The Times

How has it been two months since I've written? Thanks for sticking around and I hope it was a great end of summer for you and yours.

I wrote "Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes" around this time in 2022. I had just quit my job and was at the start of Sadadical, spending the next two years mostly home with my kids.

That moment felt so consequential. Finally putting work in its place. Staying home with my kids before they start school. At the time, I figured that once life settled in, things would feel stable. Sadadical was, in my mind, one of those rare, massive life inflection points.

But WOW was I wrong. The past few years have felt like rapid fire change. Parents' health going downhill. The boys first day of preschool... and now kindergarten. New priorities in diet, fitness, sleep, and relationships. Starting a new (awesome) job. And after six days in NYC and DC traveling with only travel backpacks, we've learned the boys can now take real, actual vacations (and handle planes, trains, subways, and Ubers).

And boats.

Turns out Sadadical was one of many inflection points. Greek philosopher Heraclitus is credited with the saying, "There is nothing permanent except change." He was right. And I'm learning that change only accelerates with age. Inflection points are infrequent as an individual, but as a family of four, they happen a whole lot more. It feels like the inflection points aren't multiplied by four, but actually raised to the power of four.

So how do we handle it? When every year is more complex, how do we (try to) slow down, stay present, and embrace change rather than fight it?

Accept a lack of control

When we're young, we're only responsible for ourselves. We have at least some control over what, when, and how things happen. But when you add spouses, kids, friends, coworkers, and strangers, you add variables. And more variables mean less control.

For the first time in their lives, the boys are encountering mean-spirited teasing from other kids. I want nothing more than to make it stop, but a) dealing with assholes is part of life and b) it's frowned upon for adults to confront 5 year-olds. I can't control the teasing or how that kid's parents are raising him, so all I can control is helping my kids handle it.

I also can't control aging parents' health choices, coworkers' work ethic, how other drivers act, or the sudden inability to drink a single beer without feeling it the next day. My only choice is to accept what I can't control and focus my energy on what I can.

Indian philosopher and spiritual teacher J. Krishnamurti once gave a talk late in his life. He asked the audience “Do you want to know my secret?” Everyone went silent, straining to hear what he said, hoping he would give them the key to understanding. “This is my secret... I don’t mind what happens.”

That's a hell of a path to becoming comfortable with change.

Rugged flexibility

Shamelessly stealing this one from writer Brad Stulberg. In his book Master of Change, Brad introduces the idea of rugged flexibility, where successfully navigating change requires a combination of strength and agency (ruggedness) while also letting go of resistance and rigidity (flexibility).

We often fall into the trap where things have to be just right to feel comfortable with change. Rugged flexibility teaches that change isn't order -> disorder -> order, but rather order -> disorder -> reorder. Change is ever-present and we need to forget the idea that things will "get back to normal." They won't get back to anything. They'll be something completely new. And change becomes easier when we accept and embrace that we're never going back.

This is it

All [waves arms around indiscriminately] this? This is it. It's life. Kids dealing with teasing is part of growing up. Marriage problems aren't problems, they're part of marriage. The fear of losing a job you love is part of having a job you love. The need to take care of myself (and all these new gray hairs in my beard) are part of this phase of life.

We're not facing anything new. The world may feel oppressive, but we as humans aren't facing anything that humans haven't faced for thousands of years. And it's all part of being fundamentally human.

How boring would life be if it was nothing but sailing across calm seas? The hard times and tough moments are where life gets its texture. The long late-night parenting conversations and short after-school kid conversations. The pain of watching parents get older and sicker. The challenges of waking up early for a run, skipping the beer when you're stressed, and passing on the Doritos. And maybe the harder challenge of giving yourself grace when you fail.

None of these things are fun, but it's all part of it. We only get one shot at life. The inflection points, these huge changes, are what we'll be talking about on our rocking chairs in our 80s.

I quoted David Bowie in "Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes". But Bob Dylan may have the best line for all this: "For the times, they are a-changin."