Thanks to you guys I’m closing in on the goal. I’m not there yet so if you’re so disposed to make a contribution, do it.
A BIG THANK YOU to everybody who has contributed. Even you anonymous ones. You frustrate the snot out of me being anonymous but thank you just the same. Know this…
Participation in the project doesn’t rely on your financial contribution. I’m super grateful for the donations, but I’m VERY anxious to gather your stories of a time when you were encouraged in a meaningful way.
Please click on that Support This Podcast tab in the navigation and learn more about how you can share those stories with me.
“Life is a marathon, not a sprint.”
Yeah, who says?
Just another thing that sounds smart, but maybe it’s not. Okay, forget about smart. Is it accurate? Not likely.
I watched yet another documentary on Janis Joplin the other night during another bout of insomnia. She died at 27. Along with a host of other rock and rollers like Jimi Hendrix. 27 seems to be a popular age to check out if you’re given to excess. There’s even a 27 Club.
I guess 27 years is a marathon compared to 2 years. Life is relative. But lifespan isn’t usually what we’re referring to when we say, “Life is a marathon, not a sprint.” Mostly, I think people mean things take time. So the saying is really an exhortation toward endurance, patience and staying with it.
But it implies something more.
That slow and steady is the path to success. And that fast is the enemy.
Is that right?
Well, it can be. But not necessarily.
Truth is likely far more complicated. And difficult.
Human endeavor largely depends on our beliefs. That’s why these are important subjects to discuss. Even more important to think about. And yet even more important to figure out so we can implement positive changes in our actions.
Does it take a long time to make a positive change?
Is growth always a marathon?
Can we not change our minds and our lives quickly?
We’re human beings with greater capacity for achievement and adaptation than any creatures on the planet. Other creatures require more time to adapt because they have to experience changes before they adapt. Or before they begin to learn how to adapt.
Not us.
We can think about it in our minds before we ever experience it. That gives us the opportunity and ability to make changes quickly. Humans have the innate ability to figure things out. And quickly.
This may be on more of a micro or short-term level, but it has a macro or longer-term ramifications. We can figure out what to do next rather quickly about most things. People do things, say things and we face new circumstances or situations. If life were really a marathon we’d be stuck trying to navigate our way through all the new people and situations we face. But that’s not the case.
Sure, some folks can do it more quickly than others, but every human being blessed with sufficient cognitive ability and mental health has the capacity to figure out rather quickly what to do. There’s just one little catch. Okay, it’s not so little.
We don’t always implement wisdom in figuring it out. Long-time listeners know how I define wisdom. It’s not very complicated the way I think of it because I’m pretty simple.
Wisdom is getting it right in real time.
We can all get it right in hindsight. Some of us need a few times maybe. But the real catch is to figure it out in real-time. To get it right as it’s happening.
It’s really hard. The time pressure is real.
Many psychiatrists and psychologists have written and given talks about ways we can improve our brains. Which should translate into how we can think better. There’s quite a lot written and said about reality. I bring this up because we don’t always see the reality of time. Is this a sprint or a marathon? How can I tell the difference?
Sometimes you can’t. But we seem to almost always be under the pressure of time. Most decisions feel like sprinting is needed. Do we really have time to ponder this some more? Deadlines don’t help. And our lives are filled with them.
“What is taking us OUT of reality?” That’s a question one mental health professional asks. I thought it sounded quite smart at first, but after about 15 seconds I began to question, “How do I know I’m being taken out of reality?”
Contextually the doctor seemed to mean, “What is taking you out of what you know to be true?” He illustrated it like this. Suppose you’re telling yourself, “I can’t do this. I’ll never be able to do it.” Why are you saying that to yourself? Because you’ve not mastered it yet. Did you get everything you ever tried right on the first try? Well, how many things were you able to get right eventually? When a person answers those questions they may rightly conclude they don’t know why they’re telling themselves this negative thing. Truth is, they’ve rarely mastered something right off the bat, but they conclude they’ve mostly been able to succeed eventually. THAT’S the reality but that’s not what they’re now telling themselves.
The question – What is taking you out of reality? – wants the answer to why you’re telling yourself you can’t do THIS thing when reality has proven to you that you likely can. By stopping long enough to ask the question – and by walking through those reality checks – we can quickly figure out if our self-talk is based on any evidence or if it’s just the emotional frustrations of the moment.
Patience is a funny thing.
Like most kids I didn’t have much of it. Older people in my life would urge me not to “wish my life away.” Before I got my driver’s license I couldn’t wait. Or so I thought. Stuff like that. “Don’t wish your life away.” It didn’t feel like that’s what I was doing. From my perspective, I was just anxious for what was next.
Some of that has never left me. Some of it I’ve given up on knowing such a day may never come. Hope and dreams die along the way. When you’re a kid you feel like you’ve got a lot of time left, but you just can’t wait for it to get here. When you’re old you know you’ve got limited time left, but you rather hope the wait is long.
Being patient and being anxious – I suppose it happens within each of us simultaneously. I’m patiently anxious a lot these days! 😀
Hurry up and wait.
Life is like that. A lot.
In the tortoise and the hare, the hare is sprinting ahead, then resting. Waiting. Then sprinting some more. And resting some more. He’s overtaken by the tortoise during that last rest.
Of course, life isn’t necessarily a race. If it is, I don’t know what we’re racing. Or how we’d win. We live our lives. We live however long we live. If I could figure out what I was racing then I might better know how to run.
Racers win by arriving there first. Whatever defines the finish line – that’s where there is. If death is the finish line for this life (and it is), then I need there first…why? If something else gets there before me, what have I lost? See my point.
But we’re part of the human race. Does that mean we’re all racing each other? If so, then is the measurement time, money, stuff, experiences, accomplishments…or all of the above? Or none of the above? I haven’t a clue.
Except for one thing.
What’s our capacity? For anything and everything?
People focus on potential. Maybe it’s worthwhile, I’m not sure. I’m not able to quite get a handle on my own potential so I’m in no position to judge yours. And if one believes he’s able to “change the world” (a common goal I hear people actually say out loud), then is he responsible to change the world else not live up to his potential? Is it wrong of me to believe – even know with the highest degree of certainty – that I lack the capacity to change the world?
What’s taking me out of reality? Hey, I’m not the one claiming I can change the world. Ask that fella what’s taking HIM out of reality? He’s the deluded one I think. 😉
Critics would tell me I’m negative, but I don’t think so. I just wonder what’s possible. And I’m always going to think it can be better. It doesn’t mean I’m dissatisfied necessarily, but it doesn’t mean I never think we’ve arrived. “Yep, that’s it. Nailed it!” I’ll never feel that way. About anything. Which brings me to the truth of potential. It’s fictional. Nobody will ever achieve it. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth chasing. Just means you’ll never arrive.
I dropped out of college with something less than 18 hours needed to graduate. Did I live up to my potential? Hardly. I left a boatload of potential on State Street near the front gates to LSU. Did I think of how that decision would play out? Not really. I just did it because I was making plenty of money selling stereo gear and my wife and I wanted to get closer to Dallas/Ft. Worth where she was from. Some of you won’t understand this, but a big driver was spiritual. Church-wise we determined it was time to leave. So we did.
Do I wish I’d finished those last hours? Kinda. Sorta. But it would have required another year (mostly) and my patience was done. I was more anxious than patient. Besides, I left thinking I’d finish my degree elsewhere. That was the plan. At least in my head. It just never happened.
Careers happen. Maybe most people architect theirs. I didn’t. Mine absolutely just happened. One thing led to another. And before you knew it I had a family. Along the way, I learned the sprints toward greatness were really short. The marathons of failure seemed to never end.
In the beginning, it was especially arduous. We struggled. I struggled. But we made it. Thanks to God’s blessings, hard work, lots of suffering and our collective inability to do anything different than fight every day.
Today it feels like I sprinted to something that may not have been worthwhile. But how am I to know?
I would have been a cartoonist. A writer. A college professor. They all crossed my mind. Dropping out of college sorta killed that last one. 😉
But I never pursued any of them. Well, writing is something that’s been a lifelong habit. Doesn’t mean I’m good at it, or that I even know how to do it. Properly.
I’ve been paid a total of $100 for being a writer. That was for a hockey magazine back when I was coaching. It’s $100 more than I ever earned teaching college or drawing cartoons. So there’s that.
My life has been spent in business. And there are parts of it I love. And parts I hate. But I wasn’t sprinting toward or away from it. I was plodding tortoise-like through it. Mostly interested in human behavior. Interested in employees and customers alike. Watching how they acted and reacted. Fascinated by shopper behavior since I was a kid. Fascinated by people, but not too much so. Not enough to want to get too close to too many. Rather preferring to get close to a select few – of my own choosing – and steering a comfortable distance away from the rest.
Time goes fast. Then it picks up speed.
Life goes slow until it goes fast.
