When I talk to someone for the first time, the call usually goes one of two ways. In the first scenario, we talk for 9 minutes, check every administrative task and we’re done early. I even add a corny, “you get a few minutes back” at the end for good measure. In the second, we jump right into an existential, hypothetical, or random topic including everything from grandparents' last wishes to favorite music from the early 2000s. Yes really.
This week’s demo call was the second type of call. Nkem, my host from Greenhouse, and I jumped right into my explanation for why I never care if people are 5 minutes late to our calls. Yes, I know we only have 30 minutes. But look, if we were in an office? No one would say anything when you marched into the conference room 5 minutes late. It’s like we actually accepted there were people to talk to, stairs to climb, and bathrooms to be visited. The only difference now? The people in the hall are people we love and that’s all the more reason to stop and say hi. people are going to be late.
He told me he was in catch up mode after his first vacation last week as a family of four. As someone with no children, only dogs, I can only imagine how big of a relief it is for that to go well after months of midnight diaper changes and crying. “What was your favorite part?” I asked. I could see he was surprised I asked. I know most people don’t ask those kinds of questions. I guess I care less about the destinations than the highlights. I want to know what lights people up inside.
He paused for a moment. Then his smile grew so big as I saw his favorite moment arrive in his mind. He shared that a few days ago on the last night of the trip, he and his wife were in their daughter’s bedroom for bed time stories. They asked what her favorite part of the trip was. They had so many incredible experiences over the last week. Both parents were waiting for her to remember a ride or character from the week. Maybe the giant ice cream cone that melted down her arm as she raced to eat it. Instead, she said, “my favorite part was when daddy told me funny stories at night.”
My smile was almost as big as dad’s after hearing that story. Of all the amazing vacation moments she could have recounted, she picked the stories at bed time. She picked a moment I assume their family has every night when they sit together, read books, and tuck her in.
“Sounds like she pays attention to what matters,” I said. Kids are great like that. Without all of the lessons and persuasion that come from work, school, and family pressure, they can sense what’s most important. They naturally count what matters. We adults aren’t so good at that, at least I know I can speak for myself. I count a lot of stuff that doesn’t really matter: rejections, calories, how long it takes me to do certain tasks. Why? I don’t really know. None of it makes me happier.
I guess I have been tempted, like all of us in this timeline, into believing that joy and happiness are just on the other side of aspiration. That there’s a finish line we’re always moving toward and you just need to count your steps to arrive. That there’s only value in achieving, not becoming or being. I’ve tried counting it all to create some formula for a good life. I can tell you with 100% confidence you can skip that math if your pursuit is happiness.
For my happiness, I will count what matters. Things that bring me an unmistakable sensation of happiness that are not earned or bought, but simply noticed when I take the time to be present. The pennies I find that make me feel like something divine is watching over me, how many gluten free desserts I can fit in one box, and lightning bugs at bedtime.
