The Wave You Ride

We can't predict the future. Chaos always reigns. The unpredictable compounding of events is inevitable, and we can always count on surprises occurring, which is why it pays to build our lives (and invest) with the certainty that something will inevitably go wrong. Accounting for the certitude that something you planned for will not go as planned should prod you to hedge yourself via diversification --or even better, redundancies. Of course, building redundancies takes resources. That insurance policy doesn't pay for itself. You sacrifice current income (and/or effort) to build that safety net in case SHTF.  And although it could very well be that you'll never use it, it's not stupid to build it. An example: Nature, in its infinite iteration game called evolution, gave us two kidneys. I am pretty sure it's not free (evolutionarily speaking) to carry an extra filter behind your belly just in case one clogs with crap you throw at your body. If evolution settles on an outcome like this, it can't be a bad idea to have a "rainy day fund", or to buy a secondary generator in case a freak storm knocks out power of your entire state.

We're always fighting disorder, while at the same time trying to build structure in our lives: order that allows you to take the next step forward. There's value in scouting for negative surprises, simply because they can more easily destroy your progress than your efforts can build it up. It's just nature. Leave it unattended, and chaos wins. And chaos is not necessarily your friend. At the evolutionary scale it can bequeath you two kidneys (yay), but at the lifespan scale it can choke you with a ham sandwich because you were refreshing your robinhood app and forgot to chew well (bummer), making you evolutionary fodder in the infinite process of species optimization. 

You might think you can thrive in chaos, and yes, you might even catch a good wave for a while, cut it short to catch a bigger one, and be better for it this time. But the problem with counting on always making the best out of life's curve balls (not committing to ride your wave 'til the end because you're always looking for the better one) is that it only takes one bad wave to drown you. And then it's game over. You won't be around to catch "the one". Holding onto a wave and ride it to its very end of course also implies forgoing potentially bigger ones, and constantly fighting the perennial "what if's" of your mind. Granted, regret is not a fun feeling, which is why we need to train our minds to be fine knowing that we will feel it, before deciding to lock onto a wave. Decisions have consequences, after all. And we must be at peace with the fact that you're making yours considering what's available at the moment. You don't know what you don't know. Surprises will come, conditions will change, and you must not kick yourself for deciding what you did, because you did the best with what you had to work with. 

Of course, I am not deluding myself in thinking that my perspective is not informed (tainted?) by my background. Everyone's got one, and there's only one life we get to experience: ours. No matter how many books you read, gurus/experts you follow, stories/anecdotes you hear, they will never be part of your lived experience. Exercise your empathy all you want, but at the most basic level, you will never experience other people's lives. Our backgrounds shape us irredeemably. The life you grew up with forms your own point of reference. That is by definition your base scenario. It marks your perspective in life. Which brings the following paradox: If my kids have a more bountiful childhood than what I had, then their chances of facing a future where their standard of living feels worse than their point of reference, is higher. And I, as their provider, will be the culprit of that. Does that mean I have to make them live an artificially ascetic life to lower their point of reference? I am not pretending to be discovering a "novel" dilemma. It's been going on for centuries. 

But, as I said, my life is the only one I get to experience. Shaking that little bias is a little hard to do. And this is the wave I've decided to ride.