It seems like the news has been particularly full of speculation since the start of the pandemic.
I can appreciate having subject matter experts give us their predictions. There’s so much uncertainty, the promise of predictions is enticing. However, all too often articles don’t seem to be based on very much expertise or data. It’s only after I’ve clicked and started to read that I realize I’m reading speculative nonsense.
My mind is quite adept at generating anxieties. I don’t need anyone else to help.
New Years resolutions are supposed to be specific and actionable, I know. I keep picking vague ones that aren’t measurable at all. As a recovering analytics person, I’m learning to appreciate the things we can’t measure.
My resolution for 2022 is to shift away from speculation.
It’s helpful to be able to consider what might realistically happen and prepare for it…to a point. My goal is to get better at recognizing when I’ve hit that point. I’d like to skip the conjecture and rumination, to step away from the drive to predict and control.
How likely is this to happen?
Will preparing for this have a meaningful impact on the outcome?
How much of this is based on reality?
Is this a good use of my time?
There have been plenty of opportunities in my life to recognize how much my sense of control is an illusion. I rarely learn a life lesson a single time — so far there’s been a lot of learning, forgetting, and relearning. The pandemic has really helped me recognize that I’m not the one calling the shots.
There’s a sense that if we do things right, things will go right. If we do well in school, we’ll get a good job. If we treat people well, they’ll be there for us when we need them. If we’re careful, we’ll stay safe.
Life isn’t so simple.
Thankfully, life’s complexities also mean it’s difficult to predict what the “right” outcome is. There are happy plenty of happy accidents. Things don’t necessarily need to be happy to be good. It’s difficult to imagine a life that’s both easy and meaningful.
Considering the amount of time I’ve spent predicting the future, I’m terrible at it.
I haven’t developed a system to track it. Still, even a cursory looking back suggests that no matter how creative I’ve been when imagining what might go wrong, the universe is far more creative than I am. And so often things I knew were going to be a problem went just fine, while things I saw no reason to worry about turned into fiascos.
What am I good at is figuring things out in the moment.
It’s a lot easier to find ways to deal with things that are actually happening, rather than hypothetical scenarios.
The past two years have been particularly awful years for many of you. Many people are in nightmare scenarios right now, where no amount of resilience is enough. This bit in Men Yell at Me struck me:
“Our culture fetishizes resilience. The people who persist. The people who persevere. Despite all the odds. Etc. Etc. But what about us quitters? The ones who stopped? The ones who cried uncle? The ones who had enough and just couldn’t anymore? The ones who walked away? Or were forced away and then refused to come back. I don’t think we like those stories because we want to see people triumph over the mess of our society as a roadmap for our own triumphs. But, also, I think our culture fetishizes triumph because it makes it easier to pretend our system isn’t broken. If that person can succeed, we reason, our society is not so bad. But it is so bad.”
As Ai-Jen Poo told Ezra Klein:
“We all just realized that we can do the very best we can, do everything right, and it’s not sufficient, because there is infrastructure and a work force and systems that are required to support something as fundamental to the functioning of society and the economy as care.”