Monthly Archives: April 2014

Who Rubs You The Wrong Way?

DSC_0442Hello friend,

Passive-aggressive. Bossy. Non-stop talker. Pessimistic. Needy. Smarmy. Stingy. Vulgar. Nosy. Selfish. Complainer. Worrier. Arrogant. Lazy. Hyper. Greedy. Unintelligent. Rude. Temperamental. Liar. Bragger. Competitive. Unreliable.

The list could go on and on, I suppose. I am talking about the qualities or personality traits that are the most unattractive in people. I might even go so far as to say repulsive. There are those individuals in your corner of the world—relatives, co-workers, acquaintances, store clerks, salespeople, neighbors, teammates, classmates—whom you really, REALLY want to avoid. You do your best to be courteous and keep your interactions brief, but you know deep down that if the two of you were locked in a room or on a long car ride, one of you just might not make it out alive. Any bells ringing yet?

I am a pretty unsocial guy, so I avoid most conversations outside of my home and my workplace. Thankfully, at least for the sake of this discussion, my job provides more than enough characters and situations to expose these not-so-lovely traits. I teach tennis, mostly to adults. I work with some people privately, some in groups, and I am involved in their competitions with others, often needing to speak with both sides simultaneously after a tough match. All of these situations provide ample opportunity for me get to know various sides of people’s personalities: the good, the bad, and the ugly. And believe me, it gets ugly! If you have a mental picture of someone for each of the different characteristics I listed at the top, I get to meet all of them at work tomorrow. Lucky me!!

So, of all these special folks, who rubs me the most wrong? Who can get under my skin just walking in the door? That’s easy: ARROGANT. Definitely arrogant. I am no fan of the complainer or the lazy, sure, but arrogance brings out something different in me. It makes my blood boil a bit. I can think of a player on one of my teams who makes me work REALLY HARD to be pleasant to her for 90 minutes. Her teammates can barely stand her, and after every match she plays—even if there is no big blow-up during the match—her opponent is ready to tear her head off. The woman oozes arrogance. It drips off of her.

That is the interesting thing about arrogance compared to most of the other unappealing traits: you can see it. It is embedded in every mannerism. Nonverbals never screamed so loud before. They say, in no uncertain terms, “You are beneath me. I am better than you. I dismiss you!” Other personality traits often require some lengthy and intimate experiences with a person to come out. Arrogance announces itself at the outset. It comes right out of the pores. I picture the Billy Zane character in “Titanic”. That guy had arrogant down. Last night I was watching “Sofia the First”, a Disney cartoon, with my five-year-old, and she told me she didn’t like Princess Amber “because she thinks she is better than everyone else.” She got to learn a new vocabulary word: arrogant. It turns out that it even oozes from cartoon characters!

What I want to know more than anything is this: what does it say about me that arrogance is the one that pushes my buttons most? What does it reveal? I believe that our “enemies” are really our greatest teachers, and that what annoys or angers us in others often points to an issue we need to resolve in ourselves. So, why me and arrogance?

I have a couple different theories on my issue with arrogance and its unhealthy power to make my blood boil. First, there was a time in my life—high school—when people certainly believed I was arrogant (“stuck-up” is the high school word for arrogant, or at least it was at my school). And, while most of what anyone thinks or finds important in high school is utter nonsense—oh, how insecure we are at that age!—through the lens of 20-plus years later, I don’t know that it was all wrong about me. While I think I have eradicated most of that in all this time and found some humility to replace it, I still have to catch myself in moments when I find my intellectual snobbery creeping in. So, perhaps what boils my blood is seeing in the arrogant person the worst part of myself. It’s an ugly reflection.

My other theory on my strong reaction to arrogance centers around a shot at my ego. Like most people, I like to think of myself in positive terms. I try to embrace the good things about me and am probably in denial about the bad stuff. In any case, I have a pretty strong self-esteem. As I mentioned above, everything about the arrogant person screams, “You are beneath me.” My ego simply does not want to hear that. It feels like an assault on me every time I encounter arrogance. My defense mechanisms go up and I feel the urge to cut that person down to size just so they are clear that I am NOT beneath them. My ego really wants to teach them that lesson. (I am honestly just uncovering this about myself as I write this to you, and it is a pretty tough realization. What a waste of my energy! I need to get over it. Now.)

So, how about you? What’s your trigger? Open up your journal and your mind; it is time to write it out. Which personality trait gets deepest under your skin? Think about all the people you know? Is it your passive-aggressive sister-in-law, your unreliable co-worker, or your nosy neighbor? There are many unattractive traits, but which one really pushes your buttons. Then, what do you think that says about you? Is there some of that repulsive trait in you—like my arrogance–that you feel ashamed of? Are you able to see these people as teachers, or is it just too hard to get past the repulsion or anger? Maybe writing it out in your journal can build that bridge for you. Give it a shot, and then leave me a reply. I want to know: who rubs you the wrong way?

The answer is within,

William

What Step Can You Take Today?

“DSC_0248If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” –Henry David Thoreau

Hello friend,

Everyone has big rocks. Goals. Things you want to accomplish. Habits you want to begin. Things that are out there in the shadows of your mind, ready to be illuminated simply by looking at them and admitting their importance. These rocks are different for everyone. Lose weight. Learn how to paint. Finally remodel the bathroom. Start your own business. Write a daily journal (yes!). Reconnect with your life partner. Trace your ancestry. Travel to Rome. Daily meditation. Go back to school. Get in shape.

