What If This Summer Is Amazing?
I was chatting with my younger sister this morning and she mentioned that it was my nephew's last day of school. Which means all over America children are running out of buildings screaming: "FREEDOMMMMMM!" While a parents quietly Google: "How many days until September?" I can still remember the last day of school. Lockers getting cleaned out, signing yearbooks, that weird feeling in your stomach because the summer felt enormous. Three months of possibility stretched out in front of you. You know what I don't remember? I don't remember any of us worrying too much about it. I never remember thinking "Well, what if this summer isn't amazing?" Because we were absolutely convinced it was going to be amazing. We were certain there would be adventures, friends, stories, ice cream, sunburns, maybe a broken bone if you fully sent it. But, somewhere along the way, many of us lose that. As adults, we become obsessed with certainty. We want to know exactly how things will turn out before we agree to do them. Before we take the trip, start the business, raise our hand, ask someone out, or before we say yes, because we want guarantees. The problem is life doesn't offer many. In fact, most of the best things that have happened to me arrived looking suspiciously like uncertainty. Things that could have gone either way. Which brings me to one of my favorite pieces of research. Psychologists Thomas Gilovich and Victoria Medvec spent years studying regret and discovered something fascinating. In the short term, we regret the things we did that turned out badly. But over time? We regret the things we didn't do. The trip we didn't take. The conversation we didn't start. The opportunity we didn't pursue. The person we didn't call. The risk we didn't take. And I think that's because even the things that don't work out usually give us something. A lesson. A memory. A funny story. A cautionary tale. Material for therapy, or at the very least, something interesting to tell people over cocktails. But the things we never do? Those are harder to make peace with. Because they never become stories. They only become questions. They become our unwritten chapters. What if? What would have happened? Could I have? Should I have? And that's a much heavier thing to carry. So as summer officially begins, I have a challenge for you. Borrow a little of your twelve-year-old energy. Assume there is adventure ahead. Assume there are people you haven't met yet who will matter. Assume there are opportunities you can't currently see. Assume there are stories waiting to happen. And go create a few. Some of them won't work out. That's fine. Those usually make the best stories anyway. Just don't let September arrive with a list of things you were too afraid to try this summer. Enter fall sunburned. Enter fall tired. Enter fall with a few mistakes. Enter fall with a couple stories you're slightly embarrassed to tell. But don't enter fall wondering what might have happened if you'd just gone for it. The kids have it right. Sometimes you don't need a plan. Sometimes you just need to run out the door yelling: "FREEDOMMMMMM!" Now, speaking of things I absolutely did not see coming… Apparently this newsletter has become so popular and shared so much that a company reached out and asked if they could sponsor today's newsletter. I know. I was surprised too. So a huge thank you to all of you for making that possible. And thank you to the very first sponsor of this newsletter, which considering half of you are either parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, godparents, or have somehow found yourselves responsible for keeping a small human alive and educated over the next ten weeks is perfectly timed. Please take a moment to check them out below! Cheers,
P.S. If you like my work and want to support it, here are 3 ways! 1) Forward this newsletter to a friend and let them know they can subscribe here. 2) Buy my book 3) Bring me into your company to speak. (Either in person or virtual.) |