Today I’ve got perspective. I know more than I once did. A lot more. And not just the stuff I know I don’t know. The stuff I honestly do know. For sure!
What’s Next?
Life is mostly a sprint to what’s next.
When the kids were little it was the family battle cry. “Now what?” Or, “What’ll we do now?”
It was an incessant question asked as we pulled out of the parking lot of Six Flags after an 8-hour exhaustive prowling through the park.
It was asked as we got in the car after a 4-day stay somewhere.
It was asked after leaving a ball game, hockey game or some other such night out.
“What are we gonna do now?”
“Now we’re going to go home and sleep!” That seemed my always unpopular reply. Like the hare, I was sprinted out and ready to rest.
Tortoise life isn’t real. For anybody, I know.
Slow and steady may win the race, but nobody I know is poised to break the tape at the finish line. We don’t call it a RAT RACE for nothing. All the rats I know are running like crazy toward who knows what? Many of them haven’t a clue. I’ve rarely had a clue myself. It just seemed like running faster was required.
Some years later, as the kids grew older, I realized we’re not running toward anything. We’re running away from. Now we’re getting somewhere, I remember thinking.
Sprinters like Usain Bolt are masterful. Artful. Remarkable.
Crooks running from the cops are anything but. Clumsy. Awkward. Stupid. Yes, I can relate to them. These are my people. Not in their criminal endeavors, but in their ability to flee or sprint.
Some are. Some aren’t.
Some do. Some don’t.
Taking a line from a Steve Martin bit that came out while I was in college I had a t-shirt made that said on the front, “Some people have a way with words…” The back said, “Others…not have way.” Remember, I was in journalism school. It was especially topical at the time.
Well, in this race of life I certainly have spent WAY MORE TIME feeling like the person who “not have way.” It has long seemed like others had the way. But not me.
Businesses love to project hockey stick growth. That is, it starts off with a slight upward trajectory, but then it goes up sharply…taking off…going almost straight up. Such sales growth is ideal. We think. Not terribly realistic for most businesses though.
Instead, many businesses have growth that looks more like a snake run over by cars on the highway. And that’s if things are going well. FLAT.
The worst-case scenario is the snake gets pounded into a gravel road. Dead as Ned.
Life is like that, too.
All these high achievers and their hockey stick growth. Careers that go straight up. And keep going higher and higher. People who go from one great thing to something even greater. No slumps. No downturns. Just upward trajectory with no end in sight. As we stand there gazing upward in amazement at their prowess. Sprinting from one remarkable achievement to another and another. Experiencing orbits that just seem to higher than we can imagine.
On rare occasions, I take off my rose-colored glasses – okay, they’re not so rose-colored as they are green – and I look a bit more closely at one of these high orbit rotating achievers. And something weird appears. A dent in the armor of their superiority.
A psychiatrist with tons to say about living a good life, improving your brain and most anything else to do with reaching your ideal self…I see a picture of him with his wife. Wait a minute! She’s easily half his age. I dig a bit into his life. She’s wife #3. Well, there you have it. His hockey stick life has involved a few hockey fights that have knocked out a few teeth. That’s a bridge in his mouth. Those aren’t his real teeth. But you never know if you don’t look too close. Most don’t. Or care.
I suddenly feel a bit better. About myself. Him, too. He’s human. Okay, good for him that he went younger at the wife position. I’m assuming #1 and #2 got some money out the deal, but what do I know. Or care.
We all pick our nose. Sometimes.
So much for you or me being our ideal self. Or reaching our full potential. Any more I’m happy to reach the next rest area.
And there it is. The lead I always bury.
Life is a sprint and a marathon. We’re all short sprinting the same marathon. The race is to the next rest area. We’re not racing each other. We’re just trying like crazy to sprint to the next rest stop so we can stop sprinting. For awhile.
Life is about sprinting so we can stop sprinting. String enough sprints together and eventually we’ll find ourselves at the last rest stop. And then, finally, at long last. The sprinting will end!
I’m just $80 away from the goal. Thanks to everybody who has made a financial contribution.
I’m still mostly wanting your stories of a time when somebody encouraged you in a meaningful way. You’ve seen and heard a theme in the recent shows because encouragement is an expression of belief. So I’m collecting stories of those expressions that others made in you. Why? Because it’s so rare yet so commonly craved by 100% of us.
It speaks to perhaps an even greater tragedy – loneliness. People craving encouragement – that’s all of us – likely also crave connection. Sometimes it eludes us. Sometimes we don’t know how to foster it, attract it or even reciprocate it. The human condition is often helped by other humans. There’s the irony of loneliness. And craving encouragement.
Do you want to participate? It doesn’t require any money.
Let’s pick up where we left off last week thinking about our imagination instead of our past. But first, a word about thanksgiving.
Grace and gratitude.
A few weeks ago a social media guru released a statement.
Don’t let your friends change your mind.
People quickly came to shout, “Hooray!” Okay, they didn’t shout that, but there was loud approval.
Like many memes and quips I thought about it and instantly thought, “Well, it depends on your present state of mind.”
If your friend were suicidal I’d hope you’d try to change their mind.
If your friend was tempted to cheat on her spouse I’d hope you’d try to change her mind.
If your friend was intoxicated and about to get behind the wheel of his car I’d hope you’d try to change his mind.
If you’re in a funk do you not want your friends to try to help you out of it?
If you’re discouraged don’t you want your friends attempting to encourage you?
Things that sound smart, but are really stupid.
We’re surrounded by meme-based wisdom.
“Don’t overthink it.”
“Stop and think about it.”
Question: How can you think just right?
That’s part of the power of being thankful. It’s always appropriate. It’s always right. It never fails. You can’t say that about too many things. I mean to even use dramatic terms like “always” and “never” is remarkable. But it applies to being thankful.
It’s ironic to me that the things we associate with grace – at least the things I associate with grace – fit that bill more than anything else I know. Yet, we’re so reluctant to practice them.
Seems that if something was ALWAYS beneficial to us, and something that would NEVER fail us — that we’d lean in as heavily into that as possible. Instead, we shy away from it or worse. We steadfastly declare we won’t do it.
Grace things.
Like being thankful.
Like forgiveness.
Like compassion.
Find a time or place where their practice won’t help you. You can’t. Which is why grace is so foundational to leaning toward wisdom. The benefits are just too vast and deep to ignore.
I know the secrets. At least 3 of them.
Stop thinking about what you don’t have and think about what you do have.
Stop thinking about your lack and think about your abundance.
Stop thinking you’re a victim and instead see yourself as blessed.
But the key is – you have to want to do this. Until you want to live with grace you’ll never be able to. The second you decide you want to, you can. Instant power!
This is the beginning of spending more time in the place where you want to be. And we’re assuming that where you want to be is good for both you and those who love you. That’s not always the case.
Some people want what they want and if they hurt themselves and harm others – well, what’s that to you? Those people are the biggest fools. Selfishness, lack of temperance (self-control) and lives filled with destructive behaviors aimed at sin, self and immorality are wasted lives. They contribute nothing to themselves or the world. Instead, they wreck whatever is in their path contributing to the collective foolishness the rest of us are battling hard to conquer. In one fell swoop, they’re the enemy undoing all the good the rest of us may be attempting to establish. Yet they feel like the oppressed. Too stupid to know they’re the oppressors. But they see it how they see it and until events open their eyes, they’ll continue to be blinded by their own delusions fueled by their pride and ego.
We’ll never lack for them. They surround us. All the more reason for us to embrace the truths that can help us wage this battle – this war – against our own human foolishness. Because that’s what’s going to destroy us individually. And collectively. Our own foolishness.
All the more reason to rise early each morning dedicated to doing just one thing – conquer our own foolishness. Just today. Then we’ll get up and do it again tomorrow. And along the way, we’ll try to help somebody else conquer theirs. It’s not the least we can do. It’s the most we can do.
It begins with me. Stopping long enough to not think about what the world owes me. Or what injustices I’ve endured. But cataloging all the blessings placed under by stewardship.
It begins with me asking myself, “Am I a good, faithful steward?”
And it requires an honest, thoughtful answer. The Truth.
Grace is challenged – and all its components like gratitude, forgiveness, and compassion – by comparing ourselves to others. Fact is, others have zero impact or influence on our practice of grace. Except of course, we give them permission to control it on our behalf.
I might be more grateful except I see others who have it better than me. How can I be gracious when I see Instagram posts of people having fun, traveling to beautiful places and enjoying a life foreign to mine? My life sucks by comparison. So my lack of gratitude isn’t my fault. It’s their fault.
Never mind that intellectually I know there are millions of people who suffer present conditions far worse than mine. I don’t think of them. I don’t think of the people whose feet will never walk on hardwood, tiled or carpeted floors. People who will live their entire lives not knowing what it is to walk mere feet inside their house and turn on a faucet to have clean water. People who will live their entire lives not knowing what it is to live in a country ruled by peace. Forget about those people. Because I do.
