There was an author who I used to be quite fond of. As he transitioned from writing thoughtful memoirs to more self-help-style business books, my interest started to fade. Out of curiosity, I looked over some of his more recent stuff.
In both books and blogs, he seemed to frequently ask the question:
“Do you want a remarkable life?”
“You know you weren’t born just to be average… you’re here to do something remarkable.”
“You’ve got to leave your comfort zone, otherwise you won’t live that remarkable life you were meant for.”
It made me question… do I actually want my life to be remarkable?
Remarkable: well-above-average, outstanding, or impressive.
Do I want my life to be above average? I think it’s inevitable for some parts of my life to be above average, only to be balanced out by other parts being below average. I guess it’d be kind of boring to be perfectly average all across the board.
Do I want my life to be outstanding? Within reason, I suppose.
Do I want my life to be impressive? I’d be lying if I said no. But also, I’ve learned that living for the admiration of others is a futile endeavor.
Comedian Zoltan Kaszas has a great bit in his London Fog special, where he pokes fun at people who talk up their desire to “leave a legacy.”
“Or…” he suggests, “You could just die casually. People who want to leave a legacy are probably the same group of people who actually enjoy having Happy Birthday sung to them. The rest of us just smile and wait for it to be over.”
(Go check out that hour-long special, by the way. It’s one of the better ones I’ve seen in a while.)
But I guess my honest answer isn’t one that’ll ramp up excitement in that business/self-help aisle. Do I want a remarkable life? Sometimes yes, sometimes no.
First, let’s talk about the times where a remarkable life actually does carry some appeal.
I once saw this advertisement for a men’s magazine with the text Live The Interesting Life written over a scene of a funeral. Gathered around the casket were presumably the family of the deceased, a rugby team, some Buddhist monks, a mime, a few guys in kilts with bagpipes, a chef, a pair of geishas, and a bike gang. Whoever this guy was, he had a remarkable life. It seemed like he had a lot of fun.
Most people don’t realize it but life often throws us thousands of discreet invitations to go on quirky side quests that we often miss.
I have a tendency to embrace quirky adventures when I get the opportunity. A little while ago, I decided to run a marathon, and then decided that marathon should be in the epicenter of running: Kenya. The goal isn’t to impress others for the sake of vanity. My race splits were definitely not impressive. The goal is often to amuse myself, to see life differently by going way beyond the default, and to meet some interesting people along the way.
The reality is that each of us only gets to use one playable character in our lives: ourselves. Life itself is a pretty wild gift, and whenever you take the time to think of all the crazy and improbable things that needed to happen in order for there to be a universe that could host our planet… a planet that could sustain life long enough for the exact specific combination of your ancestors to meet in order to lead to you… its mindblowing. It never gets old. And it makes you not want to squander that gift.
A book or a movie doesn’t really go anywhere if its characters don’t have any sort of goal or objective.
And you know what? Life gets a lot more depth when you decide to live intentionally.
Whenever you pick a big dream, goal, or mission and pursue it wholeheartedly, so many pieces of life fall into place. It’s like we weren’t just put here to recycle calories and oxygen, but we have storylines and plots just waiting for us. And whether that takes the form of doing something good for the world, something really challenging that inspires others, or some combination, the result is an actually remarkable life.
Okay, but let’s talk about the flip side of that.
Calling some lives remarkable implies the existence of unremarkable lives… and that doesn’t sit well with me.
Once again, the crazy improbable odds of our universe, our planet, and our ancestors setting the stage for ourselves means that every life is pretty remarkable just by virtue of being here.
Let’s be real. So many of the things I’ve gotten to do that might seem “remarkable” were available to me because of a lot of privilege and the work of other people. My parents and grandparents didn’t quite have the same amount of opportunities but that doesn’t make their journey any less remarkable.
Working in rural and remote villages for a decade has helped me further appreciate the things we often look at as plain, simple, and ordinary. I know that some of the most beautiful lives have been lived in very ordinary settings. Those encounters have done the most to remind me of the good in the world. It feels wrong to talk disparagingly about “ordinary” when ordinary can be quite beautiful.
Finally, there have been a few experiences where I’ve seen my “normal” life being disrupted by some sort of crisis. In those moments, you really start to crave normal.
A lot of spiritual leaders have defined enlightenment as the realization that our separation is an illusion.
I think that applies to this illusion that some lives are remarkable and others aren’t. The fact is, it’s all fairly relative. I still often think about a 2019 interview where Conan O’Brien acknowledged: “At this point in my career, I could go out with a grand, 21-gun salute, and climb into a rocket and the entire Supreme Court walks out and they jointly press a button, I’m shot up into the air and there’s an explosion and it’s orange and it spells, ‘Good night and God love,’”
“In this culture? Two years later, it’s going to be, ‘Who’s Conan?’ This is going to sound grim, but eventually, all our graves go unattended.”
Living for the admiration of others is sort of pointless.
You’re probably best off simply living the best version of your life. Whatever that happens to mean. I’m sure it’ll be remarkable.