Life in the Margins
If the margins are where most of life happens, then paying attention to them is the closest thing to truly living.
My favourite part of every morning is staring out the subway window as it crosses the Manhattan Bridge. I always put down my phone and watch as if I’m tuned into a show, not wanting to miss the best parts — especially the moment when the Statue of Liberty appears in the distance. Some mornings, I’m busy replying to Slack or scrolling Instagram, and when I realize I’ve missed that moment, I feel an immediate sense of loss.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about life in the margins—the moments that exist between calendar events, planned trips, and birthday parties. The normal part of life.
A few weeks ago, I had a conversation with a friend that made me realize how differently we see this margin time. We were bickering about how, the previous night, he had been on his phone while we were in line with some friends, waiting to get into one of my favourite bars in the city, a show tunes piano bar. It was a drizzly and wet Saturday night and our friends were visiting from out of town. One of us started beatboxing in line, and soon after, three of us were full-on re-enacting a show tune banger from Hairspray. Eventually, he started humming along —only after I nudged him to pay attention.
Friends who are willing to make a fool of themselves with you in public—or, better yet, who don’t even consider your antics foolish—are ones worth keeping. The best part of the night happened before we even entered the bar, in that impromptu jam session in the drizzle. But in his mind, the time spent in line was just life held in purgatory before the main event of the night.
I brought this up over lunch with some coworkers—the way the moments we’ll remember most about working at a startup aren’t the big milestones, but the days we laughed until we could hardly breathe while assembling and rearranging office furniture. Or the absurdity of the day we turned the office upside down for a beaver moon party. In ten years, whether this company has IPOed, gone under, or landed somewhere in between, what we’ll remember is the challenge we went through together and the unexpected moments that made the journey worthwhile. Those unplanned moments aren’t just filler; they shape how we collaborate, spark new ideas, and make work feel meaningful.
This reminded me of something I read a while back about the ultimate test of friendship: the traffic test. I think the NYC equivalent is the Uber test. With my favourite people, when the Uber driver cancels or is delayed, I don’t feel annoyed—I feel excited that I get more time with them. It makes me wonder if the main events in life are just the scaffolding for the serendipitous moments that actually shape a life. Modern life and productivity1 culture often rob us of seeing the beauty in the margins.
The best moments in friendship often happen when we least expect them. That’s why close friendships take time. I’ve gone through the entire midwit meme progression—from believing relationships take years to build, to thinking I could hack my way to deep connection, and back to realizing that meaningful closeness takes time.
Joss once wrote about reminding friends to stop making the pie — to just show up, rather than spending all day orchestrating an extravagant surprise for a birthday. People get so caught up in making the “big moments” special—birthday parties, holidays, trips—that they forget the real magic is in the unscripted moments.
The most important things in life are who we spend it with and what we do day to day. That’s what shapes a person. That’s what shapes a life.
I think about the quote by Anne Dilliard often "How we spend our days is of course how we spend our lives.” I’ve admittedly used this as a coping mechanism to justify my constant overthinking—about my career, and my personal choices and to figure out how everything I do aligns with my purpose.
But I don’t want to just analyze how I spend my time; I want to change how I experience it. I’m writing this as a reminder to myself — an optimistic vision of how I want to live and spend my time. Because if the margins are where most of life happens, then paying attention to them is the closest thing to truly living.
rabbitholes
A snapshot of some things I’ve liked in the last couple of weeks.
how to de-bog yourself by Experimental History
Andytown Coffee Roasters Matcha Plover. I was in SF last weekend and went to Andytown by Ocean Beach. It’s not often that I have a drink and am in absolute awe. I can’t tell if it was the sunny day in San Francisco effect or if the fizzy matcha drink was really that good but I am still thinking about this drink a week later.
How I Became a Wife — made me ponder what marriage and being a wife means in a feminist world.
Dear Dad by Shani — “You gave me native fluency in a language you'll never have dreams in.” The watercolour illustrations. I relate deeply, even though our exact circumstances are different."
Running. Like uh what? A few years ago, I hated running. Last Friday after seeing some coworkers run a half marathon at 5 am to the beach to catch sunrise, just for fun. I simply had to know if I could do it too. So on Sunday, I ran the furthest I’ve ever run (10 miles!!) Jaclyn from 2 years ago would be horrified
I say this as someone who frequently Instacarts and online shops in the name of efficiency. Because obviously, streamlining grocery shopping frees up my time for deep, contemplative strolls and spontaneous artistic musings… that I will promptly fill with more work instead.
Idk how I only just discovered your substack but I love this piece!!!