Instead, I’m taking aim at those living better than me. Bigger, nicer houses. Newer, nicer cars. Trips. Eating at restaurants I can’t afford. Buying things I’ll never afford. Doing cool things I’ll never be able to do. Those people are the reason for my lack of grace. It’s not my fault.
Is this really where you’d like to spend your time? At this place? This is beneficial?
Why don’t we conscientiously figure out how to spend more time in better places?
I suspect it’s largely because we don’t know how. But mostly, I suspect it’s because accepting blame and responsibility for our lives is so painful. But only because we’re focused on the pain. Not the power.
Focus on the power. Not the pain.
This seems huge to me and I’m fascinated why we don’t see it more clearly. I’m really fascinated at the many times I don’t see it myself more clearly because I’m just like you – prone to my own foolishness.
When we look deeply enough inside ourselves and face our pain we feel the need to protect ourselves from it. That’s best done – so we foolishly think – in seeing others as the source of that pain. So we must protect ourselves from THEM. After all, they did this to us.
All along the way our power is diminished. Until it’s gone completely. And we’re left as roadkill on life’s highway. Powerless to do anything about it because the universe is so much bigger than us. No way we’ll ever win.
When the reality is the pain is mostly our fault. And if it’s not our fault, it’s 100% our responsibility. And there’s no need to protect ourselves from things beyond our control because we have plenty of work to do to protect ourselves from our own foolishness – best done by embracing goodness and committing ourselves to our own learning, understand and growth. In short, to become the best human beings we can!
That’s the path forward.
But that’s a lot of work. Much more work than blaming others. Never mind that it’s productive and profitable. FOR US!
That’s why we don’t do it. It’s too hard. We think.
Maybe.
Or maybe we just don’t know how because the collective culture is always working against us. Collective wisdom ain’t so wise. Never has been. Mob rule is a thing. And it’s never smart, wise, thoughtful or considerate. It’s herd mentality and it never fails to be colossally stupid, foolish and destructive. And mostly impulsive.
So Nike comes out with some sneaker that has Betsy Ross’ American flag on the heel. And Colin Kaepernick jumps on it as racist. And “thar she blows!” Social media ninnies from around the globe jump on it. Poor Betsy Ross. Poor Colin Kaepernick. Poor America. Poor us. All of us for being surrounded by such nonsense! But we always have been, always will be. Because the ninnies always have the numbers.
Which is an opportunity for us. You and me. An enormous opportunity!
To escape the herd of ninnies driven by impulses not their own, driven to remain victims of Nike and every other company on the planet, driven to remain victims of a society that just won’t give them everything they want and feel entitled to…so much tyranny from which to escape. And plenty of time to do it because we can do it in an instant. A flash. One blinding moment of clarity where we determine to stop being victimized and simultaneously a moment where we accept responsibility for our own lives. Our own outcomes.
Because I don’t care what Colin Kaepernick thinks.
And I don’t care what Twitter says.
And because I don’t care what new shoes or watch you just bought.
Because it doesn’t affect me. Unless I let it. And I see no value in letting it.
Except I’m thankful to live in a country where Colin can say what he wants. I hate that people like him can rally herds of ninnies and contribute to the collective lunacy, but when you express gratitude to live in America – that’s what you embrace. People’s ability and choice to be the ninnies they would be. So I salute Colin’s Ninnie Army and all like them who choose to let others dictate their path and their life’s outcome.
I just don’t choose to follow. It’s not where I want to spend my time. It’s not the place where I want my present or future to reside. So I choose something else. Something over which I have control.
I’m thankful to be an American. I’ve never had to protect myself or my family from foreign invaders. Or from fellow countrymen. I’ve only heard bombs and the machinations of warfare on TV and in films.
I’ve never had to walk miles to fetch clean water for my family. Or had to devote myself to hours a day wondering how to feed them. Or how to find suitable sleeping quarters for the night.
I don’t know such a life. I’m sad for those whose lives are defined in such ways. But I’m thankful mine is not. Not in some “I’m better than you” kind of gratitude, but in amazement wondering why I’m so blessed while others aren’t? Some things you accept and leverage for the best of yourself and those around you. I accept such things about my life and give God thanks.
I did nothing to deserve it. But I’m responsible for what I do with it. I’m a steward. So are you.
“Why me?” isn’t a worthwhile question. Largely because there is no answer. And if there were, how could it possibly help us make a positive mark on the world?
Our lives are resources. Not the stuff. Or the circumstances. Resources comprised of our experiences, our thoughts, our actions, our choices, our words, our willingness to help others, our behaviors. Which of those do you want to declare don’t belong to you? Experiences? Really? You have no influence on what you experience? Think more deeply because those resources are within your power to deploy however you see fit.
There’s the power. You can look at it intently, staring it down like you might a buddy in a “no blink” contest. Or you can surrender all of your power opting to hug it out with Pain.
I’m not saying we can avoid all pain, suffering and heartache. I’m saying we can eliminate much of it, reduce a lot of it and better manage some of it by owning our lives. All of it.
The magic of the Ideal is that you never arrive. The Land Of Your Ideal is always ahead. Somewhere. Near or far. But the daily striving is what promotes lives better today than yesterday. If only marginally. Still better.
Small erosion over time reveals itself in mountains and streams.
Small investments over time reveal the power of compounding interest.
Small movements over time reveal the power of mastering music. Or art. Or communication. Or most anything else.
“Inch by inch it’s all a cinch.” And if not a cinch, then at least a higher probability. Guarantees of nothing more perhaps than that we can make today better. And tomorrow better still. And that’s a pretty powerful guarantee.
Time spent where we want to be versus time spent where we are. Or where we’ve been. That’s why we began this conversation last week. So much focus on the past. Worthless. Because we’re powerless to do anything about it other than learn from it. But we don’t often leverage it for that positive purpose. Instead, we opt to embrace regret and blame. Neither of which serve us with much more than resentment and bitterness.
I’ve looked but been unable to find anybody – or any group of somebodies – who cranked out a good life by incorporating more resentment and bitterness into their lives. Rather I’ve seen lots of people – enough to prove to me that it’s empirical evidence. Resentment and bitterness don’t pay. They cost. Enormously!
To what are you attached?
It’s one way you can look more deeply inside yourself and see yourself accurately. Soul searching. Looking more closely inside yourself reveals answers to many questions. Most notably, “Why?”
Lots of people wake up and go to bed daily questioning, “Why?” Why am I doing this? Why is this happening to me?
But they have no true answers. Only excuses.
Until they discover their attachments. Which could be anything.
Addiction. Abuse. Ego. Narcissism. Status. Stuff.
Your attachments help define your identity.
I know lots of business people who are very attached to their status symbols. Their cars. Their suits. Their houses. Their office. Their trips and vacations. Their dinner reservations. Their stuff.
Their prestige is locked inside these things. Deeply.
Remove them – it often happens due to the cycles of life that affect us all – or remove some of them, and you’ll see people struggle because they no longer know who they are. They thought they were one thing, but now they don’t know.
What’s important to you? What’s so important that it helps define you because you choose that?
You choose it. Every day.
We’re all attached to something. Or someone.
We get to decide what’s important. Default can be our setting. It probably is for most people. The precious few – the supreme achievers among us – create a more intentional, determined course. Some of us are working toward it. Trying to escape the gravitational pull of mediocrity and foolishness.
Making choices about our attachments is a daily grind. It can be disrupted instantly. Momentarily. And that can become our new norm if we allow it.
The guy who longs for a 7 series BMW finally gets one. But he’s been attached to such things the moment he decided to long for it. When he gets it, it’s not enough. And it won’t remain new, current and cool forever. Next year a newer model will replace it. His attachment will continue down the spiral toward more. And more. And more. But his soul will never be satisfied because the attachments are – at their core – quite insubstantial. Shallow.
But it can affect any of us. Shame. Embarrassment. Not measuring up to others. Again, because we’re busy comparing ourselves to others and it either makes us feel better about ourselves or worse about ourselves. Not because of us. But because of THEM.
The Power Of THEM
The proverbial “they” know everything. And often determine everything.
Mostly they distract us from ourselves. Prevent us from searching deeply enough to stare down our fears, doubts and insecurities.
Time with ourselves is power. And pain. Focus on the power knowing the pain is real.
Spending more time in the place where you want to be requires our willingness to spend more time in the place where we need to be. No matter how uncomfortable. No matter how painful. Because that’s where the power is – at least the power we possess to change our own lives.
Fear drives too many of us.
Mostly fear of what others say. How they’ll judge us. What they’ll think of us.
Because we really care what people think of us.
It’s scary. Because we mostly don’t care about these people, but we put big power in what they think of us.
It’s scary. Because we mostly can’t control what they think of us anyway because negative people – which is by and large the defining trait of most people – are going to judge. And harshly. Much of the time.
