Costs are inevitable; time is irreplaceable
Dear Reader,
It feels like I’ve been busy this past month. No audio with this short letter because I’m just too busy. Which is interesting because ostensibly I’m still writing full time, but I haven’t been doing any writing at all lately. And my life has gotten unexpectedly chock full of romance, but not in the way of reading. So, ok, just what have I been so busy with?
Turns out, all the words of wisdom out there on polyamory that suggest it’s a lot about scheduling? Not wrong.
Time is interesting. Our experience of time is so subjective.
Earlier this month I spent a fleeting few days outside of time at Love Burn, a regional burner festival outside Miami. It was delightful. Burning Man is sort of famous for being a place where people partake in various mind-altering substances, but for what it’s worth, I spent my time at Love Burn pretty much sober (just a couple drinks) and still found it plenty mind-altering.
I first learned about the original Burning Man years ago through the writing of John Halcyon Styn, whose work I used to follow on Prehensile Tales and then Cocky Bastard. That’s some old-ass internet right there — those sites are kinda broken now, but they were pretty cleverly constructed back in the day. He’s an interesting character whose work has mostly embodied a very strong spirit of living love out loud. I haven’t followed along with what he’s been doing lately, but looks like … ha, looks like he has a Substack now! Of course he does.
One of the little life stories Halcyon shared years ago has stuck with me, and it comes back to me on a pretty regular basis. It’s the one about the time he left his backpack in a waiting cab, only the cab stopped waiting and took off. He lost his driver’s license and about $500 worth of stuff (nearly $900 in today’s dollars, according to the Consumer Price Index inflation calculator). Which was not awesome, ok. But rather than getting cynical about it, he decided to reframe the experience as an optimism tax, because “Spending $500 every once-in-a-while is a small price to pay to be able to continue trusting people.”
Over the past 20+ years, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve revisited that thought. It has had a lasting influence on how I think about risk — because to me it’s worth an occasional optimism tax to live in a world where I can treat people like they’re trustworthy and where I can expect good things to happen.
Really, this is about reframing the loss. Human beings are subject to the cognitive bias of loss aversion, that we would rather avoid a potential loss than secure an equivalent gain. It’s one of the ways we’re innately a little irrational. And you might think, “Ah, so this optimism thing is reframing the situation so that it doesn’t feel so much like a loss” — but I don’t think that’s it. Because calling something a tax or cost still evokes a sense of loss, which is why people get so hung up on taxes and bills.
Rather, saying that the occasional expense “is a small price to pay to be able to continue trusting people” reframes the situation in terms of what’s the greater loss. It would be a greater loss to me to live in a world where I have to be constantly on guard because no one can be trusted.
I know that sometimes people are untrustworthy, but I also know that sometimes people are very trustworthy. And the reason I know that? Well, because I’m trustworthy — because I put intention and effort into being a person who follows through on commitments, who treats other people with care and respect. I can demonstrate the proof that trustworthy people exist by being one of those people. And having that proof, it would be pretty vain to think that I’m the only trustworthy person left in the world, wouldn’t it?
To me, this is a big part of what it means to be the change you wish to see in the world (a quote often misattributed to Gandhi). Except maybe it doesn’t even have to be a change. Maybe you could simply say be what you wish to see in the world.
But also it’s true that I don’t typically go around risking more than what I can bear to lose. If you approach things in life with an acknowledgment that experiences come with costs, then it’s worth being mindful about what costs you an afford to incur. And not everyone is going to measure that on the same scale.
I’d just suggest that it’s worth including “what kind of world do I want to live in?” as part of the scale.
And if you likewise have been feeling busy lately and are looking for a little refueling for your optimism and / or imagination, permit me to suggest some quick reads from Megan Derr. I recently read her short stories Runescribe and Talismaker, both set in the same magical world with the reappearance of some characters from the first story in the second. These are both stories of chance encounters, in different ways, and give a very brief peek into a really intriguing fantasy world. Just a fun quick fix. Sometimes it’s good to read a story that leaves you wanting more.
On which note, I’m keeping today’s letter short and sweet. Hope you’re well. Here it’s cold, but the sun is shining. Just had a piece of toast with butter and raspberry jam. Sunshine and jam are here to remind us just how lovely it is to be alive.
Love,
Beas
Beautiful!