You should care less

There's caring, and then there's caring. There's being aware, and then there's being hyper-vigilant. There's holding on, and then there's white-knuckling until you lose all feeling and flexibility in your fingers, arms, body… and soul. 

In his now-famous 'Sermon on the Mount,' Jesus told those listening to:

"Forsake [their] worries…"*

The Apostle Paul wrote to his friends in Philippi and said: 

"Do not fret or worry, don't be anxious about anything…"*

Which does not mean - even though you may have been told - that being anxious and worried are bad. Anxiety, fear, and worry are symptoms of care. You can not care about people and ideas and politics and policies and education and children and relationships and health and movements, and all the other things that one wants to care about without also experiencing fear and worry and anxiety over the journey and outcome of those things. It's what love does; it cares, it carries, it holds it all. 

These words of Paul and Jesus that have weaponised and turned into something they're not, I believe, simply mean care as much as is hopeful, but not too much that you become undone by it.

Just before he said, 'forsake your worries,' Jesus said: 

"Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to God than birds."

In her book Big Magic, Liz Gilbert said: 

"You want to write a book? Make a song? Direct a movie? Decorate pottery? Learn a dance? Explore a new land? Do it. Who cares? It's your birthright as a human being, so do it with a cheerful heart. (I mean, take it seriously, sure—but don't take it seriously.) Let inspiration lead you wherever it wants to lead you. Keep in mind that for most of history people just made things, and they didn't make such a big freaking deal out of it."

It seems there is a paradox here: to take life seriously, and live it all the way through, from the fears and anxieties to the pleasures and the joys, is not to be so serious; to care, but to also care a little less, to make it sacred, but to also revel in it, get messy with it, live the life pooled at your feet all the way up to the hairs on your head. 

This is the work of integration, of learning to live with the anxiety and the excitement, the fear and the love, the worry and the laughter, side by side. Perhaps, like me, for a while there, you sought a one-lane kind of life, believing that fear, worry, anxiety and the like cancelled out all the other good things, that they couldn't co-exist, that they somehow meant you weren't doing it right. And so, maybe like me, you doubled down, white-knuckled, got super very serious about doing the right thing, the right way, at the right time, to make the right impact, in front of the right people, to get the validation of finally being right. 

My love, life is a mixed bag of it all. There is no one-lane kind of way… in fact, there aren't even any lanes. So even when it comes to staying in your lane, as the saying goes, you're much better off following your curiosity than trying to remain on some kind of prescribed, predictable track. 

Be like the birds, free and unfettered, curious and hopeful, not a slave to a label or a map, not boxed in by an identity, careless in the care that they are held within, that they fly within, that they put their wings to the sun and sing into. 

This is a series about letting go and holding on, about holding the tension of caring, not taking it too seriously, just seriously enough to find your joy in a way that doesn't dismiss your sorrow. 

Consider this: You want to live a life? A good one? One that feels like it means something, has experienced something, has something to give, but is gloriously yours? Do it. Who cares? It's your birthright as a human being, so do it with a cheerful heart. (I mean, take it seriously, sure—but don't take it seriously.)

Written by Liz Milani
Instagram: @thepracticeco

From the upcoming series "Seriously?" this week, with a subscription, in the App.