THEY don’t matter. Because your life isn’t their life.
Conquering your life is the game. Not conquering the life of somebody else. Not allowing others to conquer your life for you.
More time in the place where you want to be means you’re not there. Yet.
Great leaders see the future first.
Truth.
Are you a great leader of your life? The proof is found first in what and how you think, and then in what you do about it.
We love the comfort of excuses. Our brain craves it, seeks it and searches for it.
I know I do.
I don’t want to grind. I don’t want to sweat. I’d rather lounge. Do nothing.
But the problem is what it produces. Nothing.
Fancy and soft don’t work. In spite of our high cravings for them both.
The past is soft because it’s over. There’s nothing to do but dwell on it. So we do.
Imagination is hard. Discipline is, too.
Simplicity is hard. Complexity, not so much.
Conquering yourself is THE chore. Which is why these conversations are critical. Because they don’t require anybody else. The proverbial “they” don’t matter. Except to shut them out. So we can get to work figuring these things out for ourselves.
Where are you right now?
Your present doesn’t have to be awful. Fact is, it may be quite wonderful. It doesn’t matter. Whatever your reality is right now – that’s what matters.
Face it.
For what it truly is.
Does it really matter how you got here? Maybe. But not likely as much as we think. Because it fosters excuse making. And blaming. Instead of provoking us to examine the truth of how we got here…which could be highly valuable. An autopsy designed to show us what really happened. All so we can learn from it and understand it better so we can avoid replicating it. Growth.
I screwed up. I got it wrong.
I didn’t apply myself. I was lazy. Some things came easily. Until they stopped coming easily. College kicked my butt because I didn’t do the work. I hated it. Every lousy bit of it.
Until I entered the College of Journalism where my identity felt congruent with what I cared about. And everything changed. At least college-wise. I excelled. Because I loved it.
I was an introvert expected to behave like an extrovert. So I played the role. Until it exhausted me.
The depths of the struggle were real. They are real.
Fast forward to about a decade ago. My career isn’t over, but it has drastically changed. A failed attempt to purchase the company I was running left me fractured, if not broken. It was time to reinvent myself but I had no idea how. I did all I knew to do – dive inward.
The search inside was intuitive to me. I’ve lived long enough to know it’s not intuitive for everybody.
The chore has been longer, more arduous and fraught with more failure than I ever imagined. I didn’t think it’d last this long. I didn’t think more failure and sorrow would pile up. I now know I thought I was about as down as I’d ever get. Boy was I wrong!
That’s the thing about down. Or the bottom. There’s no welcome sign.
All the attachments that proved vain had to be faced. Identities that once seemed important proved empty. Life was flipped upside down at an age when most folks are thinking of winding down. I was having to find a way to wind it up.
The good news is, I wanted to wind it up. I didn’t want to wind it down. Admittedly, I was hoping to wind it up to a new height rather than to start over. But starting over is what was demanded. I had no options if I wanted to move forward. And I did want to move forward. But only after I overcame wanting to retreat and surrender.
It always takes longer than you think. Or hope.
When you’re older, like I was (and obviously still am), it’s very hard. It has been for me. Self-discovery is like history to the older. There are more years of debris to remove so you can find the Truth.
And I had a lifetime of inner strength – part of my DNA – to be reflective. Self-introspection came easily, naturally. Along the way, I discovered that forgiveness is one of my 2 character strengths. It’s always been easy to forgive. To ask for forgiveness. Equally difficult – almost impossible – to forgive me. I had no idea how powerful that opponent would be, but it kicked me, put me in a choke hold and refused to accept my tap out. I had to fight because my lack of self-forgiveness was going to kill me. I had to learn to fight.
I haven’t won it, but I’ve turned the tide more to my favor. It took a long, long time. Largely because life threw other haymakers at me that I wasn’t planning on. It happens.
I knew who I was. That was the mainstay.
I knew what I was.
The struggle was figuring out who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do. Visualization and imagination come easily. Always have. Getting them focused so they could best serve me…that’s not been easy.
Imagine.
It’s a verb. One I’ve relied on. One you need to rely on.
First, figure out where you want to be. You’ve thought about it. Not likely been courageous enough to head in that direction though. So commit to the destination. Nevermind that you’re not sure how you’ll get there. Nevermind that family and friends don’t think it’s possible for you. Nevermind that you’re alone in believing in yourself.
Does it really matter? Nope.
Only because you let it.
Your family and friends aren’t the calvary come to save you. Frequently they’re the bigger enemy telling you you’ll never be able to get where you want to go. It’s okay. They mean well. They’re just like the others who haven’t been able to do it so understand their lack of faith. It’s self-imposed and now they’re just doing what they know to do – apply it to your life. But they’re not you.
You can be a better human being. You can be a bigger human being. There is an ideal to which you can grow closer. It’s up to you.
Get really clear on where you want to be. Be detailed. Be precise. Write it out. Record it. Do whatever it takes to make the visual more complete. The imagery matters. You need to see it, touch it, feel it, taste it and experience it – in your imagination. First.
Now, go there. Like any other trip, set out. Start. It’s not important how long it takes you to get there – in your imagination. What matters is that you get there.
Stay there.
Don’t make it a quick trip. Make it an extended stay.
Because the longer you stay there in your imagination the faster you’ll arrive in reality. It’s not a bad plan to get there as fast as possible then stay there with no intention of leaving unless you discover some better place you’d like to go.
And you will. Over time there’ll be a new improved destination. But the habits and things you figured out to get to the last one will serve to make you more efficient at getting to the new ones. It’ll happen more easily. More quickly.
Along the way, you’ll become better – even good – with being uncomfortable. The suffering will spur you on to go further than you thought you could. The pain that once crippled you will seem inconsequential. In its place, new pain will emerge. Pain that will remind you how powerful you are to discover new strengths, new abilities, and new resolve.
If you’re super blessed, a few folks will serve to encourage you along the way. Most won’t. Often times those closest to you will believe the least. It’s okay. Don’t judge them for it. Ignore them for it.
They’re not driving your life. You are. Drive it to where you most want (and need) to go. Stop waiting.
She is Molly Tuttle and her newest record is When You’re Ready. On it there’s a song, “Make My Mind Up.” Prior to this album, she was very bluegrass-ey. She’s a talented guitarist and singer. And songwriter. This song formed a bit of an earworm when I first heard it. Click play on the YouTube video of it and you’re liable to not get it out of your head for a while.
As usual a lyric got my mind going. Rolling it over and over. “If I could ever make my mind up…”
You know I’ve been fascinated over the last few years about our brains. Particularly, how we change our minds. How we change our thinking. All that neuro-science voodoo that I’m struggling to understand.
It’s hard to beat a guy when he’s got his mind made up that he’s going to win. – Muhammad Ali
We consider it a quality of high character when a person has made up their mind. It denotes determination. Being settled. And that’s good.
Well, it can be. But it can also be dangerous when a mind is made up about something that’s wrong, untrue, destructive or damaging.
I have learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes fear; knowing what must be done does away with fear. – Rosa Parks
A made up mind can be powerfully positive, helping us advance toward honest, desirable goals that benefit us and others.
A mind made up can also be powerfully destructive, preventing us from listening, understanding and growing beyond some prejudiced assumption. Or preventing us from realizing the harm we’re bringing to ourselves and others.
On one hand, it can appear equal to tenacity, stick-to-it-iveness. Or it can appear to be self-serving stubbornness. And it’s possible for it to be either of those. Or many other shades of gray on the scale of good for us versus bad for us. We’ll call it the foolish versus wisdom scale given the title of this podcast.
It’s not just possible, but probable that sometimes our minds are made up toward foolishness. It’s not likely we see it that way, but maybe we’re not seeing it for what it is.
A scripture leaps to mind.
Ephesians 1:17-19 “that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give to you the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Him, the eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that you may know what is the hope of His calling, what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints, and what is the exceeding greatness of His power toward us who believe, according to the working of His mighty power…” New King James Version (NKJV)
All human beings have experienced having our understanding enlightened. The little kid who learns something for the first time. The teenager who learns to drive. The aspiring musician who learns to play an instrument. The first year attorney who learns to navigate the court systems. The first year chemist who learns how to operate in a commercial lab. Our lives are filled with firsts that serve to enlighten our understanding.
At my work-related podcast – Grow Great – I regularly use the acronym LUG. It stands for Learning, Understanding, Growing. It’s what I hope to inspire in every business person who listens to that podcast. I’m aspiring to do it. Not really difficult for a person who needs to learn as much I know I need to. 😉
Business people fixate sometimes on their blind spots, fretful about what they don’t know, or what they can’t see. Sadly, too few do much about it other than worry. I wish it was restricted to just business people, but it’s not. I suspect most of us roam the planet with self-imposed blinders on making sure we see things the way we prefer to see them. Nevermind that we may have it wrong. Or that other facts may enlighten our understanding. Some of us don’t want to be enlightened. We enjoy (even embrace) our biases.
