Category: Personal Growth

  • Up to the Nostrils

    “I think you should always do shit that scares you. You just always have to do stuff that scares you. Just wander right off into the water right up to where just your nostrils are out of it. And then just try and live there.” – Brandi Carlile, on The Howard Stern Show

    How deep are you in the body of water you presently find yourself? How can you wade in deeper? How can you challenge yourself more than you are right now? Are you afraid of drowning? Or simply afraid of getting a little wet?

    Stern is a brilliant interviewer, and when he has someone as extraordinary as Brandi Carlile on his show, someone who rises to the occasion because she’s not afraid to wade in up to the nostrils, the conversation is compelling. Because there’s something drawn out of that conversation that transcends the people talking, they draw something out of you too. You find yourself questioning just how deeply you’ve been willing to wade into that water yourself. In that question is the answer for what you’ve got to do next, should you have the courage to do so.

    What comes next? Where do we go from here? What do you have to give up within yourself to get try to live in that place where you’re just on the edge of drowning? For that is the place where you transcend the ordinary.

    We forget, in our fear of wading in so deeply, that we don’t have to drown. We might just learn to swim in deeper waters. We might just thrive when we find that scary stuff isn’t all that scary after all. Go deeper.

  • Killing Our Previous Self

    Sacrifice the things you used to believe, and the ways you used to be.
    Learning leaves a trail of little deaths.
    – Derek Sivers, How To Live

    The highest reward for a person’s toil is not what they get for it, but what they become by it. – John Ruskin

    We all transform into something different. This is the only way, for no matter how much we might embrace the comfort of our current self, it must ultimately die and be cast aside for the person we become by our actions. The question isn’t whether who we once were dies, but rather, who does the killing. Do we move ourselves towards that which we aspire to be, or does the world leave us behind, a shell of our previous self? Don’t let this happen to you friend!

    The pandemic killed more than the people who succumbed to COVID-19. It killed what was comfortable and routine for the masses, changing us in profound ways that we might not fully understand. But that death of our former self was going to happen anyway, it only accelerated in the pandemic. Mourn what has passed if you will, but then dust yourself off and ask yourself, what comes next for me?

    I mourn the passing of old friendships. People I was once close with who have disappeared down the path of their own lives. But then again, I’ve changed too. Learned new things, built new habits, formed new alliances. Our paths were once parallel and then diverged. Old friends might still gather and celebrate what once was, or look towards a place where we cross paths once again, but ultimately we must keep walking our own path, just as they do. Whatever will be will be. Should we meet again, wouldn’t it be better if we built a great story of how our lives grew in the time we were apart?

    Success is not to be pursued; it is to be attracted by the person you become. – Jim Rohn

    I celebrate the journey others are on, even as I continue on my own path. We’ll have so much to talk about, should we meet again. Stories about those long-dead former selves transformed into something different. Don’t we owe it to ourselves to make that story greater than what it once was? To learn and grow and follow the path that brings us the most meaning in our lives, and share this greater self with others? That, it seems to me, is what success really is.

  • Add a Question Mark

    Don’t accept the false stories people tell.
    Things are neither good nor bad — they’re as neutral as a rock.
    When people give opinions, add a question mark.
    If they say, “Immigration is bad,” change it to, “Immigration is bad?”
    Let the questions drift away, unanswered.
    – Derek Sivers, How To Live

    There’s a hidden message in this Sivers book that comes to you as you read it. Don’t take it all at face value. Question everything. Especially the very things you’re reading in his book. The advice feels both right on point and at other times the completely opposite of what you believe in your core. And that’s the point of it all. There’s no set way to live your life, question all advice and find what works for you.

    I wish more people would add a question mark instead of just blindly believing what they hear from people with accumulated connections, titles and degrees. They may be absolutely correct about a position they take, but it’s just a story until we validate it ourselves. The old expression, “Trust, but verify” comes to mind. Add the question mark to those statements and watch them transform:

    Vaccinations are meant to control people?

