Tag Archives: career

All The Things You Thought You Were (But Really Weren’t)…

“It’s like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.” –Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

“When I discover who I am, I’ll be free.” –Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

I have been on a photography kick for the last year or so.  I have always liked taking pictures and wished I knew more about how to make good ones, but this year I have started to take it more seriously.  I wouldn’t say I’m obsessed with it–not yet anyway–but I am definitely fascinated and absolutely eager to learn everything I can about it.  It’s an artform that I really connect with.  I want to think I have it in me, too.  I would love to one day feel like a “real” photographer, able to create jaw-dropping images of the people and places in my world.  Full disclosure: my current fantasy is not just to feel like a professional; it’s to be one.  I daydream about people hiring me to take their portraits or buying my photos for the walls of their homes.  The thought of it gets me all stirred up inside.

Here’s the kicker, though: becoming a “real” photographer requires not only the talent for it and the time to invest in learning the art and science, but also many thousands of dollars for the equipment to try.

Whoa!  Time to pump the breaks!

I am such a cheapskate!  I can’t stand the idea of spending what little “extra” money I have, especially not while I have people depending on me for food and shelter, not to mention fees for sports and the prospect of college in the near future.  How dare I think of blowing cash on myself?  Especially for something as decadent as multi-thousand-dollar art supplies?  It just feels greedy and irresponsible to splurge on something I can’t even be sure I will make happen.

I mean, it feels right to me now.  It’s giving my belly all the tingles and my brain a flood of fantasies.  I can really see myself doing this and loving it.  HOWEVER—ugh, I hate the however—I know I need to check myself.  I am aware that I have a tendency to get excited about stuff, especially my kind of stuff—adventures, art, physical activity, mindfulness, self-improvement, etc.—and allow my mind to run away with fantasies of an entire lifestyle of whatever that thing is.  I realize that I can get sucked into an Inspiration Du Jour.  I own that.  So when I really get into something new that feels oh-so-exciting and potentially fulfilling, I have to remind myself I have been here before.  A few times.

When I was in my twenties, I read so many books.  I loved books!  But not only did I love them, I thought I should own all of them.  I fancied the idea of owning all of the classics, leather-bound.  I would line my walls with bookshelves and fill them all from floor to ceiling.  And of course I would read them all.  And not just the classics but every book in the genres I was into at the time.  Every sacred religious text, every book of modern spirituality.  Every great work of philosophy and poetry.  Biographies, too, of course, and works of history.   I liked dictionaries and thesauruses, too, as well as books of quotations and idioms.  I wanted them all.

And now?  I am SO GLAD I did not buy them or commit to reading them all!  I would be thoroughly disappointed in myself.  The book collector and nonstop reader idea matches up beautifully with someone who has neither children nor other major hobbies or obligations (like a job!).  I still think it is a romantic idea, and it may be perfect for someone with a lot of extra time, space, and money.  I don’t have any of those things, so it wouldn’t be a good fit.  I never stopped loving books, though.  Now I mostly just get mine from my library’s app, though, and read for a few minutes in bed before I fall asleep.  I thought I was a book collector and devourer.  I was wrong.

That is a lifestyle/hobby example, which is significant. But it doesn’t feel like as big a miss as those involving a career.  I don’t know which category the photography thing will end up falling into, but if it is the career misfire, I’ve already been down that road, too.

About a decade ago, when I was ready to transition out of coaching tennis professionally, I became quite excited about the idea of becoming a life coach.  I had thought seriously about becoming a psychologist when I was in college (and still believe that would have been a solid choice for me), but ultimately I went a different direction.  But what I liked—and still like—about the concept of life coaching over therapy is dealing with “well” folks who aren’t looking to have their problems solved but just need someone to help make the path to their goals more clear and manageable.  They want to go from good to great.  That gets me charged up.  Like therapy, though, life coaching is one-on-one and highly focused on going deep with a person, which suits my personality beautifully.

I enrolled in course work and was fully engaged, doing lots of practice coaching sessions with my classmates and other volunteers.  I found I had a real knack for it and enjoyed being a part of someone else’s progress toward their goals, similar to the reason I loved coaching tennis.  I believed I was making the world a better place, too, which is important to me.  It felt like a perfect fit.  I was into it!  I believed this was going to be a smooth transition into my next career that I would ride all the way to retirement.

NOPE.

It turned out I was missing one important piece of the professional life coach’s toolkit: salesmanship.  Life coaching isn’t covered by insurance, and doctors aren’t sending patients to coaches like they are to physical therapists or other specialists.  There is no pipeline of clients banging down your door once you put your new website online.  These folks are independent contractors, so they have to attract each client to them, convincing them of the value of coaching.  You have to be willing to put yourself out there, strike up conversations with strangers about your skills, have an elevator pitch, and all of that kind of stuff.  And because lots of regular people don’t really know what a life coach even is or what they do, it puts extra emphasis on the salesmanship element.  I quickly realized that no matter how well I thought I could do the coaching, if I wasn’t willing and able to do the selling, I was not going to be a life coach.

STRIKEOUT.

Just telling that story bums me out, because it really felt like the right thing for me.  And not doing it obviously shaped the course of my life in a major way.  I wish I had been right.

I’ve been wrong about less consequential things, though, too.  When I was in my early twenties, I developed a great love for the mountains and camping in the great outdoors.  I was so happy to be out on a hike in the wilderness or sitting by a campfire looking up at the magnificence of the night sky before zipping myself into my sleeping bag in the tent, listening to the sound of the forest as I drifted off with a grateful smile on my face.  I was an outdoorsman!  And I was right about that—hooray!