A closed mind can serve as protection I suppose. Or a roadblock. Depending on how you look at it. When it’s our mind, it’s protection. Or wisdom. When it’s somebody else’s, it’s a roadblock. Foolishness.
Self-deception is such a killer!
A husband exhorts his wife, “Will you make up your mind?”
A wife chastizes her husband, “Just make up your mind already!”
We want decisive. Until it’s a decision that conflicts with our judgment. Or our opinion. Or our assumptions. Then, we’d prefer you to change your mind. Right away.
Self-awareness is such a gift. A blessing. A reward for the deep inner searching demanded in order to obtain it.
Late stage epiphany. That’s what it is.
The lateness is life. My life. Not that it’s too late. It’s just later than it’s ever been. Later perhaps than it should’ve been. But it is what it is.
The stage is also my life. This moment in time. This phase of my life.
Epiphany – it’s what I’m always in search of. I don’t often find one, but even a blind pig…every now and again. Thankfully I’ve had a few along the way. One of the very biggest happened on July 2, 1975. I was 18. She was, too. It was our first date and we’ve been together ever since. Who says teenagers can’t make wise choices? Or have an epiphany? But I was always wise for my age. Now my age has caught up to my wisdom. So there’s that.
I’ve not had many epiphanies since, but when you have one big life-changing one, then waiting a while for the next — well, it’s okay. And I’m patient.
For the past 3 years or so I’ve been immersing myself in books and articles about neuroscience. Mostly, I’m interested in how we can improve our thinking. But along the way I’ve become increasingly interested in how our wiring can be impacted – positively and negatively. Substances can play a major role – drugs (legal or otherwise) and alcohol. BIG PLAYERS! Because opioids have affected people I love I’ve become deeply curious about their impact. It’s beyond startling to me and I only have a very shallow understanding of it. But what I do know scares me a lot. Brain chemistry is a real thing and can be quite fragile, especially when subjected to external influences that should likely be more severely restricted (somehow).
People being people – we want to get away from pain and sadly, too many of us find that relief through drugs, alcohol and bad behavior (temporary fixes for problems we too often refuse to successfully address). I see the cycle afflict people. Behave foolishly and selfishly. Feel good in the moment. Then guilt and shame sets in sparking even more foolish and selfish behavior…all to chase some moment of not feeling awful about oneself. At some point the emptiness becomes real and the miserable human being knows nothing but an ongoing commitment to their own misery. Besides, it’s not their fault. Their family did it to them. Their friends. The world. Everybody and everything is to blame, but not them. So it goes when one loses their mind to wasting their life. I’m interested in how to prevent that and how to help it. Mostly, I’m interested in how we can lose our mind – whatever thinking is hindering our growth, improvement, and progress – and embrace new thinking so we can achieve more and improve our life. It’s about figuring out how we can more closely achieve our ideal self.
The past haunts us. All of us.
And it doesn’t have to be dreadful. Or excruciatingly painful. It can be quite ordinary. Ordinary lives are filled with pain, suffering, and heartache. Enough pain to haunt us all of our lives. If we let it.
Two choices present themselves. To all of us. Every single day. Every hour. Every minute.
We can embrace the past, accepting it as the very definition of who and what we are. All the scars can become our identity. A past we refuse to outrun.
Yes, it requires our permission, but that’s a tad too simple. Have you ever subscribed to something that has auto-renewal built into it? If you don’t remember to cancel it, they ding your credit card again. That’s how this permission works. It’s subtle. Deceptive even.
This choice centers on seeing ourselves as victims of our past. Whatever has happened to us is beyond our control. We were put upon by somebody or something. And it created an outcome we neither choose or desired. Now we’re stuck with the experience.
And it will most certainly impact our future because whatever visions we have of ourselves are based on our past. Our future story is going to be the same or similar to our past story. Once a victim, always a victim.
The other choice we could make – the more difficult one for many – is to see our past as temporary. Something or many somethings that happened to us, perhaps beyond our control, but it was temporary. That was then, this is now.
These 2 choices boil down to pessimism versus optimism. A fatalistic view of our past where we think the universe has conspired against us will work with extraordinary precision to have us create a future that’s congruent with that past. Losing becomes a habit.
A more temporary view of problems and setbacks – “it happens to everybody” – fosters resilience to see past the adversity to who we truly believe ourselves to be, a person fully capable of overcoming it. Perhaps we contributed to it, perhaps not. No matter. Live and learn. Figure out a way to leverage it to success. Or greater success.
These are learned. I don’t dispute that we’re all likely wired more toward one view or the other, but I rather think our early years have a major impact. Children learning to walk don’t fall down and assume that’s their permanent outcome. “Why can’t I walk? All the other little kids are able to.” Said no prospective toddler ever!
Falling is part of the process of learning how to get it right. They’re too young to know differently. We’re too old and too smart to know they’re idiots. 😉
We’ve learned too much. Outsmarted ourselves into victimization. Learned that those past experiences are destined to become our future, too. Why not? Look at the present. There’s no way our future is going to be any different.
What if we’re wrong?
What if our past has only the power we give it?
Last Sunday on CBS’ 60 Minutes there were three stories. The first featured a Mississippi attorney, Mike Moore, who beat big tobacco in a class action lawsuit decades ago. Today, he’s taking aim at the opioid epidemic including the manufacturers and the distributors responsible for what he calls the big “pill spill” in America. The second story was about Ben Ferencz, the 97-year-old who helped prosecute the Nazi war crimes in the famous trials of Nuremberg. The 3rd story was about wildlife photographer extraordinaire Thomas D. Mangelsen.
Three very different people. A class-action attorney. An international war crimes attorney. A wildlife photographer.
Three different passions. A man seeking to hold companies and people accountable for putting profits before people. A man seeking peace over war. A man seeking to chronicle, document and protect wildlife.
The youngest of them was 67. The oldest was pushing 100.
These men had devoted their lives to their cause pursuing these passions since they were young. None were taking aim at building personal wealth. All were still hotly chasing the thing they had been chasing most of their careers. As Mr. Ferencz said about his old personal passion and empathy about the people killed during the Holocaust, “I’m still churning.” It seems to me all three of these men are still churning.
The interesting thing is all of these very mature men are daily pursuing still. They’re proud of the accomplishments of the past, but each of them is moving forward attempting to daily conquer new challenges. The past is an important chapter – or chapters! But that was then, this is now. And they’re looking at the future.
Each man is accomplished. It’d be easy to sit back and say, “Look at what I’ve done.” I know we often focus on past failures and let that define our future failures. But it could work with success, too. Complacency would be easy for each of these guys. But they’re not dwelling on the past.
Question: If high achievers like these guys don’t use the past to define their present or future, then why should you? Especially if you’re thinking of past failures. If past success isn’t worth dwelling on too much, then should we dwell on past failures?
None of these men believed their past was permanent. While the stories focused on their successful accomplishments, I surmise none of them thought their past failures were permanent either.
Proof that the journey is the thing. The process matters.
We’re all writing books. The chapters matter, but they’re not the whole story. Past chapters brought us to where we are, but honestly – that’s what they are. Contributors to bring us to the present. Foundations to build whatever present and future we want.
When you live in a pro sports town like Dallas you’re exposed to constant media about the athletes in your town playing for the hometown teams and those players who oppose them. When big-name players retire you see and hear the emotion of reasonably young people (most are under 40) who now have to leave a sport they’ve played since they were little kids. Quite a few struggle to write new chapters to follow that. It’s understandable. Because their whole identity is wrapped up in being that athlete. If we had conversation bubbles above our heads like comic book characters theirs would say, “Now what?” They struggle to find and create a new identity. Those who go on to continue high achievement don’t let the past define their future. Many who struggle find themselves unable to outlive their past. It’s the peak of their life that they’ll never replicate. Or fear they’ll never replicate. And most are still in their 30s.
In the early 80s I read a story about Buzz Aldrin, one of the first astronauts to walk on the moon. He struggled with clinical depression and alcoholism afterward. Some speculated that Aldrin had always wanted to be an astronaut and making it to the moon was such a pinnacle…perhaps he struggled with, “Now what?” I don’t know, but I do know such a fantastic accomplish could derail any of us if we based our future on our past instead of our imagination. Aldrin’s imagination fueled his arrival to the moon. Just like it has fueled every child’s imagination to one day play their favorite sport professionally.
Futures are too often determined – or limited – by the past.
One decision.
Not to put pressure on ourselves, but to understand how powerful we can be. How we can impact our destiny. How our choices determine our outcomes.
Today it’s about just one decision. One very difficult, but helpful decision.
To not let the past – no matter how atrocious or terrific it’s been – define your future.
To instead embrace your imagination to define it.
