Suboptimal summer
Allowing yourself and others to rest and wander
Happy summer to those of you in this part of the world. Mentally, I have downshifted into summer a little aimless, a little wandery. I don’t really know what I want to accomplish, and I’m not in a hurry to figure it out. I’m traveling, I’m reading books, I’m growing artichokes, I’m taking long walks and following birds, I’m volunteering, I’m eating all of the stonefruit and chips, I’m watching sports (mainly an excuse to eat the aforementioned chips and, also, fellowship). Still working, of course, and still being active, but it’s just not as urgent. This pace is in direct opposition to the maxxing and monitoring and AI-ing that is pushing people into hyperspeed in the other direction, encouraging us to be hyperfixated on goals and certainty and achievement. People are biohacking in order to become… more human? Less human? I’ve never been sure what the goals are of lifestyles like this. In this article about people giving up their obsessive tracking, one guy admitted, “I’m kind of just optimizing stuff for optimization’s sake.” How is this living.
Where does this leave me in my quest to not optimize, to remain just as I am? Maybe I’m just suboptimal, meaning below the highest, best, or most effective level. Or I could possibly be unoptimized, a term borrowed from the world of coding, meaning something that is inefficient or consumes more resources than it actually needs to function. This would explain all the chips I’ve been eating — definitely more than I require to function. It’s also possible that I’m pessimized, which would be me deliberately making myself worse, less efficient, fast and functional. Honestly, I’m fine with any of these. I will function in the fall. It’s suboptimal summer. I’m slowing down, and I’m not mad at it. Have you seen this or other variations on the meme —
Me and my friends being left behind by AI:
Now that looks like a damn good time. I’ve been finding joy in hosting gatherings and even a blues show to bring folks together. Nothing feels as good as getting lost in a moment with actual people, with no specific task in mind other than enjoying each other.
In terms of generosity and philanthropy, what this newsletter is ultimately supposed to be about, I have also been reflecting on the importance of allowing others rest. Or more like, what systems need to look like if we believe in practicing being suboptimal. I’m calibrating my expectations for productivity and functionality. I’m giving space to others to celebrate their communities and not always pushing them to be measuring and monitoring. The suboptimal in me honors the suboptimal in you 🪷. Ruthless efficiency can grind at folks, especially when the sociopolitical environment is so hostile to people in need. There have been so many emergencies in the last year and a half that has led to an erosion of response time to moral crises because there are simply so many. I find myself feeling nothing when I see bombings in Lebanon or sitting through one more meeting, in the abstract, about homelessness. I want to enjoy things and enjoy others so I can care about them appropriately again.
We’re not exhausted because life is hard.
We’re exhausted because we are living it in
a way that goes against our soul’s mission
that was given to us when we were put on
this earth. And that mission is to love,
build, share, create, connect, and leave the
world a better place than we found it.
Karim Wafa-Al Hussaini
There is a lot to do, of course, and very many things to be concerned about. I’m not talking about checking out or dissociating. I’m trying instead to focus on strengthening through community, by building a more lovely and compassionate world IRL so that I have the energy and desire to remain engaged and outraged and delighted at all the appropriate times. Burning out and crashing out are alternatives, which seem, to me at least, to be hastened by a constant push to optimize. I’m taking longer meetings, really making sure I hear people. I also want to be in nature, even though there are mosquitos and it is humid AF. I want to eat the cheese plate even though there are calories. I want to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin even though I should probably reapply sunscreen. I find myself enjoying the friction, even the fact that friction slows me down. It means I’m real. It means I am grounded in a life and a body and have limits. It means that I will die. But that’s okay. Who cares if my biological age is 27 if I am insufferable about my routine.
The British artist David Hockney passed away last week. I do appreciate that social media allows for a time after someone has died to celebrate what they said, what they made and how they made us feel. In addition to his famous pool paintings, Hockney seemed to have a pretty chill outlook on life. He wrote this during the pandemic:
Idiots that we are, we have lost our link with nature even though we are part of it completely. All of this will end one day. What lessons will we learn? I’m 83, I’m going to die. We die because we are born. The only things that matter in life are food and love, in that order, and also our little dog Ruby. I truly believe this, and for me, the basis of art is love. I love life.
I love life 🥹. Focusing on food and love is not a bad way to do it. Simplifying and slowing down can be meaningful. It doesn’t have to be enhanced to be worthwhile. Water, for instance. You do not need collagen with goat colostrum in your water for it to be hydrating. And, look, you can track your run on Strava or optimize your morning routine. Knock yourself out. But there is also joy to be found in the friction. There is imperfect and glorious humanity to be found outside the shadow of AI data centers and autonomous vehicles. Go watch a World Cup game at a bar. Go swim in waters of questionable provenance. Drink from a coconut. Lay in the grass and get itchy. Go pessimize yourself and be less fast and less functional, just for a bit. And hopefully you can make space to invite, encourage and celebrate others who are doing the same. Our society is chasing the idea that there is a better world just on the other side of tracking x or maxxing y (and don’t even get me started on AI…). What if we just need to take better care of the world we have and of who we have around us. If you want to go fast, go alone and all that. I truly believe refusing to “optimize” and embracing each other, embracing friction will make us, dare I say, optimal in the long run.
INTO IT
Love + War — I recently watched the Lynsey Addario documentary. I have her photobook on my coffee table and loved her memoir. The doc catches up with her more recently.
Cherry 🍒 coke — the drink of summer.
Friends publishing books — My friend Allen Rogers has his second children’s book in the series - Mabee at the Market - out now. My friend Jessica Goudeau published a cozy murder mystery - A Zoom with a View. Another friend Rachel Goble Hara wrote a book about her adorable daughter called The Little Jaguar. My boss has his book - Success Unshared is Failure - out June 30!