26 Candles

perfectionism, the future, and trusting absurdity

Painfully, I’m stuck in bed. The new Zeds Dead album provides a soundscape while I lie there, stoned to the bone. A couple of edibles will always be my preferred medication, but this evening, a little ibuprofen was well deserved. Earlier today, I took a tumble while backcountry skiing. In reality, I had fallen some 150 yards down the mountain—flipping three times, jostling my entire being, and breaking a rib in the process. The experience was hellish and absurd—one that I am incredibly grateful didn’t end up with me dead or more severely injured. It was a powerful reminder of the dangers of backcountry adventure, while also serving as a nice metaphor for this birthday edition of Kudos.

I made my 26th lap around the sun last week, and now I’m wondering—is this when the quarter-life crisis is supposed to hit? And, more importantly, is that dramatic or exciting? These days I feel ever-pressed by the world around me. I wonder why I hold myself to such a high standard. I wonder why I don’t know where I’m heading. I wonder why I can’t seem to find love. And I wonder what I am doing wrong, despite getting so many things right.

So, I guess the quarter life crisis is hitting. And yes, it’s a bit dramatic.

At the ripe age of 25, I wrote this Instagram caption along with the above photo:

Cheers to the fish, family and friends that made 24 one hell of a lap around the sun. As I look forward to 25, I see an incredibly bright future filled with more fish, new friends and a damn good family. Here are some words that stuck with me for most of this past year…

If I were to craft the person I want to become, I would not put them through a life of ease. In fact, I would make sure they encountered difficulty… to challenge them, to strengthen them, to empower them. All of the challenges we face in life have a purpose. It is purely up to us to determine how we react to those challenges. I recommend digging deep and embracing the hardship. You may learn something beautiful about yourself. Go forth with love my friends ❤️

It was a powerful caption with an even more powerful photo. My friend Flip snapped it after I had gone beast mode on a salmon—pure, raw, human, almost ape-like emotion. A hatchery silver, bred for the taking. Blood cascading out of its gills, just as I desired. I kissed it with love because, that evening, it was dinner.

For a social media post, it felt raw and full of emotion. Best of all, it was true. Now, I have this little Substack, in which 135 of you graciously read my writing. When my 26th birthday rolled around, I wondered what I would say. At 25 I had perfectly captured the past year and the year ahead. Now, at 26, I want to bring the same raw emotion to this post that existed within that photo. I want to kiss the bleeding salmon of life—smack on the lips. I want to gut it, flay it open, and cook it over an open fire.

Therefore, I am bringing vulnerability to the forefront. I am leaving it out there for the whole world to see—which is challenging. I’d rather post a selfie in my birthday suit than be vulnerable. However, despite the tempting idea of a career as an OnlyFans model, I won’t be doing that.

With vulnerability comes a sense of fear that what I write will be internalized and judged by the people who read it. I hope that when folks come across this vulnerability, they view it as a pure expression of the human experience and nothing more. Because I assure you—this is not a call for help or some exercise in pity farming. This is just me, Cliff Watson at the ripe age of 26.

---

before the fall

As I tumbled down the mountain this morning, I had an impressive amount of time to think. Initially, I thought, C’mon jackass, you’re a better skier than this.

When I completed the first midair rotation, my thinking changed to, Damn, I might be up Shit Creek.

After the third full rotation, I entered a never-ending death slide. I fought—and failed—to gain control. Only then did I realize that not only was I up Shit Creek, I also didn’t have a paddle. So, I made a conscious decision to give in, to let my body go limp and take the beating. I slid until my legs finally sank into some fresh snow and anchored me in a sitting position. Sweet relief.

That first thought after the initial fall is something I encounter on a daily basis: C’mon jackass, be better.

Every day, I wield the sharp sword of perfectionism. Too often, I swing it carelessly and cut myself. This is not a new realization—I’ve been learning this lesson over the years—but by no means have I mastered the wielding of this sword. I hope one day to engage with perfectionism in a way that leads to self-improvement, honesty, and happiness without the negative externalities of judgement, negative self-talk, and jealousy. But, it is a lifelong battle. Another one of those “life pursuits.” Similar to fly fishing, skiing, love, leadership—the list is endless. It is ignorant to think that these skills can or should be mastered overnight. At the same time, it is equally ignorant to think that they are not worth attempting to master.

Once the death slide of my fall ended, I was left on the side of the mountain, breathing heavily and utterly disoriented. The world stopped spinning, and I came back to reality. One thought remained: what next?

Increasingly, that thought is creeping into my day-to-day life. It makes me feel uncertain and deals out an impressive dose of imposter syndrome. The constant questions roll through my mind like a bad movie: What is next for Cliff? Should I move to a new town? When will I feel satisfied? When will I feel grounded?

And, of course, the big one—the question that lives painfully rent-free in my mind: Will I ever find someone to share this experience with? What do I need to be doing differently to find that person? Why haven’t I found them yet? Again, what am I doing wrong?

Dating in 2025 is a weird experience. Sadly, it seems people would rather spend time swiping on dating apps than going out into the real world to meet their partner. There’s no huge issue with internet dating—I’m sure countless life partners have met that way. But part of me still dreams of a love story—a story of two lives accidentally crossing paths and creating something beautiful.

All of it comes down to this nagging feeling inside me—this omnipresent desire to know what comes next, to have some plan ahead of me.

Part of this feeling is the convoluted joy of being in my mid-20s. I have few constraints on my life, and while that’s wonderful, it’s also a burden. I was chatting with friends the other day about the unique situation we find ourselves in. We live in a world with endless options, and to some extent, we wish someone would just tell us what to do. There’s a certain beauty in the simplicity of the past—growing up on a family farm, inheriting the local auto shop, following a path that was laid out for you. Certainly, I am romanticizing this world, and per usual, the grass is always greener. But today, the options are endless, and decision paralysis seems to take over my thinking all too frequently. Where to move? Who to date? What to do?

Anyone want to decide for me?

an awe inspiring bonsai from Lakeside Park in Oakland CA

Trust absurdity.

If I’ve learned anything in 26 years, it’s that no one knows what they’re doing. At the end of the day, unless you've lived a conscious life before, this is all our first rodeo. But despite no one knowing what’s going on, that doesn't make it any easier to understand what to do or how to do it.

When falling down the mountain, I made the correct choice to let myself surrender to the path ahead of me. You’re already up Shit Creek—you might as well enjoy the ride. In life, I’d like to bring the same mentality. I want to trust that the road ahead is both paved and unpaved, uphill and downhill, up to me and up to chance. All you have to do is walk the path. Keep your head up, with your core principles close to your heart. And most importantly, lead with love, because I trust that this path takes me to a worthwhile place.

In my mind, this is the process of trusting absurdity. Believe that you fell and broke a rib for a reason. Believe that you are sitting behind a desk for a reason. And above all, believe that you—despite your flaws—are well worth love and respect.

Go forth with love, my friends—thank you for reading. ❤️

---