Well, would that it were that easy. It’s not. It could be. But it’s not. If it were we’d all do it.
There’s a reason we don’t. Because we don’t believe it.
Our past has crippled our understanding. It has painted us in a corner. More accurately, we’ve put ourselves in the corner and surrounded ourselves by our past. Now we’re using it as a pattern – a template – for the present and future chapters of our life.
I own a piece of software for writers called Scrivener. Like other word processing software, including Word, it has a gallery. One for fiction, others for non-fiction, screenplays and so forth. These templates provide a pattern to follow for whatever the user may be writing. It’s designed to make it easier to craft that particular style of writing.
Our brains work like that. Well, they can. It can serve us. Things like pattern recognition help us see things more clearly. And understand them more deeply.
Simultaneously they can stick us causing us to reject other viewpoints. Or blinding us to notice things outside the known template. When I’m using the fiction template for Scrivener I’m not even able to see the non-fiction template. That’s the benefit (or downside). It can keep you focused. By limiting options.
It’s super effective. That limiting power is what can hinder our efforts to create a more positive future.
Instead, what we should do is limit the power of our past instead of allowing our past to limit us.
This is why it’s difficult for people to make quantum leaps. It’s just too easy for us to get stuck where we are. Or where we’ve been. It’s familiar. Perhaps habitual. Maybe even comfortable. Known.
Sometimes for grins and conversation, I’ll ask people if they have a number. A number that represents their ideal income. It sparks insightful conversation.
It’s quite curious the specific numbers people mention. And why they narrow down to a precise number.
No matter what number people mention I’ll ask, “Why that number? What will that number do that another number won’t?”
Those conversations reveal what people think is possible even if they aspire to a number that may be well beyond any amount they’ve ever earned. Truth is, most people don’t name some fantasical number. Mostly, people name a number that is quite reasonable even if they’ve never achieved it. I suppose most of us are more comfortable being reasonable and just stretching ever so slightly.
That’s why the person who earns $50K a year lists $60K a year is their number. Or the person earning $70K might say $90K is their number.
There’s nothing empirical about it. It’s just some random conversation, but it still intrigues me. Grandiose people can list some gigantic number, but dig a bit deeper and they’ll almost always admit it’s just a dream number. A fascination with the notion of winning the lottery or something.
July 1st is known by some as Bobby Bonilla Day because of the retired baseball player’s contract that pays him over $1 million a year through 2035 even though he hasn’t played for almost 20 years. We can all imagine what that could be like, but only those who earn that amount or close to it annually can really imagine it. So we could flippantly say our number is $1 million a year. But could we conceive of it? Really? Well, of course not. It’s unknown to us.
The bigger issue is – can we imagine it deeply enough to consider that our lives have been filled with firsts. Things we’ve never done before. We learned to walk, talk, read, write, do math and a host of other things that we had never ever done before. But we figured it out. Largely because we assumed we could. Never mind that it was unchartered territory for us. We likely took those things for granted – that in time we’d get it right.
Can you get your imagination wrapped around taking it for granted that you can achieve something you’ve never achieved before?
Naivate may be critical. Positive naivate.
Life taught us to stop being naive. As kids, we didn’t know better. Our minds weren’t limited by anything. Our imaginations fueled all kinds of adventures and excitement. We built forts in the woods. We built rafts to float in the nearby lake. We build carts to roll down that big hill at the end of the street. We built treehouses so we could be up high. All because our lives weren’t filled with what we couldn’t do, but rather with what might be possible.
Summer days were filled with grand possibilities. We’d sit around laying flat on our backs looking up at the clouds pass by asking each other, “What if we _________?” And we’d dream of doing something. If enough of us agreed, we’d give it a go. More often than not we’d do it. It may not have always turned out to the prettiest thing ever built, but no matter…we did it. Something we’d never done before. We tried. So what if that raft didn’t float? We didn’t care. Dreaming of it and building it was the fun. Getting it to the water, too. Pushing it into the water only to see it sink quicker than anything else we’d ever pushed into the water…well, that was just a bonus! 😀
Sometimes we’d go back to the drawing board. Mostly, we moved on and went in a completely different direction. The past didn’t matter. It was another story we could tell. “Remember when we built that raft?” Nobody was keeping score of our wins or losses. We were all keeping score of our adventures. It was our life. As kids. An adventure.
Then we grew up. Life beat the adventure out of us. And made sure we focused on our failures by keeping score. And rubbing our noses in it. Instead of remembering the adventure – life taught us to, “Remember when you tried that last and it failed? You don’t want to experience that again, do you?” So we cautiously answer, “Oh, no. You’re right. I’d best not try that again. Better to just stay right here where it’s safe.”
We grew increasingly afraid. Fearful to even try.
Fearful to imagine.
Fearful to even consider what earning an extra $10K a year might be like.
Fearful to even think of aiming for that job that our head is telling us we’ll never get.
Fearful to consider that the song we wrote might be made fun of if we dare post it online anywhere.
Fearful to think that the limits of our life are self-imposed.
Because it’s easier to think it’s not our fault. Which means it’s not our responsibility. Which means we’re not accountable for why things turn out as they do.
Life did this to us. We’re merely passengers riding along to the driving of something else. Something else. All of us aimlessly directed by forces beyond our control. Destined to be lucky or unlucky. Blessed or not blessed.
Really?
Is that really what we think?
We must. Because that’s how many of us live. Like puppets unable to decide what must be decided. Or do what must be done. Yet powerful enough to decide to do nothing, venture nothing, gain nothing and make sure we ride out our days as victims of a fate we didn’t choose.
All the while, blind that we did choose it. It was completely our choice. We picked it, committed to it and made it so. Then were unhappy with the outcome. All because we refused to more clearly see how the real world works. All because we decided it was easier, safer or whatever else…to think something wasn’t possible. The improbable grew into impossible. Over time our imaginations shrunk. Then they shriveled. Then they died.
Along with it. Our future. And our present.
Imprisoned by our past. And our foolish notion that the last chapter, or that chapter a few chapters ago most accurately defined our entire life. Never giving due consideration to the truth that it wasn’t a chapter at all, but rather a sentence. A paragraph. Maybe a page. Not a chapter. Certainly not the whole story.
Years roll by and we repeat it then happily recite with confidence, pointing to our failures or limitations, “See, I told you so.”
Confidence. Few things impress me more these days when it comes to the elements we need to move forward. Confidence.
Not bravado. Not ego. Not selfishness. Not self-righteousness. Not a feeling of superiority. Not harsh judgment.
Confidence.
The kind of confidence a pack of kids once had to think we could build a fort in the woods that would be a cool place to hang out. And we did it.
The kind of confidence a bunch of kids once had to think we go play football in the vacant lot and have fun. So we did.
The kind of confidence we once had to know that if we were going to have fun, then it was up to us to create us because our parents weren’t going to do it for us.
The kind of confidence born of boredom and imagination.
So we became whatever we dreamt we could become. And built whatever we dreamed could be built. Nobody was going to stop us. Nobody tried. If they did, I don’t remember. I couldn’t hear them.
The title is a lyric from the newest Jamestown Revival record, San Isabel. The song is, “This Too Shall Pass.”
For those of you interested – and some of you are – here’s some music I’m listening to at the moment…in addition to this new Jamestown Revival record.
The Hunts – Darlin’ Oh Darlin’ (2018)
The Hollering Pines – Long Nights, Short Lives and Spilled Chances (2013)
The Bones of J.R. Jones – The Bones of J.R. Jones (2019) – he is Jonathon Robert Linaberry but performs as The Bones of J.R. Jones (he’s a solo artist)
Rickie Lee Jones – Kicks (2019)
American Aquarium – Wolves (2015)
Kylie Rae Harris – Kylie Rae Harris EP (2019)
And of course, I’m listening to the usual suspects as well. Mandolin Orange is still aways a big player. Anderson East, Jade Bird, James Morrison and Josh Ritter. There’s so much good music.
Music and solitude go hand in hand for me. And writing. Sometimes drawing, which more closely resembles doodling these days.
All this listening to music violates the true meaning of solitude – which is defined by psychology in a way not quite to my liking.
Solitude is the state of being alone without being lonely.
The authors of a book, Lead Yourself First, give a more detailed definition that I rather like.
Solitude is a state of mind, a space where you can focus on your own thoughts without distraction, with a power to bring mind and soul together in clear-eyed conviction.
Simply put, it’s freedom from distraction. Technically listening to music violates the definition I suppose. But I count it anyway. Lyrics and melodies provoke thoughts, but I consider that a positive distraction. It feeds my solitude. It’s part of rest, restoration and rejuvenation.
A Coat Of Armor
We all have one. Because we all need one. Every now and again.
Truthfully, I think we need one more often than not. Sorta like being fully clothed. We spend most of our time being fully clothed. Okay, I won’t get into a modesty debate just here, but you know what I mean. 😉
Not many people see me running around in my boxers and a t-shirt. It’s a select few.
