In the spirit of spring cleaning, I am in the process of purging my bloated closet. Chucking things that I thought I couldn't live without in a blitzkrieg, an activity that's surprising easier than I anticipated. I've run into a snag though..
I've stumbled upon an old wooden box, a gift from my grandfather, full of handwritten memories.
Old journals, notebooks with sketchings and thoughts, and manila envelopes stuffed with pictures of times I forgot that I ever experience. It's an odd assortment of mixed-emotions: warm nostalgia, a reawakening to the emotions as I'm transported back to the moments captured by the item in my hand juxtaposed with the knowledge of the less-than-perfect memories that separate the man I am today from the boy was then.
Then there are the letters. They are soft, a sign that a significant amount of time has passed since their inceptions. Letters that my parents wrote the night before my State Championship football game and graduation. Correspondence between old high-school flames that I was convinced I loved at the time. Letters from sisters professing their love just before I moved to California. Small notes I received from friends and family that despite their shortness carry an impact because of their thoughtfulness. Letters from former loves (the real ones), some I remember discovering on my windshield after I finished a work shift, some are printed emails, many I thought I had thrown away during the normal purging that occurs during the painful breakup. Correspondence, either handwritten or printed email, with almost-lovers, their words dancing on the line of deep friendship and wistful thinking.
Then there are the letters that I wrote. The ones which were never delivered. The ones that carry my heart, either in the moments of it's breaking or the heaviness just before breaking another's. Nostalgia takes a twisted turn, traced with a form of regret. An entire library of thoughts cram my head as I walk through those experiences as well as the alternate experiences that I wish would have happened or could have made happen but didn't have the foresight in the actual midst of it all. Oh wait, it was those experiences that taught me foresight.
Then I think about whether or not I should toss them, save them, or even.. send them. Seems like a good idea considering I'm in a state of purge right now. So I think about their effect: they may change the recipient's retrospect of my reality or how I felt during that time but it wouldn't change what happened. Some the recipients I talk to (kinda), some I don't, some I make a point to avoid. I wouldn't even know how to go about finding the addresses to send them along.
As all of this swirls and grows, I find myself taking one last look, a deep breath and listening to the sound as I rip them apart and toss them in the trash can. I don't throw all the letters away, just the ones I shouldn't be hanging on to anymore.
The point is this: That was then, I'm in now. Many of those experiences are buried in pine, six feet under time. My life is much different now than it was then. I'm a much different person too. Who I was when I wrote those letters is dead and gone. The pedagogy of trial by fire has burned the naivety and fear of the unknown. I've lived a little, experienced some and learned what is and is not love and loss. As such, the letters are like takeaway memos of a long meeting that I didn't want to be in. In the scheme of everything I deal with on a daily basis they are just trivial pieces of paper. The lessons are burned on my heart, and I am thankful for them because they came at such a great cost. Throwing them away is just the physical action of hammering the last mental nail to the coffin I began building long ago.
Challenge: Burn it all. Let it go. Don't wish for what should have been or could have been. You can't bring them back, they are chapters that have already been written. Take those lessons and write new ones to look back on, this time with a smile.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Of Boys and Men
"Around the world, boys endure strange and humiliating rites of passage before coming men.. like wearing skinny jeans."
Again, I think Docker's is on to something here on their 'Second Dawn of Men' marketing program. But as I flip through some of the articles in this month's GQ, I notice one that states the 'Is this the End of Male Vanity?', it seems that there is a movement back to the Natural Man (or whatever).
At least it feels like an undercurrent, a subtle movement that man is more than vanity and paper thin shells. There are those who are merely swimming on the surface and those who's waters run deeper. Common sense can easily identify people in the extremes of these two groups: one waxes his eyebrows and gets botox at 21 and the other, well... doesn't.
The fact that this cultural shift occurred around the same time as the Great Recession is not merely coincidental, it may acutally be causal. Men have this interesting connection with the control of resources and through the evolution of various currencies in our history, credit became the soup-du-jour of this past decade. While it was flowing like milk and honey, the vanity factor increased exponentially because we could 'afford' it. Everyone went metro, got spray-on tans and paid (read: borrowed) $120 for ugly t-shirts.
While some ignorant few are still playing the arrogant bit (sidenote, I think it's interesting how closely both of those words are in terms of spelling and meaning). There is clearly an underlying difference between those who still cling to their chunky watches and waxed eyebrows and those who have accepted reality, took a long enough look in the mirror until they understood what they really saw and moved on.
The difference, you ask? Initiation.
Initiation is a wonderful and terrible thing because it separates the men from the boys. It's wonderful (to most) because it ensures that those who come out the other end are really capable of handling great responsibilities while equally (and terribly, to some) ensuring that those who lack the ability to be counted on for anything, simply aren't.
In other cultures, a male is not considered a man until he kills a lion. Then he is able to have the honor of being bestowed the responsibilities of marrying and procreating.
Personally, I think about that and wondering how many idiots had never been born if we had that ritual in our society.
Initiation now, as the Docker's advertisement referenced mentions, is mostly passive. Many men now must seek it or at least be acutely aware that it's happening. The Great Recession has been a wonderful initiation. It's the Darwinist cleansing that capitalism so greatly relies on to expose who is swimming naked when the tide goes out.
