The first time it happened was slightly unnerving.
Vlad and I weren’t expecting anyone when we heard something that wasn’t even really a knock at the door.
More like a subtle, almost eerie tap.
The peephole revealed very little until I noticed some tan fur at the bottom.
Vlad’s best friend Malibu had slipped past his parents and made a break for our apartment.
As we opened the door, Malibu’s dad Bobby appeared, racing down the hall to recover him, although of course he and I gave in to their demand for an impromptu playdate.
Since then, this has happened three or four times in both directions.
Whenever either apartment door is accidentally ajar or someone’s distracted with a delivery, Vlad or Malibu will run down the long hallway, round the corner past the elevator, to their best friend’s apartment.
For them, it’s always a joyous reunion, a perfect homecoming.
And on that topic…
This Thanksgiving, when I returned to my mother’s house, the one where I grew up, there was an uncanny moment.
As I got behind the wheel of her car to drive us to our first gathering, I was struck by the very specific late Beethoven piece that began playing, a favorite of Vlad and mine.
What an odd coincidence, I thought.
And then I quickly realized that her car sound system had immediately recognized and reconnected with my iPhone from last year.
It picked up on the exact spot on the same playlist I was listening to in 2021.
I didn’t even need to hit Play.
Simply by showing up, via cyber-mechanics, the same music began again.
That’s true certain people in our lives as well.
You arrive and instantly they’re humming the same old tune.
Sometimes that’s as beautiful and comforting as late Beethoven.
Other times, much less so…
Usually I only write about books that I’ve fully digested.
I’m making an exception for a new one, however, because it was enthusiastically recommended by a marketing mentor of mine.
I’ve only just begun The Gap & The Gainby Benjamin Hardy and Dan Sullivan, but there’s a lot of juice in its key point (and title).
And I found the framing it suggests particularly helpful during this Thanksgiving trip.
Essentially:
“You’re in the GAP
every time you measure yourself
or your situation against an ideal.”
And
“Being in the GAIN
means you measure yourself backward,
against where you were before.”
Particularly when you’re returning to a past location, it’s tempting––particularly for high achievers––to slip deep into the Gap, tracking only how far things are from our ideal.
Instead, the book argues, it’s vastly wiser to measure how far you’ve come, to stop looking at the Gap, and instead treasure and marvel at the Gains.
You want to be focused on how far you’ve come, not how far away you are from your goal.
And, even though it may seem counterintuitive, there’s data that proves that positive recognition of past milestones is also the best way to get to where you really want to be.
I realized I was applying this perspective earlier in the week while figuring out Vlad and my transportation back to Connecticut.
It’s not as simple as you might think since the only direct path would be an astronomically expensive 3-hour Uber ride.
Otherwise, it’s some combination of trains, subways, and/or rental cars.
At one point, demonstrating my new MBA’s utility, I even decided to graph the expense vs. efficiency of all possible combinations.
What was most significant, though, was that I couldn’t help but recall one Thanksgiving trip many, many years ago where I was at such a financial low point that any combination was challenging.
It was fascinating to take a deep dive into the contrast between these roadtrips that were two decades apart.
In every category, when measured backwards against my own past, things are so much better now.
I suggest you try it for yourself.
Reconnect with your own Ghost of Thanksgivings Past.
I’m reasonably confident you’ll marvel at how far you’ve come and how much you’ve grown.
And that’s definitely something to be thankful for…
A Sidebar Moment:
I fondly recall the concept of Bistromathics from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
Harkening back to Einstein’s observation that time is not absolute but dependent on the observer and space, Bistromathics applies to restaurant math when the check gets delivered.
Namely, according to the fandom, “Numbers written on restaurant checks within the confines of restaurants do not follow the same mathematical laws as numbers written on any other pieces of paper in any other parts of the universe.”
(If you’ve ever tried to divide the bill for your BFF’s large birthday party, you know this to be true.)
Anyway, I feel I should invent my own term for the curious internal logic of TV shows, specifically how Carrie Bradshaw always shared the most intimate details of her friend’s lives in her column without asking permission or frankly anyone seeming to notice.
I, however, feel drastically more inhibited.
And yet I will say this….
Years, even decades, can pass and yet some people are still stuck on the same playlist, still singing the same old tune.
(Sometimes you only see those people at holiday gatherings.)
Others though, often seated at the same table are, in fact, growing and evolving in wonderful, often remarkable ways.
And that’s something else that’s also truly worthy of sincere thanks.
I really like the poem Spring Reign by Dean Young.
Here’s how it begins:
Thank you whoever tuned the radio
to rain, thank you who spilled
the strong-willed wine for not
being me so I’m not to blame.
I’m glad
I’m not that broken tree although
it looks sublime. And glad I’m not
taking a test and running out of time.
And here’s how it ends:
Maybe an angel’s long overdue and we’re
all in trouble. Meanwhile thanks whoever
for the dial turned to green downpour, thanks
for feathery conniptions at the seashore
and moth-minded, match-flash breath.
Thank you for whatever’s left.
Finally, in case you were wondering, Vlad had an excellent holiday.
While he was elated by the travel adventure and on some level exhausted, he didn’t get nearly as much exercise as he usually does.
(Away from home, it’s completely impossible to replicate his mornings frolicking with Miku the Weimaraner, and mutts Moon and Chase, the other most ball-obsessed dog athletes in the baseball field).
Thus, as I finish this, rather than hoping for a “jailbreak” moment, I scheduled a playdate with Malibu so they can wrestle and gnaw each other’s faces for an hour or so.
Running back and forth between the living room and my office, they are doing exactly that right now.
Their homecoming reunion was easy and effortless.
Not always, but sometimes returning to our childhood homes and families can be that easy.
And when it’s not, as the poet reminds us, it’s important to remember we’re NOT taking a test and running out of time.
Instead, we need to realize who’s stuck on the same out-of-tune playlist and who’s evolving––and make our decisions accordingly.
Most importantly, we need to live more and more in the Gain and NOT the Gap.
It’s only that way––looking forward but measuring backward––that we can truly give thanks and fully embrace the mystery and magic of “whatever’s left.”
Namaste for Now,