So it is with exposing ourselves sans armor. It’s just not safe most of the time.
Armor is protection. You’re likely thinking of the armor worn by knights in medieval days. Or maybe you’re thinking of the body armor worn by today’s soldiers or law enforcement officers. Here in Texas, you could even be thinking of armadillos.
We need armor to protect against attacks. From people intending to harm us.
Armor can also signify resilience, our ability to protect ourselves against adversity. Circumstances. Events. People. Situations.
It’s not bad. It’s necessary. And part of how we all must live our lives.
Introversion Versus Extroversion
Of all the personality traits these seem the most talked about. They’re the biggest elephants in the room often used to describe ourselves or others.
I can only speak to my own introversion, which is part of my armor. Just like an extrovert deploys that quality as part of her armor.
My introversion appears quite frequently like extroversion. Somebody smarter than me will have to explain it. My way of looking at it is based on my internal energy. When my armor is weakened, I retreat. It’s one way I can refuel and attempt to fortify myself. Attempt being the operative word. 😉
I suspect extroverts do the opposite. When their armor is weakened, they likely seek the company of others in their effort to recharge and renew strength.
Such is the individual nature of our armor – whatever characteristics and qualities make up our armor are largely individual to us. While it’s true that we’re much more alike than not, it’s the subtle nuances of our personalities that make us US.
In medieval days a big part of the armor was the shield. You could judge a knight by his shield. It was a primary identifier. For whom is this knight fighting? Who and what does he represent?
Our armor, including whatever we use as a shield, does the same for us. Who we are and whom (or what) we serve is shown by the armor we bear.
Protecting Us From What?
I make no argument against our need to protect ourselves. Of course we need to. The question is, “From what?”
Hurt. Pain. Suffering. Embarrassment. Shame.
Love. Intimacy. Commitment.
Fears, both universal and individual, impact us unlike anything else. From paralysis to going off the deep end. Our fears propel us toward foolishness and delusion and they put our feet in cement simultaneously.
Wrangling fear is hard work. Worthwhile, but hard.
When we’re able to harness appropriate fear it can catapult us toward wisdom. When we don’t – or can’t – it shoves us down the whitewater rapids of foolishness.
But there’s all that inappropriate or inaccurate fear. Our false fears. Our false assumptions. Our beliefs or disbelief. Mostly about ourselves and what’s possible.
Anxiety, too. It’s often as formidable a foe as fear. For some, more so.
a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome
Anxiety is a glory hog. Loves to get all the press. Anxiety is the Kardashian of human emotions.
Protecting vital organs with body armor and one’s skull with a helmet is easier – and more effective – than whatever armor we can deploy to protect our minds (and synonymously, our hearts).
During the 1960s, the United States failed to engage in a “Hearts and Minds” campaign in Vietnam. In 1974 a famous documentary of that war bore the same title, “Hearts And Minds.” The notion is that it’s more effective to win over an opponent with intellectual and emotional appeal than to try to merely subdue them with physical or military strength. That didn’t happen in Vietnam. Brute force didn’t work and the war was a catastrophic failure.
What about your heart and mind? How might you protect them from your own devices or the devices of others?
And when your armor gets tired and is wearing thin, can you fortify it? Or does it just fail never to be returned to a more effective protective state?
Here’s the thing about heart and mind protection. The question is the answer.
Our best – in fact, our only – armor or protection is our heart and mind. There is simply no other protection available. What we think and what we feel are everything!
Spiritually and morally I was always encouraged to “guard your heart.” I knew it meant to lean on my Faith and the Truth of God’s Word to protect myself from the various temptations and behaviors that might rob my faith.
Phil. 4:7 “And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall guard your hearts and your thoughts in Christ Jesus.”
Chael Sonnen is an MMA commentator who tells the story of how boxing and mixed martial artist bouts began to use the pre-fight instruction, “Protect yourself at all times.”
Our coat of armor is dependant on us. Period. We’re responsible to protect ourselves at all times. It doesn’t matter if we hear a bell or not. It doesn’t matter if the opponent stops swinging at us, or if the opponent is momentarily out of sight. Protect yourself at all times.
Because if you don’t – you’re liable to get knocked out.
A coat of armor can become fatigued resulting in…well, less protection. It makes us susceptible to blows even if we are trying to protect ourselves at all times. And forget about trying harder. What does that even mean? How do you do it?
A wiser strategy is to shore up the armor’s weak spots. Or maybe better yet…to ditch the old armor and to get new.
Let’s talk a bit about armor. What does our protection look like? What exactly is it? Until we know that, how can we know how to shore it up or replace it?
There’s lots of empty advice out there. Things like, “Don’t allow someone to affect your moods, thoughts, preferences, opinions, or plans.” That’s an actual quote from a respected psychology site. Great advice…if you know how to do it. Empty advice for the millions of us who have no idea.
Before you think I’m here to offer some wisdom previously unknown…hold your horses. I’m not that smart, wise or creative. I am thoughtful, mindful and compassionate though. This is insanely difficult work and therapists worldwide have calendars filled with people seeking professional help to figure it out for themselves.
Nothing is more complex than our mind.
Nothing is more powerful to help us than our own mind.
Nothing is more powerful to destroy us than our own mind.
Nothing is more difficult to manage or control than our mind.
So should we just throw up our hands (and our breakfast) and start waving the white flag of surrender? Hardly.
We should assume the aggressive, yet protective stance of a ninja warrior. Or whatever comic book hero you most admire, if that’s your thing. I’ll envision myself as one of the knights of the roundtable in King Arthur’s court. Not the dark knight of Monty Python’s Quest For the Holy Grail…although you must admire his tenacity in the face of brutal defeat!
Perhaps that depiction is too aggressive. Is it too offensive and not defensive enough to suit you? Maybe. But perhaps there’s some truth that can help us.
We think of armor or protection as defensive. And it is. But for what end?
Do we protect ourselves to simply survive or so we can fight back successfully? Are we trying to win or merely withstand the attack?
That depends on who you are and how you choose to live. Some are willing to endure and withstand. They feel victorious by weathering the storm. Forget counter-punching. Like a turtle going inside the shell, they just want to hide until the attack is over.
That’d be an effective strategy if we just had to endure one attack. Or one attack every now and again. But life isn’t quite so kind. Attacks continue. Mostly they’re ongoing.
We must fight back. Or be killed. Metaphorically, of course. Or perhaps actually – realistically. Some attacks can kill us. Illness, injury, abuse. It’s the ugly, deadly side of attacks and attackers. They come from EVERYWHERE.
Physical. Mental. Emotional.
Back to our armor and its purpose.
I think of it in three stages, even though it’s really a two-step process where step one becomes step 3. Think of it as a two-step cycle.
The podcast title is Leaning TOWARD Wisdom so it implies forward progress toward wisdom. That means if we don’t advance, then we’re not progressing.
Step One: Endurance / Survival
You’ve got to live long enough. It’s the first priority.
You don’t know when you’ll be attacked. Not always. Nor do you always know what or who will attack. Which means you have to always be prepared. But for what?
To sustain an attack. Of any kind. For any endurance. Of any intensity.
Doesn’t mean you’ll survive, but you can prepare to give yourself improved odds. When I was coaching some hockey I intently focused teams on making sure we accomplished one thing: be tough to play against. Translation: make it really hard on the opponent. That’s what we must do to guard ourselves against all adversity.
Too often we wilt under light pressure. That gives us no chance to thrive. Nature illustrates it. Seeds endure a form of death before they sprout bigger and grander creations. Creatures large and small struggle to be born so life can begin a long journey of resistance against threats on life.
Logically we all understand the value of overcoming adversity. The magic isn’t the adversity. The magic is our growth as we figure out how to endure it and overcome it. From our struggles emerges our strength. A strength we could never build or increase without the pressure of challenge. The attacks of life make us strong enough to move forward and become more than we would have otherwise.
Part of the game – this whole living game – is to stay alive long enough to figure it out. Long enough to become stronger.
Tired doesn’t mean weak. Weariness isn’t equal to defeat.
Gyms all over the world are filled with strong, fit people striving to get more so. And filled with folks who are not so fit and not so strong striving to improve. The process isn’t laugh-out-loud fun. It’s often dreary and dreaded. People do it to get the results: firmer bodies, stronger muscles, lower body fat. In a word, fit. To become more fit.
Fit for what? Well, that depends.
Fit for clothes. Fit for a love connection. Fit for health improvements. All of the above. People have their reasons. Just like we all have our reasons for wanting to endure and survive. We don’t want to live to fight another day. We want to live to fight today. And tomorrow. And the day after that.