A man who has been initiated is one that is comfortable in his own skin. He doesn't need to be a poser with designer threads, chunky watches, massive lines of credit, and German cars that he can't afford. He doesn't need to flood his body with supplements and spend all his time being a big fish in a little pond at some gym. He doesn't need to pretend that he's an MMA fighter and look for fights wherever he goes. He needs to be himself and not anyone else. There are enough guys trying to be what the world tells them they should be and they aren't man enough to say no. Being a genuine individual that is conscientious of others and his relationship to them is, in part, being a real man. A real man realizes that he's one of a kind and let's the world deal with the weight of his presence.
Want to know whether or not you are comfortable in your own skin? Here's your challenge: go to a mirror, stand about 3 feet away and look yourself in the eyes for as long as you can. If you feel noticeably uncomfortable or can't hold the gaze for at least a minute, you may have some soul work that you need to do. As always I appreciate your comments and next time I'll be going a little more into the details of initiation.
Again, I think Docker's is on to something here on their 'Second Dawn of Men' marketing program. But as I flip through some of the articles in this month's GQ, I notice one that states the 'Is this the End of Male Vanity?', it seems that there is a movement back to the Natural Man (or whatever).
At least it feels like an undercurrent, a subtle movement that man is more than vanity and paper thin shells. There are those who are merely swimming on the surface and those who's waters run deeper. Common sense can easily identify people in the extremes of these two groups: one waxes his eyebrows and gets botox at 21 and the other, well... doesn't.
The fact that this cultural shift occurred around the same time as the Great Recession is not merely coincidental, it may acutally be causal. Men have this interesting connection with the control of resources and through the evolution of various currencies in our history, credit became the soup-du-jour of this past decade. While it was flowing like milk and honey, the vanity factor increased exponentially because we could 'afford' it. Everyone went metro, got spray-on tans and paid (read: borrowed) $120 for ugly t-shirts.
While some ignorant few are still playing the arrogant bit (sidenote, I think it's interesting how closely both of those words are in terms of spelling and meaning). There is clearly an underlying difference between those who still cling to their chunky watches and waxed eyebrows and those who have accepted reality, took a long enough look in the mirror until they understood what they really saw and moved on.
The difference, you ask? Initiation.
Initiation is a wonderful and terrible thing because it separates the men from the boys. It's wonderful (to most) because it ensures that those who come out the other end are really capable of handling great responsibilities while equally (and terribly, to some) ensuring that those who lack the ability to be counted on for anything, simply aren't.
In other cultures, a male is not considered a man until he kills a lion. Then he is able to have the honor of being bestowed the responsibilities of marrying and procreating.
Personally, I think about that and wondering how many idiots had never been born if we had that ritual in our society.
Initiation now, as the Docker's advertisement referenced mentions, is mostly passive. Many men now must seek it or at least be acutely aware that it's happening. The Great Recession has been a wonderful initiation. It's the Darwinist cleansing that capitalism so greatly relies on to expose who is swimming naked when the tide goes out.
A man who has been initiated is one that is comfortable in his own skin. He doesn't need to be a poser with designer threads, chunky watches, massive lines of credit, and German cars that he can't afford. He doesn't need to flood his body with supplements and spend all his time being a big fish in a little pond at some gym. He doesn't need to pretend that he's an MMA fighter and look for fights wherever he goes. He needs to be himself and not anyone else. There are enough guys trying to be what the world tells them they should be and they aren't man enough to say no. Being a genuine individual that is conscientious of others and his relationship to them is, in part, being a real man. A real man realizes that he's one of a kind and let's the world deal with the weight of his presence.
Want to know whether or not you are comfortable in your own skin? Here's your challenge: go to a mirror, stand about 3 feet away and look yourself in the eyes for as long as you can. If you feel noticeably uncomfortable or can't hold the gaze for at least a minute, you may have some soul work that you need to do. As always I appreciate your comments and next time I'll be going a little more into the details of initiation.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Of Sacrifice and Significance
Why the hell am I here?
Have you ever wondered that? In the midst of all the frustrations, the responsibilities, the aspirations and the chronic tendency to measure the difference between where you are and where you think you should be, sometimes the thought creeps in. When it's all said and done is there anything that transcends the daily experience of inches that we tend to lump into weeks and seasons whenever we get a chance to look in the rearview mirror? This universe is huge, the population of this planet is about 7 billion, and here I am hanging on for dear sanity on my way to another meeting, appointment, day of work (fill in the blank). Why I am I doing what I'm doing? Why am I not doing something else? If I even thought about doing something different, would it make any difference? Is my life going to make any difference at all? Is the sum of actions and decisions made throughout my life going to impact anything in course of humanity given that so much happens regardless of my interaction? Did my brain just fall out of my head?
I know for me personally, I have a great need for significance. I live for a pat on the back and a "good job, sonny" at the end of the day. I yearn to do things I'm passionate about, do them well and hopefully gain some recognition. I guess that's why I'm a workaholic: I equate significance with productivity. The logic works like this:
1. I want to be significant, to be appreciated for what I bring to the table and how that achieves a "good job, sonny".
2. A job well done requires two things: a job (duh), and a commitment to doing that job excellently.
3. If I do those two things, I get told that I'm doing a good job at the end of some period of time. Corporate America calls this a Performance Review -their 'good jobs' equal a 14 cent/hour raise (hooray!).
