And this is a problem!.
You do know about cooking frogs, don’t you?
For those of you leading deprived lives and don’t know what I am talking about, it goes something like this: If you want to cook a frog, what you don’t do is get the pot of water boiling and then throw in the frog because it will immediately jump out. What you do, instead, is put the pot on a nice low heat and put the frog in. He will go, “Ooooh, this is nice, I think I’ll take a nap.” And then you slowly turn up the heat, and he never wakes up.
For most of my life, this metaphor has been important because my instinctive approach to “frog cooking” as a “cook” has usually been to get the pot boiling and then be surprised when the frog hops out. I just realised today, however, that I have reached a phase in my life where I am no longer just the cook.
I’m the frog.
And right now, the water is nice and warm. Uh oh!
Right now, my life feels a lot more like warm water than water that is too hot. I am comfortable. The only pressures I feel are largely self-imposed. (And, just for clarity, I’ve expended a lot of energy and effort over the last decade, redesigning my life so this could occur.)
Yes, I am working to learn to write to help me gain greater clarity in my life and perhaps help others in the process. There is a certain level of tension and strain in that, but this choice is largely optional. Nobody is forcing me to do it, and I could turn it off anytime I want. I am enjoying my other vocational activities.
All of this is a very fertile breeding ground for complacency.
In prior years, when more was being demanded of me by others because of my vocational choices, I would occasionally get periods of time where the pressures would significantly lessen, and all I wanted to do was shut down, relax and recharge. I’m almost embarrassed to say it, but the relax and recharge way of living is what I get to do most days now. Now, there is no new set of upcoming, externally imposed hurdles. There is nothing new to prepare for or engage in.
This is a problem.
Long term, we are either growing or we are dying. When we want to “get in shape,” we exercise and intentionally work our muscles such that the next day they are sore because we literally damaged them. We do this so that we will grow stronger. We all understand that exercise needs to be challenging for us to get in better shape. We now know that those who stay physically active and strong have a higher quality of life and tend to live longer than those who do not. Mentally, it is the same thing. Too much “relax and recharge” is not a good thing. To stay sharp mentally and psychologically, I need an appropriate form of “exercise”. My work in writing is, in theory, one way that takes shape, but I know that it isn’t enough. I need something requiring a different level of “exertion.”
But there is a question that floats into my awareness as I contemplate this. “To what end?” Putting aside the specifics of what that might be, growing for the sake of growing doesn’t make sense either. I think I need some sort of target to aim at that is suitably challenging and suitably inspiring. I’m only 73 as I write this and, as I’ve mentioned in a prior essay, I have a genetic history that suggests I could easily live another 20+ years. Yet I am just like many my age, and I’m not really interested in starting another company and conquering the world. I do not have the physical stamina I once had. My body has constant aches and pains that are common with aging. As I draft this, I am in Switzerland with Moni visiting our daughter and her family, and what we both typically do after lunch and before we head out to see the family is we take a nap. A nap!
I’ve been gifted a staff of two young ladies who are both exceptional. I sense that I’ve been gifted them because I am supposed to be utilizing them in some way that I have not yet completely figured out. So, around that, there is some subtle foggy confusion.
In my case, though, I have a sense of urgency. I have a sense of urgency because the clock is ticking, and this body I inhabit is running out of runway. That sense of urgency…that is the heat slowly wicking up!
In the past, my time in the “waiting room” (S6E6), that space between pouring out the old water and waiting for the new juice to arrive, has always been uncomfortable. But I am now beginning to realise that, for me, right now, that discomfort was a good thing. It kept me awake. It forced me to stay alert and actively “notice” so I wouldn’t miss the quiet arrival of serendipity.
But what happens when the waiting room feels like a warm bath? That is the hidden danger of the complacency I find myself in today. Without the sharp edge of discomfort to keep me alert, the temptation to just “relax and recharge” becomes very inviting! If I fall asleep in this warm water, I risk missing the serendipitous clues pointing to what is next. I really risk not waking up. My new challenge is this: How do I intentionally stay awake when the universe isn’t actively making me uncomfortable? Because my “mortality demon” is still ticking, and I simply do not have the runway to sleep through whatever opportunities will appear next.
Until next time… start reading, start noticing, start thinking differently…time to wake up!
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This issue was originally published by Greg Hayne on Substack.