    Government serves people?

    There is only one true god?

    You must stick with one company to grow your career?

    You aren’t “qualified”?

    Tom Brady is the greatest quarterback of all time?

    See? Most people throw their beliefs at us to try to make it stick in our own mind. Adding the question mark is like spraying teflon on our skull, making us immune to questionable stories, and making us assess the validity of the feasible. Every statement above could be true, or complete bullshit, but we don’t really know which at face value. We must add the question mark, and in doing so, pause and assess the original statement. Or, for the truly outlandish, let it drift away.

    But Brady is definitely the GOAT. Right?

  • The Hidden Giant

    “A fox looked at his shadow at sunrise and said, “I will have a camel for lunch today.” And all morning he went about looking for camels. But at noon he saw his shadow again—and he said, “A mouse will do.” – Kahlil Gibran, The Fox

    Walking on a beach at sunset earlier this week, shadow revealing the giant hidden within me, reminded me of this fable by Gibran. The beginning of the day is an opportunity to dream big dreams, with the freshness of the morning suggesting we might just be capable of anything. The long day might temper this enthusiasm, full as it is with ebbs and flows, accomplishments and setbacks, but the end of the day offers a chance once again to look at ourselves differently. To see what we’ve achieved and what we might yet do.

    There’s something about seeing yourself from a new perspective that reminds you that you’re not done just yet. You’ve still got that potential for bigger and better things; for greatness. The world is bigger than this day, and that long shadow is a reminder that you can be too.

  • Live It Properly

    “Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now take what’s left and live it properly.”
    — Marcus Aurelius

    There’s something about an extended vacation that makes you hyper-aware of the world you return to. You gain new perspective on the world, you break free of the stories you’ve been telling yourself, the routines you’ve established, and you come back a different person than the one who left. At moments like this the quote above reverberates in my head. Take what’s left and live it properly.

    We have once vibrant people all around us falling by the wayside as their own time comes to an end, but we don’t embrace this truth enough in ourselves. Be it 50 years or 50 more minutes, shouldn’t we make the most of it? Or do we go right back to our previous life of falling in line and doing what’s expected of us? There’s only now, friends.

    What we once were was wonderful, or maybe it wasn’t all that great at all, but it’s gone now. Roll up your sleeves and get to work on who you are now. Who you’ll become, based on what you do next. It’s always been about this next step on the path. For what does “properly” mean to you anyway? Get to it already.

  • Sympathy With Intelligence

    “A man’s ignorance sometimes is not only useful, but beautiful—while his knowledge, so called, is oftentimes worse than useless, besides being ugly. Which is the best man to deal with—he who knows nothing about a subject, and, what is extremely rare, knows that he knows nothing, or he who really knows something about it, but thinks that he knows all? My desire for knowledge is intermittent, but my desire to bathe my head in atmospheres unknown to my feet is perennial and constant. The highest that we can attain to is not Knowledge, but Sympathy with Intelligence.” – Henry David Thoreau, Walking

    We arrive at a deeper understanding and empathy with the world by getting out into it. If there’s been a curse to the pandemic, it’s the distinct lack of getting out there to encounter a different perspective on things than you might have sheltered in place with your favorite sound bites and tweets.

    If the last 6-7 years were defined by anything, it’s this growing assurance that your side is right and any other is wrong. The world seemingly spiraled down into an antagonistic cesspool of us versus them. What’s missing is empathy: the putting ourselves in their shoes part. Seek first to understand and then to be understood, as Stephen Covey would have put it. He’d be shaking his head at the world we find ourselves in today.

    Getting out to meet the world is the solution to this problem. Seeing things the way they look from the other side offers perspective unavailable to those who don’t venture past the mailbox. The idea of getting out to see the world seems to be the most logical thing in the world to many of us, but fills others with dread. Would you live your life forever in a shell or break out of your limited view of the universe and see what’s really out there?

