Kick cynic the snake in you to the curb

November 8, 2022

In the past months, I’ve had this feeling that claustrophobia is slowly creeping up on me.

The walls around me seem a bit closer. The weight on my chest feels a bit heavier and looking through these round balls we call eyes, it seems as if there’s a shade of dirt caked over the lenses crapping up my clarity like swamp water filled with silt.

Maybe turning forty and having traveled around the sun for one time too many things have started to look a bit too familiar. Even stale.

My brain juices are not filled with the naive hope of riches and success of the youth but instead, reality and cynicism have started weighing my every step like cinder block shoes.

Too many painful falls can do that. The bubble of possibilities around you starts to shrink and soon it feels like a snake ready to change its skin.

To combat this anxiety I’ve started to talk. And it’s a good thing I have because I’ve discovered that I’m not the only one feeling this way.

A colleague at work told me she tries a new sport every year. She explained to me that she had started to feel a bit like a monkey in a box and needed to shake herself out of that jail block to stay sane.

I picked up my phone, called up a friend and said we were going to play pool stat. The adult in you is way too stiff and responsible. Go have some fun.

After a fun night playing eight ball (and absolutely sucking at it) I invited our family friends to come over for dinner and board games. Something we haven’t done in years.

The same weekend My spouse’s birthday was coming up so we tried a new coffee shop and got two pieces of cake. The brownie one topped with marshmallows exploded in my mouth like a firecracker in the sky on New Year’s Eve. The other slice, according to the waitress, tasted like toothpaste. I unwilfully agree.

I haven’t been as brave as my colleague yet but I’m working my way out of the cement coffin I’ve found myself in.

As I get older I feel like I have to wrestle with the cynicism in me gripping my jugular like a boa slowly squeezing the air out of its prey.

The only way you escape this death squeeze is to first open your eyes. 

That’s what this post is all about. 

The second is to do your crazy dance and shake yourself loose. 

That task has your name written all over it.

Go get jiggy with it.

A black and white photo of the author Jussi's smiling face with shortcut hair and a short beardJussi Tarvainen

Former pro snowboarder. Author at night. Multi(failed)-entrepreneur. And mostly an awesome designer (said, my five-year-old son).

plenty more loot in the vault

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