But then I met my less outdoorsy wife and got busy with little kids in suburbia.  When I believed they were finally ready, I planned an epic family adventure during which we would camp in the spartan national park campgrounds at Yellowstone and Glacier.  We would do it like proper outdoorspeople: prepare our own food outside and sleep in the tent.  I bought all the gear and supplies, as though this was our new lifestyle.  And we all did it!  It was great, our best trip yet.  So of course, I was sure we had just become a camping family.  My wife and kids would be begging for trips to the national parks, and we would know the tent sites and hiking trails all over this beautiful country.  I was thrilled! I would be communing with Mother Nature again and I could pass it all down to my kids.  A legacy of campers!

NEGATIVE.

We haven’t camped as a whole family since, and the gear is collecting dust in the attic.  No one is begging me for more nights in the tent or tough mountain hikes.  I still hold out hope that they will come on another big adventure with me to the Tetons or Sierras, but I have a feeling we will need to rent a cabin or hotel room and eat at restaurants rather than by the fire.  I was wrong again!

I’ve always been fascinated by vision boards.  You know, getting a piece of posterboard and then searching through magazines or the Internet to cut out pictures or words that speak to you about who you want to become.  The resulting collage strikes me as so inspirational and a good reminder of what you are striving for.  I love looking at them.  I’ve never made a vision board.  I bet if I had at any point along my journey, many of the pictures or words I pasted on my board would have been proven flat wrong by the way I have lived my life.  That seems weird to me.  I tend to think most people’s paths are much steadier than mine, much less erratic.

This is not to say I have never been right about who I am and what I ought to do, even if I no longer do that specific thing directly anymore.  I have always been a coach, even if I no longer do it as a full-time job.  Any time I drive by a tennis court at a local park, I still feel the pull to give someone a stroke tip or some encouragement.  Even though I no longer act on stage, I still feel that artform inside of me and would surely be delighted to find some role in a community theatre production when I have the time.  Even though I write these letters to you much less often than I used to or than I would prefer, I still know deep down in my soul that I am a writer and always will be.

Maybe my disconnect is about distinguishing between what I love to do, what I do well, and what I can reasonably sustain as a career.  I have shown a propensity for believing I ought to make a career out of things I love to do, especially if they involve being some sort of artist.  I guess that’s where I am right now with this new fascination with photography.  I know I enjoy it and that it scratches my creative itch.  I know I am eager to learn everything I can about it.  I know it plays into my ideals of setting my own schedule, being my own boss, working alone (in some cases), getting to be outside for parts of the day, and producing something people will enjoy or be inspired by.  All of those things are great.   But can I???  Will I be able to learn enough of the technical skills to become competent?  Am I gifted enough in the artistry of it to make my images worth paying for?  And, perhaps most crucial given my track record with entrepreneurism and salesmanship, do I have the marketing and business savvy to actually create a functioning business out of it?  If the answer to any of these is NO, well, then I am wrong again about the thing I imagined myself to be.

But is being wrong about this actually so wrong?  I mean, if I never become the professional photographer of my recent fantasies, I will still be a guy who loves taking photos.  There are thousands of people who do that as their hobby and are deeply fulfilled by it.  They plan trips around it.  They save their pennies to get new equipment, which is endlessly exhilarating.  They take family photos as favors to their friends.  That is all positive stuff.  It’s a different lane than what I have envisioned, but still beautiful.

Also, and only in this moment am I truly seeing this as a golden truth, just getting excited about being something new and different is its own kind of magical gift.  It’s like falling in love.  There’s that giddiness and thrill of this brilliant novelty that you can’t wait to do everything with.  You generate all sorts of fantasies in your mind about how wonderful it will all be.  The dopamine rush of it all is the best thing in the world.  It’s truly intoxicating.  Does it work out in the end?  Not usually.  Does the disappointment of that hurt so much that you swear you will never do it again?  Maybe.  But is that sheer joy and the anticipation of coming magic worth feeling over and over again?  Absolutely!

So, I guess being wrong about who you thought you would be or what you thought you would be doing isn’t the worst thing.  Sure, it can be disappointing.  And it can be hard to find your way back into balance after striking out on a lifestyle you thought was meant for you.  But think of all that curiosity you get to quell by giving it a shot.  Think of all the different things you can become pretty knowledgeable about.  Think about all the fascinating people you meet by diving into a new space.  Think of the courage you gain by trying something new.  Think of all the things you learn about yourself in that trying, and even in the subsequent “failing” or course-correction.  And definitely think about the privilege of getting to the end of your life with no regrets, no What-Ifs.  That is a priceless gift you can only give to yourself.

I don’t know how many more of these “I think I’m going to be a…” I will cycle through before I die.  Probably several.  I’m guessing most people go through a handful of them in their young adulthood and then fewer and fewer as they age, but I seem to keep churning them out.  Perhaps it means I am just not satisfied yet, that I haven’t found the thing I am supposed to be doing.  Maybe it means that I am incapable of sitting still for long, incapable of being satisfied by any one thing.  I don’t know.  I just get the feeling that I am meant to keep learning and growing and discovering everything I can about this world and everything it has to offer.  One of the hazards of this inclination is that I fall in love quite frequently, with things like psychology, self-discovery, travel, music, journaling, acting, spirituality, tennis, philosophy, writing, the outdoors, movies, books, coaching, and now photography.  And even if I can’t claim to be an afficionado in more than a few of those pursuits, each one has taken its turn filling my life with such magic and inspiration.  Even if they didn’t turn out to be “Who I Am” for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t remove any of them from my journey.  And I can hardly wait to see what magnificent pursuit will captivate me next, even if I’m pretty sure it will ultimately slide onto the back burner.  I’ve been wrong about myself before.  It won’t stop me from diving in again.

