SOMEBODY BURNED MY $200 CANDLE (AND HERE'S WHAT I LEARNED)
Last year I wrote about buying, and never burning, a $200 Diptyque candle. Then, to my horror, a new dog sitter burned it for me. Let's dissect this beautifully poetic lesson from the universe.
Here’s a lesson I learned the hard way: Knowing we want to do something and doing it are two very different things. Now stick with me for a minute while I tell you about the most haunting purchase I’ve ever made.
Three years ago, I panicked in a Diptyque store and bought a $200 candle (the candle is now $220, because again, this was 3 years ago). On the one hand, I couldn’t really afford it. On the other hand, it would solve all of my problems and I needed to own it. So, against the advice of my friend who told me it was really expensive for a candle, I bought it.
I proudly displayed the perfect pink candle on my mantle for weeks. And weeks. Two years later, I still hadn’t burned it. Wasn’t it irresponsible to just, literally, light $200 on fire??
Last January, I told a more detailed version of the story here on Little Things, and I vowed to burn it.
“We only have so much time on this earth, so I’m gonna burn my goddamn candle,” I wrote. I vowed to not hold so tightly to material things. To trust that I will have a life of abundance, with all the candles my heart desires. I vowed to live for the moment instead of hoarding the nice things for later. I am worthy NOW, I proclaimed.
I finally lit the candle.
Once.
For about three hours. Three, delicious-smelling hours.
Cut to a year later.
I walk into my home after spending the holidays on the East Coast. I greet my dog, and I notice my pink candle on the kitchen table. Huh, not where I left that, I think.
I go to move it and to my horror, to my utter disbelief, I see that MY DOG SITTER BURNED MY $200 CANDLE. LIKE, A LOT OF IT. LIKE, HALF OF IT — $100 OF DELICIOUS SCENTS — IS GONE. HE TOOK MY HARDLY BURNED CANDLE OFF MY LITTLE MANTLE, AND CASUALLY LIT IT ON FIRE.
There is devastating, unbelievable tragedy in the world right now. Before moving forward let’s collectively acknowledge that this is the worst thing to ever happen to anybody. Ever. Great. Moving on.
My friend Michelle who was with me when I bought it indulged my anger: What dog sitter lights a decorative candle?! You should Venmo request him! My husband tried to justify it: We didn’t tell him not to burn our candles. Maybe he thinks we are always buying $200 Diptyque candles instead of having purchased a single one three years ago, which caused an existential crisis.
Why was this causing me so much pain? Was it really about the money? Or was it that I knew I wanted to light it — but didn’t?
There is often such a lapse of time between knowing what we want and being able to take action to achieve it.
We know the habits we want to adopt but put off changing our routine. We know what foods make us feel best, but don’t prioritize eating them. In an Esther Perel podcast I once listened to, she claimed that most people know at least six months before breaking up with somebody that they want to do it. They wait not because they’re cruel, but because they aren’t ready for action. They need to spend more time in the knowing.
There is a name for this: The knowing-doing gap, which represents the disconnect between knowledge and action.
The Harvard Business Review explains that the knowing-doing gap “can often be traced to a basic human propensity: the willingness to let talk substitute for action… When confronted with a problem, people act as if discussing it, formulating decisions, and hashing out plans for action are the same as actually fixing it.”
A year ago, I finally felt deserving of my candle, which felt like growth. In some ways, it was enough. I knew I should light it, so I basically lit it, right? I was a classic case of the knowing-doing gap.
When my dog sitter burned my second most prized possession (my dog is #1, of course), I was so sad that I couldn’t enjoy the full candle, which made me realize how badly I wanted to. It was a painful reminder that if you don’t make active choices, somebody else will make them for you. Often, that will both clarify what you want and also fill you with regret over not doing it. The message from the universe could not have been clearer, or more perfectly poetic: Light your fucking candle, or somebody else will. Do what you want, or lose out on what you want.
In every area of my life, I feel ready to move from knowing to doing. It is time for action. Years in therapy figuring out why we are the way we are is important, but it is not the same as taking action to make new choices and become who we want to be. Knowing we want something is the most crucial step, but it is not the same as actively working towards it.
Next week, nearly 100 of us will start The Artist’s Way together, and the knowing-doing gap is exactly why I’m so excited: Last year, I explored the knowing. I learned what I needed to do to love myself, to reach my potential, to feel creatively free. This year, I’m ready to live in the doing.
Will I finally burn my candle? I think I will. But this post isn’t about words. It’s about moving out of the shadow and into the action. So I’ll see you next January to update you on its status. And LEAVE YOUR DOG SITTER THOROUGH INSTRUCTIONS ON WHAT NOT TO USE, PEOPLE.
