238. thirty day rule
Based on the last 30 days of interacting with your partner, your employer, or any other relationship, would they bring you back for another 30 days or could they find someone better to replace you?
If you are honest with yourself, the likely answer for most of us is “No.” The way you’ve shown up over the last 30 days is out of habit, or fear, or comfort, not the excitement or passion that consumed us over the first 30 days.
You show up day after day because it’s easy. It’s easy because it’s familiar. You can zone out, and make it through the day on autopilot. You are present without really having presence. You’re there, but you’re not because you checked out a long time ago.
Think back to the first interaction with your partner, the first interview for that job you wanted, the first sparks of passion you felt for the commitment you now simply show up for. Think about all the excitement you felt during those first 30 days. Now think about how much of that person still exists today.
Would your partner or employer re-up for another 30 days, based on the last 30?
In speaking on relationships, Esther Perel says that “your partner is a lease, with an option to renew.” Extending that metaphor to the broader context of this post — the relationship, or career path, or any situation you find yourself in is not a life sentence. They’re all experiences we have controlling interest in. There is no obligation to keep going. If the last 30 days aren’t in line with the first what’s the point of continuously renewing. If you aren’t showing up with the same fervor or feeling as you once did maybe it’s time to trade it in.
232. the dance of love
The paradox of love is that it requires a balance between two opposing forces: surrender and autonomy. We can only find togetherness, if we are able to maintain our separateness. As Esther Perel says in Mating in Captivity, “with too much distance, there can be no connection. But too much merging eradicates the separateness of two distinct individuals. Then there is nothing more to transcend, no bridge to walk on, no one to visit on the other side, no other internal world to enter.”
In this way, love is a dance. Watch any dancing couple, you will see that much of the time they exist together as one on the dance floor, while they’re isolated from one another at other times so they can fulfill their unique movements that create the performance. Holding each other in a tight embrace, not moving, is only interesting in the contrast of the separateness and explicit movements that follow. When people come together — in a relationship or in the expression of dance — connection is no longer able to happen as there isn’t anyone to connect with. Thus, separateness becomes necessary to create the potential for connection.