Category: Personal Growth

  • Doing If You Want To‘s

    “If you want to be a poet, write poetry. Every day. Show us your work.
    If you want to do improv, start a troupe. Don’t wait to get picked.
    If you want to help animals, don’t wait for vet school. Volunteer at an animal shelter right now.
    If you want to write a screenplay, write a screenplay.
    If you want to do marketing, find a good cause and spread the idea. Don’t ask first.
    If you’d like to be more strategic or human or caring at your job, don’t wait for the boss to ask.
    Once we leave out the “and” (as in, I want to do this and be well paid, invited, approved of and always successful) then it’s way easier to.”
    — Seth Godin, Are you doing what you said you wanted to do?

    Well, if you want to sing out, sing out
    And if you want to be free, be free
    ‘Cause there’s a million things to be
    You know that there are

    — Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam), If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out

    We complicate things with the stories we tell ourselves. We envision what a writer ought to look like, or an actor or leader or whatever we aspire to be. Instead of just slipping on the role for size and doing it. Just do it, as Nike famously coopted as their slogan. How many do just that? Don’t let it slip away, do some version of it now and grow into the rest.

    I write this blog fancying myself a writer. I wear plenty of other hats as well, so I try to write before the world wakes up and tells me I’m supposed to be something else now. Most of the time I give the world what it wants of me, but for a little time every day I simply write. If the posts are late in the day or seem a bit compressed and scattered, it’s usually a sign that I was running late, compressed and scattered myself. But I still put it out there as a humble statement that yes, I do in fact write.

    There’s a million things to be, you know that there are, but there’s usually a very short list of things you simply have to be to feel you’re on the right path. Doing those if you want to’s is the only way to feel like the world isn’t passing you by. Most of the universe barely recognizes that Seth Godin or Yusuf Islam put out similar statements, let alone me, but each of us knows that we showed up and shipped the work. We each grow into our identity with the things we do now. Sometimes that’s enough.

  • Changing Filters

    “From every pore or living cell of our bodies and from all our senses we are getting feedback from reality. But we are filtering things out constantly. Who’s doing the filtering? Our conditioning? Our culture? Our programming? The way we were taught to see things and to experience them? Even our language can be a filter. There is so much filtering going on that sometimes you won’t see things that are there.” —

    Having dinner with some bright people, Anthony De Mello came up. And I perked up. Not enough people reference De Mello, and I appreciate when someone does. To have read his book Awareness is to shake the tree of what we believe. To read it again and again to absorb what he is telling us is to change our filters. We see the world and our place in it differently.

    “You only change through awareness and understanding. When you see a stone as a stone and a scrap of paper as a scrap of paper, you don’t think that the stone is a precious diamond anymore and you don’t think that that scrap of paper is a check for a billion dollars. When you see that, you change.” — Anthony De Mello, Awareness

    The irony of De Mello coming up at all was the group I was with were highly-driven people in my career. They are all fueled by purpose and passion beyond making money, and sometimes you don’t see the truth right in front of you. It prompted me to re-read passages from Awareness again, to clear my filters.

    It helps to do regular maintenance on ourselves. What we believe is often just acquired filters. Changing these filters opens up a whole new perspective.

  • Existing Determinedly

    “The content of our truth depends upon our appropriating the historical foundation. Our own power of generation lies in the rebirth of what has been handed down to us. If we do not wish to slip back, nothing must be forgotten; but if philosophizing is to be genuine our thoughts must arise from our own source. Hence all appropriation of tradition proceeds from the intentness of our own life. The more determinedly I exist, as myself, within the conditions of the time, the more clearly I shall hear the language of the past, the nearer I shall feel the glow of its life.” — Karl Jaspers, Philosophy of Existence (Existenzphilosophie)

    This idea of reading and weaving the philosophical work of past greats into our own lives today is nothing new, yet so many only read new books. If these new books are inspired and drawn from the great thinkers of the past, then doesn’t it make sense to dive deeply into the source material? Put another way, if we are to be a part of the Great Conversation, we must first be conversationally competent. Seek first to understand, then to be understood, as Stephen Covey put it.

