43

On showing up, letting go, and the arrival fallacy

This morning, on my 43rd birthday, I woke up watching the sunrise over the mountains here in the French Pyrenees.

Our kids decided to be up from 4 am onwards. When I say up, I mean play time, wanting to eat sometime, the works 🫠

Mako’s been needing to be breastfed almost every 2 hours, so it’s been rough on Mahsa, not only last night but these past 15 months, so she rested a little more as these kids were pushing for the after party.

As the skies changed colour, from the first light to the reddish glow that covered them, I rubbed my eyes, marvelled at what I saw, slightly tired yet fulfilled. My heart is full.

I know I often write about my struggles, inner dialogues, and the challenges I face, yet through it all, I can confidently acknowledge how much I’ve learned over the years.

I can get stuck comparing what the perfect father or partner should and could be. I see those around me doing things better, either by spending more time with their families, providing better, being more handy around the house, and keeping their affairs in better order. And instead of this intimidating me, I’ve grown to see many of those around me as an inspiration, to see how I can learn from them too.

Because the one thing I do consistently is show up. Every day, every morning, every evening, sometimes broken and often stretched to my limits, yet I put all my efforts into being there. Maybe I am not 100% mindfully present, but showing up when it matters is what counts.

In the midst of this chaos, I am living a life I couldn’t have even dreamt of. Two beautiful children, the most incredible partner, work that I love and fires me up, and constant adventures I am a part of.

Is everything perfect? Far from it, but what is perfect anyway? Some illusion that a destination is more important than the journey, or as they call it, the arrival fallacy. The idea that life becomes better once we arrive somewhere.

Life is short, and the older we get, the shorter it gets: a morbid thought perhaps, but a humbling one.

While driving back from a trip out, while the kids slept, Mahsa & I were ik conversation, and I realised how much less I care about what others say or think about me. I still have trouble hearing it and need not take it personally, yet it doesn’t have the same effect it once did.

I know myself to be someone who wants to please others, a complier, someone who wants to make others happy. It’s shown up in many of the personality tests I’ve taken, and just life in general. And it’s something I want to keep unlearning, even if I rationally know it’s not what I want to continue doing.

Maybe that’s what 43 is teaching me. The arrival fallacy is just that, a fallacy, a myth, a romanticised, unrealistic and very disappointing expectation. There is no somewhere else I’m trying to get to; this is it, right here, sunrise and mischievous kids and all. And slowly, I’m learning I don’t need everyone else’s approval to know that. I need to keep showing up, for them and for myself.