Two months ago, I started this “Journal of You” blog. For the year-and-a-half leading up to that, the focus of all of my non-children time—my biggest rock–was working on what I call TJP, or The Journal Project. I read through and took notes on every one of my daily journal entries from the nearly 50 volumes I have filled in all of my years of journaling (basically my entire adult life). For most of that year-and-a-half, the long-term goal of the project was to make some sort of a book out of the entries. I wanted my daily habit to become an example for others, an inspiration to get to know themselves through journaling. When I finally finished reading and taking notes, I realized that, at the pace I was moving and the time I had, it might take a few more years to actually produce that book.

The feeling began to gnaw at me that I couldn’t wait that long to get my voice–my message–out into the Universe. I was impatient to, if not be done with my rock, perhaps bust it up a little. I asked myself, “What can I do right now—what step can I take today—to advance my agenda, to move my rock?” The answer, of course, was to start “Journal of You”. I started writing to you twice a week in an attempt to coax you into starting your journal to discover yourself and ultimately become a happier, more grateful person. It was more of a giant leap for me than a small step, but that is kind of how I roll. Even though the blog has taken up a lot of time–that I didn’t have in the first place–I love doing it, and it has become part of my schedule. It means a lot to me, too, because it symbolizes to me that I have put myself out there, not just to you but to the Universe, so the gods know I am DOING something about my dreams, not just talking about them or writing about them in a journal.

But what now?  The blog has settled into my schedule. Even though some days I feel like it is all I can do to keep up writing and coming up with new ideas for the next one, I also feel like I need to go beyond that. I have other rocks, after all, and though in my most lucid moments I am aware that I cannot do everything at once, I don’t want to get lazy, don’t want to be irresponsible with my gifts and my dreams. I keep reminding myself, “This is not a dress rehearsal!”

So, what are my big rocks at the moment that need to be addressed? I definitely have to return to The Journal Project and start the next phase, which is typing everything up.   That could take years—literally years—to finish, but it must start sometime? I made it through the first (reading & note-taking) phase, which was a year-and-a-half, so I know I have it in me. I also have to get on my plan for life coach certification. That has always seemed like this giant, vague, amorphous shadow that is somewhere “out there”, that I have yet to come to know. It retains an air of mystery because of that, but, much more powerfully, it is frightening to me. For one, I know it is going to involve a large investment of both time and money for me. Those are things I do not part with easily. Second, jumping into the training means I am really going to do it. That means shaking up my whole world, potentially changing careers entirely and starting fresh. Sure, that is exciting, but it’s scary as hell, too. It is in my DNA to have a million more rocks to move, too—daily meditation, get back in shape, learn the guitar, paint my bedroom, and on and on—but The Journal Project and life coaching are the rocks that feel heaviest to me today.

Though these rocks are almost so big and scary that they resemble the monster in the closet that is more comfortable to ignore than to face, face them I must. I am compelled to do something to chip away at them. Anything! But what? What can I do today—even this week—to shine a light on the monster, to make the boulder a little smaller, to “endeavor to live the life which I have imagined”? Here is what I have decided. For The Journal Project, I am going to give myself both daily and weekly goals and minimum quotas, and I am going to schedule the time to achieve those goals. I am slowly learning the wisdom of scheduling my priorities, that if something is not on my schedule, it is not really a priority and will not get done. For the life-coaching monster, I am going to finally give it a face. I am going to get on the Internet and research the different options for training and certification. I am going to learn—in clear and certain terms—how long the training is going to take and how much it is going to cost. That will allow me to frame it more clearly when I try to come up with some sort of a 5-Year Plan. Right now, I just want to know what I am looking at. Understanding the time and money commitment will do that for me.

Those are my action items: make my goals and schedule the typing time, and do the Internet research to get clarity on the scope of the training. Whew!!! It feels like a relief already. The big rocks don’t seem so big and scary—so monstrous—anymore. I feel so much more free to “advance confidently in the direction of my dreams.” I didn’t need to clear the entire road ahead of me, just the next step. On I go!

So, how about you? Get out your journal, and let’s get specific. What are your rocks? Are they lifelong challenges, or have you discovered them more recently? Are they related to your dreams and following your Bliss, or are they more tasky things, like home projects? Are they one-time deals or more about habit-building? How much stress do they give you? Sometimes the mere idea of achieving a goal—or even working towards it—can relieve that stress dramatically. Once you identify your rocks, what can you do—TODAY—to move them? How can you make them more manageable? Give yourself an action item. Then, leave me a reply. I want to know: what step can you take today?

Walk like you mean it,

William

The New Mount Rushmore?

DSC_0880“You can tell that something isn’t right, When all your heroes are in black and white” –John Mayer

Hello friend,

Last month, basketball superhero LeBron James sparked a flurry of debate when he named his “Basketball Mount Rushmore”. Everyone and their dog and had an opinion—I came down on Jordan, Russell, Kareem, and Magic, in case you care—and it made for fascinating discussion. I have been stuck on the idea ever since. I have been debating in my head about who might belong on the Mount Rushmore of each sport, of authors, musicians, painters, actors, directors, talk show hosts, television characters, and on and on. You name it! It is great fodder for a friendly debate with your buddies over a cool beverage, or, in my case, journal material while I am swilling hot chocolate.

What I just realized, though, is that in all of my pondering over the million new versions of Mount Rushmore of the various fields, I never stopped to consider the real deal. What about the actual Mount Rushmore??? Is it above debate just because it is carved into a mountainside? And, perhaps more interestingly, how about a new one? Yeah, what if we could make an updated Mount Rushmore, from people prominent just since, say, 1960? This is within most of our lifetimes. We are kind of a short-term memory, what-have-you-done-for-me-lately kind of people these days, so maybe this is just right for us. I’m giving it a shot!

