how to accept you’re a clown

stability is an illusion

Sunday September 3^rd 2023

Providence, Rhode Island

Dear friends,

I hope this letter finds you well and wherever you are and however you may be feeling, you get to experience a little joy today. If last month’s letter did not reach you on a good day, I hope the day you get this is a good day. Once again, this letter is late – I’ve stopped coming up with reasonable excuses as to why it was late. One thing that I didn’t anticipate when I started this project was that sometimes ideas don’t necessarily stick to timelines – but truth be told, the dates sneak up on me and I begin thinking about writing the letter days after it was past due. But still, like last month, please forgive me for my tardiness.

Yesterday I got up early to take a bus to the south county beaches in Rhode Island (if you recall last year, I began this series with a letter about me going to the beach). The season is about to end, and I wanted to be near the sea one more time. Two hours and two buses later (there is usually an express bus that runs from Providence that takes only an hour but it ended its run for the summer), I had my feet in the Atlantic. The waves were rough but the water was clear.  

One benefit of learning to swim later in life is that you know your limits – I know I can swim but I’m not the strongest swimmer out there. Certainly not strong enough to take on some strong currents; so I merely waded in the water and let the waves hit me as they came ashore. Being near the ocean is healing, I love the salty air and my skin loves being in the salty water. I grew up swimming in lakes (which is another kind of special) but there is something magnificent about dipping your toes in the ocean. There seems to be a greater power to it and you’re in awe of being in its presence. I feel grateful to God for the power of the sea.

But beach season is over now, and the students are back in Providence, it’s September – the start of a new season. Coming back from the beach, I realized that September marks 4 months till the end of the year (sorry for this reminder!) and it’s a weird feeling for me, because I turned 30 in April. So even though I’ve just passed my 4^th month of my 30^th year, it feels like there are only 4 months left before I turned 31. Like so many things, the changing of a calendar year signals to us that time is passing more quickly than we would like. Our birthday may be in December, but in January, it seems imminent.

At this age, I simultaneously feel like I am a 22-year-old who can barely take care of himself (where’s my dad I’m all alone I’m too small to be here on my own) and also feel like I am ready to have a house with my wife, kids and two cats while becoming a bestselling author. One is my reality in the present and one is a reality I hope to occupy. It’s the gap between the two that makes you feel like you don’t really know what you’re doing. Sometimes I’ll watch these 90s sitcoms and think huh, they really built 30-year-olds in the 90s differently – am I to believe I am the same age as people in Friends and Seinfeld? Please. I’m a small baby. Where’s my dad, I’m all alone I’m too small to be here on my own.

And then there’s the fact that seemingly everyone (well not everyone) is either going to a wedding or getting married or having a child or moving or starting a new job or some other marker of ‘stability’ – basically making these boss moves in life – and you don’t feel jealous, you feel happy for your friends, but it does feel like you’re running out of time. You’re both too busy and not doing enough at the same time.

I don’t mourn the process of aging; aging is a gift. But I think it’s precisely because I know life is not guaranteed that I feel the need the get it all done quickly. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed - god forbid, I could go to sleep and not wake up. And I don’t just want to just check these boxes off – I want to cultivate relationships filled with love & care – relationships with people and creation that make me feel like I am near the ocean again, witnessing the beauty and power of what God can do. I want to be with someone who makes time slow down, I want to hold tiny little hands and explore new horizons together. I want to see things that excite me, spend my time writing and creating things that I am passionate about. I am blessed to have some of this already but you always long for more – for a sense of “stability”.  And I think it’s precisely because these things are more than a checkmark, because they give life its texture and color – that make waiting for them hard, because try as you may – it really isn’t completely in your control. You just gotta do your best and be ready to receive when it happens.

I am of course not naïve – I know that I am blessed in many respects – the fact that you are reading this piece is a testament to that. Part of my motivation in writing this is to let you know that I’ve figured out something. We’re all clowns – no matter how put together someone might seem. Your parents? Clowns. Your friends? Clowns. Your boss? A clown. Your senator? A huge clown. John Cena? A clown who can impressively speak Mandarin.

Looking back, I have accomplished a lot than my 23 year old self would find impressive, and yet, I still feel like 22 year old clown. But that’s just it – stability is an illusion; you will always feel this way to a degree. Some people may end up with more money and material stability, but the feeling of mental clarity – that’s not something anyone can achieve with finality. It takes an ongoing process of reflection to reach even a modicum of that. But how powerful that clarity can be, even in tiny amounts.

Despite writing this, despite knowing this – I will still feel like I am behind at times. I’m still expecting to feel like three toddlers in an oversized suit trying to get into a movie theater. Knowing that stability is an illusion doesn’t stop you from wanting it anyway. But that’s life – a beautiful, vibrant circus filled with clowns. The moment you stop feeling like a clown and start to feel like a spectator who has it all figured out, that’s when you should worry.

Thanks for reading! Can you believe have one more letter left (which I will attempt to write on time)! I’m trying to figure out what to do with this newsletter once this project ends. I may continue to write letters but at longer intervals. We’ll see. What do you think I should do?  

I have also renewed my PO Box for another six months (I owe some of you letters – I’m getting to it soon!) so feel free to write to me.

Abdullah Shihipar

PO Box 2457

Providence, Rhode Island

02906

PS: Only after writing this letter did I realize the first entry in this newsletter was called “putting on my clown shoes”. Look at how God works.