    This week I’m getting back out in the world, not for work, but for pleasure. To see things from a different vantage point, to seek the truth about how things are in a place other than here. To bathe my head in atmospheres unknown to my feet and return with a new perspective on this world. And then, boldly, to do it again.

  • I Will Show Another Me

    When illusion spin her net
    I’m never where I want to be
    And liberty she pirouette
    When I think that I am free
    Watched by empty silhouettes
    Who close their eyes but still can see
    No one taught them etiquette
    I will show another me
    Today I don’t need a replacement
    I’ll tell them what the smile on my face meant
    My heart going boom boom boom
    “Hey” I said “You can keep my things,
    They’ve come to take me home.”
    – Peter Gabriel, Solisbury Hill

    Where were you when you really heard this song for the first time? Not tapping your fingers on the steering wheel while you drive hearing it, but listening to the lyrics and absorbing the weight of what Peter Gabriel was saying to the world? We all confront tough choices, and the toughest choice of all is when everything is going well and we follow the call to change anyway.

    This decision, I will show another me, is the root of change. It’s what Henry David Thoreau was saying in Walden:

    Public opinion is a weak tyrant compared with our own private opinion. What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates, his fate… The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.

    I think a person ought to read Walden every year, to gauge the changes happening within themselves. You might say the same about Solisbury Hill; you hear it differently depending on where you are in your life. Closing in on two years since the beginning of the pandemic, I hear it differently than I did a few years ago. Maybe you do too.

    The theme mirrors Bob Seger’s Roll Me Away, right down to the bird of prey weighing in on the decision the protagonist is about to make. But Solisbury Hill sneaks up on you differently. Maybe it’s the English versus the American take on life-changing moments. Roll Me Away was always a driving song, pulling you relentlessly to the freedom of the road. Solisbury Hill is about a very distinct moment in Peter Gabriel’s career, when he decided to leave Genesis and begin a solo career. And in writing it he blazed a trail for everyone following him in making their own choices in life.

    Should you listen to that voice, trust imagination, and take the leap.

  • The Upward Spiral

    “One of the major problems that arises when people work to become more effective in life is that they don’t think broadly enough. They lose the sense of proportion, the balance, the natural ecology necessary to effective living.” — Stephen Covey, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People (all subsequent quotes are also Covey’s)

    I’m not a marathon runner, but I’ve walked the length of a marathon for a fundraiser, and in walking you experience the same feeling around the 20 mile mark that a runner feels. You’ve hit a wall, you’re mentally and physically done, and you just want the whole thing to end already. This feeling of hitting a wall is similar to the feeling I get when my life is out of balance. Not enough vacation time, not enough exercise, not enough applied efforts towards a work goal… unbalanced.

    When that happens, you feel like you enter a downward spiral. You lose your rhythm and things that came easily seem more difficult. You succumb to distractions like social media or binge-watching shows. You take shortcuts: one indicator for me that I’m out of sorts is when I start using K-cups instead of making coffee with the AeroPress. It may seem trivial, but the extra minute or two to make a better cup of coffee all seems too much in the moment.

    It’s right about then that I begin to take corrective action. Vacation time, of course, helps a lot. Weekends of meaningful, deep restoration instead of tasks and catch-up work. Hiking and other exercise. Deep, distraction-free reading. Meditation, prayer… whatever draws you outside of yourself and into a more balanced place. When you’re in a downward spiral the first thing to do is arrest — a rest — your descent. Give yourself a break already!

    “Renewal is the principle — and the process — that empowers us to move on an upward spiral of growth and change, of continuous improvement. To make meaningful and consistent progress along that spiral, we need to consider one other aspect of renewal as it applies to the unique human endowment that directs this upward movement — our conscience…. Conscience is the endowment that senses our congruence or disparity with correct principles and lifts us toward them.”

