The summer of 2002, my mother invited me to vacation in Vietnam with her. Just the two of us. This was as rare an occasion as seeing a comet, a very big deal.
The four star hotel in Ho Chi Minh City where we stayed had an enormous, white tablecloth and tinkling classical music kind of breakfast buffet. I gleefully ate large piles of dragonfruit there every morning.
We ate casually the rest of the time, at places where we could mingle with as many locals as possible; serenaded by the endless stream of scooters driving by, gas fumes perfuming the tropical air.
Tourist guidebooks had warned us about getting sick. For four days, we shunned the advice to eat at “trusted” restaurants. But on our last night, I reserved a table at a restaurant on the approved list. Just to be safe.
You can probably guess what happened.
A few days later, I was in Tokyo, lying down on the tatami mat in what used to be my grandparents’ room, half-brained from an unasked for cleanse.
And thanks to Richard Gere, I had a revelation.
He was interviewing the Dalai Lama on NHK, the national TV network. Towards the end he asked, “Here’s a question I’m sure is on everyone’s mind. Dude, why are you so chill? What’s your secret?”
“Ahh,” His Holiness answered with a twinkle in his eye as he adjusted his robe. “My mother.” And he proceeded to tell a story about riding around on her shoulders as a very young boy, how he’d let him steer her with a tug on the ear. That just the best gift ever, he said.
Richard Gere sat there motionless in his low-key fancy gray suit, his frozen smile screaming “WTF?” From all appearances, the compassionate one was messing with the actor.
That’s when it dawned on me: Richard and I had both made the same mistake. We tried too hard to “nail it,” to tie up our high-stakes trips and interviews with a tidy bow—and it backfired.
Here’s what I took from that moment:
If chill is the goal, then be chill. Forcing the narrative to conform to your wishes is inherently un-chill.
The very thing you do “just to be safe” could be the most dangerous move you could make. So maybe don’t do that.
If Mom offers you an adventure, say thanks and enjoy the ride. And what is life but a ride?
