Not Tweets series. When I first came up with this exercise, I wanted an outlet for my thoughts which would replace my daily — at least — habit of sending Tweets. I also wanted some guardrails for how long this would last, so I came up with what I thought was a sufficient targeted number of posts, repurposing original Soundgarden song titles for the titles of each of these entries. Some nights, that worked better than others. And tonight is one of those others. 

I don’t really have a good tie-in for tonight’s title. In fact, I don’t really have a great topic for tonight. Some days were like that. And I think that’s a pretty good way to bring these posts to a close. Because throughout it all, life has gone on, and I’ve gotten to settle in each evening and try to make a little sense of whatever thoughts have bounced around in my head during the day. The fact that today was so historically consequential at the same time as it felt so mundane is actually a pretty great snapshot of how I’ve been feeling since I started these in November. 

Some days, I knew exactly what I wanted to write about, jotting ideas in my notebook between meetings or during dog walks or even as I misheard a song lyric. Other days, I was simply too overwhelmed with breaking news to have anything other than rambling tumbleweeds cascading around in my head. But every weeknight, I sat here for a few moments, honing fractions of ideas into whole sentences, helping to cement a snapshot of me and my brain on any given day. Through it all, the unexpected kept happening. And the fact that I kept these up through it all is honestly what I’m proudest of. 

You see, I love a routine. I rely on them. Patterns and systems and habits help calm me. Otherwise, my anxieties can get the best of me. Just the burden of putting down these words every night worked to soothe the unease of not being able to Tweet each and every thought in my head. But in a world where we’re having to reuse, and almost redefine, the word “unprecedented” almost every day, I fell back on routine as a way to keep calm, and carry on.

When I started these I was angry that a business made a business decision that I wish it hadn’t. In January, when Google announced thousands of layoffs, including my own, I was angry that a business made a business decision that I wish it hadn’t. What these posts have helped me realize, though, are a few ideas I want to capture form my future self:

1) No company should be worth more to you than you do to yourself.
2) No matter how prepared you think you are for something, you are never going to be prepared for everything, so just relax a bit.
3) No one knows what you’re going through, and you’ll never know everything someone else is going through, so give them a break.

I’m sure there are more reminders that would be helpful in the future, but I think these are a good place to stop. I love writing. I don’t love editing. I could keep writing for another hour, I’m sure. But great writing is essentially good editing. I don’t think anything in the Not Tweets collection could be called great, but there are nuggets there I’d love to revisit. And edit. And try to get them to great. So, while this is the end of Not Tweets, I hope you’ll see a more polished version of something which started here in another form in the future. Until then, thank you for allowing this experiment to go on for more than four months. And thanks for reading this, or any of these, posts. I ended each of them with the same question, “See you tomorrow?” I can tell you now, I definitely will not see you here tomorrow. But I hope to see you soon. Maybe on Mastodon? 

06 January 2023

Hope is an unbelievably powerful thing. And even though I type those words just moments before Speaker-elect McCarthy addresses the 118th Congress, it was not a foregone conclusion for most of the night. No, last night’s far-fetched idea didn’t come to fruition, but the fact that tonight’s conclusion was in doubt for hours and hours meant that anything was still possible. And those unknowns should give us hope, even though often, it gives me anxiety.

I try hard to control as much as I can. If you look at the last few entries here, you’ll see that theme come up over and over. Whether it’s preparing for terrible weather or making career plans, I try my best to avoid pitfalls and do the best I can with what we know. But if COVID-19 has shown me anything, it’s that you can’t prepare for what you had no idea was possible.

So, tonight as I watch the unpredictable crash up against the predictable, on the anniversary of an unexpected coup attempt, I am here to tell you that you never know what any new day can bring. That each is full of opportunity to be and do better. And even as I type that idea, I know I am trying hard to suppress the fear that those unknowns are just as probable to bring peril as they are to bring peace. 

As this first week of the year draws to a close, I hope each unknown brings you more peace than peril. And some rest. 

See you tomorrow?

12 December 2022

By this time tomorrow, we’ll know one of the two teams competing in the World Cup Final. For now, it’s all speculation. And conjecture. And bias after favoritism shrouded as expertise about what is going to happen. But we don’t really know anything, do we? I mean, if we really think about it, we can’t even guarantee the semifinal games will even be played. We expect them. We plan for them. But we just cannot predict the future. And that is terrifying to me.

One of the recurring topics which comes up in therapy for me is this lack of control over the future. There are things we can control, things we can try to control, and then there are things we didn’t even think about trying to control. And probably couldn’t if we tried. This year’s World Cup matches have been a great example of preparing for the expected and getting continually surprised by the outcomes. Morocco in the Final? After seeing how they defended against both Spain and Portugal, it’s definitely not impossible. And if you told me that over the summer, I definitely would have questioned your mental stability. Yet, here we are. But let’s look at a few other examples of where this constant uncertainty causes me anxiety, shall we?

Earthquakes. Now, I grew up in Florida, and the most common natural disaster we see there is hurricanes. And we get to see those coming from miles away. Literally. So, we stock up on supplies, make sure there’s gas in the car, and move all the lawn furniture off the pool deck to settle in for a few days without power. With earthquakes, though, your survival kit needs to be at the ready all the time because there’s no telling when one will hit. You can control the prep, but you can’t control the prediction. And that makes me feel helpless.

These two examples are big, and could change the lives of thousands — maybe millions — of people. But unpredictability can happen at a moment’s notice, and just to you. Let’s say you’re biking to work tomorrow morning. You have on all your safety gear: helmet, flashing lights, reflective neon vest. You’re obeying every law, taking the safest route, and watching out for any hazards. But there’s still the off chance that a distracted driver could unknowingly drift into the bike lane and change your life forever. When I think about this, it’s terrifying. But I can’t live my life that way, can I? None of us can. We’d never leave the house. Or shower. Or eat anything which we may choke on. We can’t eliminate all risk, but we can minimize and prepare for a lot of it. And I’m trying to get comfortable with that.

Basically, this is a handful of paragraphs which could have been more succinctly put like this: Nobody knows anything. Instead of dreading that, thought I’m trying to embrace it. We’re having some uncertainty at work right now, too, and I think that may be amplifying my already heightened anxiety. But I’m trying to get more comfortable with the discomfort, telling myself I’ve never learned anything new from my comfort zone. I don’t think I’m doing a good job of convincing myself of that that, though. I’ll keep trying. 

See you tomorrow?