There are a few qualities of mine that aren’t so easy to appreciate. My habit of throwing a wrench in perfectly good plans is one of them. Especially when something is nearing the finish line (a launch at the company, a project Jo and I have going on, heck, even a conversation), that’s usually about the time I’m buzzing with a fresh batch of ideas I’d like to pressure-test.
Family road trips are no different. Most of our routes over the years have looked like one big ole zigzag from Waco to wherever we were headed. The kids have stopped acting surprised when a simple drive from Point A to Point B turns into a countywide hunt for signs that’ll lead us back to the main road.
My family has grown used to it by now, and our team at the office has too. But it still begs the question, “Why can’t I leave well enough alone?”
I could blame the fact that I’ve always felt like I was cut from a different cloth. My mom used to tell people I was going to be a preacher when I grew up, and my dad would add, “If he doesn’t end up in jail first.” What I take from that is I wasn’t made to be cautious.
Beyond people’s feelings, there are few things I am purposely careful with. This one life? Not a chance. I live for the what ifs and the pivots because they usually lead me to something more interesting, richer, more fought for, which in my experience always nets out to something more profound and satisfying.
This may be unpopular thinking, but to me, the whole notion of “balance” sits in the too-cautious camp. (And not just because it requires careful distribution of my most precious resources in a way I’m just not built for.) It’s the pursuit of balance as a destination—as your finish line—that I can’t wrap my mind around. It’s hearing people say, “Things will get better once we figure out the right balance.”
I’ve never been one for delayed gratification, but this is different. This is hedging your bets that life will get easier, happier, or at the very least less chaotic down the road as long as you strike the perfect balance between family and self, health and hobbies, work and rest. It seems to me that kind of thinking can nurture a way of living that places comfort above fortitude, apathy above adventure. Peace becomes the prize for only those careful enough with their life.
“... that kind of thinking can nurture a way of living that places comfort above fortitude, apathy above adventure. Peace becomes the prize for only those careful enough with their life.”
I say there’s more fun to be found in the tension of things. You may see it differently. If you’re at all like my wife, you might find a deep sense of purpose in seeking harmony within your world. That’s how you feel relaxed or content, how you fill your tank. If that’s you, please hear me say there’s nothing wrong with it. I see the value of a healthy holding of all the roles and responsibilities you’ve got to bear. Or prioritizing more rest, or creativity, or more time with your family—if those are things you feel like you’re lacking.
I get the logic of wanting to right a ship that’s taking on water. The draw of wanting to keep your eyes on the horizon. All I’m saying is, don’t lose sight of the ride of your life.
For me, the reward isn’t when I make it to my destination. It’s how I rode out the waves. How many times I was willing to take big swings even if it meant losing my footing. How often I dared to pivot not for the sake of danger but deep delight.
While there’s nothing inherently wrong with moments of comfort and reprieve, sometimes I worry our world has put those ideals on a pedestal, and happiness has started to look like ease and success like finish lines. I already know these types of images will be fed to my kids every day of their lives. I don’t want them to have an unrealistic or discouraging grasp of the alternative: the joy of the journey.
We’re all going to get to whatever ending we’re destined for, but I believe the person you are when you get there is different based on the choices you make along the way. And despite what’s commonly thought of as the good life—one where you’re resting on the beach with a piña colada and a fat 401(k)—we are happiest when we’re rocking and rolling and figuring out complicated things.
There’s a reason the most common word you hear before curious is naturally. We are all born with a natural curiosity and restlessness. We are all made with the strength we need to hold on tight for what promises to be an incredible ride.