How about you?  What are all the things you thought you were but simply weren’t?  Open up your journal and tell your life stories.  What things have gotten your fantasies popping with visions of your future?  What kind of career field have you been pretty sure you were headed into?  Did it start with the “What do you want to be when you grow up?” question from childhood?  What did you believe your future looked like way back then?  What was your job going to be?  What else would you be involved in?  Did you picture your family situation?  How long did you hold onto your childhood fantasies before adapting to the natural changes that come with maturity and adulthood?  How many different career paths have you gotten excited about over the years?  Of those, how many remained only in your imagination, and how many did you actually put some time and effort into exploring?  If you look at your employment history, would you say you have had multiple careers or just one career (possibly with multiple different jobs)?  Are you currently in the field that you once daydreamed about?  How close are you to that?  Has it met your expectations?  If you are not doing what you dreamt of, why not?  Are you still hoping to go for it one day?  Is the thing you wish you were doing a reasonable option or something that would be highly unlikely for someone of your talents and means?  Can you still do something like it as a hobby?  Would that still be fulfilling to you?  What other hobbies or passion projects have you imagined that you would take on?  Have you fantasized about getting into the arts in some way, like becoming a musician or a painter?  Have you dreamt of building things?  Do you see yourself as a someone who volunteers their time for worthy causes?  Have you wanted to be a mentor to someone?  Do you have aspirations to run races or do a triathlon?  Do you imagine your body looking a different way?  Is there a lifestyle change you think would be perfect for you, like traveling or outdoor adventure or a religious commitment?  How many significant changes have you undergone along your journey regarding who you think you are or what you do with your time?  Did you change more often when you were younger, or has your rate of change been fairly consistent over time?  Do you think your lifestyle is more or less stable than the other people in your life?  What do you attribute that to?  If you aren’t fully satisfied with your current lot, do you have any ideas brewing in your mind about what else you might do for fulfillment?  Which ones excite you the most?  How reasonable are the options?  Which are you most likely to take a chance on?  Of all the different ways you have lived to this point, which suited you the most?  What about the least?  Have you been pretty close most of the time?  Do you see each new effort to fulfill a fantasy as a gift—like falling in love is a gift–even if it doesn’t stand the test of time?  Leave me a reply and let me know: Of all the things you once thought you were, how many have you been wrong about?

Keep diving,

William

P.S. If this letter resonated with you today, please share it with your community.  Let’s talk about this stuff!

P.P.S.  If this way of introspection appeals to you, I encourage you to buy my book, Journal of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth, at your favorite online booksellers.

How Many Different Careers Are You Meant For?

“The crowning fortune of a man is to be born to some pursuit which finds him employment and happiness, whether it be to make baskets, or broadswords, or canals, or statues, or songs.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

“I’ve learned that making a ‘living’ is not the same thing as ‘making a life’.” –Maya Angelou

Hello friend,

Writer.  Waiter.  Actor.  Maid.  Tennis Instructor.  Librarian.  Secretary.  Manager.  Laborer.  Teacher.  Personal Trainer.  I could go on if I had to.  I have made money doing all of these things at various times—sometimes at the same time—of my life.  Most of them I have found interesting and have been quite engaged in.  A couple I even thought of as “my career” at the time, and even now when I look back, I might say, “That one was my career.”  But none of them have lasted.  None have had me saying, “This is all I am going to do until I am 70 years old.  I’m good now.”

It seems like the overriding message that our culture sends to our young people is that you go to college (or trade school or whatever) to get a specific degree that will get you a specific job in a specific field, and you are meant to stick in that specific field until you retire.  Get a hobby if you want, but your career—that thing you answered when asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”–is meant to last until retirement.  So, don’t jump ship.  No “mid-life crisis” career changes allowed.  No new callings.  Stay In Your Lane!  I think that works for a lot of people, too.  Most, really.  It just hasn’t worked for me.

I thought I was more or less alone with my wandering eye for new paths, new skillsets, and new areas of expertise (and, frankly, felt pretty ashamed about that across my lifetime, like it made me a quitter).  But a couple of weeks ago, I came across a book called How To Be Everything, and it turns out it is written directly at me.  Or, more accurately, the author seems confident that there are enough people like me that she wrote it for this large, scattered, anonymous collective called us.  I was floored.  She (Emilie Wapnick is the author) calls us “multipotentialites,” but there are other words for us (e.g. “polymath, generalist, Renaissance person, scanner”), in contrast to “specialists,” regular folks who really can tolerate and enjoy doing one thing for the long haul.  I am only a little bit into the book, but needless to say I am quite taken by the idea that a misfit like me not only has peers but may also have something in my wide combination of interests and skills that might even be usefully combined in a career or series of careers that mainstream society could appreciate.  It has me wondering: How many people out there are made for more than one gig, and how many are actually pulling it off?

I am trying to think back on my ancestry and immediate family for clues to my proclivity for multiple passions and interests and inability to settle on just one thing forever.  One of my grandfathers was a lifelong dentist but also was in charge of the family farm, so I suppose that could be something.  My other grandfather managed a lumber yard, but he also liked to build homes on the side and was into the stock market.  My Dad was always a business guy and has been in his same job forever, still not retired yet at 80 years old.  He, too, likes the stock market, but other than reading, I have never thought of him as someone with hobbies.  My Mom started as a teacher very briefly before becoming a full-time Mom, then eased back into the workforce doing some advertising and eventually selling real estate.  I wouldn’t necessarily associate any of them with the “Renaissance person” or “multipotentialite” moniker.  I am quite sure my inability to stay on one track has caused them all some frustration and disappointment along the way, as I am plainly the apple that fell furthest from the tree.  As with most everything else, my siblings are better at staying on the expected path than I am.

