This morning, I had breakfast with a few of my co-workers and the minds and voices behind Radio Lab.
I ate a plate of eggs. They’d just won a Peabody award. It turned out to be quite a productive morning.
“We’re adults now,” they joked, as we congratulated them on their win.
And we laughed, partly because it felt true.
Maybe they’re right, maybe the only adults in this world are actually Peabody winners. Or at least people who’ve achieved something big.
And the rest of us are just in-between. Wandering around, hoping that we’ll find someway to achieve all the things we believe we can. Desperately trying to figure it out. Or, maybe it was only a joke and I should learn to think less when eating eggs for breakfast.
Regardless, this isn’t about a fancy award or what I ate for breakfast. This is about creating something meaningful. Something made not because it’s necessarily profitable, but because it’s believed in. Something that reminds people it’s okay to be human.
Last night we were lucky enough to see Radio Lab live. They talked about the relationship between people and symmetry—the desire to connect, our sympathy toward stories, the difference between a mirror-life and an actual one. They examined all of this in front of a sold-out audience. An audience mesmerized by what was going on in front of them.
It was incredible, although incredible doesn’t fully do it justice. Because, really, it’s impossible to fully articulate what it feels like to be moved by something, like really, insanely moved. It’s as if everything inside you— your mind, your body, your fingers are just consumed by this crazed wonderment—this insanely creative, inquisitive energy. Like you’ve just had 1,000 cups of coffee without feeling like you’ll die.
You’re just straight up giddy.
So maybe they’re right. Maybe winning a Peabody award does mean you’re finally an adult. An adult who sits you down, pats you on the head and reminds you that it’s okay to be human. Actually, it’s pretty fucking great.