Assume the future will be good
content: Feb 23, 2018 · podcast: Jun 4, 2020
Here’s a peek behind the curtain.
Maggie and I are both introverts. We’re most comfortable hanging out alone or with just one or two people. In the winter we isolate even more. It’s cold outside and neither of us are into sledding and all that wintery hoopla. After these past Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year holidays I was worried we’d hibernate on the weekends, just she and I in front of the TV watching Lost. I was worried we’d turn into The Shining twins or something come February.
With all that in mind we made a deal last month that she would have a get-together one weekend and then I would have one another weekend. Step outside of our comfy, familiar boxes because even though we have people over now and then, we don’t do it often. Nor do we have a lot of people over at once. Especially people that have never been over before.
Okay, now wait a second. Inviting new people over? That’s crazy talk. That’s inviting anxiety to come over and play in our heads.
Spiral downward with us for a moment if you will... What if people say no? What if nobody shows up? What if we run out of drinks? What if they don’t have a good time and then spread nasty rumors come Monday? Maggie said to me, “What if someone picks up the cats? What if a boy goes in my room? We’re gonna need rules, dad.”
So really is it worth it to even bother with get-togethers considering this kind disaster potential? With all this mental back and forth? With all the “I’ve never done this before” sinking kinda feelings. There’s so many messy variations and ugly permutations that planning something out of the ordinary can feel overwhelming, to the point where it’s easier just to shut down and not do anything.
But all of that is bullshit. A good way to just stay stuck. To live in the nuclear age of prepackaged TV dinners around ye boob tube. Where our neighbors are just strangers and the only people we know are on social media. I don’t know why it bothers me that I don’t know how tall my Facebook-only friends are. But it does.
Anyways, fear shouldn’t paralyze us from living life to it’s fullest or even doing the simple things that we want to do. If we think too much about how something can work or even if it could work, or if we’d feel awkward or out of place, we just end up in an anxious mind fuck where nothing happens and we never do anything. We miss out.
I tell myself to “stop thinking” all the time because I generally only end up with a list of reasons why not.
At the beginning of this month Maggie and I decided that none of that shit matters. We’d put ourselves out there and let everything else fall into place. Stay out of the doomsday predictions and let the cosmos take care of the rest.
So what if nobody comes? We should focus on the people that do, enjoy their company. They’re the ones that count come 6pm anyway. If we run out of drinks, big deal. The cats will take care of themselves, too.
Who gives a fuck what happens. It’ll be fun. Mark Manson’s “zero fucks given” mantra was about finding the appropriate things to give a fuck about. And I’m excited that you guys are coming over. That’s what I give a fuck about at the moment.
I’ll leave you with the tried and true: make plans but don’t plan the results.
Even better: make plans and assume the future will be good.
Also, if you feel socially awkward in general or even about just coming over, don’t worry much. All of my friends, all the people I invited are good people. Otherwise I wouldn’t be friends with them and they certainly wouldn’t be coming over. There's something about each of them that I admire and respect.
Mix it up, talk to people, see what happens. I can’t entertain all of you at once.
Follow up: here's some photos.
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