4. If I do those two things longer and better than anyone else for a long enough period of time, I get to climb the corporate ladder and (hopefully) be in a position where my actions and decisions affect more people and if I develop myself to be a good leader then (hopefully) my decisions make a positive impact on people's lives and then my significance comes in the form of observing the positive effects of my actions and decisions on a grand scale (hopefully).
5. I die and I take nothing with me.
Pretty awesome huh? Yeah I didn't think so either. It's egotistical and leaves no real impact on anyone for any real period of time after I start decomposing. I'm also dead, so I don't anticipate caring about what people think of me at that point either. Which leads be to the following question:
Why the hell am I here?
I read something super interesting tonight, it's from a book called Wild at Heart, by John Eldredge:
"A young pilot in the RAF wrote just before he went down in 1940: The universe is so vast and ageless that the life of one man can only be justified by the measure of his sacrifice."
Between the meetings, the classes, the studying, the politics, and the constant churning to progress my life to the upper echelon of what America thinks is significance, I often think to myself: this is the hill that I will die on. I'm sure that at some basic level, we have all thought that. This life is Hamburger Hill, it's claiming the lives of good people and turning them into living corpses in their quest to get to the top.
But what about that RAF pilot? ..the life of one man can only be justified by the measure of his sacrifice.
Suddenly, the meaning of personal significance is no longer linked to just doing a job well done. Could it be that real significance is linked to sacrifice? What does that even look like? The core of human nature is arguably survival. At least that's what Maslow and Darwin think. Look out for number One. "What am I getting out of this?"
Sacrifice is significant because it doesn't make sense. From a survival standpoint, sacrifice is unnatural because it requires that you lay down something you hold important for someone else. And that's it. You do it because of your conviction that it should be done and that you are the one to do it. Period. It's not like you walk around thinking, "Gee, I hope something perilous happens today so I can get on the news." Acts of selflessness are so significant because that's exactly what they are: selfless. I'm sure martyr isn't an occupation that kids want to be when they grow up, at least not amongst the industrialized nations. We want to be Astronauts, Sports Stars and Actors, we want to be significant for our unique achievements on a grand scale, not lay them down for the sake of others without payback.
There was a reference in my last post that now, for the first time since bad guys the world needs heroes. What makes a hero? Sacrifice. Taking a few moments out of your commute and your tunnel-vision schedule to do something for someone else. You don't need to rush into a burning building. You don't have to become Batman. Maybe just walk an old lady across the street.
Challenge: Become Batman. I'm kidding. But just try to work in a little sacrifice into your life. And like being a gentleman, don't do it because you get kudos and recognition, do it for the sake of being a man, and largely, being a good person. I want to hear your ideas on how you can actually work this into your life (hint: Consider starting with the people you love).
Have you ever wondered that? In the midst of all the frustrations, the responsibilities, the aspirations and the chronic tendency to measure the difference between where you are and where you think you should be, sometimes the thought creeps in. When it's all said and done is there anything that transcends the daily experience of inches that we tend to lump into weeks and seasons whenever we get a chance to look in the rearview mirror? This universe is huge, the population of this planet is about 7 billion, and here I am hanging on for dear sanity on my way to another meeting, appointment, day of work (fill in the blank). Why I am I doing what I'm doing? Why am I not doing something else? If I even thought about doing something different, would it make any difference? Is my life going to make any difference at all? Is the sum of actions and decisions made throughout my life going to impact anything in course of humanity given that so much happens regardless of my interaction? Did my brain just fall out of my head?
I know for me personally, I have a great need for significance. I live for a pat on the back and a "good job, sonny" at the end of the day. I yearn to do things I'm passionate about, do them well and hopefully gain some recognition. I guess that's why I'm a workaholic: I equate significance with productivity. The logic works like this:
1. I want to be significant, to be appreciated for what I bring to the table and how that achieves a "good job, sonny".
2. A job well done requires two things: a job (duh), and a commitment to doing that job excellently.
3. If I do those two things, I get told that I'm doing a good job at the end of some period of time. Corporate America calls this a Performance Review -their 'good jobs' equal a 14 cent/hour raise (hooray!).
4. If I do those two things longer and better than anyone else for a long enough period of time, I get to climb the corporate ladder and (hopefully) be in a position where my actions and decisions affect more people and if I develop myself to be a good leader then (hopefully) my decisions make a positive impact on people's lives and then my significance comes in the form of observing the positive effects of my actions and decisions on a grand scale (hopefully).
5. I die and I take nothing with me.
Pretty awesome huh? Yeah I didn't think so either. It's egotistical and leaves no real impact on anyone for any real period of time after I start decomposing. I'm also dead, so I don't anticipate caring about what people think of me at that point either. Which leads be to the following question:
Why the hell am I here?
I read something super interesting tonight, it's from a book called Wild at Heart, by John Eldredge:
"A young pilot in the RAF wrote just before he went down in 1940: The universe is so vast and ageless that the life of one man can only be justified by the measure of his sacrifice."
