Rejection Letters, Random Run-ins With Friends, and Don't Hoard The Moments.

Hey Friend | Daily Letter July 2nd

Hey Friend,

My eyes sting with tears. I coax the tears to stay put. Please don’t coast down my cheeks because I’m in Whole Foods scanning another rejection email.

“Thank you so much for all the careful time…”

“We truly enjoyed getting to meet you…”

“You are clearly a positive force…”

They all sound the same now. I can’t ever read them word for word, no matter how personal and sweet employers try to make them. At the end of the day, it’s just a simple— unfortunately, we picked someone else.

After my interview yesterday, I felt renewed hope. The sun was out, and I felt swept up in a rush of confidence. The position was one I’d been eyeing for a couple of years, so when it came up, I lunged! I genuinely thought they would welcome me back for the second round of interviews.

I let the disappointment and sadness roll through my body while also watching the hustle and bustle of normal life whirl around me. It’s cathartic.

I smile at the mom next to me with her two small kids, relishing her rare moment of quiet while they eat their slices of pizza.

I chuckle to myself as people pick up their Amazon packages presents, and tear them open at the table in front of me, anxious to see if the screen matches reality.

I marvel at the guy slinging huge rounds of pizza dough into the air as he shapes and forms it like a crazy sculptor.

Then, I buzz with warm energy as I spy a dear friend waltzing through the cafe with her drink in hand. I will catch her on her way out, I think.

Ten minutes later, I’m laughing and swearing and smiling. My friend and I have an impromptu conversation about how things are going in my new place, her late-night concert shenanigans, and what’s next for her growing business.

Endorphins shoot through my body, and I feel the love and joy bubbling up from unknown reservoirs.

Indeed, life contains all four seasons in twenty-four hours, sometimes twenty-four minutes!

I left my rejection email out of our conversation completely; honestly, I never even thought about it. I was too caught up in the mesmerizing magic of being alive and present with my friend.

I read a chapter in a book this week, Meditations for Mortals, and in it Oliver Burkeman makes the case that we can’t hoard life. We must let moments pass. He was writing about our tendency to collect the good things (snapping tons of photos, for instance) and our obsession with trying to savor moments or make them last longer. Thus, we are never really experiencing life as it is, in front of us.

I think we also do this with heartbreaking events too. We are either trying to savor or sulk, both are ways to stay in the moment longer, to hoard life.

Being around the movement of an ordinary Thursday in Whole Foods forced me to practice releasing time back into the river. A sweet friend slipped in beside me for a few minutes, and then she had to be on her way. The unfortunate email slid across my screen and will never be looked at again.

Life doesn’t ask us to keep overstuffed storage units or heavy memory books. We are the ones who refuse to let go.

What if it’s enough to let the moments sneak up on us, with all their titillating surprise or terrible shock, inviting them to sit down and stay awhile, and then flow back out the door?

Sigh…I feel lighter already.

Sending you so much love today,