Growing up, I always assumed I would be a doctor.  That’s what you were supposed to do if you were smart.  I never questioned it until I was deep into college and started learning a bit about the arts.  Suddenly I felt as if committing to medical school would keep me from exploring anything else I might be interested in.  I decided I wanted to become an actor.  It was completely different in every aspect of my life.  I loved the acting part—the variety of characters to explore was fascinating–but not really the rest of it.  I spent some years just reading nonstop about tons of topics but was primarily interested in religion and spirituality.  I then went back to school, and after some debate between becoming a therapist or a sociologist, I settled on becoming a Philosophy professor and activist.  When I had had enough of that—it didn’t take long—I had a panicked, “Oh my gosh, I am getting old, so what am I going to do for a real career?” moment and decided to go back to the thing that I had always loved but never thought of as a career: coaching tennis.  It wasn’t long into that before I realized I not only wanted to teach but also to be in charge of the program.  That combination of private coaching, group coaching, teams, and then managing a group of people within a large corporation—with budgeting, payroll, hiring and firing, ordering, planning, marketing, and so much more—gave me the kind of variety and challenge that my mind thrives on.

But then I had kids, and—shocker to no parent ever—my perspective changed.  The career was suddenly not so important if it took me away from them.  I gave up the management aspect and just continued the coaching, spending far fewer hours at work than ever.  It was really that change that, as I look back on it now, got me away from feeling like I have a real career and into feeling like I just have a job.  I loved to teach still, and the beautiful uniqueness of each character kept me engaged, but how old can one be and still chase a tennis ball around all day long?  So, I decided to manage a store, the main selling point being not the work but that I could keep being around for my kids for whatever they needed.  I realized I was settling for less than a career I was passionate about so long as it fit into the bigger priority.  When I took my next job at a school, it was the same.  I was willing to be uninspired by my work as long as my bucket got filled in the hours I was not there.

It is hard for me to admit to myself that I am not going for it all, accepting less than having everything up to my standards, being fully satisfied in my work life, family life, and all of my hobbies.  It feels a bit like giving up, which bothers me, but I also know that Life goes in seasons.  I know this time with my kids is fleeting, and giving up some career aspirations in exchange for a completely engaged, no-regrets kind of parenthood is a bargain I am willing to make (though I have plenty of moments when my passions tug at my sleeve like, “Hey, buddy, did you forget about us?”).

It is a good thing that I have so many interests to study and explore, and that each new thing seems to open doors to several new others, making Life an endless maze of discoveries and growth.  I have been writing these letters to you through Journal of You for seven years now, and threw in a book partway through.  I took courses in Life Coaching, which was quite enlightening and inspiring.  Through books, documentary films, and the Internet, I have learned about a wide array of topics that sometimes seem directly connected to the previous thing, sometimes a world apart. I am dying to know more. I am all in on my health and fitness.  Music continues to enthrall me.  My eagerness to be outside and connected to Mother Earth is strong, and my interest in the workings of my own mind remains as strong as ever.  I love to document it all with my pen and my camera.  All of these keep me excited to get up in the morning and deeply engaged until bedtime.  There is never a day that ends with me thinking I had enough time to do all of the things I wanted to do.  Even with a pretty dull work experience.

Because in the end, I understand that it is really about having a satisfying, engaging LIFE.  That is the real goal.  In some seasons of Life, the career part may be deeply meaningful, and hopefully the hobbies and people in my life are, too.  In other seasons, like this one for me, the “career” is just a job and it is the rest of my life that is there to fill my bucket.  I have mostly made my peace with it for now—like I said, I like it when I have everything my way—but I know it won’t be this way forever.

So, what is next?  The one thing I think of as the “career” I had was a tennis coach and program manager.  The other things I think of as jobs along my path.  I guess I am wondering now if the next 20 years or so are going to be about another thing that feels like a “career,” or will I just keep piecing jobs together until I get to the end of the road?  And also, because of my multipotentialite mind, will I ever be satisfied in just one job for very long, or will I need to have multiple jobs at once or a series of short “careers” just to keep my curious mind engaged?  Maybe there is even a multidisciplinary job meant for a guy like me who has a wide range of talents and a need to utilize them all in order to be satisfied.

I think often about my options and my evolving interests.  Just recently my wife bought me a new lens for my camera, and it got me thinking of what it would take to earn a living as a photographer.  I think I would like the variety of subjects and the opportunity to use the artistic part of me.  That is how I think about writing.  I love it every time I sit down to write to you: it’s challenging, it’s different every time, it lets me feel like I am putting something positive out into the world.  It is something I would feel comfortable having that real career feeling about.  I could see that about the Life Coaching thing, too: I felt like it was using my skills to do help a lot of people while satisfying my need for variety and challenge.  I think if I had more years left in my career era, I would consider going back to school for some kind of counseling or therapist training and make a go of that.   My Mom used to say I should be an addiction counselor at a rehab facility.  I can see commonalities in the things I am drawn to: helping others to reach their potential while facing somewhat new and different circumstances and puzzles every day for my mind to find the best way forward.

Who wants to pay me for that?  Anyone?  I know there are jobs out there that would be better suited to me than ones I have done in the last decade or more.  Mine have worked because they were in the mold of my children’s schedules, but maybe I should have been more ambitious or more selective.  I know I have been held back from things like freelance writing or Life Coaching because I am a terrible entrepreneur.  For all of my skills and my great desire to work alone and not be managed by someone else, I am really not good at marketing and digging up business.  It’s a problem that may ultimately dictate the fate of my employment future.  Will I have a job—a career, even—that perfectly suits my talents and my temperament for the long-term?  Will I skip from one thing that interests me until I learn enough about it to become bored and then on to the next thing that interests me, having lots of temporarily satisfying mini-careers?  Or will I just keep doing what fits in my family’s schedule and save all of the meaningful and rewarding stuff for the hours outside of work?  All of those seem like legitimate possibilities at this point.  And honestly, though some look like much more satisfying options than others, I believe that I could live a happy life in any of the worlds.  Not necessarily a happy work life, but a happy life overall.  I have no doubt that no matter which job or jobs I choose to do, my curiosity and thirst for fun and adventure, coupled with the people I spend my time with, will succeed in filling my life with joy and fulfillment.  But hey, why not have it all?  I will work on it.