Between the meetings, the classes, the studying, the politics, and the constant churning to progress my life to the upper echelon of what America thinks is significance, I often think to myself: this is the hill that I will die on. I'm sure that at some basic level, we have all thought that. This life is Hamburger Hill, it's claiming the lives of good people and turning them into living corpses in their quest to get to the top.
But what about that RAF pilot? ..the life of one man can only be justified by the measure of his sacrifice.
Suddenly, the meaning of personal significance is no longer linked to just doing a job well done. Could it be that real significance is linked to sacrifice? What does that even look like? The core of human nature is arguably survival. At least that's what Maslow and Darwin think. Look out for number One. "What am I getting out of this?"
Sacrifice is significant because it doesn't make sense. From a survival standpoint, sacrifice is unnatural because it requires that you lay down something you hold important for someone else. And that's it. You do it because of your conviction that it should be done and that you are the one to do it. Period. It's not like you walk around thinking, "Gee, I hope something perilous happens today so I can get on the news." Acts of selflessness are so significant because that's exactly what they are: selfless. I'm sure martyr isn't an occupation that kids want to be when they grow up, at least not amongst the industrialized nations. We want to be Astronauts, Sports Stars and Actors, we want to be significant for our unique achievements on a grand scale, not lay them down for the sake of others without payback.
There was a reference in my last post that now, for the first time since bad guys the world needs heroes. What makes a hero? Sacrifice. Taking a few moments out of your commute and your tunnel-vision schedule to do something for someone else. You don't need to rush into a burning building. You don't have to become Batman. Maybe just walk an old lady across the street.
Challenge: Become Batman. I'm kidding. But just try to work in a little sacrifice into your life. And like being a gentleman, don't do it because you get kudos and recognition, do it for the sake of being a man, and largely, being a good person. I want to hear your ideas on how you can actually work this into your life (hint: Consider starting with the people you love).
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Death of a Gentleman.
We are a nation of playboys.
I muttered these words to myself as I flipped through the first few pages of this month's GQ magazine. These fashion advertisements portray what these designers think the average American male should aspire to: overly-tanned, self-centered objects of sexually-ambiguous excess. I am in no way homophobic, I have a lot of good friends that are homosexual. But this blitzkrieg of pomp and arrogance succeeds in giving me a model on how to perfectly execute a meticulously-dressed shell. But what about the core?
Then comes one of the most profound advertisements I've seen in recent memory:
Once upon a time, men wore the pants.
And wore them well.
Women rarely had to open doors and little old ladies never crossed the street alone.
Men took charge because that's what they did.
But somewhere along the way, the world decided it no longer needed men.
Disco by disco, latte by foamy non-fat latte, men were stripped of their khakis and left stranded on the road between boyhood and androgyny.
But today, there are questions our genderless society has no answers for.
The world sits idly by as cities crumble, children misbehave and those little old ladies remain on one side of the street.
For the first time since bad guys, we need heroes.
We need grown-ups.
We need men to put down the plastic fork, step away from the salad bar, and untie the world from the tracks of complacency.
It's time to get your hands dirty.
It's time to answer the call of manhood.
It's time to WEAR THE PANTS.
Thank you Docker's. You read my mind.
I recently sat in a group (I was the only male there), and it was a generalized complaint that there were no more gentlemen left. That there was no formality in dating, no courting, just a bunch of guys asking to hang out- hopefully thinking that it will eventually lead to sex. No leadership, nothing to offer, everything to take. All these women came from different backgrounds, they have different perspectives on their roles as women, but the simple aggreance was that they wished for more men to act like men.
Guys: Be a Man. Take charge. Don't be a flaky cop out. Live your life as if it existed before FICO scores, when your signature and your handshake was the only thing that mattered. Open doors for women, take your hats off inside, wear pants that fit, and wear them around your waist with a belt. Have some manners. And do it, not for sex or for "points" as I see so many marriages based on, but for the simple fact that you earn the right to upgrade from "Male" to "Man".
Women: Be a Lady. Let us be men. Shoot hard-lined feminists on site, for that's what they did to gentlemanship. They forgot that there is a difference between heroes and bad guys, thus producing a genderless society where no one wins. Women have more opportunities, but less pay (sadly) and men don't know which actions build him as a man and which ones he will be ridiculed for as a shovenist. Guide the protocol by reciprocating acts of Gentlemanship with acts of lady-like behavior. If you text during dinner on a first date and talk about all the "best guy friends" that you "love to death", don't let it be a surprise when we drop you off at the end of the night and don't call again.
I aspire to be a Man. I want to court a Lady. I want to be a part of a society in which there are basic manners that everybody knows and respects. Being civilized is not a function of enlightenment where you are the most amiable and adaptable man in the room, someone who has no presence. Being civilized is being courteous and having manners but knowing that sometimes you need to draw a line in the sand and stand for what you believe in in a way that is firm but respectful.
There are times to show courtesy and respect and there are times to stand and deliver when that respect has been violated. The more that the latter is emasculated, the quicker Gentlemen become extinct. Because manners and courtesy are derived from unshakeable masculine strength. That strength is only realized and defined when it is put to use. If you stop telling us to put it to use, then all you end up with are a bunch of soft "nice guys."
Gentlemen: It's time to be Men. For the sake of being Men.
