The Bear

I didn’t expect The Bear to make me uncomfortable.

Not because of the kitchen chaos or the screaming, and there’s plenty of both. Because of how much the characters care. Carmen beating himself over a dish. Richie discovering, after years of drifting, that he’s actually good at something when he finally commits. Every one of them giving more than they have, suffering for it, and doing it anyway.

Watching that made me aware of something I usually don’t look at directly: I don’t do that. I hold back.

At university, I did the bare minimum to get by. At work, I reach for the easiest path. I’ve told myself this is a kind of intelligence, as a way to simplify, automate, avoid unnecessary effort. And some of it is. But some of it is just avoidance dressed up as efficiency.

Not going all-in is a way to avoid completely failing. It’s also a way to avoid feeling fully realized.

I’m not sure I know how to fix that. But The Bear made it harder to pretend I hadn’t noticed.