Countdown to 50
I’m a Goddamn Cheetah
I wasn’t in crisis. Nothing was wrong, exactly. But underneath the routines and responsibilities, I felt disconnected from myself. I was tired, uninspired, and unsure what came next.
Even the question “If I could do anything, what would it be?” felt too big. I tried, over and over, to answer it, but I kept coming up empty. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, or what I even liked, anymore.
I’d achieved success by external measures and told myself I should be grateful for everything I had. And, I was. But, in the stillness of my mind, something tugged at me. I couldn’t help wondering, “Is this it?”.
Then I read something that stopped me in my tracks. It shined a light on what was quietly gnawing at me. As art often does, what I read helped provide an explanation for the unnamed and unsettled feeling in my gut.
In the prologue of her book, Untamed, Glennon Doyle describes how she and her family watched a spectacle at the zoo featuring a yellow lab and a cheetah. The cheetah had been raised in captivity alongside this lab, and as you can imagine, picked up lots of canine behaviors along the way, including running after a stuffed bunny tied to a jeep’s trailer hitch. After both dog and cheetah demonstrated their superb chasing skills, the cheetah devoured her steak reward and ambled out into a small, fenced field.
As the zookeeper regaled the crowd with big cat facts, Glennon, watching the cheetah’s posture change, looking majestic with her head held high, imagined it thinking:
Something’s off about my life. I feel restless and frustrated. I have this hunch that everything was supposed to be more beautiful than this. I imagine wide-open savannas. I want to run and hunt and kill. I want to sleep under an ink-black, silent sky filled with stars. It’s all so real I can taste it…I should be grateful. I have a good enough life here. It’s crazy to long for what doesn’t even exist.
Glennon responded to the cheetah, “You’re not crazy. You are a goddamn cheetah.”
That was exactly it for me. Instead of trusting and listening to the deep knowing and longing in me, I unwittingly responded to my unease with admonitions like:
“You should be grateful for all you have.”
“You have a great life. What else do you need?”
“Who are you to want more than this?”
In that moment, I knew the solution for my discomfort and dissatisfaction wouldn’t be found by hustling harder and achieving more. I would never find my next level of happiness and fulfillment in external measures of success, like titles or accolades. I don’t have all the answers, but I’m starting to look for them in new places and creating new measures of success, like Wholeness. Peace. Energy. Integrity. Joy.
Over the past year, I’ve been working on turning this realization into practice. Trying to transform back into a cheetah from the yellow lab I thought I was. Which is hard, because after all, what’s not to like about a yellow lab?!!
But in the interest of halting further soul-atrophy, I’ve begun to shed some of what has conditioned and tamed me: saying yes when I mean no, staying in my lane, meeting societal expectations, prioritizing productivity over fun and rest, and trying to optimize everything.
I’ve learned that to re-wild myself, I need to find more ways to feel alive. For me, this means accepting that beauty, wonder, adventure, and delight are not frivolous. They are needs. As necessary for me as air and water. I need to laugh. I need to run. I need to daydream. I need to animate and energize the mundane. I need to travel. And I need music.
The more I direct my energy toward what lights me up, the better life gets. Every choice that feels right, gives me more vitality and momentum. I’m starting to swim with the current, instead of against it.
Next April 24th, I turn 50.
I am convinced it can be my best year yet. Each Friday, for the next 52 weeks, I’ll post about another step in my journey toward this milestone. I’ll reflect back on how I got here, chart where I want to go next, and all the while, you can help me stay accountable to choosing cheetah over lab.
Building a Community of People Who’ve Come Alive
Author, philosopher, and educator Howard Thurman said, “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
Now, perhaps more than ever, the world needs people who have come alive. Through my writing, I hope to inspire others to live richer, fuller lives by fearlessly fighting for what feels vital for them. I’ll offer authenticity and vulnerability, to help encourage you to look at yourself, honestly connect with your deepest joy, and do what it takes to come alive.