I muttered these words to myself as I flipped through the first few pages of this month's GQ magazine. These fashion advertisements portray what these designers think the average American male should aspire to: overly-tanned, self-centered objects of sexually-ambiguous excess. I am in no way homophobic, I have a lot of good friends that are homosexual. But this blitzkrieg of pomp and arrogance succeeds in giving me a model on how to perfectly execute a meticulously-dressed shell. But what about the core?
Then comes one of the most profound advertisements I've seen in recent memory:
Once upon a time, men wore the pants.
And wore them well.
Women rarely had to open doors and little old ladies never crossed the street alone.
Men took charge because that's what they did.
But somewhere along the way, the world decided it no longer needed men.
Disco by disco, latte by foamy non-fat latte, men were stripped of their khakis and left stranded on the road between boyhood and androgyny.
But today, there are questions our genderless society has no answers for.
The world sits idly by as cities crumble, children misbehave and those little old ladies remain on one side of the street.
For the first time since bad guys, we need heroes.
We need grown-ups.
We need men to put down the plastic fork, step away from the salad bar, and untie the world from the tracks of complacency.
It's time to get your hands dirty.
It's time to answer the call of manhood.
It's time to WEAR THE PANTS.
Thank you Docker's. You read my mind.
I recently sat in a group (I was the only male there), and it was a generalized complaint that there were no more gentlemen left. That there was no formality in dating, no courting, just a bunch of guys asking to hang out- hopefully thinking that it will eventually lead to sex. No leadership, nothing to offer, everything to take. All these women came from different backgrounds, they have different perspectives on their roles as women, but the simple aggreance was that they wished for more men to act like men.
Guys: Be a Man. Take charge. Don't be a flaky cop out. Live your life as if it existed before FICO scores, when your signature and your handshake was the only thing that mattered. Open doors for women, take your hats off inside, wear pants that fit, and wear them around your waist with a belt. Have some manners. And do it, not for sex or for "points" as I see so many marriages based on, but for the simple fact that you earn the right to upgrade from "Male" to "Man".
Women: Be a Lady. Let us be men. Shoot hard-lined feminists on site, for that's what they did to gentlemanship. They forgot that there is a difference between heroes and bad guys, thus producing a genderless society where no one wins. Women have more opportunities, but less pay (sadly) and men don't know which actions build him as a man and which ones he will be ridiculed for as a shovenist. Guide the protocol by reciprocating acts of Gentlemanship with acts of lady-like behavior. If you text during dinner on a first date and talk about all the "best guy friends" that you "love to death", don't let it be a surprise when we drop you off at the end of the night and don't call again.
I aspire to be a Man. I want to court a Lady. I want to be a part of a society in which there are basic manners that everybody knows and respects. Being civilized is not a function of enlightenment where you are the most amiable and adaptable man in the room, someone who has no presence. Being civilized is being courteous and having manners but knowing that sometimes you need to draw a line in the sand and stand for what you believe in in a way that is firm but respectful.
There are times to show courtesy and respect and there are times to stand and deliver when that respect has been violated. The more that the latter is emasculated, the quicker Gentlemen become extinct. Because manners and courtesy are derived from unshakeable masculine strength. That strength is only realized and defined when it is put to use. If you stop telling us to put it to use, then all you end up with are a bunch of soft "nice guys."
Gentlemen: It's time to be Men. For the sake of being Men.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Stand and Feel Your Worth
"Stand and Feel Your Worth" - Thrice
This moment, I am in finance class. The same one I have bitched about in previews posts. We are reviewing our first midterm test scores. My two classmates, both amicable colleagues in this and other classes of mine this semester are groaning about their results. They are finance majors and have received scores in the mid-sixties. I, an entrepreneurship major, receieved an 89. I would lie if I didn't feel the least bit gratified, maybe that's my competitive nature.
But I don't need to say anything, my score has. I have said nothing while they mutter their self-directed frustration as I remember some comments they've made about their confidence in my ability to lead our group assignment in this class this semester. I do not boast. When I see the look of dejection in their faces, it is a look that I recognize wearing a few times throughout my college career.
In this moment, I realize that humble pie is derives, and is derived from humility. Those that are served choke down its bitter taste. Those that serve it must show humility, or else be selected for a helping later down the road.
As I reflect the servings of humble pie that I have injested over the last few weeks, I realize that humility is hardly a derivative of words but rather of actions. Some of you know that I have an entrepreneurial idea that is beginning to turn into a fairly exciting venture. What started as an idea while selling credit card protection products over the phone in July of 2008, was barely validated by an early investor in overstock.com to be (potentially, if I don't screw it up) a multi-million dollar company, maybe a viable competitor to major players in the national market. I am humbled. Entrepreneurship is a team sport, I am only here at this level because the people on my team are constantly raising the bar for themselves and expecting as much from me. I actually hesitate to tell others what I am attempting to do. I am not funded. I don't have an operational model. I am not incorporated. But I have people who are cheering me on. Evangelizing my idea, my aspirations and my direction. I am humbled.
