Letting go of excitement

I turned 40 earlier this year, which really wasn’t much of a notable occasion. I wasn’t dreading it like many people do. I didn’t throw myself a party—pity or otherwise. I celebrated the milestone by going on a retreat with my best friend, having dinner with my family, and raising a few glasses with my colleagues. The whole thing was very low key, which felt comfortably appropriate for this moment in my life.

If I’m being honest, not many things these days make me feel “excited,” at least not in the standard definition of the word. I remember having a distinct sensation of excitement many times when I was younger—I’d get that butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling before big life events, or trips, or even pitches at work. There was almost a stage-play happening inside my body and mind, where I’d try to imagine what it would feel like once the big moment came. What would I be doing? What would other people be doing? What would the surroundings feel like? How different would reality be than the scenes in my head? In a sense, I was rehearsing the future so that I’d have something to look forward to. And so when the time finally came, I’d have something to compare it with.

In the words of Teddy Roosevelt (and many psychologists and Buddhists), though, “Comparison is the thief of joy.”

Comparison always leaves us striving for more, for better, for bigger. When we measure ourselves against our own expectations, or someone else’s accomplishments, we rob ourselves of appreciating what’s actually true—what’s happening in this moment, right here, right now. As I look back on my younger self, I can’t help but wonder if the excitement I used to feel was more rooted in anxiety than joy. All of the questions I’d ask myself…the scenarios I’d conjure up…the “what ifs” that masqueraded themselves as playful daydreaming. I associated the intense pondering and buzzy physical sensations with something positive. Anticipation, maybe? But I clung to that feeling so much that I also wonder if in some ways, I was addicted to it. I never felt settled in my current self, so I was always grasping for something imaginary, something more exciting, in the future. If I wasn’t in planning-mode—planning a trip, planning a creative idea, planning something for my kids, even planning my next unnecessary online shopping splurge—I felt lost. Purposeless, even.

I find myself doing very few of those things lately, and by extension, that very specific feeling of excitement, or anticipation, or grasping, or whatever it was is also noticeably absent. There have been times that I’ve questioned whether or not this is normal. Are the antidepressants just numbing everything? Why don’t I feel the same kind of buzzy-ness that I used to? Why don’t I “look forward” to things the same way anymore?

But then I remind myself that what I was doing for all those years wasn’t healthy, either. By always looking forward, I was never being actively present. And by comparing what I’d imagined to what really happened, I was essentially always looking backward, too. I was trying to escape reality in both directions.

I think the reason I don’t have those same experiences anymore is because I’ve been working so hard to be where I am, rather than where I wish I could be. I don’t rehearse the future as often. I don’t measure reality against past expectations. Or at least, I am far more conscious about trying not to. I do still get excited about things, but in a very different way. For instance, I found out last night that three of my favorite meditation teachers will be holding a retreat together next October. Every cell in my body got all bubbly, like the effervescent fizz of a freshly poured glass champagne. It was like my insides were dancing. Yes, part of the sensation was from imagining how wonderful it would be to experience that retreat, but the other part just felt like bright, poppy delight in the present moment of discovering it. Pure happiness at the chance to do something so personally meaningful. I fully plan on attending this retreat, but I also plan not to spend too much time anticipating it. I want to experience it for the first time when I get there in person, not on some made-up stage in my mind.

Working on being present has helped me unravel my need for constant anticipation or excitement (which was really anxiety in sheep’s clothing), and instead, embrace the calmness that surrounds the more mundane moments of everyday joy. I may not be experiencing things with the same intensity anymore, but I’ll choose the more peaceful river over the turbulent ocean every single time.

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Things I’ve been doing lately besides writing