How to not understand s**t and be OK with it

Coming from a not so former self-control freak.

I recently discovered by accident (like almost all my personal discoveries) that I like french pop. Specifically, that I can listen to it for a very long time without understading any of the lyrics and it even helps me focus to do whatever adult task I (regrettably) have to do.

This discovery is a useless achievement that I am very proud of, not just because all things french are tres chic and we all want to be tres cool, but because I have always been an “internal” control freak.

What does that even mean, you may ask. It’s a weird self diagnosis I just made up, based on the fact that socially, I am a very laid back, go with the flow kind of person, but internally I am the opposite. I like to be in CONTROL. Of my thoughts, my words, my feelings. I need to UNDERSTAND what I´m thinking, hearing and perceiving to feel able to carry myself in the world, like a competent adult “should” at all times.

So as I was scrolling through my emails, my spotify algorithm decided to remember the one time I played on repeat one or two Angele songs and threw me into a french pop loop without me even noticing. Suddenly I´m listening to foreign words that (surprise!) don`t distract me from the main task because my brain is not even making an effort to understand the lyrics, just because je ne parle pas francaise.

So what? you liked the music, we get it. But the takeout is — not understanding is great. It can be liberating. Not everything is a rational process — not everything should be. Turns out that music, art, literature (even other people!) have the power to “hack” the brain (especially an overthinking one like mine) and help it “flow” in the right direction. In my case, I think I answered my emails like a decent adult thanks to le francoise.

To my fellow inner control freaks, try it out: find a playlist in a foreign language, go to a weird modern art exhibition and don´t try to find explanations for what you see.

And if you don´t like it, at least you get to tell people how cool you are for knowing a couple of French singers, even if the real truth is that, like me, you are, at you core, a die hard reggaeton fan.

Dale!