How about you?  How many different careers are you meant to have over your lifetime?  Open up your journal and think about your working life to this point.  Make a list of all the different jobs you have ever held.  How many felt like just jobs, and how many, if any, have felt like your career?  If you have a career, what is it that appeals to you about your specialization?  Have you always known you would do something like that?  When you were younger and were asked what you wanted to be or do when you grew up, what did you say?  Did that dream career actually fit your personality and talents?  Whether you consider yourself to be in a career or not, what kind of career are you truly best suited for?  Do you have the right temperament to be a specialist, someone who can do the same job day after day, year after year, as most people do?  If that is you, do you make up for the monotony at work by having lots of things outside of work that satisfy your need for variety and meaning?  Now make a list of all the different jobs that you have ever fantasized about doing before you retire.  How different are those jobs from the one you do now?  How different are they from each other?  Would you be able to stick with only one for the long haul, or would you more likely have to cycle through them, either one at a time or doing multiple gigs part-time to sustain your interest?  What are you most looking for in a career?  If every career made the same amount of money, which would you choose from among your talents and interests?  What needs do these fantasized careers fill for you that your current career does not?  Before you retire, how many different twists and turns do you imagine your career path taking?  Is that more or less than you imagine other people’s paths taking?  Would you consider yourself a multipotentialite or Renaissance person?  If not, how far from that are you?  Are there people close to you whose interests and passions vary widely and who feel compelled to pursue them no matter how often that sends them off the career ladder?  Is it harder for you to empathize with a specialist or a multipotentialite?  Are you a big believer in people pursuing their passions as a career no matter what, or do you look at it more practically and suggest people pursue their passions as hobbies outside of work instead?  If you had one more career to choose today and stick with until the end, what would it be?  Does that thought experiment stress you out, or is yours an easy answer?  Leave me a reply and let me know: How winding and disjointed is your career path meant to be?

Live your Truth,

William

P.S. If this topic resonated with you today, please share it with your community.  Let us all explore the beauty of our differences.

P.P.S. If this way of introspection appeals to you, consider buying my book, Journal of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth, at your favorite online retailers.  Namaste.

The Absolute Worst Time To Make A Big Life Decision…Or Not?

“Losing your head in a crisis is a good way to become the crisis.” –C.J. Redwine, Defiance

“Some beautiful paths can’t be discovered without getting lost.” –Erol Ozan

Hello friend,

I was talking with a friend last week—she’s about my age–and out of nowhere, she dropped this bomb on me: “I’ve come into a little bit of money, and I am thinking I might retire.”  She said she would like to relax, travel, volunteer–all of that stuff that we all say we are going to do when we retire.  You know: unstructured and unobligated living.  The dream.  Well, my dream anyway.  To me, it sounds like everything I have always wanted: casual, fluid, free.  The only problem: none of that sounds like her!

In other conversations, she has shared with me how difficult the first months of the pandemic were on her, as that was the time when she was not able to go into her work and have that structure, schedule, and task list that her tightly-wound personality requires.  It was a mental health struggle to be without her job (not the income part).  After reiterating that fundamental aspect of her personality to me numerous times in recent months, you can imagine my surprise the other day she when totally flipped the script with the announcement of a possible retirement.  WHAT?!?!?  I was flabbergasted.   A reasonable guess would have been that she was clinging for dear life to the normalcy and regularity of her career in these wildly uncertain times.  Nope!  Just the opposite.  After explaining herself, she at least showed her self-awareness by asserting that with all of the stressors that our whole society has been flooded with this year—coronavirus, George Floyd, Donald Trump, etc.—she probably has no business making any major Life decisions at this point.

That counterpoint flashed me back to last Autumn, a conversation I had with my niece.  She is a freshman in college, and she was by that point a few months into it and feeling very unsure as to whether her chosen school was really the right place for her.  Not sure about the people, the vibe of the campus, all of that stuff that is crucial at that transformative age that so many of us recall as a life-defining year on our journey of self-discovery.  I remember saying to her, “This is going to come as no comfort to you, but I think you may not get to have an answer to that question this year.  You may go through the whole school year isolated in your dorm room and at socially distanced meals, not going to the parties and club meetings and lecture halls that all of the other college freshmen in the history of college campuses have used to find their crowd and their niche.  You may have to wait a whole year until you can start a “normal year,” using your second year of college to learn what everyone else in history has learned in their first year.  But if it’s any consolation, all of the other freshmen in the world are stuck in this same Purgatory. How can you know if a place is right for you if you are not able to experience it as it usually is?”  I’m sorry to say it, but you may just not get to decide anything big this year.”

I mentioned that conversation to my friend the other day when she was questioning the sanity of her sudden desire to retire.  We both agreed that the crazy extremes of circumstances and emotions this year have left us feeling like our minds are on shaky ground and thus we ought to be suspicious of any major, Life-altering inclinations that flash through them.  It has become difficult to trust our impulses, knowing that everything this year has been “unprecedented”—a word used more often this year than any other—and therefore “not normal.”

We have good reason to think that when we return to that normal—please tell me it is soon—that our inclinations and tastes will probably be more like they were before.  Our current desires to overhaul our lives and the world around us will go from a boil to a simmer, maybe even to a cool.  We will almost certainly go back to the same old, same old.  Our minds and passions will go back on autopilot and cruise control.  We will quickly shush those inner voices that suggest we shake it all up, whether that shake-up is a new job, a retirement, a new health care system, or a new way of policing our cities.  Big ideas will be replaced by small ones again.  Progress, if any, will be by baby steps again.  You remember, the usual.  These impulses—whether personal or societal–that have been allowed oxygen during these “unprecedented times” will crawl back under the rock they emerged from.  If you just ignore them for a little while longer, you will get to that spot where you won’t have to be so suspicious of your inclinations.  You will be safe and boring and uninspired again.  We all will.

