Paths - 022 — Jake Kahana

*"Edgware, Hendon and Mill Hill” pen and ink portrait by* *Ed Fairburn*

Dear {FirstName | Friend},

Today marks the weekend between Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, and Yom Kippur, the day of atonement. The Jewish calendar is intentional in starting the year with a celebration and giving us a full week to examine the past year and make plans for the year ahead.

But regardless of your religious beliefs, this period of introspection comes at an interesting time. We just marked 6 months since COVID lockdown here. This weekend could be a time to reflect on how this last year has changed us and what we’ve done to actively adapt.

Today I'm reflecting on the paths we've chosen and the new paths ahead– what it means to continually tread over the same ground, to pave new ones, to intersect with others, and to leave some paths untraveled.

Let’s head out.

*Peanut 2012 by Mimimiam* *(Pierre Javelle and Akiko Ida)*

Watering The Plants

When my friend Sara was a little girl, she and her family moved into a new house with a long, unpaved driveway. As the first Winter faded, her father planted trees along both sides. For years he would go out and spend time watering, mulching, and pruning the trees. Decades later, Sara left for college, her parents moved, and she forgot about the house.

But recently, she happen to be visiting nearby and decided to go back. The once tiny trees were now a tunnel of lush branches and leaves towering over the path to the house. Squirrels jumped branch to branch and birds sang in the flourishing canopy. It was awe-inspiring.

It’s made me think differently about how I’m spending my time. For the last 15 years, I’ve had an organized spreadsheet of goals that I take very seriously. The end of the year involves an intense review process, writing new goals and laying out my commitments for the year.

But the last few months, punctuated by Sara’s story, has created a shift in me. Moving away from a mindset of goal setting and list-making into a mindset of habit building. Goals are important, but they seem somewhat arbitrary. I’m also realizing that the person I am when I set the goal is often different than the person I am when I cross it off. And once I achieve it, it’s over. There's little thought on process and the focus is merely on getting it crossed off.

Habits, by contrast, are all process. They're small actions building towards impact on a larger scale.

If I spend 10 minutes a day learning to speak Hebrew, what will I be able to show for it in 10 years? If I stretch daily, what will that do to my health in 20 years? If I write every morning, what will I be able to express or publish in 40 years? What will I have accomplished if I send an Email Refrigerator every month for the next 60 years?

Habits are like watering a tree. The action by itself may feel insignificant. But over time, we are capable of nurturing saplings into giants.

*Strandbeest, one of many wind-propelled kinetic sculptures by* *Theo Janssen*

How to Diffuse a Landmine

I know that every landmark

Triggers memories

Of stupid places and silly things

That were meaningless before

We'd seen them together

-Excerpt from the song “Meaningless” by Jon Brion

In our relationships, we create little memories and stories out nothing. We’re reminded of them as we run into that old neighborhood. Put on that hat. Hear the accent in that stranger’s voice. They can be fun little reminders of the depths of our relationship. As we grow closer, these jokes and memories pepper our world, as if we are burying little treasures all over.

But sometimes, especially for old relationships, we alter the meaning of these flashbacks.

On an unassuming day, we may rediscover an old joke and instead of feeling as though we’ve rediscovered buried treasure, it feels more like we’ve tripped over a land mine. We step on it and set off an explosion of memories. Heartbreak. Boom! Fear. BOOM! Loss. KABOOM!

So what do we do? We can’t necessarily just avoid these mines our whole life. Missing out on locations, conversations, and activities for fear of enduring another explosion (can we?). Part of moving forward from a broken relationship or loss of a person is learning to diffuse the minefield.

One way to diffuse the mine is to reclaim a location. Does the park conjure memories of an ex? Does Paris have connections to loss? Reclaim it! Go back. Create new memories. Bring someone else. Make it new again and take it back as your own. Build new memories on top of old.

Another way is purposefully tripping a memory land mine. Put on some armor– be prepared with a reliable friend on call, a journal, an album, or just time. And then go to it. Let the memory go off and just sit with the feeling. Allow it to pass (in a moment, or maybe even a few days, or weeks). The blast loses its power with exposure and time.

If we can reframe treasures into mines, we can just as soon diffuse the mines and create new treasures. Recommit ourselves to new jokes, plant new treasures to spend the rest of our lives going about the world and rediscovering them, one at a time.

*The Space in Which We Travel by Calida Garcia Rawles*

An Unexpected Gift

Remember “My Best Friend’s Wedding”? The premise revolves around Julia Roberts and Durmot Mulroney having a pact that they would get married if they were both still single by 28. TWENTY EIGHT. As if we spoil by 30 and should be ready to give up all hope of discovering a partner (let alone ourselves) before we turn 28.

It’s easy to poke fun at that story, but a lot of us have mental deadlines we’ve set. 40 countries by 40. Kids by 35. Start a company by 32. You’ve surely made it if you hit the Forbes 30-under-30 list (hear my sarcasm?).

What if that thing we thought would happen in the next year actually takes 5? Or 10?

There’s a saying in Hebrew when someone announces she’s pregnant. We’re very superstitious, so we don’t say “congratulations” which assumes a healthy baby. We say “b’shaAH tohVAH” which literally translates to “in good time” or basically “when it’s ready, it’ll happen.”

In some ways, we are all Julia Roberts in 1997 making terrible guesses about how we’ll feel decades from now and when we’ll be ready for the biggest choices in our lives. We make bad predictions about our future lives.

The last 6 months have us rethinking our timelines. Most of us are looking ahead, asking questions about the path we’ve designed for ourselves. When will I go on my last first date? Get married? Move? Change jobs? Have kids? Move abroad? Be fully anti-racist (hint: maybe never)? We can help push these milestones forward but we certainly can’t force them to just happen.

Important things take longer than we expect. And if we’re on a longer timeline than we originally planned, we’ve unintentionally been given a gift. We have been given time. Our paths are longer than we expect them to be. So what will we do with that extra time while we’re waiting for these milestones to formulate and happen?

And that thing each of us is planning for and waiting to have happen?

b’shaAH tohVAH.

*“Endless Summer” by Andria Darius Pancrazi*

Thank You

As every month, thanks for opening up the refrigerator and spending some time here with me. I’m grateful that you read this far and always love hearing your thoughts if this sparked anything for you.

And if you know someone who might like this, please share it with them.

Water those plants,

Jake

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@jakekahana | jakekahana.com

RESOURCES

Shabbat Shuvah (One Table)

Building A Peace Narrative (Charles Eisenstein)

Constitutional Amendment (Wikipedia)

List of Amendments to the Constitution (Wikipedia)

Making Amends In Recovery (Betty Ford Foundation)