I have learned the lack of respect that people will show you when you are all talk and no show. Conversely, I have begun to see the regard that people hold you in when you say little, do much, then say even less. But I am human and though I wish to continue that behaviorial trend, I will fail. Good thing God gives us grace as a model as to what we should show to others. For though I am initially tempted to rub my classmates' faces in the dirt, I have actually offered my consolation and aid for future tests. For the high road is its own reward: you can walk on solid ground without feeling contaminated by selfishness.
So my challenge is this: Stand and Feel Your Worth. Feel it through the actions you bathe in excellence. Feel it in the admiration, if properly earned, that others show you. Feel it in yourself when you rest on quiet confidence, emphasis on quiet.
This moment, I am in finance class. The same one I have bitched about in previews posts. We are reviewing our first midterm test scores. My two classmates, both amicable colleagues in this and other classes of mine this semester are groaning about their results. They are finance majors and have received scores in the mid-sixties. I, an entrepreneurship major, receieved an 89. I would lie if I didn't feel the least bit gratified, maybe that's my competitive nature.
But I don't need to say anything, my score has. I have said nothing while they mutter their self-directed frustration as I remember some comments they've made about their confidence in my ability to lead our group assignment in this class this semester. I do not boast. When I see the look of dejection in their faces, it is a look that I recognize wearing a few times throughout my college career.
In this moment, I realize that humble pie is derives, and is derived from humility. Those that are served choke down its bitter taste. Those that serve it must show humility, or else be selected for a helping later down the road.
As I reflect the servings of humble pie that I have injested over the last few weeks, I realize that humility is hardly a derivative of words but rather of actions. Some of you know that I have an entrepreneurial idea that is beginning to turn into a fairly exciting venture. What started as an idea while selling credit card protection products over the phone in July of 2008, was barely validated by an early investor in overstock.com to be (potentially, if I don't screw it up) a multi-million dollar company, maybe a viable competitor to major players in the national market. I am humbled. Entrepreneurship is a team sport, I am only here at this level because the people on my team are constantly raising the bar for themselves and expecting as much from me. I actually hesitate to tell others what I am attempting to do. I am not funded. I don't have an operational model. I am not incorporated. But I have people who are cheering me on. Evangelizing my idea, my aspirations and my direction. I am humbled.
I have learned the lack of respect that people will show you when you are all talk and no show. Conversely, I have begun to see the regard that people hold you in when you say little, do much, then say even less. But I am human and though I wish to continue that behaviorial trend, I will fail. Good thing God gives us grace as a model as to what we should show to others. For though I am initially tempted to rub my classmates' faces in the dirt, I have actually offered my consolation and aid for future tests. For the high road is its own reward: you can walk on solid ground without feeling contaminated by selfishness.
So my challenge is this: Stand and Feel Your Worth. Feel it through the actions you bathe in excellence. Feel it in the admiration, if properly earned, that others show you. Feel it in yourself when you rest on quiet confidence, emphasis on quiet.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Dying
Today, I met a 22 year old who died three times about a month ago.
That's right: DIED THREE TIMES.
He told me how he got sick with what he thought was the flu about 6 weeks ago and it worsened to the point that he couldn't lift his head. Turned out his heart, his kidneys, and his liver were all failing simultaneously. He was life-flighted from his home in Jackson Hole, Wy to the University Hospital ICU. This kid is a healthy 22-yr-old with no history of medical problems personally or in his family. Over the course of 3 days his heart flatlined for about 5-7 minutes on three different occasions. He was not expected to last through night many times during the week he was in ICU.
I asked him what dying was like and he described, in vivid detail his experience of coming out of a dark forest to an open field of wheat and the warmth and peace. He also went on to say that each death-experience ended with loud thud noises which was actually his heart beginning to pump again, then waking up with a team of doctors presiding over him in their attempts to resuscitate him. He remembers that he clearly knew he was dying each time.
To make a long story short, he recovered in 2 and a half weeks with absolutely no scarring on his heart- a medical miracle. Here is a paraphrase of his perspective during the whole deal:
"After I died the first time, I really prayed to God about his will for my life and if my death at the age of 22 would really be something for his glory. I never heard an audible voice, but I had the confidence, despite how bleak my situation was, that now was not the time for me to go. Even though I died two more times after, I felt that God had something else that he wanted me to do. From that point on I was determined to get out of that hospital in two and a half weeks. After a week, my tests came back good enough that I could be moved out of ICU. The results continued to improve, and 2 weeks and 2 days after I was admitted, I was released and walking on my own."
He is not allowed to leave Utah because he needs to be under careful monitoring and there are not enough good hospitals in his hometown. The following though is what really impacted me:
"I was truly ok with dying, after experiencing what life after death has to offer, I look forward to the day that I die and NOT come back. But it's that experience that truly allows me to live. It's not until you lose your life do you really gain it."
Everything that I thought was a big deal in my life when I walked into that meeting tonight went out the window. I was speechless, which you all know is impossible. This guy was so positive, had a get-it-done attitude and was not ashamed to enlist his unsolicited faith in God.
I was given a reality check from someone who has lived only as long as I have: that all of us are subject to mortality. He also taught me that we all have a choice in how we face that mortality (sometimes more than once). That we can choose to accept what we can't change about dying and that sometimes the attitude in which we walk through the valley of death is often the difference that helps us come out alive.