I have to start with Martin Luther King, Jr., mainly because when I started thinking about the revising the real Mount Rushmore, he was the first one that came to my mind in terms of an iconic figure who truly shaped the way we live and the way we see the world today (See ya, Teddy Roosevelt!). If he can make it on my all-time list, he can definitely make the Modern Mount Rushmore. This one is my no-brainer.

Here is where it gets tough! Our society has changed so much in the last 50-plus years. The Presidents—or anyone else for that matter—don’t get put on pedestals like they used to. We have become much more into our celebrities and our electronic devices than we have our politicians. With that in mind, I think we have to consider people for our Modern Rushmore who represent not so much change in our national policies as much as in our culture as a whole, the way we live.

In the world of entertainment, the face that keeps coming to me is Oprah. Think about it: if you had an amazing tale to tell the world and were going to pick one person to interview you for a prime-time special, who would you pick? Oprah is more famous, wealthy, and powerful than any of the famous, wealthy, and powerful people she chooses to interview. She is an accomplished actor, producer, and talk show host, and, oh yeah, has a magazine and an entire network named after her. I know that not everyone loves Oprah, but enough people do, and she is undeniably an icon.

If entertainment is going to get a face on the Modern Mount Rushmore, I think technology needs one, too. It is simply who we have become in recent years, and that doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. Unfortunately for me, my knowledge of the hierarchy of tech giants is miniscule. I have to guess the main candidates that have shaped our way of life more than anyone else are Apple’s Steve Jobs and Bill Gates of Microsoft in the computer industry, and Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg in the social media sphere. Because I am writing on a MacBook right now and have an iPhone in my pocket, I am going to give my Modern Rushmore face to Steve Jobs. I remember my elementary school getting one Apple IIe on a rolling cart and how excited I was when it was my classroom’s turn to use it for the day so we could play “Oregon Trail”. I also remember being just completely in awe of the iPod when it came out, how I could suddenly fit my hundreds of CDs in my pocket. It seems that, in our technology-driven world, the Gotta-Have-It items all come from Apple. Steve Jobs, you are on the mountain!

Okay, one more spot to fill. It feels like we must have a President on there, doesn’t it? I mean, the actual Mount Rushmore is four Presidents, after all. This is a challenge. Kennedy, coming right at the beginning of our Modern period, is tempting, because we romanticize anyone who dies young (e.g. James Dean, Marilyn Monroe). It was a pretty brief presidency, though. Ronald Reagan is certainly an icon for Republicans. Hmmm…. The one that has me most tempted, however, is Obama. Yes, Obama. That probably sounds totally crazy, as he is still in office, has had highly controversial policies, and by most historians’ ratings is not even in the Top Ten for greatest Presidents of all-time (my quick study of websites shows him around 14 or 15, slightly behind Kennedy but ahead of the rest of the Presidents in the era we are considering). So why put his face on the Modern Mount Rushmore?

I think Obama symbolizes where this country is heading for future Presidential elections. In a relatively brief time, he went from an unknown, inexperienced Senator to an actual movement. With charisma and excellent speaking skills, young people in our country latched onto him. He became hot in the way a new Hollywood celebrity becomes hot. I foresee that happening more and more in our future. I think we will see–driven by social media–charismatic figures with less and less political experience rise to office on a wave of fame, similar to what Arnold Schwarzenegger did in California. Obama was actually qualified and a politician, but his meteoric rise, along with our society’s lust for celebrity, will encourage a greater variety of characters to give Presidential politics a shot. Like Steve Jobs or Oprah, he symbolizes not so much our heroes but who we are as a society and what drives us.

The question of trying to squeeze President Obama onto our Modern Mount Rushmore points up the problem of trying to put anyone on there anymore. We live in a society that has lost its innocence. Our media outlets no longer offer the President–or any other celebrity–privacy in any area of their lives. But more than that, our media—and us, frankly—have essentially given up on manners when it comes to speaking to or about our leaders. It has become normal for “mainstream” news networks to totally bash the President—whoever it is—both politically and personally. The late-night comedy talk show hosts are merciless. The President is no longer protected by the media. Whether or not the media knew about all of Kennedy’s behind-the-scenes shenanigans, the view that the public received was Camelot. It was the elegant wife and the beautiful kids growing up in the White House. It was idyllic. Compare that to Obama. He has the elegant wife and beautiful young kids, too, but no one is selling Camelot anymore. It just doesn’t sway the way it used to.

We are jaded. It is tough to make a hero these days. We know too much and allow too many shows of disrespect to our leaders to allow anyone to get their balance on the pedestal, much less to take root there. We build people up to tear them down the next week, moving from one flavor to the next in our attention-deficit media minds. I shudder to think who we would put on the Rushmore of the next 50 years. The sculptor’s mountain would turn quickly into a molehill, because he would be scraping off the faces and starting over every few weeks as we turned our latest heroes to villains. Needless to say, the age of carving faces into mountains is probably long behind us.

So, after all of this, has the idea of creating a Modern Mount Rushmore been a waste of thoughts? Have I been chasing the wind? Maybe so. Maybe it is impossible to make lasting heroes today. It is certainly getting harder, anyway. That makes me a little sad to think about. Maybe the thing is to not try to make a mountain for everyone, but rather, carve your stone in your own backyard. Find the people in your world–however unknown they may be to others—who inspire you, who are worth emulating. Tell people about the faces on your rock. Ask other people which faces are on theirs. Make your rock matter to you. But have one! Find people to be inspired by. They are out there.

