LESSONS FROM A LOCKED DOOR
Why have I so often been drawn to the unavailable and the unattainable? How much time have I wasted longing for what’s behind a closed door?
A friend of mine said something to me a couple of weeks ago that bowled me over and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. He said “I’m realizing that if a door is locked that means that nothing I need is behind it.”
It led me to consider: Why have I so often been drawn to the unavailable and the unattainable? Why does it seem that the more out of reach a thing is the more I’ve historically coveted it? How much time have I wasted longing for what’s behind a closed door?
I think the reasons for this are equal parts nature and nurture. Eckhart Tolle suggests that the ego is structured this way (“The ego doesn’t want to have,” he writes. “It wants to want.”) And culturally these are the waters we swim in. Our economy is powered by scarcity and longing, dependent upon a citizenry whose discontent can only be slaked by the next new thing.
Perhaps – and I’m just riffing here – there’s something evolutionarily static about satisfaction, that our genes get nervous without something on the horizon to focus on and pine for. A sense that something is off or lacking can be a huge driver of individual and collective improvement. It’s also a recipe for misery.
In order to really get that there is nothing for us behind a locked door I think we have to accept and metabolize the idea that the universe is on our side (a big ask for some, I know). What if we’re not meant to be stuck in an endless cycle of craving? Liberation from that cycle seems to be the basis of much smart theology. As I said in my wedding vows in January, there’s no better feeling than to want the life you have.
Creative work is often ill-served by brute force. Some days writing is a slog and it feels like I’m having to swing a chisel at everything. But other days my brain and fingers feel synched up in a somewhat magical way. This is not meant to dismiss the inevitability and necessity of hard work. But I don’t think ‘sweaty art’ is necessarily the best art.
Being a professional actor all these years has taught me to trust effortlessness. Some doors were locked no matter how hard I banged on them while others were unlocked or even ajar and I just waltzed on through. The roles I’ve gotten were often not the result of some kind of bruising struggle. Rather they had the feel of inevitability about them. It felt like there was nothing I could do to not get this role.
I can hear some pushback to this: What about ambition? What about bettering our lives and the world? Don’t we have to fight against unjust and untenable situations with everything we have?
The short answer to the last question is yes. But I think it also serves us to pay deep attention to where there is movement and where there is stasis. If we’ve been fighting the same battle for years and years and have nothing but losses to show for ourselves, it might be wise to reconsider our tactics. Or even the battle itself.
Give this Tim Ferris interview with Elizabeth Gilbert a spin when you have a chance. It’s loaded with wisdom. In it she explains her “Dear Love” letter-writing movement, wherein she encourages people to take pen and paper and write “Dear Love, what would you have me know today?” And then listen for the answer and transcribe what you hear.
Another term for this is “Two-way prayer.” Most prayer is what Gilbert calls “One-way prayer,” where the praying person talks and talks but they rarely listen back for the answer. Ferriss helpfully adds it’s like playing “Marco Polo” where the “Marco-er” never listens back for the “Polo.”
It’s been my experience that we’re in dialogue with the universe. Our actions – the manner in which we live our lives – are our words in this endless on-going prayer. But we also have to pause and listen to the messages coming back to us.
I sometimes bristle when HIMYM fans write me and say that they’ve been rejected romantically by someone but like Ted Mosby, they’re never going to give up. I think that’s the wrong lesson to have gleaned from the series and character. (I’m actually working on a longer piece about this very thing, keep an eye out for it.)
There’s a big difference between resilience and stubbornness. Sometimes a locked door is a gentle redirect away from that which is not meant for us, like the universe imposing a child proof cap on something that would be toxic for us.
For years I wanted that which didn’t want me. In fact, the very fact or threat of the rejection increased the longing for the thing. (Romantically this is by now a cliché, that we’re often most attracted to the people who seem to display little to no interest in us, and betray a fundamental mistrust of those who do.) At some point, this just gets tiresome. Longing is exhausting. It casts us as the orphan at the window watching the rich people feast rather than realizing we’ve our own feast. We just have to turn towards it.