    Reversing that downward spiral, that just survive to fight another day feeling, changes your mindset. Re-energized and restored, you might be so bold as to think about climbing again. To put yourself on an upward spiral towards a higher place in your life. To prioritize the things that bring you positive energy and push aside the bad habits accumulated on your downward spiral and refocus on the essential few things that matter most for you. Things that bring you energy and vitality. In short, remap your life and put yourself back on course.

    “The law of the harvest governs; we will always reap what we sow — no more, no less. The law of justice is immutable, and the closer we align ourselves with correct principles, the better our judgement will be about how the world operates and the more accurate our paradigms — our maps of the territory — will be.”

    “Moving along the upward spiral requires us to learn, commit, and do on increasingly higher planes. We deceive ourselves if we think any one of these is sufficient. To keep progressing, we must learn, commit, and do—learn, commit, and do—and learn, commit, and do again.”

    To reach a higher plane demands a lifetime of consistent learning, commitment and action. But when the saw is dull you won’t make progress. That old expression, “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”? There’s truth in that. Take a rest, evaluate your course and correct as necessary. And only then can you get back on that upward spiral.

  • Making it Interesting

    “If you want to write, if you want to create, you must be the most sublime fool that God ever turned out and sent rambling. You must write every single day of your life. You must read dreadful dumb books and glorious books, and let them wrestle in beautiful fights inside your head, vulgar one moment, brilliant the next. You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads. I wish you a wrestling match with your Creative Muse that will last a lifetime. I wish craziness and foolishness and madness upon you. May you live with hysteria, and out of it make fine stories — science fiction or otherwise. Which finally means, may you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world.” – Ray Bradbury

    I’ve read this Bradbury quote before, and it made me smile but didn’t resonate at the time. Now it reads differently. Now I’m deep in it and looking at the wrestling match with the Creative Muse with both dread and delight. Now I’m scheming where I might insert travel and more writing into my days. Now I look at dusty books that have long occupied space on my shelves mocking me for not getting to them, and knowing they hold secrets I’ll never know until I earn them.

    I happen to be slogging through a couple of books that bore me to tears, but now and then drop a wisdom nugget into my shaking hands. Why read two dull books at once? When I grow frustrated with one I turn back to the other, then back again, until some moment when I finish both. My reward will be reading some page-turner fiction that I may finish on one cross-country flight.

    The mission is to make your own writing interesting. To not create one of those dull slogs you get through before you reward yourself with the page-turner. If you live with the naive (even reckless) goal of earning a place at the table with the great writers you must do (and publish!) the work, but you must also create something compelling.

    And that’s the wrestling match, isn’t it? Anyone can throw up a bunch of words, the trick is to make them swing together to the music in your soul. While there’s time.

  • The Changes You Take Yourself Through

    Everybody needs a change
    A chance to check out the new
    But you’re the only one to see
    The changes you take yourself through
    – Stevie Wonder, Don’t You Worry About A Thing

    In New England, October is the time of tangible, visible change. The world transforms around you in such strikingly obvious ways that even the most inward-facing among us look up and see it. The days get shorter and darker, the air crisp and demanding of attention, and of course the leaves paint the landscape in an explosion of color. No wonder this is the time of year most people who live here point to as their favorite.

    It seems a good time to celebrate change. The incremental changes we see around us are also happening within us. We grow incrementally better or worse, depending on our focus and applied effort. And because we’re humans you might make tangible progress in one area while you slide a bit sideways in another. Such is life.

    When you write and publish every single day you force yourself to become a keen observer. And you become more efficient in putting thought to paper (or onto the screen and whatever database in the Cloud they take up residence in). Sometimes you’re the only one to see the changes you take yourself through, and sometimes a percentage of the world takes notice. The only part that’s important is that you take yourself through it to see where you go next.

    Change. We get so caught up in getting there that we forget to celebrate here. Dance in the moment that you recognize that life is this short wonderful eruption of thought and emotion and transformation. Maybe turn the volume up a bit more today. For there’s urgency in the air. Celebrate where you are. You’ve come so far already.