Okay, it is time to unload your thoughts into your journal. Who do you think deserves a spot on the Modern Mount Rushmore? Does anyone from your modern list kick someone off the actual Mount Rushmore? Do you agree with me that the modern version should include some non-political figures? What about your personal rock? What is it about those four people that lands them there? Why should we come to know them? This is a topic that can go a lot of ways, so be open-minded and think deeply. Leave me a reply and let me know: who is on your list?

You are amazing,

William

Which Way Do You Lean?

DSC_1336Hello friend,

This is a dangerous topic! Along with its friend Religion, this is one of the two subjects you are not supposed to bring up in polite conversation. Let’s talk about—you guessed it–POLITICS! Yes, politics. You are probably cringing at the thought, but I am actually going to make it safe for you—just this once—to talk about where you really stand politically.

How, you ask, could I ever make it safe and socially acceptable for you to talk about where you stand on such divisive issues as gay marriage, Obamacare, gun control, abortion, military spending, welfare, and capital punishment, without offending someone or ending a friendship? Easy, I say. You get to write it all down in a journal.

Politics is such a strange topic for me. I waffle back and forth between, on the one hand, wanting to be super-engaged and even considering what office I should run for, to, on the other hand, being so completely disgusted by the politicians and the whole political process in America that I cannot stand to see or hear another one of them speak. I want to make positive change in this world—indeed, I have even had, at random moments in my life, the thought, “I wonder if I should run for President so I can heal our seemingly infinite social problems?”–and I have to think that most of these folks got into it with similar aspirations. So, why do almost all of them end up looking to me like slippery, self-serving, snakes whose only aspiration is to get re-elected?

It annoys me when I am ambivalent about a topic. Why do I pay almost no attention to what these guys are talking about in the non-election years but then, come election season, I dust off my television and stay up late with the CNN crew dissecting every word of every Presidential debate? I think it because I want to love it. I really do. I want to be inspired by these people, want to be pushed to become civically engaged, want to believe that the political process truly results in a great service to the people of our country and our world. I desperately want to.

I grew up in the 1980s in a thoroughly Republican house in a thoroughly Republican state. Ronald Reagan may as well have been God. When he annihilated Walter Mondale in the 1984 election, it only affirmed in my young mind that Republicans were superior beings. If you asked me then, or any time in the next 10 years, what Republicans stood for or what made the Democrats so inferior, I wouldn’t have had a clue. I knew nothing about the issues. Nothing! The first Presidential election in which I was old enough to vote was 1992. It was Bush #1 vs. Clinton #1. Knowing nothing, I voted REPUBLICAN. The Democrat won. I don’t know if it was my shock from the realization that there was another side that had voters, or if I was simply growing up and actually thinking, but by the time the next election came around, I had an opinion. I went with Clinton—a DEMOCRAT—for his second term (It’s a good thing for the secret ballot, because I would have been excommunicated from my family on the spot). By the time 2000 rolled around, I was so significantly unimpressed by the two major party candidates that I went with Ralph Nader and the GREEN PARTY (And no, I am not the one who cost Gore the election, because North Dakota’s electoral votes weren’t going anywhere but to Bush in that race). Since then, the Democrat in every Presidential race has had my vote.

I am not a party guy. It is in my nature to resist being affiliated with a group. In high school, you couldn’t have made me wear a letterman’s jacket or the tennis team’s state championship jacket if you paid for it. I don’t know what it is, but I do not like to join groups, and even less do I like advertising the ones I am in. Thus, I cannot imagine ever joining a political party. I keep waiting for a party to come along and really impress me with its stance on the issues and the candidates it puts forth. I certainly wish we had a system that encouraged more than two parties, because it seems to me that our two have become grossly homogenized. I know there are differences between the two—there are reasons I fill in the circle by the Democrat’s name in the local elections that I don’t know enough about—but I am not clear on how different the results are depending on who is in power. I think it would be refreshing to get some other voices into the process. The two we currently hear are not exactly lighting my fire.

I seem to be more attached to the issues than the parties. As the years have gone on, I have become about as liberal as can be. I want everybody to have food on their table, health care, and the right to get married. I don’t want anybody owning assault weapons, our military to attack and occupy countries we simply disagree with, or our courts to command criminals to die. I want the environment taken care of and women to be in charge of their bodies. I know that a lot of these things cost money, and though I don’t have a lot of that, I can live with the cost. It feels like a privilege that we in this country have the option of paying, that the money is there (I am a really cheap guy, too, so parting with my money doesn’t come by me easily). As I mentioned, I am not exactly one for advertising my affiliations, so I never thought I would put a political sign in my yard. However, when my wife brought one home in the last election in support of gay marriage, I didn’t fight it. I would rather get behind issues than parties. In any case, I am clearly leaning left.

How about you? Where do you fit on the spectrum? It is time for you to break out the journal for that rare moment of total honesty regarding your politics. Do you belong to a party? Why or why not? Which issues speak to you most? Are there some that you really have no opinion on? Those can be the best ones to write about. If you consider yourself either a Republican or Democrat, are there any of the issues that you significantly disagree with the opinion of your party on? Do you think you are who you are politically because of your race, gender, religion, or economic class? Who in your life can you talk openly about this stuff with? How about your family? Are you all on the same page, or are you the me in your brood? More than most topics, I really want you to dive extra deep on this one, because your journal may be the one place you can actually be open and honest about these issues. Believe me, it can be quite liberating to get this stuff off your chest. Leave me a reply and let me know how it goes. I want to know: which way do you lean?

Authentic you is beautiful you,

William

Are You a Quitter?

