throwing parties to microdose hope
courting positive uncertainty
The vibes this week have been putrid.
I told a few friends that 2024 was the year I gave up. Feeling deeply troubled by the present moment is nothing new, but it’s getting easier to assume the future will be more of the same, if not worse.
Hope is a projection into the future that’s becoming harder to maintain without feeling foolishly naive. This was my mindset when I came across this letter to the New York Times Ethicist column: The World is Falling Apart. Should I Scrap My Plans to Have Kids?”
The Ethicist’s Answer?
“If having a child is always a form of hope, not having one because you’re sure what lies ahead can, I fear, be a form of hubris.”
Color me humbled!
While I am not interested in having a child at this time, I am invested in (and worried about) what lies ahead. Personally, I find a lot of existential comfort in realizing that whether the future seems bleak or hopeful, likely or unlikely, it’s a fool’s errand to proclaim it with certainty. The only certainty we have is uncertainty.
Well… If our current conditions set us up for fearful, negative uncertainty, what conditions might create positive uncertainty?
What is positive uncertainty? I’d call it that playful, mysterious air of anything could happen! Think summer evening stroll where you happen upon a concert in the park… A serendipitous find at the library… A chance encounter…
What do these things have in common? Being out and about in the physical world! Encountering other people, whether corporeally or in the realm of art and ideas!
My favorite way to curate these conditions?
Throwing parties.
The kind I like to throw has a heavy dose of serendipity. When I have a party coming up, I compulsively invite anyone I interact with in the weeks leading up to it: the grocer I chat up about tomato paste, the ladies at the bakery, the friend from three hours away who happens to send me a text. I operate on an everyone-is-welcome basis. This behavior has stressed out more than a few friends (the capacity of my third-story apartment worries some more than others), but it’s also led to undeniable serendipity, like the reunion of adults who grew up as neighbors or fans getting to meet their favorite indie rock star.
Indulge in a few moments from parties past:
At a superficial level, it’s clear that having parties = fun, but in the last year and a half, I’ve been gripped by the deeper conviction that throwing parties really matters. The ethos behind that urge is perfectly articulated in The Atlantic’s recent article on Why Americans Need to Party More, where Ellen Cushing writes:
My point is that we are obligated to create the social world we want. Intimacy, togetherness—the opposite of the crushing loneliness so many people seem to feel—are what parties alchemize. Warm rooms on cold nights, so many people you love thumbtacked down in the same place, the musical clank of bottles in the recycling, someone staying late to help with the dishes—these are things anyone can have, but like everything worth having, they require effort.
While parties require the effort of the host(s), one of the real gifts is how little they require from the guests. These days, it can feel like so many of our opportunities for community are built around hobbies that you have to buy into either literally (capitalism churns on) or through long-term commitment. Hobbies are wonderful gifts of their own, but there’s an ease and sense of possibility in having no responsibility other than showing up as you are.
You might meet a friend or a lover, taste a new flavor, or be influenced by someone rocking a fit in a way that changes your life forever! Anything could happen. That’s the intrinsic value of parties. They will not save the world, but they are a small and beautiful reminder that the future is not known and the unknown just might be good.
If you’re local (Raleigh/the Triangle), my friend Marty & I are hosting an Imbolc-themed poetry reading (one of my favorite kinds of parties) next Saturday! Consider coming out! Anything could happen…
Note: I wrote this post under the influence of Party Girl (1995). Our heroine may be problematic, but the outfits, the obsession with the Dewey Decimal system, the unpredictable nature of Parker Posey’s dancing… My god.
I loved this! And I loved the concept of microdosing hope. It is so tempting to try get in front of misfortunes before they find us, and the main work of my recent years has been to fight back against that impulse. I think you have inspired my next essay. Party on!