    Sitting at the dinner table with some highly intelligent people this evening, the conversation moved from business talk to philosophy, history and religion. Being able to keep pace with these folks doesn’t elevate me to a place of prominence, but it surely makes the evening more interesting than it otherwise might have been. It also makes me more inclined to speak up, and to be listened to by others. Of course, we don’t seek knowledge to be more interesting, but to dive deeper into our own development as human beings. What is the glow of life but feeling fully engaged in the moment? Of rising to meet it?

  • The Freedom of Inaction

    “Nature knows no pause in progress and development, and attaches her curse on all inaction.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

    “The human race is a monotonous affair. Most people spend the greatest part of their time working in order to live, and what little freedom remains so fills them with fear that they seek out any and every means to be rid of it.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

    The 28th of August is Goethe’s birthday, so I thought it fitting to reflect on two quotes that, on the face of it, seem to contradict each other. Quotes have a way of expressing what you want them to, without the depth and nuance of the longer work they’re drawn from. We live in a soundbites culture, after all, and the lede is all some people want to read. We know Goethe went far deeper, and owe it to ourselves to jump into the deep end ourselves, don’t we?

    On the one hand, we know it to be true that momentum is sustained by continuous action (Stephen Covey would have said pushing the flywheel), yet on the other know that rest is as essential to our long term wellbeing as action is(Covey’s sharpening the saw). They don’t contradict, they aggregate. As with everything else in life, balance is the key.

    As I close out the final miles of a walking challenge I made for myself this summer, I see the cumulative benefit of it in better fitness even as I feel the soreness from some long walks to close out the goal. We know when we ought to rest more, and ignore it at our peril. This is true in everything. Taking some time off from work last week, I anticipated long walks balanced by long stints on the beach diving into the stack of books I’d been collecting for the occasion. That beach time largely evaporated as I conceded time to projects that simply had to get done. The feeling of watching the week slip away with most of that stack of books unread was akin to feeling like you missed your flight as it departed the gate.

    The thing is, there’s freedom in inaction. Deliberate down time without distraction forces us to sort things out in both body and spirit, and clear the way for the next phase of action to follow. That compulsion to do more instead of embracing essential rest eventually catches up to us. I return from time off feeling there was unfinished business, unlike a few weeks ago when sailing, where plugging in or doing projects simply weren’t options. So it seems the key for relaxation is to eliminate any means to rid ourselves of the freedom of inaction. This shouldn’t be physically removing ourselves from task mania, but instead mentally doing so. Just say no to the task master inside.

    Happy Birthday Johann. I’ll try to relax a bit today in your honor. But there’s work to do before that. You know: no pause in progress and development, and all that.

  • All the Things

    This is the bright home
    in which I live,
    this is where
    I ask
    my friends
    to come,
    this is where I want
    to love all the things
    it has taken me so long
    to learn to love.
    — David Whyte, The House of Belonging

    The house is full more frequently now. Filled with pets and friends and memories. The nest is empty and yet it’s not, all at once. This is how we do things, you and I. The walls echo with memories of a house full of people who filled our hearts and danced with their moment in our lives. We built this house hoping for all that has transpired in the days that followed, and the days to come.

    Soon the leaves will fall again, blanketing the landscape indifferent to my pleas for relief. They’ve always reminded me in such times that they were here first, and most likely will be here when I’ve moved on again. The trees drew us to this plot of land, and root us to it, even as I grumble at them I know this to be true: they will carry on without me one day.

    The perennials come back every year, rising in the spring to look around at the world. Each year I’ve been here to greet them, as I do the hummingbirds and bees that know a reliable garden when they see it. Seasons come and go, and still we remain, doing our part to make this plot of land sing. Some things remain resilient, other things return to earth sooner than we’d want them to, and we remain to do with it all what we can. At least for now.