DSC_1169Hello friend,

Last week, somebody told me I was a quitter.  That’s right: a quitter.  It is not everyday that you get that thrown at you in polite conversation.  But there it was, right in my face.  Quitter!

Let me give you some context.  I was talking with an acquaintance who hadn’t previously known a lot about my past but has been reading my blog posts the last couple of months.  I have been pretty open in the posts about my past as well as the things that light me up—like writing this blog for you—and what I see myself doing in the future.  I have mentioned things like leaving college to study acting in my early 20s and later leaving a doctorate program.  I have also mentioned my desire to reach and teach a greater number of people through writing/speaking/life coaching.

So, last week when I saw my acquaintance who suddenly knew a lot more about me than she had before, she instantly got on my case about pursuing a life coaching certification immediately.  It was totally well-meaning, of course; she really seemed to want me to live my purpose as soon as possible.  She was pushing hard, though, trying to press me on what was holding me back and then dismissing any possible excuse.  Then she dropped it on me.  “Look, you have quit on a lot of stuff in your life!”  I was a little taken aback at first but mostly amused at the accusation, so I said, “Like what?”  She, of course, listed all of the things I mentioned above, and concluded with, “You have quit everything you’ve ever done!”

Was it true?  Am I a quitter?  I decided I needed to explore this idea, so of course I turned to my journal.  I walked myself through all of the major course changes I have made in my life and asked if each change was a result of me quitting something.  I came to see that it was crucial to the discussion to find the essence of what “quitting” really is.

What does it mean to quit?  The term carries such a negative connotation in our daily conversation.  For me, quitting involves giving up on something that is very important to you, especially when the going gets tough and you believe you just aren’t up to the task, that it is too difficult and too scary.  Fear is a big part of it: fear of not being enough.  The other key element, in my view, in defining the concept of quitting is regret.  When you really quit on something—when you bail out of something that is an important part of who you are—it is worthy of feelings of regret later.  It doesn’t have to be the case that you feel regret—lots of people bury their heads and hearts in the sand (with addictions, denial, or other destructive behaviors) to escape the feeling—but rather, if you looked yourself in the mirror for the cold truth, you would find regret shrouding the event.  Quitting is regret-worthy.

So, how about me?  Had I been quitting on each step of my journey?  Was each new road I took just a cowardly bailing out of the previous path?  Let’s review.  From the time I was a kid, I always thought I was going to be a doctor.  I told myself that all through high school and my first couple of years of college.  Then, as that whole world of medical school/doctoring/the rest of my life began to feel close at hand, my inner voice started screaming at me that that was not the path for me.  So, in fairly abrupt fashion, I pulled out of school.

I had become enchanted with the idea of studying acting, so I bounced around the country doing that, eventually landing in Los Angeles.  From the time I arrived there, it was fairly clear to me that I wasn’t in love with the people or the business of acting, but I loved the craft of it.  Though I very much wanted to be famous so I could make an impact on people’s lives, I always told myself that as soon as something else lit my fancy, I would leave LA.  I never did get the “big break” acting job, but I was doing my best—getting some parts and an agent–at the time I decided to leave.  I can honestly say that it never crossed my mind as I was preparing to leave that I had “failed” as an actor.  I simply found something else I wanted to do more.  I wanted to travel and enrich myself with books and self-exploration.  So I left.  I have always missed the acting but never the other stuff.  Great lessons, no regrets.

From there I passed into a wonderful period of travel and learning.  All of this study eventually led me back to college—hoping to learn even more–which then led me into a Ph.D. program in Philosophy.  I hoped that by studying Applied Ethics, I could bring positive change to the world by eradicating social problems.  It wasn’t until I got going in the six-year program that I realized that this path was not for me, that it wasn’t going to fulfill me the way I had envisioned it would.  The goal was a good one, but this wasn’t the best way to achieve it.  So again, I abruptly removed myself from the situation.  I quit the program.

From graduate school, I moved on to teaching Tennis.  Here I have been for the last twelve years.  (Well, if truth be told, I actually quit part of this job, too.  I was a manager in the field, but I stepped down from those duties when my daughter was born so I could spend more time with her.  Quitter.  Ha!)

I guess that the best way I can explain this to myself is that there feels like a big difference between truly “quitting” something—with the fear and the future regret —and simply changing course because the path you are on no longer feels authentic to you, not representative of your soul’s true calling and joy.  We do change, right?  I surely have.  I was into college 100%…..until I wasn’t.  I loved acting…..until I found something that lit me up even more.  I thought that graduate school was going to lead me toward a goal that meant a lot to me…..until I got there and realized the road was going in a slightly different direction.

Now I have been on this Tennis path—and enjoyed being on it—for all of this time, but my soul is stirring again.  I am wondering if I can do the world more good–and be more fulfilled–by doing more writing/speaking/life coaching.  What if I change course again?  Will that qualify as quitting another thing?  {Odd aside: does it strike you as ironic that the woman who called me a quitter was doing so to motivate me to quit my current profession?  People are special.}  I think that to label every course change as “quitting” is to turn people into cartoon characters.  It is a shallow way to label.  Besides, is there really some great honor in staying in something that no longer serves your greatest good nor feels authentic to you?

I know that quitting happens.  We get faced with difficult life situations all the time—it is not easy to achieve our goals—and bail out.  We make excuses and hide from the regret that comes with abandoning our dreams.  But more often, we think we want something—a marriage, a career path, whatever—so we try it out and give it a good opportunity to light up our soul, eventually finding that it simply does not, or that something else lights it more.  So we choose a different path on our quest for happiness.  It seems to me that true quitting is much more rare than our convenient use of the term.  More tragic and frequent, I think, is the absence of trying, the paralyzing fear of failing if we really do make a run at our dreams.

