I spent the weekend in upstate New York, meditating at an ashram. Eating vegan food. Doing yoga. You know. Getting my Henry David Thoreau on. My favorite example of someone trying to do this and failing was Jack Kerouac’s novelistic alter-ego in his book, Desolation Angels. He tried to be a Washington State fire lookout, went bonkers in the solitude, and fled for San Francisco, desperate for distraction, before leaving the country for Mexico.
These days we’d call that “relatable content.” In fact, the last time I did the ashram thing I drove my colleagues a little mad, myself, by asking them philosophical questions for a couple of weeks. I mean, what even is a meeting? What does a deadline really mean? Then I quit my job and started my own business, so I guess everything evened out in the end 🤣
That’s me, blissed-out on too much tofu and downward-dog, in the picture. This time, I came back with a valuable piece of advice. Having sat through an hour-long conversation about the value of scholarship versus common sense, and likewise, another 20 minutes about the omnipotence of the human spirit, the wise ashram elder lady leading the conversation said this:
“Try to forget everything we’ve talked about. It’s a good technique. That way, only the most important parts will stick around in your brain.”
What a great idea when you’re thinking about a piece of storytelling. Or better yet, if I try to forget the last 20 years of my career, what remains? What about that press release I wrote last Tuesday? Wait. Which press release? I mean, what even is a press release, anyway?
I’ll spare you too much more of this. But you know. Try to forget everything. That’s my advice. Then tell me: What remains?
I really do think there’s a huge amount of room for more of us to be a little more philosophical about our working lives.
Also: Kudos to my new friend, Bryony, who got in touch to tell me about her upcoming newsletter. It’s going to be called, “Why the f__k did I move to rural Wales without a car?” And I think we can all agree, it’s going to be well worth a subscription. Assuming she doesn’t just buy a car before she hits send on the first one.
What would Henry David Thoreau do? That’s the question.