    Lately we’ve danced with the idea of beginning again in a smaller place, leaving this place for others to build their own lives. We both like round numbers and feel we might pull off three decades in this home, just as we said we would when we built it for the baby we knew and the one on the way who would only know this house as her home. She reminds us of this still, far from home but still everywhere within it. They’ve both left their mark here, as their parents have. As the circle of family and friends and pets have. We’ve met the years with love and purpose.

    We’ve seen what decline looks like, in loved ones old and young alike. None of us were born without an expiration date. These are days to remember, and to hold on to for as long as there’s another season. Our lives, like this house, are only as full as we make them. All the things that make up our days dance in our memories. Each has made us who we are, together.

  • To Live an Interesting Life

    Walking a young puppy informs. She grows timid as she gets further and further from what is familiar to her. Furtive glances back and a look up at at me coaxing her along are the routine for those first steps. But then something interesting happens: she becomes more excited about what is unfolding in front of her and pulls at the leash instead of being pulled. It’s all I can do to keep pace.

    To live an interesting life means to skate that line between comfort and discomfort, but also to stretch that line and venture beyond. As we stretch ourselves we don’t just grow, we become: interested, engaged, more substantial in our perspective and thus interesting to others. To be interesting requires we grow as people, experiencing all that life throws at us and finding a way through it all.

    To live an interesting life, we ought to find and embrace the joyful moments along the way, savoring the best life offers while honoring our commitment to ourselves to take on challenges as they’re presented to us, to embrace the suck, as it were, when necessary, and to see things through until the end. There’s a natural balance we find in an interesting life, as we find our stride. What is stride but finding rhythm or cadence? It’s a feeling of confidence that develops through both joy and adversity.

    I wonder sometimes, is a blog a narcissistic endeavor or documenting our way through life? It’s whatever we put into it, isn’t it? If someone at a cocktail party is going on and on about themselves, how soon before you call an audible and bow out of the conversation? On the other hand, when that person is interested and engaged in conversation with you, aren’t you more likely to find them interested as a result? I feel this applies equally well to writing as it does to conversations. Perhaps you agree?

    We cannot live an interesting life without first being interested in life. When we are, we find the courage to step beyond our comfort zone and try new things. Pretty soon it’s us pulling others along to new adventures. We don’t get to choose what happens to us in life, but we can choose how we react. Be interested. The journey unfolds from there.

  • Useful in the Doing

    “We, I think, in these times, have had lessons enough of the futility of criticism. Our young people have thought and written much on labor and reform, and for all that they have written, neither the world nor themselves have got on a step. Intellectual tasting of life will not supersede muscular activity.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson, Experience

    This I know to be true: sweat equity in any endeavor is the best way to invest in ourselves, to say nothing of the endeavor. When we labor for something more than ourselves we have a stake in the game. There’s no better way to live in this fragile moment than to be invested in it.

    Lately I’ve noticed a tendency to publish later in the day than I used to. This is largely a symptom of filling my mornings with more purpose. I expect that my schedule will settle back into a normal routine soon enough, hopefully not at the expense of purpose but by leaning into structure. Time will tell, but I know I will be rolling up my sleeves and doing my part for as long as my health allows. May that be far longer than the norm.

    As I write this, I’ve walked more than 30,000 steps today in service to things bigger than myself. Is that cause for celebration? Of course not, but it signals a well-spent day. We are placed on this earth either to occupy space or to be useful. Give me useful.

  • The Shift From Intelligence to Wisdom

    “When you are young, you have raw smarts; when you are old, you have wisdom. When you are young, you can generate lots of facts; when you are old, you know what they mean and how to use them…. if you can repurpose your professional life to rely more on crystallized intelligence—your peak will come later but your decline will happen much, much later, if ever.” — Arthur C. Brooks, From Strength to Strength

    Raymond Cattell theorized that we have two kinds of intelligence: fluid intelligence, which includes problem solving, reasoning and logic, and crystallized intelligence, which is the wisdom to draw upon our accumulated knowledge and derive what to make if it all. If fluid intelligence is exhibited by start-up hustle and eager undergraduate students devouring information, crystallized intelligence is more the consultant swooping in to help a business define their why, or a professor guiding those undergrads towards enlightenment.