I would rather fail or “quit” a hundred different pursuits as long as I was living my Truth, taking a chance on true Happiness and Fulfillment.  So, I will keep living authentically, marching to the beat of my own drummer.  Then, when I reach the end of my life’s journey, I can look back with contentment on all of the roads I have traveled.  Walking in my Truth is enough for me.

How about you?  Open your journal and write about your journey.  What does the road of your life look like?  Have you kept your hands at ten and two the whole way, never changing course?  Or, are you like me, taking some sharp turns or totally jumping off track here and there?  How would you label your shifts?  Did you quit, or did you simply choose differently?  It is certainly not easy to admit that we quit, and we can go to great lengths to convince ourselves otherwise.  So, I commend you in advance if you really can own the regrets and other baggage that comes with such an admission.   Walk through all of your big life changes.  Then leave me a reply and let me know: are you a quitter?

Embrace yourself,

William

The Books That Have Touched Me Deepest

DSC_0522“I cannot live without books” –Thomas Jefferson

Hello friend,

My Mom once got me an old-style book bag with that Jefferson quote on it, and I hung it from a lamp in my room for years and years.  It doesn’t just say something about me; it speaks to me.  I can hardly recite it without my voice cracking and my hair standing on end.  It goes right to my core.  I cannot live without books.

I have always loved to read.   When I was in my mid-20s, for one year I kept track of all the books I read.  I averaged more than one per week and was gloriously happy in the process.  The only problem: each book I read suggested several more, so I ended up with a Wish List that was hundreds of titles long.  There is just so much to know!  Whenever I want to wander away in my mind, I just spin my desk chair around and gaze at my enormous bookshelf.  I easily drift away into the many favorites that have become so much a part of me over the years.  They are like old friends, the shelves like a photo album of fond memories.  However, there are also so many there that remain untouched, unopened.  Those are the ones that hound me, begging for my attention.  I vow to get to them all one day.  But how can I keep up?  A sane person would realize that he is too busy to get to the ones he already has and be wise enough to not add to the collection.  I, however, am insane.  Every year my Christmas list is full of more titles to fill the shelves.  What can I say?  I love books.

Last night as I wrote, I found myself needing a mental break.  I swung my chair around to look at my dear old friends on the shelves.  As I pondered my long list of favorites, I found my eyes and my memory drawn to the same titles over and over.  These were the books that burned right into my soul the first time I read them and have remained a genuine piece of who I am over the years.  My honorable mention list is enormous, but these four have certainly touched me the deepest:

  • Walden—Henry David Thoreau.  This book rocked my world and set me on my course probably more than any other.  I had always been drawn to it and finally read it when I was about 24.  Honestly, it felt like Thoreau was writing right out of my own mind.  I completely identified with his desire for solitude and simplicity, and I was similarly disenchanted with society.  But mostly I loved how he wanted to live authentically, to be fully himself and pay no mind to what others expected of him nor thought of him.  I loved that he “wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.”  Those words shake me even as I type them.  This book shook me.  It truly set me on the psychological and spiritual path that I still live on.  I have adopted it as my own.
  • Into the Wild—Jon Krakauer.  The true story of Christopher McCandless’ (a.k.a. Alexander Supertramp) walk out of society and into his Truth—and ultimate death—in the wilderness has been out for nearly twenty years, yet I have never been able to shake him from my system.  He haunts me.  As with Thoreau, I very much identified with McCandless’ ideals and longings.  I believe that Krakauer did as well, and that bleeds into the telling of the story.  I have always enjoyed this type of book that reveals the tragic outcome at the beginning of the account and then goes back to dive into the lives of the characters and traces the timeline leading to the tragedy (e.g. The Perfect Storm, Finding Everett Ruess, and Krakauer’s Into Thin Air), but this is by far the one that still lives in me.  If I opened it right now, I wouldn’t put it down until I finished the last page.
  • Conversations With God—Neale Donald Walsch.  I am actually cheating with this one, because I am including the entire …With God series–some of which I actually like better than the first book–in my sentiment.  Like Walden, this series is a cornerstone in my entire spiritual/psychological foundation.  It came to me at a time, not long after Thoreau, when I had shed the religious teachings of my youth but had not yet found anyone talking specifically about the God I knew.  Enter Walsch and his “conversation” with God.  I found myself saying out loud, “Yes” or “Exactly!” frequently as I read.  I knew I wasn’t alone.  Having read the Bible, Koran, Bhagavad-Gita, and other sacred texts, I found some relief, too, in the idea that holy books did not have to be 2,000 years old.
  • On The Road—Jack Kerouac.  This is pure romance for me.  I was absolutely taken by these mad characters, all based on real people—including himself—in Kerouac’s life.  The “spontaneous prose” that he writes in completely swept me away.  Much like the others, this book gained its place in my heart based on its appearance on my life’s timeline.  You see, just as I was about to embark on the biggest “roadtrip” of my life—wandering around Europe alone for a few months with my backpack—I grabbed a couple of paperbacks at a New York bookstore to be my companions for the trip.  As fate would have it, On The Road was first.  I read it as I sat along the canals in Amsterdam, fantasizing about Jack’s beatific world and the mysterious road ahead of me.  My soul was absolutely on fire!  This was an instant classic for me.

I find myself so happy and grateful as I think about these books.  They have done so much for me, and I feel completely humbled by their magnitude.  As someone who likes to share through the written word, I am, of course, jealous of the astounding ability of these authors.  What I see as the common thread running through the four works is a wonderful execution by the authors in reaching the very core elements of humanity, allowing us to see ourselves bare and real, in all our beautiful Truth.  That is why they make my list, and why they make me.

