*Typing*

Playing out all the potential outcomes in your head until you’re so crippled with anxiety you can’t take another step, doesn’t protect you from (nor prepare you for) the problem to come.

Instead, all this worrying fictionalizes the problem into something far worse than it really is. What we think is behind the door is usually scarier than what is actually behind the door. 

And so we’re better off opening the door before we’ve had the chance to make monsters out of the dark inside—and trust that we have the self-resilience to face whatever is on the other side.

What a wonderful existence. To take in as much art as humanly possible. To rise in the morning and collect art the way bees collect pollen. To enjoy Bach while making breakfast. To read Austen while drinking your morning coffee. To listen to Billie Holiday while driving into work. To gaze upon one of Van Gogh’s 900 paintings during lunch. To fall asleep to Casablanca after trying your hand at a recipe thought up by some culinary genius in a tall white hat. What a wonderful existence. To take in as much art as humanly possible.

Everything will be okay the day you no longer need everything to be a certain way.

The Buddhists call this acceptance.

Acceptance, is our ability to be fully present in each of life's moments (even when life's moments aren't going according to plan).

Finding acceptance when life is going to hell in a hand-basket can be difficult.

Because of this, it can be helpful to have some sort of reminder to yourself to accept what is happening rather than fight it.

For Andy Warhol, this reminder came in the form of the words 'so what'...

“Sometimes people let the same problem make them miserable for years when they could just say, So what. That's one of my favorite things to say. So what.”

I've driven about 32 hours in the past two days from Los Angeles, California to Nashville, Tennessee. You spend that much time behind the wheel and you start noticing little peculiarities that not everybody picks up on. For example, last night I noticed how often semi trucks flash their lights. I made a mental note to look into it a bit further once at home and in front of my computer. Apparently, semis flash their lights for several reasons: To warn of a speed trap, to say "thank you", to let other drivers know they've got room to pass or to alert of an obstacle up ahead. I find it to be an interesting metaphor for all the unspoken communication we share with strangers on a daily basis: the smiles, the nods, the waves, the stares, the winks and the looks all mean something. If you take the time to really notice, we're constantly talking to one another without actually talking to another.

Conditional happiness is exactly as its name implies. It's happiness as long as the conditions are right. It's happiness as long as you're not sick. It's happiness as long as you're not fighting with your spouse. It's happiness as long as you're not in debt. It's happiness as long as your flight isn't delayed. It's happiness as long as you're not underperforming at work. It's happiness as long as nobody is mad at you.

Conditional happiness is exhausting. It's exhausting because you must constantly be in control of the conditions in your environment in order to be happy.

Eventually, happiness must become a choice. It must be a choice that you make on the best of days and the worst of days; on the days when the universe is in total alignment and on the days when hell has opened its gates and unleashed a shitstorm of misfortune.

Until you remove the conditions surrounding your happiness, you will never be happy. Not truly.

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