When the bullets start flying we want to avoid being hurt. Walking away tired, exhausted, but unhurt is ideal. When my kids were teens I’d constantly encourage them to be safe. Repeatedly I told them I knew they’d make mistakes. I just didn’t want them to make a mistake from which they couldn’t recover. So it goes with our self-protection. If our adversity wrecks us completely – killing us – then the game is over. Happens all the time to millions of people who can’t figure out how to endure the challenges of the day. So they quit. Give up. Resign that success will never happen for them. It’s why failure is so prominent.
We want our adversity to be…well, not so adverse. Our preference would be to walk away unscathed. Not even winded.
But that’s not profitable. We learn nothing from it. Our mental, emotional and psychological muscles grow no stronger.
We need adversity. We just need to handle it so we’re not permanent injured or killed by it. And we need to endure it long enough so we can rest and recover.
Not all fights are the same. Some are fast and over with in a hurry. Others linger on…and on…and on. Some feel like we’re battling thousands and others feel like we’re up against a lone sniper. Some are up close like a knife fight. Others are more long-distance like a drone attack. None of them are comfortable. All of them are threatening.
Be tough to compete against. Just refuse to stop. Don’t quit. I’m not sure much else matters. All those fighting details. Tactics. Strategies. Do they matter? Well, of course. It’d be dishonest to say they don’t matter at all. The question I have is, “Do they make a difference between winning and losing?”
I’m not sure they do. Truly. I’m not.
Rather, I think a person’s hardheadedness (resolve) is the real power of endurance. Navy Seal training involves a very simple device. Ten percent of the training candidates (there are 200 at the beginning) graduate. The rest accept an invitation available to all 200 from the beginning. The invitation to just walk over to a bell and ring it. Ringing the bell signifies quitting. Equivalent to tapping out. Saying, “I’m done.”
The men who would be Seals aren’t men who quit. That’s precisely the point of the training. To find out who refuses to quit. Every candidate is already a talented sailor likely capable of learning whatever needs to be learned. What the Navy doesn’t know is how resilient and hardheaded the sailors are. Which is why the training is critical. Who among the 200 refuses to ring the bell no matter what? The training provides the answer.
Adversity in life does the same thing except we have no bell to ring to tell life, “Okay, stop. I’ve had enough.” Life just keeps on whether you quit or not.
Wait a minute, what?
You heard me. Life keeps on beating you no matter what.
So permit some logic. Why quit? It won’t spare you anything. It won’t make the beatings stop. It just means you’ll stop fighting…getting weaker and weaker…and more injured along the way.
So what does this mean?
It means that adversity’s impact is limited or limitless. You get to decide.
Yes, people die. Sometimes it can’t be stopped. I know countless folks announce they’ve been diagnosed with some awful disease. Then just as quickly they announce how they’ll fight it. And beat it. And then they don’t. Brave speech is easy. Unreasonable brave speech even more so. Your physical life can be taken by some adversity. Maybe the best we can hope for under such dire circumstances is to manage as best we can how we exit. But that’s not even always possible. So we endure just as long as we can.
Thankfully, most adversity won’t eat us. It’ll just try to gum us to death.
Pain tolerance. Discomfort tolerance. It really boils down to not letting discomfort or pain discourage us. Our ability to live with it until we can find time to rest, recuperate and restore our energy.
Step Two: Advance / Push Forward
We need energy to succeed. The only way we get it is by enduring the adversity that makes our armor thin. That’s how we thicken the armor. Armor that shows the tiredness of being in battle has proven its ability to do the job. Human armor has an ability unavailable to a knight’s. It improves and is strengthened.
Armor that shows thinness and tiredness just means one thing. The armor needs rest, restoration and rejuvenation. It doesn’t mean the fight is over. Or that the armor is finished.
There’s the buried lead that I’m so known for in this podcast. When you’re feeling most discouraged, least resilient, unwilling or unable to fight any longer — it’s just a signal. A signal you should not – must not – ignore!
Rest.
Restore.
Recuperate.
Rejuvenate.
These are individual pursuits. And these are precisely the activities most successful people excel. And I’m not talking about wealthy…I’m talking about people who achieve what they most want to achieve. The achievers in life figure out how to best rest, restore, recuperate and rejuvenate so they can advance past the adversity.
Figuring out how to rest, restore, recuperate and rejuvenate is only half the battle. The other half is doing it.
I’ll pick on myself as an example.
Physical rest isn’t easy for me. My entire life has consisted of cat-napping. My circadian rhythm has been weirdly abnormal my entire life. I can’t remember a time when it wasn’t. When I was young I struggled to fall asleep. And to stay asleep. Now I don’t struggle to fall asleep, but staying asleep still evades me. You can almost set a stopwatch to 90 minutes. I’ll fall asleep and within 90 minutes, almost to the minute (regularly), I’m awake. Some nights, that’s it. Other nights, I get up for a few hours and repeat that 90-minute cycle.
Stress and adversity disrupt that even further. And I know – with absolute certainty – that I need to rest. I know when my armor is wearing thin. I notice it long before others do.
My goal is to find restoration before it shows. I don’t always do that and I don’t work nearly as diligently to mask it as I once did. These days I’ll confide in some people, “I’m struggling.” But knowing these things about myself isn’t tantamount to doing much about it.
Of course, it depends on the adversity, too. I joked with a friend the other day that my life decided to wait until I was older and already tired before deep adversity hit me the hardest. So it goes with many of us.
Growing older isn’t for the faint of heart. Old hearts get broken every bit as easily as young ones. Maybe more so. Sadly, there’s not nearly as much time to mend. Which makes our ability to rest and recover more urgent.
I’m back to solitude – that thing I mentioned at the top of the show. For me that’s critical. Remember, I’m introverted. Socializing drains me. Not intimate conversation with close friends. Not helping a person or a couple in a very private way. Those give me energy. But putting on a “hi, how are you?” face at some gathering is the biggest beating I can endure – often far worse than the adversity itself. For me, historically, the challenge has been managing the expectation, especially of judgmental people.
To better manage that I made up my mind a few years ago to not care. I never did care much, but I cared enough that I’d do what was expected – mostly because it was important to mask the thinness of my armor. Over time I figured it just didn’t matter. It certainly didn’t matter to mask it more than it did to shore it up. I mean, logically it made no sense to me. Mask the thinness of your armor and grind it down even further doing something that drains what little energy I’ve got left…OR…forget masking it and get on with rejuvenating it so you can recover. I opted mostly (not always) for the latter.
I still find myself surrendering to impositions that I’d rather avoid. Playing nice. Which is quite easy because neglecting my armor is very easy. Stupid. Foolish. And wrong. But easy.
I’m much more prone to help you with yours. All the while telling you that mine is fine, even though it’s not. These are proofs how our strengths become our weaknesses. My energy levels go higher helping people with their armor. My energy levels go down imposing on others to help me with my own.
It’s hypocrisy of sorts I know. But it is what it is.
Know yourself. It’s the first chore of the rest and recovery step.
Act on it. Post haste. That’s the next chore. The toughest one for me personally. But I’m working on it. Mostly, I do what’s easy. I retreat. Solitude is easy and comfortable for me. Music, writing – these are the two common tools that have been part of my solitude my entire life. Until the Internet was born the writing was only in journals to myself. Well, the only other exception was about 3 years of daily letter writing to Rhonda when we were dating and living 11 hours (by car) apart.
My father has always remarked how he could sit and think of NOTHING. I envy that skill. I don’t have it. So I have to focus on channeling what I’m thinking about. Solitude helps.
And Benadryl. 😉
Sometimes.
The point? Do what you have to do to get your armor back into good, battle-ready condition. It’s too important to neglect. Self-preservation is not selfishness.
Step Three: Endurance / Survival
Now, it’s time to fight again because trouble jumped out from behind that tree and blind-sided you like Kato.
And the process begins all anew. But this time there’s a difference.
You’ve seen this move by adversity before. You experienced the pain and chokehold of this in the past. And you learned what you did poorly the last time. Not this time. This time you’re going to try a new maneuver. Maybe it’ll work. Maybe not.
Doesn’t matter really. You’ll figure it out.
The name of the game is to stay alive long enough to do that – figure it out. Then you’ll be able to rest once more.
You just have to be tenacious. Difficult to fight against. You want to be among the winners.
In simple terms, they’re the 10% who refuse to ring the bell. No matter what.
They just don’t give up.
It’s hard to beat a person that never gives up. -Babe Ruth
Truth is, you can’t beat a person that never gives up. And now you can think about that black knight in the Holy Grail. No matter that he couldn’t protect the bridge any longer. No matter that his legs were chopped off. And his arms. He was able to heckle King Arthur as he rode off to the sound of banging two coconuts together. 😀
Even in what seemed like sure defeat the black knight had the last laugh.
You will, too.
So when you’re feeling down and out jump and shout, “Hey, hey!”
Why not?
None of us are gettin’ out of here alive anyway. Let’s make it count. And have some fun at adversity’s expense.