How about you?  Which books are on your list?  Which ones penetrate right to your core?  Are yours more fiction than mine?  Probably so, as even my fiction title is based on real people!  Can you find a common thread running through your books?  Do yours more often make you laugh, cry, or ponder?  I would LOVE to hear about your list and anything else book-related—this is such a pet topic for me—so please leave a reply.  Let’s talk books!  Tell me: which ones have touched you the deepest?

ALL of you is magnificent,

William

I Can See Clearly Now

DSC_0528“I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” –Flannery O’Conner 

Hello friend,

A funny thing happened on the way to the blog post!  When I sat down to write my usual daily journal entry today, I had not yet decided on my next blog topic.  I figured I would do some brainstorming later in the day.  So, I started to write a pretty basic, humdrum journal entry.  But by the time I finished, I had found a subject that puzzled me enough that I needed to write myself through it until I had a clear idea of how I felt about it.

I have always said that one of the best things journaling has done for me is to give me clarity about how I feel and who I am.  That is exactly what today’s entry did for me; it took a topic that I had kind of a vague notion about and brought it into sharp focus.  So, I think that instead of my usual post to you that gets several re-reads and edits before I send it out, I will share with you directly from my own journal.  I do this not because it is very well-written—indeed, I hope you are able to follow my mind, which I really allow just to go wherever it wants as I write—but because I think this entry is a good example of how clarity can come from the process of journaling.  So, I hope what I am giving you today is a double-whammy: a plug for journaling and also a topic to consider writing about.

I will spare you the more humdrum stuff at the beginning of the entry.  I wrote about my eagerness for Spring and Summer, and about my kids’ first day back at swimming lessons.  Then, as I was thinking about all of the big stuff up ahead with the kids, I started this stream of consciousness:

It is so challenging and fun to be a Dad.  I would have missed out on so much had I chosen to stay single and childless.  I would certainly have gained in other areas and had a great time, but oh, these children provide a totally unique experience that is simply priceless.  I think about Jon and his new relationship with a 51-year-old.  He would be such a great father, but, if this relationship sticks, fatherhood goes out the window as an option.  That saddens me.  This is an awkward thought process, because it seems narrow-minded and judgmental to put a “should” onto someone.  I mean well with it, but I am sure the sentiment wouldn’t be received well.  Where is the line?  Is it that I wouldn’t push the idea on him but would answer honestly if asked.  Hmmm…..  This is starting to sound like a good blog post idea.  Hopefully we are in the era where, no matter what your racial or sexual identity or preference is, you can choose to have a child, whether that is out of your own body, via a surrogate, or through adoption.  So, when someone chooses to not have a child, even if you don’t judge them for it, is it okay to feel bad for them, to believe they are missing out?  Because I am a little sad about Jon probably missing out on this amazing ride called parenthood.  I see how great he is with India and Isaiah and think, “Man, any kid would be LUCKY to have a guy like that for a Dad!”  I guess it comes down to this: I don’t think less of him; I just feel bad for him.  And even though I know that sentiment totally comes from a place of love and good will, I still wonder if it is not being self-righteous to think that.  I suppose it has parallels in terms of religious people who feel bad for anyone who does not believe as they do.  If you feel your religious doctrine is the one true path to happiness and ultimate glory, you would be justified in feeling bad for the people who don’t believe as you do.  I think where the line would get crossed is when you judged them and denigrated them for their beliefs.  Maybe this is more a question about being evangelical about it.  I am not totally sure I am using that word right, but what I mean is that it is probably okay to feel bad for Jon or the nonbelievers, but it would get offensive/inappropriate if I tried to sell them on my belief.  I suppose the question for any type of crusader is: “If I really think my way is the best, don’t I have an obligation to others to sell them on it?  After all, I am only looking out for their best interest.”  I can see how this becomes a slippery slope toward intolerance.  What a fascinating topic!  I suppose to find the middle way here, you need to go on the assumption that everyone has all of the information.  Jon has plenty of examples in front of him, and I have studied all of the religions.  To get in either of our faces with a hard sell would be insulting to both our liberty and our intelligence.  Once you know someone has all of the information, it is to live and let live.  Bless them.  Feel bad if you must, but wish them well and love them.  That is how to be a good human on this earth.  I can see it more clearly now.  I am so grateful for journaling.  It reminds me of the quote that Jen sent me the other day that reminded her of me: “I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” –Flannery O’Conner.  Today is a perfect example.  I love the process and am so grateful for it.  It reminds me why I am so glad I started “Journal of You”: so that others can be blessed by the process in the same ways that I have.  I am a lucky man.  Life is truly beautiful.

There you have it!  That is how my crazy mind works as I write.  As I said, I offer that to you as an example of how you can find clarity in your beliefs—indeed, really learn who you are–through the process of journaling.  It works for me, and I trust that if you give it a chance, it will work for you.

So, won’t you give it a shot?  Pick up your pen and spill some ink.  Let your thoughts run.  Does my feeling bad for my friend cross the line from wishing him only the best to being self-righteous or condescending?  Which of your beliefs or lifestyle choices do you think other people are missing out on?  Is it your religion?  Your political views?  Ideal number of children, if any?  How willing are you to engage others in conversation or debate about your stance?  Is it easier to discuss with or attempt to persuade someone who is close to you (e.g. a family member) or a stranger?  On a scale of 1 to 10, how open-minded are you?  If I asked your closest friends the same question about you, do you think they would say the same thing?  Do some digging.  Be honest.  Lay yourself bare.  Then, leave me a reply.  Tell me about your process, and let me know if you learned anything from mine.  I want to know: can you see yourself clearly?