But should we ignore them?

What if the lockdowns resulting from the coronavirus pandemic made it crystal clear to you how little time you had actually been spending with your family and how important that time is, making you want to dramatically shift your schedule and perhaps your career path?  What if the economic crisis made you aware of how thoroughly unfulfilling your luxury car or jewelry or fancy whatever is, making you want to sell off some things and simplify, giving more of your wealth to causes that you now see truly need it.  What if the George Floyd and Breonna Taylor stories sparked a sudden realization of your privilege in this inequitable world, stirring up an activist streak in you that you had no idea existed?  What if the Capitol insurrection of January 6th and the exposure of the lies about the election fraud made you wake up to the reality of the damage your political beliefs have been doing in the real world for years, causing you to re-think not only your use of social media and usual news sources but also your political party?  What if all of these cascading crises have actually made things not more fuzzy for you, but more clear?  What if it took all of this to reveal your true values and priorities?

Maybe we haven’t had our foundation shaken but rather just had the artifice scraped off.  Maybe it took all of this drama and uncertainty to make clear who we really are inside and what we want our lives to be truly about.  Maybe all of these “out of nowhere” impulses to change ourselves and our world aren’t really so out of nowhere.  Maybe they have been at our core, our foundation, the entire time, just covered up or blurred by all of the other superficial stuff that we thought we should be doing or the speed at which we’ve been going to try to keep up with all of our commitments.  Isn’t there some quote–or at least a meme–about how life is not about finding yourself so much as it is about uncovering who you always were?  Well, that is what I am getting at.  It’s just so easy to get swept along by “normal life,” with all its busy-ness, and become numb to the signs from our soul about what is truly important to us and what resonates deep in our being.  The panic of a global health scare, the guilt and grief of knowing a loved one is dying alone in a hospital, or the graphic video of one man calmly kneeling on another man’s neck as the life force slowly goes out of him—these things have the power to shake us to a different level and perhaps expose our Truths in a way that we can no longer deny.  Trauma breeds uncertainty, no doubt, but maybe it also breeds clarity.

So, how do we tell which is which?  How do we know if that newfound impulse to switch careers or run for City Council or lead a protest march or have a baby or get a divorce or buy a bookmobile or join the Peace Corps or get a dog–how do we know if these are the insecurity of a totally shaken core talking, and how do we know if they are a finally revealed core talking?  Is there a different sound they make—a resonance—we can listen for to know if this is the thing to reject due to the extremity of the year rather than attend to because it is the revelation of our essence?  How does one feel compared to the other?

Honestly, I don’t know.  That is why I journal every day: to try to flesh it out.  I fill up my pages with the rolling of ideas around in my head, taking them from different angles, ascertaining whether and how the impulse evolves over time, questioning my motivations and scouring my psyche for insecurities or unsatisfied longings.  I attempt to look at myself in the mirror as clear-eyed as I possibly can, hoping to decipher which of these new impulses is an imposter out for a persuasive but fleeting flight of fancy, and which is my Truth revealing itself in a way that my eyes can finally see.

I think my friend is right to be suspicious of her motives for her recent, dramatic shift in outlook on her career.  Not even necessarily the motives themselves—they should be mined for lessons for their own sake—but the sustainability of her motives.  Will they keep when her job goes back to the normal that she loved for so many years?  Maybe not.  I am guessing most of our impulses and temptations from this year will not.  Most, but not all.  Truths have been revealed to us; I am sure of that.  Whether or not we will do a good job of combing through the lot to dismiss the pretenders and find that priceless gem—or whether we even allow ourselves the courage to entertain the new ideas and inspirations at all—is a different matter.  I happen believe in the power of those impulses; I think they are messages from our deeper levels.  There is Magic in there.  Sure, it must be sorted through, but true Magic is worth the labor.  That is where the marrow of Life is.  It is why, when my friend was verbally dismissing her retirement idea with, “Of course, now is the absolute worst time to be making any sort of meaningful Life decision,” I replied with, “Or maybe it’s the perfect time… .”  Maybe.  I am here to find out.

How about you?  Do you trust yourself to make an important Life change at a time of multiple societal crises and a swirl of heavy emotions inside you?  Open up your journal and try to get a sense of how steady your current grounding is to your True North?  Generally speaking, how has your mental health been in recent months compared to other points in your life when things were more “normal”?  How much more grief, anxiety, and sadness have you been dealing with this year?  Have you found your mind feeling more foggy, your senses dulled, or your motivation lacking?  Have you enjoyed things as much as you usually do, or are you one of the many experiencing anhedonia, the loss of the ability to feel pleasure?  Do you like your job as well this year as you have in other years?  Are you as engaged in your work and as fulfilled by your tasks?  With all of that considered, how confident are you in your ability to make the wisest decisions on major Life issues this year (e.g. career or location change, family changes like having a child or getting a divorce)?  How much more or less confident is that than you are in “normal” times—i.e., any time before 2020?  Have you had to make some big decisions anyway, whether you wanted to or not?  If so, how has it worked out so far?  What fresh impulses or ideas have you had in the last year around bigger changes to your lifestyle?  In what area have they popped up most frequently or strongly?  Career path?  Family life?  Health of your lifestyle?  Politics?  Spirituality?  Relationships?  How have these inclinations and impulses been different than what you have felt in other, more stable times in your life?  How do you interpret their meaning?  Do you tend to take these new tastes or ideas seriously and follow through on them, or are you more skeptical of any big idea you have during these unprecedented times?  Which new changes have you made?  Which ideas did you disregard?  Which ones will you keep on your radar until Life settles down a bit and returns to normalcy?  What is the biggest, game-changing decision you have made in the last year?  How has it worked out?  Would you have made the same decision in normal times?  Has all of this crisis, change, and chaos served to make your values and priorities more clear to you?  How will this period change your Life in the long run?  Will you be better for it, or will you carry the mental and emotional scars and be weighed down by them?  If someone came to you now who has struggled emotionally through this period and announces a major Life-changing decision, would you caution them against making such a big move given the circumstances—essentially telling them to wait it out until it is easier to be clear-headed–or are you inclined to think that these times are good for clarifying priorities and are thus a great time to make a big change?  Is your opinion on this different for yourself than it is for the general public?  Leave me a reply and let me know: Is this age of cascading crises the absolute worst time to make a big Life decision, or is it the best?