Depending on the day I can tell myself wildly different stories about my career. One story— when I’m tired and spiritual unfit—has me running through a litany of grievances, regrets, missed opportunities, and roads not taken. When I’m in a better frame of mind, I see nothing but abundance and success. It takes real, sustained work to stay in a grateful frame of mind. I try to remember the spiritual maxim that we tend to grow more of what we focus upon—if we focus on lack, we get more lack. If we focus on abundance, we grow more abundance.
We always have a choice. This is becoming clearer to me the older I get. And when I see the choices laid out in front of me, when I reach these inevitable forks in the road, I try to ask myself: Which path leads to more sanity, more inner peace, more connection, less dissonance, less drama, less meaninglessness? It doesn’t serve me to choose that which is not also choosing me. I try to remember: Go where it’s warm.
While you’re reading this I’ll be at a ten day silent meditation retreat. No phones, no screens, no social media, no books, no music, no writing, no speaking. I’ve never spent that much time in silence and I’m quite terrified of the inevitable boredom and discomfort. But I also know there’s no better laboratory in which to observe the mind doing all its dances. I’m sure I’ll have endless ideas for future Museletters while I sit, and I’m excited to reconnect with all of you on the other side. Happy December and here’s to effortlessness!
Album Out Now
My new record Eulogy: Volume 2 came out Friday, December 6. These eleven tracks were recorded by my talented buddy Kyle Cox in Nashville. They’re more stripped down than their cousins on Volume 1 (just acoustic guitar and a little harmonica) and this release brings the Eulogy chapter in my life to a close (it’s been a big chapter!) Please check out the whole 23 song project if you can. They’re basically Museletters in musical form :) Oh and if you want a copy of Eulogy: Volume 1 on vinyl featuring Jon Marro’s great cover design, those are available here.
Going on Tour
I’m thrilled to announce that I’ll be hitting the road for the Eulogy Vol. II tour next year. I can’t wait to play these new songs (and more) for you all in person.
Here’s what you need to know about the tour:
Fan Presale:
Date: Wednesday, December 11th, 2024 (TODAY)
Presale: EULOGY
General On-Sale
Date: Friday, December 13th, 2024
Time: 10:00 AM Local
Here’s where I’ll be:
04.25 Alberta Rose Theatre in Portland, OR (tickets)
04.27 Great American Music Hall in San Francisco, CA (tickets)
04.29 The Sofia in Sacramento, CA (tickets)
05.09 The Woodward Theater in Cincinnati, OH (tickets)
05.16 Jammin’ Java in Vienna, VA (tickets)
05.17 Rams Head On Stage in Annapolis, MD (tickets)
See below for more details.
I’ll see you out there!
Josh
Loved Adam Grant’s piece in The New York Times: “If You’re Sure How the Next Four Years Will Play Out, I Promise: You’re Wrong.”
“Nick Cave’s Revised Rules for Men: On his new album, he searches out salvation in the face of insecurity and irrelevance.” By Spencer Kornhaber
Reading Christian Wiman’s latest, Zero at the Bone: Fifty Entries Against Despair, and this chapter knocked me out: “Issues of Blood.”
“How R.E.M. Created Alternative Music: In the cultural wasteland of the Reagan era, they showed that a band could break through to mass appeal without being cheesy, or nostalgic, or playing hair metal.” By Mark Krotov
“Bo Burnham’s ‘That Funny Feeling’ Is Taking Over TikTok After Trump’s Win: The 2021 song is a litany of anxiety and dread—and the covers are just what we need right now.” By CT Jones.
“The Painted Protest: How politics destroyed contemporary art” by Dean Kissick.
Peter Wehner talks with Richard Hays. '“A God Who Continually Surprises Us”: A Q&A With a Theologian Who Changed His Mind About Gay Marriage.”
The Most Controversial Game on the Internet: Wyna Liu, the editor of the New York Times game Connections, discusses her process and the particular ire her puzzles inspire. By Elaine Godfrey