Happy looking,

William

Are You in a Shadow Career?

DSC_1071Hello friend,

An English Literature professor who always believed he would write novels.  An assistant to a cutting-edge entrepreneur who, deep down, believes that she would be a brilliant entrepreneur herself, if only she dared.  A construction worker whose true calling is to be an architect.  These people have one thing in common: shadow careers.

In the pandemonium of raising two little kids in recent years, one of my deepest passions—reading books—has mostly fallen off of my schedule.  However, two of the titles I that I have finished—The War of Art and Turning Pro—are from the same author, the brilliant Steven Pressfield.  These books are directly addressed to artists of all kinds but very much apply to anyone trying to diligently pursue their true calling.  Pressfield says that we pursue a shadow calling when we are frightened of owning our true calling.  “That shadow career is a metaphor for our real career,” he writes.  “Its shape is similar, its contours feel tantalizingly the same.  But a shadow career entails no real risk.”

This idea of the shadow career really struck a chord in my soul as I read.  Something was stirring.  I knew that I had some internal exploring to do.  It was time to shine a light on the work that I have chosen to call my career and see if it really represents my true calling, or if it is a mere metaphor for my “real career” that I don’t yet have.  Am I in a shadow career?

I teach Tennis for a living.  I have done it full-time for about 12 years.  Prior to that, I bounced around in other pursuits that very much interested me but that ultimately did not sustain.  In my last life crisis moment—when I dropped out of my Ph.D. program and needed to figure out what was next—I kept asking myself what it was that I have always loved to do that also offered actual jobs.  Tennis was my answer.  I had taught it for fun here and there prior to that, never considering it an actual career path.  But at that life moment, there it was.  Something I love that also earns a paycheck—that sounded like the perfect combination.

What I loved about teaching Tennis—indeed, what I still love about it—is that I get to coach.  I get a wonderful boost from helping people take steps towards excellence and personal growth.  I like delivering both the information and the inspiration.  I love the process of figuring out which button needs to be pushed at just the right moment to guide the student to a breakthrough and newfound confidence.  Even as a graduate student, my absolute favorite part of the gig was teaching a couple of discussion classes per week with college freshmen.  I loved leading them and opening their minds to new ideas.  It was a rush.  It is still a rush.  Another thing I love about coaching Tennis is that I regularly get to share in the best part of someone’s day (or week).  I don’t know that many professions that get to say that, so I don’t take it lightly.  I also greatly appreciate that I get to share the first great love of my life—Tennis–with others.  And I get to contribute to people’s fitness and overall wellness, which is enormously gratifying to me.  As I reread this paragraph, I am thinking this definitely sounds like my true calling.  Right?

Maybe not.  Maybe it is really just a great shadow career.  In the months surrounding my 40th birthday—I’m honestly not sure if it was the milestone birthday bringing it on or just the fascinating, inspirational stuff I was reading at the time—I started to really take stock of my life and wonder what I really wanted to do with the rest of it?  Was I really living my calling, or had I missed some signs along the way that were pointing me right to it?  I truly believe that our inner voice—our soul or intuition or the still, small voice, whatever you want to call it—is always communicating with us but that we are often either not paying attention to it or are hearing it but willfully choosing to listen to our logic or our senses instead.  So I started really listening to that inner voice, started looking for its signs.  I noticed when something gave me a big rush or made me feel at home or tingly.  I sensed how reading about or talking to some people totally entranced me, how I was envious of their careers or how they were shaping their world.  And I owned my longings rather than dismissing them.

It was also around this time that I began what I call “The Journal Project”, which was a thorough review of the nearly 50 journals I have filled in my adult life.  The combination of paying closer attention to the inner voice and doing an in-depth life review was totally enlightening when it came to this idea of my true calling.  What I found in both sources was a deep desire to be a writer/teacher/speaker/personal growth catalyst.  Every time I came across an entry in my journals about feeling called to write, I would get tingly all over my body and my hair would stand on end.  The still, small voice was speaking to me.  And it spoke so plainly and so frequently that after awhile, I could not ignore it.  I knew I needed to begin to move in the direction of my dreams.  My first book idea became very clear to me, as did the necessity of starting this blog as soon as possible.  I wanted my mission of helping people to know themselves better and to live more authentically and happily to have a vehicle immediately, even if I didn’t directly have a career in it for a while.

So, what does this say about my beloved Tennis career?  To me it says that it is a shadow career, a metaphor for my “real” career as a writer/speaker/life coach.  It certainly shadows it in many ways: I get to teach and inspire people, to share in their highs and lows while all the time seeking to build their confidence and push them toward growth and excellence.  It is a great job for me; it really is.  But, as it turns out, it just may not be the job for me.

So, how about YOU?  Are you in a shadow career?  Open up your journal and write about your career.  What drew you to it?  Do those same qualities keep you there still?  Are you just collecting a check, or is your work fulfilling as well?  How much is your career tied into your identity?  Most importantly, what do you really want to do?  Is your current career a shadow of that dream job, or perhaps not even in the ballpark?  Be honest: do you think you will pursue your dream?  Why or why not?  Are you playing small because it is comfortable and what you know?  What if you were meant to play a bigger game?

This topic obviously has a built-in challenge: if you admit you are not doing what you really want, you are forced to justify why not and why you aren’t—right now—about to make a move to change that.  Leave me a reply and tell me if you are in a shadow career.  I want to know: are you ready to step into your purpose?  What’s your next move???

Let your light shine,

William