Take care of yourself,

William

P.S. If today’s letter resonated with you, please share it.  Together we can get through anything!

P.P.S. If this way of self-reflection suits you, consider buying my book, Journal Of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth, at your favorite online retailers.  Namaste.

Job Search: Go For Your Dreams or Whatever Works For Now?

“That’s when I first learned that it wasn’t enough to just do your job, you had to have an interest in it, even a passion for it.” –Charles Bukowski

Hello friend,

I distinctly remember a conversation I had a few years ago with my cousin about his job. We were catching up after years apart, and I asked him to tell me about his work. He described it in very neutral terms, not at all glowing about it but not hating it either. It wasn’t anything he had gone to school for or aspired to, and it didn’t light him up inside. It was just a job. A solid one, though, that paid well enough and had benefits and flexibility and all of that good stuff for a guy with a young family. To sum it up he said, “It’s nothing I’m passionate about, but I don’t think anybody really gets to do their dream job.” I nodded and let the conversation drift to other topics, but as it did, I was quietly dejected and indignant at the same time.

I was sad both because I hated to see this guy I like and admire settle for something that he didn’t love, and because I hated to even entertain the idea that he might be right. I was indignant both because I was sure that he had to be wrong and because I was determined to never fall into a mindset that would let me settle for “whatever keeps the bills paid.”

For all of the emotions that short conversation stirred in my heart–and that I stayed quiet about–I have never been able to forget it. If you have read my book or have been reading these letters for a while, you probably know that I am very much about helping people to find their passion and their purpose and then to pursue those things relentlessly for all of the days of their lives. I think it is of the utmost importance that we immerse ourselves in the activities and the people that fill and expand our hearts and minds. That includes our jobs, where we spend such a large portion of our lives.

That is why that conversation got stuck in my heart. I hated that this deep, talented man was settling for less, but I hated even more that he might be right in asserting that hardly anyone is working in jobs that they love and feel called to do. I was determined that I would not only continue to nudge people to uncover and live their purpose but also that my own career path would align more and more closely with my own purpose as the years passed.

As I look at my present situation, I wonder, “How in the world could I have missed the mark this badly???”

I am in the midst of a job search. Actually, I have been in the midst of a search for a long time now. It started off more casually, as my wife still had a nice job with health insurance and such. But after she left all of that security behind in order to start her own business–and since her company hasn’t quite reached Fortune 500 status in its first several months–there is a sense of urgency about the search that increases by the week.

The thing that I have noticed lately, though–and that I am becoming increasingly alarmed about the more I allow it into my consciousness–is that as the urgency is growing, my standards seem to be shrinking proportionally.

When I started my search, I was idealistic and had at least a shred of confidence. I knew that my resumé was not the most attractive for the kind of job I wanted–basically I wanted to do things that were unlike my previous work experience–but I also believed in my abilities and figured I had enough crossover skills and adaptability that I could learn to do almost anything (e.g. a type of computer software) quickly. I could definitely land a job that, even if it wasn’t my dream job, at least let me use some of the skills that I enjoy using and make me feel like my talents are not being wasted. I just needed an interview and I would convince them I was their man!

Fast forward to the present to find me wallowing in the self-doubt that comes from being ignored by just about every company who seems to have an opening for a position that appeals to me. When I send the resumés out and hear nothing back, that silence eats at my confidence and makes me question my abilities and my career outlook. More and more lately, as I have been scouring the job sites, I have been horrified to notice my eyes wandering to positions I would not ever have considered before. I hear my brain justifying how “It wouldn’t be SO bad,” or “Maybe my back could get used to standing for that long,” and other such dispiriting arguments.

Clearly I am not the same person as the one who was offended by the thought of doing work that didn’t stir my soul but merely paid the bills and was convenient for my family!

But which guy was right: the Idealistic Me who believed I had to be passionate about my job, or the World-beaten Me who is ready to settle for anything that keeps things flowing at home, no matter how uninspiring? Or are they both right somehow, depending on life circumstances? Does my job have to be a perfect indicator of whether I am living authentically and following my passion, or can it just be a job?

When I coached tennis for many years, I loved that I got to share my love of the game with people, that I got to motivate and share life lessons, and that I got to share in the best part of my clients’ days. It was a good job for me. However, I came to realize that, while I loved it, it felt like a shadow career to me (see “Are You In A Shadow Career?”). That is, it looked like what I really wanted to do in a lot of ways, but it wasn’t it. I wanted to write books and give speeches and be a Life Coach. That was my ideal.

When I left coaching and took a job managing a store, I knew it had even fewer elements of my dream job. I, of course, found the parts that made it meaningful to me, but I knew it was not my passion. I did it because it worked well for my family’s needs at the time and allowed me to still give energy to my other passions. It was a compromise I entered into with a clear head, and I knew it was not permanent.

