Hello, Adversity Weekly Roundup #25 - July 22, 2023
Hello, Adversity Weekly Roundup #25 - July 22, 2023
Demystifying self-doubt, a memorable weekend at Wimbledon, what getting older feels like, and revisiting an important book in my life
Happy Saturday everyone!
Welcome to the 25th edition of the Hello, Adversity Weekly Roundup. I hope you had a great week. (If anyone has seen “Barbenheimer”, please let me know how it went.)
A couple scheduling notes:
For next Wednesday’s newsletter, I am going to share one of my favorite posts from the early days of Hello, Adversity. The majority of my subscribers have signed up since it was published in February and I thought it would be a great way for new readers to learn more about my journey.
The following Wednesday will be my latest “Resilience in Action” post. I will share a few life updates and will also be making an important announcement. (It’s good news!)
Without further ado, here are this week’s links:
A few days ago, I discovered Lawrence Yeo’s thought-provoking site, More to That. Yeo writes about the human condition, psychology, and other topics that interest him. More to That reminds me a lot of Tim Urban’s site, Wait But Why, in the way he goes down rabbit holes to explain complex topics with the aid of entertaining illustrations.
Yeo’s article on self-doubt sheds light on the underlying assumptions and emotions that cause us to feel inadequate when we compare ourselves to others. (This ties in nicely with my article on comparison from two weeks ago.) Yeo then explores why, when we encounter self-doubt, we find it so tempting to give up.
Since I also like to go down rabbit holes, I saved all of Yeo’s articles to the Pocket app to read at a later date. I’ve only read a few articles so far but have enjoyed his original takes on topics I thought I knew a lot about already.
For example, I never considered that self-doubt could be instructive:
Self-Doubt is useful because it indicates how important something is in our lives, and whether or not that endeavor is worth pursuing deeply. If you had no doubts whatsoever about the work you’re doing, it likely means that you don’t care enough about it, as brash certainty and carelessness tend to be close cousins.
Last weekend’s Wimbledon finals were extraordinary.
The men’s final was one of the best championship matches of all time, with 20-year-old Carlos Alcaraz defeating legend Nikola Djokovic in five grueling sets. And on the women’s side, unseeded Marketa Vondrousova knocked off 6-seed Ons Jabeur in dramatic fashion.
Two adversity storylines in the women’s final caught my eye.
First, Vondrousova became the first unseeded woman to win Wimbledon. Very rarely do low seeds win major tennis tournaments, let alone someone who is unseeded. Vondrousova, however, was once a top-15 player, making the finals of the 2019 French Open before injuries derailed her career. This Wimbledon victory was the capstone on an amazing comeback.
The second storyline involves Ons Jabeur, who lost her third major tournament final in twelve months, including last year’s Wimbledon final. Known as the “Minister of Happiness” in Tunisia for her upbeat personality, Jabeur was understandably devastated at her latest loss.
To get so close three times in a row, only to lose, is hard enough; to fail publicly in an event watched by millions of people around the world is even tougher.
Jabeur is probably wondering if her day will ever come. (Speaking of self-doubt.) However, I am confident that she will triumph at a major event sooner rather than later. Many sports teams have come up short repeatedly before ultimately breaking through. If you knock on the door enough times, eventually it will open.
I know this all too well. I’m a Red Sox fan.
In this essay, Jeff Goins reflects on turning 40, an age that is neither old nor young. As he’s gotten older, Goins has found that his tastes have changed along with his perspective on life. Everyday moments have taken on a new resonance:
Now, all there is is time, even as it contracts before me. I see the value of each moment and attempt to seize it before it fades away forever, replaced by another. More is no longer interesting. I don’t need to get lost in any new points of interest or be introduced to another technological breakthrough. Here is just fine. Now is all I need.
Goins’s essay touches on several different themes, from mindfulness of the present moment to an appreciation of how certain things no longer matter.
As I read this, I couldn’t help but see parallels in my own life as I enter my late-30s mid-30s. I too have found a new appreciation for the little things. The process of slowing down, although forced upon me by my disease, has enabled me to enjoy all that life has to offer. I also can see how some of the things I used to worry about really weren’t all that important at the end of the day. Experience begets wisdom, and wisdom is clarifying.
There is nothing to fear in getting older, but the process can still be unsettling from time to time. Although our bodies might reflect our age, our minds can transport us to any age we want to be.
I liked how Goins put it:
I don’t know how old I am, anymore. I am both alive and dying at the same time, keenly aware of the end and lucid about what has been. Anne Lamott once wrote, “I am all the ages I’ve ever been.” And that seems true to me.
Goins illustrates this point by recalling his thirteenth birthday party in vivid detail. All the memories from that day are still just as meaningful as they were when he first experienced them.
We all have moments in our past that bring a smile to our face. When we think back to happier times, recalling all the sights and sounds and smells, we can relive them once again. It is this process that keeps us young.
Re-read: Man’s Search for Meaning, by Viktor Frankl
It has been a grind these last few months. Between various health issues and a few other life changes, I’ve found myself pondering the big questions of life during some of my lower moments, wondering if I am up for the challenges to come. The struggles I am facing are not new—they are just the latest iteration of my disability.
Man’s Search for Meaning is a book that has helped me in the past during pivotal moments in my life. It has enabled me to see my challenges in a new light and find meaning in hardship. Reading it again was a much-needed confidence boost.
Given the graphic subject matter, it is neither a breezy read nor a pleasant one. For those unfamiliar, Frankl was in a concentration camp for three years and lost his entire family while imprisoned. A trained psychiatrist, Frankl observed that those who had a purpose for living, who had something to look forward to, were more likely to survive. (All things being equal, considering the arbitrary nature of life and death in the camps.)
After his camp was liberated towards the end of World War II, Frankl returned to his native Vienna and wrote Man’s Search for Meaning. Part One of the book recounts his experiences in the camp; Part Two gives an overview of logotherapy, a branch of psychotherapy that deals with human purpose and meaning.
One of the primary takeaways of the book—if not the primary takeaway—is that we have the power to choose how we respond to life events, especially when it comes to suffering.
No matter our struggle, purpose can be found in suffering. Frankl reminds us that, even in dire circumstances, we can find a way to endure. Even if our suffering is not meant to be relieved, we can still face it with honor and dignity.
Man’s Search for Meaning is one of the most powerful books I have ever read. I am certain I will read it again in the future.
If you have a story you’d like me to include in a future newsletter, please email me at HelloAdversity@substack.com or leave a comment below.
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How are you able to stay on top of so many things, Chris? Thanks for all the great leads. xo
Love Man’s Search for Meaning. I don’t often keep or reread many books but that one has stayed on my shelf for years after it was gifted to me. It’s such a good one to go back to when I start to feel overwhelmed or hopeless.