    In my career, I’ve been the eager hustler trying to do as much as I could in the world, and I’ve become the person trying to make sense of it all. It’s probably no coincidence that I began this blog when I reached some measure of crystallized intelligence. Surely it would be nothing but fish and chips reviews (ie: discovery) were I still in that fluid intelligence stage. Ten years ago I was still taking exams to add certification credentials to my resume. I wouldn’t dream of playing that game today. Does that make me an old dog unwilling to learn new tricks, or someone who realizes my best game isn’t about that particular trick?

    The thing is, we can still be eager students of life at any age. We can seek wisdom when we’re young and solve problems when we grow old, but it helps greatly to optimize our lives around our strengths in the phase of life we find ourselves in. To be useful and productive means something different at 25, 50 and 75. we ought to dance with our strengths and mitigate the impact of the absence of those strengths we haven’t arrived at yet, or have faded as we change.

    Brooks’ premise is that achievers often fight the natural decline in fluid intelligence instead of embracing the accumulated wisdom and potential of crystallized intelligence. This leads to frustration at best and bitterness at seeing the world pass us by at worst. The answer seems to be finding a groove that matches the music playing on our particular playlist, and dance with that. The tune changes as we change, but it’s music just the same.

  • The Beauty in Useful

    “Why is art beautiful? Because it is useless. Why is life ugly? Because it is all aims and purposes and intentions…. The beauty of ruins? The fact that they were no longer of any use. The sweetness of the past? Being able to remember it, because to remember the past is to make it the present again, and the past is not and cannot be the present — the absurd, my love, the absurd.” — Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

    “My father said to me, ‘Be useful.’ Useful not only to yourself, but useful to your neighborhood, your country, the world. It entails everything.” — Arnold Schwarzenegger, from Men’s Health

    If art is beautiful because it’s useless, does that same criteria apply to a lifetime? What make life beautiful anyway? Is it spontaneity and happenstance or structure and purpose? Doesn’t a lifetime require a bit of both?

    When we systematize our lives we are adding routines that sustain us and increase our effectiveness. Routines don’t have to mean our lives are routine. If a purposeful and intentional life is an ugly life to Pessoa, I would argue it shines a light on our lives, making them more beautiful. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, after all. A painter may find rigid conformity to accepted rules ugly and confining, while an architect or structural engineer finds great beauty in the very same rule.

    We are, each of us, mere memories in the making. What will make our lives beautiful is largely up to us, and it may inspire others. Usefulness is a ripple across time and space. It magnifies our presence into something tangible. Whether we swim in a small pond or a vast ocean, we make a ripple. Done well, a lifetime can be quite beautiful indeed. And isn’t our lifetime our most essential work of art?

  • Free to Find

    ‘When someone is searching, then it can easily happen that the only thing his eyes see is that for which he is searching. He is then unable to find anything or let any thought enter his mind because he always thinks of nothing but the object of his search. He is obsessed by a goal; searching means having a goal. But finding means: being free, open, and having no goal.” — Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

    It occurred to me at one point in my life that I’d read a lot of books, heard many a commencement speech, and listened to countless podcast interviews and Ted talks. These were all forms of seeking, but how much do we incorporate the information we digest into our routines? What have we really found? Is the search merely a distraction from doing the real work of building a life?

    We reach a point, if we’re lucky, when we stop searching at all, and simply become open to what comes into our lives. That doesn’t mean being rudderless, but accepting of the twists and turns that life throws along the path. The path remains, but as the purpose, not as a way to it.

    When you stop searching so much and immerse into the found, life becomes clearer. That doesn’t mean it becomes easier, for those twists and turns demand navigation, but you spend less time looking around for answers. The focus becomes this step on the path, and what’s been in front of you all along.