Celebrate What You Don’t Do
It is natural to be proud of achievements. Whether we hang our accolades on the wall or store them in the closet, we tend to receive diplomas, certificates, trophies, and mementos for our feats and triumphs. There’s great value to acknowledging and showing gratitude for what we’ve accomplished, to celebrating what we do.
But what about the things we don’t do? We tend not to celebrate what we don’t do or don’t achieve. Why would we celebrate those things? At first glance, the notion seems counterintuitive—even ridiculous. Why would anyone want to celebrate the extraordinary achievement of not earning a degree, or not learning how to play the violin, or not traveling on safari in Africa? The notion of selectively celebrating the positive actions and accomplishments in our lives is so ingrained and intuitive to us that contemplating celebrating the opposite approaches on the absurd.
But is it? We live in a world of infinite choices with finite resources. Whether it be capital, time, or energy, there is far more that we cannot do than we can. While we embrace one endeavor, we either implicitly or explicitly defer another. For many of us, we give little thought to what we don't do. I’m not a lawyer or journalist or painter. I don’t naturally feel inclined to celebrate the achievement of not having pursued or practiced any of these professions. Yet I think there’s a healthy form of gratitude, and even pride, that one should have for the deferrals in their lives.
We’ve all been in situations where we’re tempted to embrace more than we can handle. We rationalize that taking up photography or wine making or getting another degree on the side won't adversely impact our career, family, or relationships. But it invariably does. Personally, I’ve celebrated sitting in my study late at night trying to master a new opening in chess, only to realize that my wife and three kids are all at home, and after a full day of being apart, I remain in isolation in my own individual pursuits. I’m so intent on enhancing my chess game that I fail to adequately account for the greater value in what I could otherwise be doing.
At first, I begrudgingly embraced trade-offs in my life. I spent too many years getting up at 4:15am to dedicate undivided attention to my studies or career, at the expense of too many other things, including my relationships. I considered myself fortunate to have passions that exceeded what I could rationally accommodate in my schedule. As I continued to reflect and refine my thinking on the choices that I made, however, I developed a more positive approach to my deferrals—I started honoring them. I started celebrating the things I didn’t do.
Choosing not to learn to play the guitar while aimlessly scrolling through Instagram Reels may not seem like much to celebrate. No special certificates on the wall for that feat. Yet thoughtfully deferring a hobby as you refocus your energy on things that are more meaningful and impactful is a cause for self-acknowledgement, and even celebration. The more I didn’t do, the more I engaged with my family life. At first, honestly, it felt like a compromise. But ultimately, it took on another quality entirely. I actually took pride in my ability to show restraint and not do things.
When I say I don’t play the guitar. Or golf. Or pickleball. I don’t say it to be self-deprecating or as a slight to people who do. I do take pride in having chosen to thoughtfully spend my time in other ways that are more authentic to me. I do run. I do study physics. I do spend my weekends rooting for my kids. I could golf. Or garden. Or learn to make sushi. But I proactively choose not to do these things, which allows me to proactively choose to do other things.
In a world varnished by social media, where everyone seems to do everything, and do it well, we can instead choose to celebrate the power of discretion. Beyond giving you more agency over your own time, this provides you with the latitude to admire the achievements of others without feeling a sense of loss or inadequacy. One of the most wonderful aspects of humanity is that we are all unique. We should be making choices that honor this unique, authentic self.
Just as dark energy and dark matter makes up 95 percent of the matter in the universe, the negative spaces and choices we make in our lives are much greater in scale than what we can embrace. We can easily be overwhelmed with a sense of inadequacy for all the things that other people do and do well. I’m far from being a chef; my cooking skills are meager. Similarly, there are too many other things I don’t do, or do poorly, to list. And that’s okay. I’ve done some things well, and just like I can celebrate my proficiencies, I can also celebrate what I bypassed along the way. Bypassing them allowed me to pursue my passions and focus on my priorities.
Deferrals are not necessarily permanent denials. We all reserve the right to revisit our decisions and revise them in the future. Our tastes, dispositions, and priorities change. And we can decide at some future date that what was out of our scope in the past is within our scope in the future. Perhaps, one day, I'll pick up golf. Or learn to play the guitar. In the meantime, let’s choose to applaud both what we embrace and what we don’t.
Sometimes doing less is doing more. That’s something worth celebrating.