Challenge: Lose your life. Honestly imagine what would happen if you suddenly were removed from this earth. Gone without warning. No chance to prepare your will, or say your goodbyes. As you think about it, do you find that you are satisfied with the way you lived your life? Or do you still have more living to do? Like most of us, if you answered the second question, you still have things that you want to satisfy. Satisfy them, but remember: you can't take anything with you. All you have is your name and how you will be remembered by the people that were in your life. Do wish that you would have done more for them? Then go do it. Do you wish that they would really know how you feel about them? Then go tell them. Don't compromise, don't take shortcuts. Live every moment of your life in personal excellence, because you never know which one will be your last.
That's right: DIED THREE TIMES.
He told me how he got sick with what he thought was the flu about 6 weeks ago and it worsened to the point that he couldn't lift his head. Turned out his heart, his kidneys, and his liver were all failing simultaneously. He was life-flighted from his home in Jackson Hole, Wy to the University Hospital ICU. This kid is a healthy 22-yr-old with no history of medical problems personally or in his family. Over the course of 3 days his heart flatlined for about 5-7 minutes on three different occasions. He was not expected to last through night many times during the week he was in ICU.
I asked him what dying was like and he described, in vivid detail his experience of coming out of a dark forest to an open field of wheat and the warmth and peace. He also went on to say that each death-experience ended with loud thud noises which was actually his heart beginning to pump again, then waking up with a team of doctors presiding over him in their attempts to resuscitate him. He remembers that he clearly knew he was dying each time.
To make a long story short, he recovered in 2 and a half weeks with absolutely no scarring on his heart- a medical miracle. Here is a paraphrase of his perspective during the whole deal:
"After I died the first time, I really prayed to God about his will for my life and if my death at the age of 22 would really be something for his glory. I never heard an audible voice, but I had the confidence, despite how bleak my situation was, that now was not the time for me to go. Even though I died two more times after, I felt that God had something else that he wanted me to do. From that point on I was determined to get out of that hospital in two and a half weeks. After a week, my tests came back good enough that I could be moved out of ICU. The results continued to improve, and 2 weeks and 2 days after I was admitted, I was released and walking on my own."
He is not allowed to leave Utah because he needs to be under careful monitoring and there are not enough good hospitals in his hometown. The following though is what really impacted me:
"I was truly ok with dying, after experiencing what life after death has to offer, I look forward to the day that I die and NOT come back. But it's that experience that truly allows me to live. It's not until you lose your life do you really gain it."
Everything that I thought was a big deal in my life when I walked into that meeting tonight went out the window. I was speechless, which you all know is impossible. This guy was so positive, had a get-it-done attitude and was not ashamed to enlist his unsolicited faith in God.
I was given a reality check from someone who has lived only as long as I have: that all of us are subject to mortality. He also taught me that we all have a choice in how we face that mortality (sometimes more than once). That we can choose to accept what we can't change about dying and that sometimes the attitude in which we walk through the valley of death is often the difference that helps us come out alive.
Challenge: Lose your life. Honestly imagine what would happen if you suddenly were removed from this earth. Gone without warning. No chance to prepare your will, or say your goodbyes. As you think about it, do you find that you are satisfied with the way you lived your life? Or do you still have more living to do? Like most of us, if you answered the second question, you still have things that you want to satisfy. Satisfy them, but remember: you can't take anything with you. All you have is your name and how you will be remembered by the people that were in your life. Do wish that you would have done more for them? Then go do it. Do you wish that they would really know how you feel about them? Then go tell them. Don't compromise, don't take shortcuts. Live every moment of your life in personal excellence, because you never know which one will be your last.
Perspective
I love experential knowledge.
Learning something through an experience is an experience in itself, often because we didn't expect to learn anything as the events started to unfold. Sometimes, this learning, at an even more basic is really the just the identification of something we didn't know was there before.
The thing about experience is that it takes your preconcieved notions about anything and changes the angle by which you view it. Sometimes that means just being closer to that object or notion. I think that often we think of a change of perspective as a matter of degrees but I have found that the world, your thoughts, your biases shift significantly when you get closer to something. The details of an ideal become more visible, as if you placed an HD lens over your perspective. You notice that it's not glossy, but rough and textured. Even more importantly, you realize that it's not as solid as you once thought in your former persective, but something that can be prodded, poked, and probed.. even molded; like slightly moist clay that you need to exert significant pressure to alter. You take a moment to reassess your surroundings, gauge your reaction, then reconcile them to previous thoughts and assumptions, then move on a slightly different person.
I have many ideals that have changed the closer that I moved to them. One moment you are at a seemingly significant distance from a lifestyle (group of actions, behaviors, thoughts, value system, consequences, etc), then a conversation throws you into the center of it. Now you are experiencing it from the inside looking out. Whereas you were previously looking at it from the outside at what you thought was an solid, opaque shell; you are realizing that your assumption was wrong: it's a permeable membrane that where you can move freely.
