Category Archives: Happiness

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

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

What’s So Good About YOU?

DSC_0437Hello friend,

I’m prematurely gray and wrinkled.  I’m unsocial.  I’m a little too sure I am right all the time.  I need to lose 10 pounds.  I don’t make enough money.  I’m oversensitive to criticism.  I have too much body hair.  I don’t compromise well.  I don’t have much respect for authority.  I wish my teeth were nicer.  I am sometimes short on empathy.  I wish I were a more heralded writer.  My body feels really old and slow compared to even a few years ago.  I tend to unload all of my issues onto my journal instead of communicating with the people who really need to hear me.  I can be intellectually snobby.  I am vain and wish I wasn’t.

It was WAAAAAY to easy to make that list!  On and on I could go.  I am guessing that I am like most people in finding it all too easy to point out my flaws.  We are amazingly quick and adept at finding our weaknesses and shortcomings, ways to make ourselves feel less than.  We might be quick to forgive or look past the same traits in a friend, but with ourselves, we are brutal and relentless.  Why do we do that to ourselves?  Why?

I have decided that my cure for this disturbing self-mutilation is to make a list of the things I DO like about myself.  I want to name and claim the stuff I do well, to really own the parts of me that are worthy of my admiration.  This seems like a much healthier job than pointing out my shortcomings.  So here I go!

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm………………………………………

Okay, this is HARD!!!!  Is it because I don’t want to sound conceited by saying there are good things about me?  Or are there NOT good things about me?  Alright, REALLY—I mean it this time–here I go!

I always try to keep growing and learning.  I trust my intuition.  I mostly march to the beat of my own drummer.  I’m a great Dad (okay, I like that one!).  My schedule reflects my priorities.  I know who I am (thank you, Journal).  Even though my body feels old, I like that I can still hit a tennis ball better than most people.  I tend to choose a good attitude and feel happy and grateful at the end of each day.  I appreciate being relatively intelligent.  My work helps people enjoy and challenge themselves.

Whew!!!  That actually feels really good to put down in words!  A relief!  But also clarity.  What I am discovering as I make these lists is that I actually like myself.  When I look at that list of positives, I see things that tend to be about “who I am”.  With the exception of the tennis and intelligence, what I really like about myself are things that are more internal, that I have chosen, and that can stand the test of time.  I take that to be a good sign.  My negative list definitely has some of those “who I am” things on it—hypersensitivity, empathy, snobbery, vanity—but a lot of it is external, “ego” stuff.  In my moments of greatest wisdom and clarity, I know that things like the paycheck, the accolades, and my rapidly-aging body are not really me.  They are mere window dressing.

My challenge, as I see it, is to focus more on the positive list than the negative.  Of course, I will keep trying to shore up the negatives, especially the ones that are central to my character.  I will try to be a better communicator, more empathetic, and less sensitive and vain.  But I will try to distance myself from the ego stuff and not judge my appearance and outward signs of success so harshly.  Instead, I will embrace the “who I am” items on the positive list and remind myself more regularly of the list.  I will try to give myself more pats on the back, fewer kicks in the pants.

I am guessing that the better I become at seeing the good in me, the better I will be at seeing the good in others.  The more forgiving I can be with myself, the more forgiving I can be with others.  The less I am focused on the outward, ego-driven signs for me, the less I will care about those signs in others.  Ha!  My amazing discovery in this moment is that by focusing heavily on my positive list and mostly ignoring my negative list, I will naturally be solving the issues on my negative list that I really do want to work on: vanity, empathy, hypersensitivity, etc.  What a lovely side effect!  This sounds like a worthwhile assignment to me.

So, what are your best qualities and habits?  What do you like about yourself?  What are you more deserving of a pat on the back for?  Open up your journal and start writing.  If you are like me, this positive list takes some time to come up with.  It starts with giving yourself permission to say you are good at something.  That is hard for most of us, so don’t be surprised if this process brings up some emotions.  Allow them in, and keep writing.  I hope that in the end, you will have enjoyed working on your list as much as I have, and learned as much, too.  Then, leave me a reply.  Tell me, what’s so good about YOU?

