Flourishing Isn't Fair. But It's Everywhere.
Last night I went to a book event filled with amazing stories. And one that needs a rewrite.
Every morning, I do three things before I get out of bed: meditate, lose to my brother Marc at Wordle, and check to see if any of the books on my Kindle wish list have gone on sale. I’m like a hunter on the savannah, but instead of scanning for lions, I’m looking for books to buy. When I see one, I pounce.
This is a family affliction, and Marc, Dad and I will text each other, triumphant in our victory. Got four today!! Sometimes if I spot a new book roaming the wild, but I know Dad really wants it, I will withhold my click so he has the pleasure of conquest. This is how I show my respect to my elders.
So yes, my family is insane, but that’s not the point of this story. I’m here to talk about the apocalypse. Because I’m cool and enlightened and that’s what we do these days.
Virtue Signaling The End of the World
Last night I attended an online literary salon with the bookstore Tertulia, where four prestige editors introduced the books they were most excited to publish this year. There is just something wonderful about sharing space with people from all over the world who are nerdy in the exact same way that you are. The editors introduced us to these books, explaining why they fell in love. I’m an easy mark, so I fell in love too, four times in the first thirty minutes.
The Great Divide is the untold story of the Panama Canal, and as the editor detailed the cultural annihilation that progress wrought, I texted my brother, also on the Zoom:
It was just all delightful, until the editors finished their introductions, and the moderator opened up for questions from the audience and we dove right into the apocalypse.
Lawrence from Brooklyn had a question about Great Expectations, a coming of age novel written by Vinson Cunningham, a former Obama staffer. It’s a story about “how a young Black man's life is transformed while working on a Senator's campaign to become the first Black president.”
A feel good story of triumph written by a feel good story of triumph! Yay for books!
Then Lawrence asked his question.
“Isn’t it odd to publish this book knowing that when we elected Obama, we all felt such hope for the future, but now it’s all been destroyed and everything is terrible?”
Sigh. But really, are we surprised? And not just because Lawrence is from Brooklyn.
Whether you are on the political right or the political left or in the vast middle ground, it is a prerequisite to consistently note that the world is ending. “Extreme pessimism is now the go-to conversational stance,” noted David Brooks in The Atlantic this month.
The moderator nodded wisely. “Thank you, Lawrence,” she said. “I had the same question myself.”
And the editor of transitioned seamlessly in his sales pitch from triumph to tragedy.
“It’s true,” he said, and solemnly told us how the book was submitted to him on January 6, 2021, so it had the resonant power of chronicling a dream in the exact moment of its death.
“Pessimism (is) a membership badge — the ultimate sign that you are on the side of the good. If your analysis is not apocalyptic, you’re naive, lacking in moral urgency, complicit with the status quo.” - David Brooks
For a room filled with readers, writers and editors who soak up books for a living, we were all telling the same terrible story.
And I want to be clear: I’m not judging Lawrence, or the moderator, or the editor. I’ve been writing here for a while now, and every time I write something positive, I feel compelled to balance it out with my recognition that everything is terrible.
It’s the subtext of so much of my work, my coded message every week. Don’t judge me! Don’t ostracize me! The world is falling apart and I do notice!
It’s a story that we have all adopted, a story so ingrained that we barely even notice it’s a story.
A story so ingrained that we have forgotten the simple truth: it’s just a story. And we can change it.
We can write a better story.
We can write a truer story.
And maybe it’s not as hard as we think.
Flourishing All Around
Last week I introduced the concept of this year’s project: to flourish, no matter what. As David Brooks noted, as we are all deeply aware, it is super easy (and popular!) to notice all the ways we are falling apart.
But once you start to look, it is also possible to notice all the ways we are flourishing. All the ways flourishing is possible, in this moment in time, even with an election coming, even with the climate changing.
“Flourishing is the product of the pursuit and engagement of an authentic life that brings inner joy and happiness through meeting goals, being connected with life passions, and relishing in accomplishments through the peaks and valleys of life.”
— Lynn Soots, Ph.D.
Nowhere in this definition does Dr. Soots say that flourishing requires the world be fair, or good, or easy.
Flourishing requires simply that we work hard at something we love, that we surround ourselves with people who share our passions, that we believe we can make a difference through all the ups and downs of life.
What if this is not a story about how the world is falling apart?
What if this is a story about how the world is beginning to flourish, maybe, in a whole new way?
With Lynn’s definition in hand, let’s take another look at last night’s book event, like hunters on the savannah searching for flourishing, and hey. Do you see what I see? Look closely. It’s right there in front of us. Endless flourishing!
Last night, I was in a room filled with readers and writers coming together from all around the world to celebrate the endless possibilities and promise of stories that can change our lives. A room filled with people united in our love of ideas, in our shared commitment to the notion that the stories we tell can change the world.
To read about the Panama Canal is to remember: the world has always had terrors, but the world can always get better. We always have the ability to tell the stories we overlooked, to shine a light into the darkness, to learn from the sins of the past so we can do better in the future.
To read Great Expectations, then or now, is to remember: sometimes we have leaders who inspire us, and sometimes we have leaders who terrify us, sometimes our hopes are realized and sometimes they are shattered, but still we carry on.
To read I Heard Her Call My Name is to realize that the world is in many ways changing for the better, that people have the opportunity to find joy and connection in ways that once seemed possible.
To read Helen Garner, is to feel the delight of realizing that you can be an eighty year old Australian woman with your dreams far behind you, and then they suddenly come true, and the world sees how wonderful you have been all along.
This is my story. This is my project. And I hope it can become yours, too.
As far as I know, we only get to live this one time. And I am not going to waste it being miserable. Not when there are so many great books to read.
Not when there is a much better story to tell.
Not when there is a much truer story to tell.
Sometimes all we have to do to flourish is realize: we already are.
I’m also reminded of two books published in 2018, Pinker’s “Enlightenment Now” and Rosling’s “Factfulness.” Both came during a period of extreme pessimism and were filled with data showing things across the world were improving. It’s not what we look at but what we see that makes the difference.