As I get further along in my college career, I also get closer to the "real world." My chosen profession is 'change agent', the world calls it entrepreneurship. I want my job to be invovled in start-ups. To many, this lends a sense of arrogance. I know because I felt the same way last year, when I was on the outside, looking at what were my (erroneous) assumptions about the entrepreneurship lifestyle. But I have been allowed to continue getting closer, and it's not some sugar-coated shell of wealth and adventure. Sure there's adventure, but there's massive sacrifice. I have learned about personal burn rate. That there is no trade-off, no tit-for-tat on focussing on one area of your life at the expense of another. In order to do this you have to change your perspective. Because of my passion for making awesome ideas a reality, I can align my personal life (what's that?) with my "work life".
To drive the point further, I am realizing that being an entrepreneur is an "all the time thing, not a some of the time thing". For those of us who played sports and excelled at them, we know that phrase is often Vince Lombardi's mantra on winning. Excellence, a critical component of anything that amounts to anything you do in life (should you so chose), is a state of being not something you turn on and off at will. So I have found a way to make my passion be the solvent and dropped the things in my life I thought I could compartmentalize to be dissolved into a whole new solution, spinning in the beaker of my life.
For years, up until a few weeks ago, I had no idea that I would have learned the things I just described, mainly because I didn't know they existed -that they were constant elements you had to accept as you walked through that membrane. Does it sound harsh? Well it depends on your perspective... The same company looks very different if you are viewing it through a corporate or entrepreneurial lens. Even more so depending where that particular lens is positioned.
But then again so is life. I once read that you actually train yourself to be a fatalist or opportunist. Even more interesting is that you can, through training, change. Your perspective, the lens in which you view anything, can be changed. Sometimes you move it under you own choice (intentional or not), sometimes life moves it for you. Or give you another one.
My challenge is this: take anything, anything, in your life that you feel absolutely certain on and change your perspective of it. Move the lens, adjust the focus, or get a new one altogether. See how things change and take notice of how you change in reaction to the new information. Then do it again. And keep doing it and see if you can alternate between all of these perspectives quickly and accurately. Then move on to something else, then let me know your reaction.
Learning something through an experience is an experience in itself, often because we didn't expect to learn anything as the events started to unfold. Sometimes, this learning, at an even more basic is really the just the identification of something we didn't know was there before.
The thing about experience is that it takes your preconcieved notions about anything and changes the angle by which you view it. Sometimes that means just being closer to that object or notion. I think that often we think of a change of perspective as a matter of degrees but I have found that the world, your thoughts, your biases shift significantly when you get closer to something. The details of an ideal become more visible, as if you placed an HD lens over your perspective. You notice that it's not glossy, but rough and textured. Even more importantly, you realize that it's not as solid as you once thought in your former persective, but something that can be prodded, poked, and probed.. even molded; like slightly moist clay that you need to exert significant pressure to alter. You take a moment to reassess your surroundings, gauge your reaction, then reconcile them to previous thoughts and assumptions, then move on a slightly different person.
I have many ideals that have changed the closer that I moved to them. One moment you are at a seemingly significant distance from a lifestyle (group of actions, behaviors, thoughts, value system, consequences, etc), then a conversation throws you into the center of it. Now you are experiencing it from the inside looking out. Whereas you were previously looking at it from the outside at what you thought was an solid, opaque shell; you are realizing that your assumption was wrong: it's a permeable membrane that where you can move freely.
As I get further along in my college career, I also get closer to the "real world." My chosen profession is 'change agent', the world calls it entrepreneurship. I want my job to be invovled in start-ups. To many, this lends a sense of arrogance. I know because I felt the same way last year, when I was on the outside, looking at what were my (erroneous) assumptions about the entrepreneurship lifestyle. But I have been allowed to continue getting closer, and it's not some sugar-coated shell of wealth and adventure. Sure there's adventure, but there's massive sacrifice. I have learned about personal burn rate. That there is no trade-off, no tit-for-tat on focussing on one area of your life at the expense of another. In order to do this you have to change your perspective. Because of my passion for making awesome ideas a reality, I can align my personal life (what's that?) with my "work life".
To drive the point further, I am realizing that being an entrepreneur is an "all the time thing, not a some of the time thing". For those of us who played sports and excelled at them, we know that phrase is often Vince Lombardi's mantra on winning. Excellence, a critical component of anything that amounts to anything you do in life (should you so chose), is a state of being not something you turn on and off at will. So I have found a way to make my passion be the solvent and dropped the things in my life I thought I could compartmentalize to be dissolved into a whole new solution, spinning in the beaker of my life.
For years, up until a few weeks ago, I had no idea that I would have learned the things I just described, mainly because I didn't know they existed -that they were constant elements you had to accept as you walked through that membrane. Does it sound harsh? Well it depends on your perspective... The same company looks very different if you are viewing it through a corporate or entrepreneurial lens. Even more so depending where that particular lens is positioned.
But then again so is life. I once read that you actually train yourself to be a fatalist or opportunist. Even more interesting is that you can, through training, change. Your perspective, the lens in which you view anything, can be changed. Sometimes you move it under you own choice (intentional or not), sometimes life moves it for you. Or give you another one.
My challenge is this: take anything, anything, in your life that you feel absolutely certain on and change your perspective of it. Move the lens, adjust the focus, or get a new one altogether. See how things change and take notice of how you change in reaction to the new information. Then do it again. And keep doing it and see if you can alternate between all of these perspectives quickly and accurately. Then move on to something else, then let me know your reaction.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)