Start today,

William

What Makes You Happy?

DSC_0405Hello friend,

Making snow angels.  Running through the sprinkler.  Taking photographs.  Surfing.  Playing “Keep-it-up”.  Building a snowman with my kids.  Skiing.  Visiting my parents and siblings in the house where I grew up.  Writing this blog.  Holding hands with my wife and kids when we are walking somewhere.  Sledding.  Yoga.  Hiking along a mountain stream.  Reading.  Snuggling.  Just being at my family’s lake cabin.  Doing “Steamroller” across the carpet or grass with my kids, just like my Dad used to do with me.  Hitting a tennis ball.  Flying a kite.  Swimming.  Tickling my son.  Writing in my journal.  Having a dinner date with just my wife and talking about our hopes and dreams.  Ice skating.  Paddling my kayak on a quiet lake.  Swaying in my hammock. Working on my book.  Sitting by the ocean. Learning something new.  Teaching.

These are my happiest moments.  These are the activities that bring me the most unbridled, unadulterated joy.  These are the things I am willing to take time out of a busy schedule for, because I deem them to be “Good for the soul”.  They make me feel pure and centered and serene and light and alive and joyful.  They just feel right in every part of my being.

I got to thinking about these activities and the feelings they produce in me.  Does the mere doing of them—and the frequency with which I do at least one of the items on the list—dictate my level of happiness?  I tend to think of myself as the happiest person that I know.  I could be wrong about that, but I think it nonetheless.  In any case, I am happy and don’t want to trade places with anyone.  But is it all about the snow angels and the Steamroller?  Is that enough to explain my happiness?

I decided that what those activities do for me is necessary but not sufficient to justify my happiness.  That is, I need them, but there is more to it.  They certainly produce Joy, Peace, and Love, which, I think, are kind of a deal-breaker trio when it comes to living happily.  But what else does it take?  Is there a short list or equation that can actually explain not just joyful moments, but true, deep, ongoing HAPPINESS?

I checked it out.  One of the most commonly quoted happiness recipes (attributed to a variety of sources) is: 1) Someone to love, 2) Something to do, and 3) Something to hope for.  That sounded pretty good.  The philosopher John Locke went simple with, “A sound mind in a sound body.”  He is onto something there, I thought, if you expound on the “sound mind” part.  Aristotle said, “Happiness is a state of activity.”  That didn’t do it for me at all.  Mohandas Gandhi, who is on the short list of my all-time heroes, said, “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”  I liked that one, too, but I still wasn’t sure I had it yet.  So, I went with one of my other all-timers: my wife.  At lunch today, I asked her what she thought the short list of happiness components should be.  After a moment of thought, she came up with: 1) Contentedness, 2) Self-assuredness, and 3) Peace.  That is a solid recipe (I think I’ll keep her on my all-time hero list!).

With those wise folks as my jumping off point, I decided to take a crack at a simple recipe of my own Happiness Stew.  Here is what I came up with:

  1. As a base, pour in one gallon of Authenticity (a la Gandhi): living your Truth
  2. Fold in four cups of the Connectedness of your choice:, To a Divine Source, To family, To friends, To everything (whether you feel that is Divine or not)
  3. Blend well with an atmosphere of Progress/Growth by continually learning and stretching your limits
  4. Garnish with as many “Good for the soul” activities as you can swallow

Enjoy!  (That should actually be part of the recipe, too.)

Now, what is your recipe for happiness?  Get out your journal, and go for it!  There is no single right answer that applies to everyone, so you have to look deep into yourself to find your unique recipe.  Is it a mix of the ones I mentioned, or none of the above?  Is it way more complicated than I am making it sound?  While you’re at it, process this quote from Abraham Lincoln: “Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.”  If he is right, you have an awesome responsibility on your hands!  Finally, make out your own list of “Good for the soul” activities, the things that make you feel happy at your core.  I would love to hear what you come up with, so leave a reply and get the conversation started.  Trust me, just making the list will put a huge smile on your face.  I guarantee it will be worth your time.  What are you waiting for?

Be happily you,

William