When I started my current job several months ago, it was basically the same deal. It was not related to my passion, but I hoped it would work out for my uncertain family situation (and again, that was a compromise I was willing to make).

Well, as I explained above, the family needs something different now. And now I see myself defining what “the right job for now” is and how vastly different that looks compared to “the right job for me” in my idealistic mind. It is amazing how necessity can twist a person’s standards! Because when I notice how I am thinking about this now, and then I compare that to how I would be thinking about it if my wife had the same salary and benefits as she did last year, the difference is shocking.

I find it interesting to follow the history of my mind on this topic. Regarding which jobs to go after, my level of idealism has taken a steep decline over the years, and I also have a much more complicated view of what “settling” means. As is almost always the case, the deeper I look into it and the more life experience I gain, the more I recognize the answers to be in the many shades of grey rather than so black-and-white. I now think life circumstances have a huge impact on this “Ideal vs. Right For Right Now” continuum. (And yes, I am also open to the idea that I may be conning myself by justifying my failure to live up to my career dreams by claiming that I just did what worked best for my family.)

Another thing that has shifted my perspective was a book by Elizabeth Gilbert (of “Eat Pray Love” fame) called “Big Magic.” I read it last Summer. It’s about continuing to do soul-stirring things throughout your life. In it, she talks about how she had three novels published by major publishers and was still having to work her day job full-time. After years of feeling like I somehow deserved to be making a living with my writing as long as I was working hard at it, Gilbert knocked me back into my place. She made it clear that creative types are not owed work in their art and shouldn’t feel entitled to a consistent income, but rather they should assume that they are just going to continue to have to make the time for their passion projects outside of their “regular job” hours. That was a tough pill for me to swallow, let me tell you. But, especially since it came when I was looking frustratingly hard for work and feeling a little bitter about the whole concept, I did swallow it. I have been more accepting of the idea of getting a “regular job” ever since (even if I still hate it).

In the end, I guess I don’t know what role my next job will play in my life. At the moment, it looks as though it will be this big thing that I will basically just tolerate for years and years. Ugh!! I hate that I even thought that sentence, much less wrote it down as truth. I can’t stand the idea of settling, especially when it is something that takes up so much of my limited time on this Earth. But maybe, as I have discovered over the last few years, settling for a job is not as bad in practice as it is in theory. Maybe, especially if I compartmentalize it well in my mind, it will make the rest of my life easier.

This would be an easier sell if I were not so naturally dreamy and idealistic. (Oh, and there’s also that thing about me never actually wanting a job. I suppose that plays a role in all of this.) I can tell that I will be vacillating on this subject for a long time to come. Welcome to Life: it’s kind of messy here! I will keep working through it, journaling and pondering and journaling some more. That may be the only job I am truly cut out to do!

How about you? Do you have 1) your ideal job, 2) the right job for right now, or 3) something entirely different? Open up your journal and flesh out the role your job plays in your life and how well that sits with you. Describe the things you do for a paycheck. Now think about the things in Life that move your soul, that lift you up, that excite your mind, that get you out of bed in the morning. Do any of the things on that “Bliss List” match up with the things on your Job List? On a scale of 1 to 10, how closely do the lists match up? Has it always been this way, or has your job history moved you at different times closer to and further from your purpose? Has your level of job satisfaction shifted accordingly? How about your level of overall Life Satisfaction? To what extent do you associate your job with your identity (i.e., you answer the “What are you?” inquiry with your occupation)? Are you happier when you do work that is meaningful to you? How important is a fulfilling job, anyway? Is “whatever pays the bills” sometimes the ideal job, even if it doesn’t at all resemble the job you dream about getting one day? Do you have to take a job that looks like your dream job–or at least feels like it will lead to your dream job–in order to be authentically living your purpose and passion? Do you have a clear idea of what “settling” looks like to you? Where are you now in relation to that? How does that answer sit with you? In five years from now–and ten, twenty, and at retirement–do you believe that you will be doing something closer to your dream job than you are today? For the creative and entrepreneurial among us, should we be content with doing a “regular job” to keep the bills paid and then squeezing in our art or our side hustle at night and on lunch breaks, or should that thought torture us until we are so determined to “succeed” in our passion that that we somehow make it into gainful employment? Is there anything wrong with working purely for the money if it lets the rest of your life (family, hobbies, stress levels, vacations) run smoothly? Overall, how tolerant are you of work that does not move you in any way that is not financial? Leave me a reply and let me know: What is the role of your job in your life?

Light your world,

William

 P.S. If this letter resonated with you today, please share it with your social media community. Let us live our authentic Truths together!

Grading Your Year: A Personal Report Card for 2017

“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.” –Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Hello friend,

The year 2017, as told through the screens on my phone, tablet, computer, and television, was just about the most absurd, infuriating, and demoralizing year imaginable. I had the feeling so often this year that, if we were being studied from afar by alien scientists, they would report that we are clearly devolving as a species, degenerating into a lower state of intellectual and moral being. I suppose there are plenty of “Year in Review” types of shows airing this week, but I don’t even dare to watch. I don’t much care to relive anything that people were talking about this year. It was pretty darn awful out there. I fear that if I admit to just how awful or try to delve into it, I will make for a most depressing companion at the New Year’s festivities. No, I think I will pass on assessing the great big world this year.

But how about my personal year in my little corner of the world?

That doesn’t seem nearly as depressing or daunting a task. After all, as I sit here in these final moments of the year, I still have a smile on my face and a mind eager enough to learn and grow from the lessons this year has provided. It helps, I know, that I process it every day in my journal, so I have some sense of how my report card will come out–I guess I can sense it was not all rainbows and butterflies, but I know it was one I would not trade, either–but I am open to being surprised by my assessment of the various aspects of my existence and how they were shaped by the events of 2017.

Hindsight has a way of casting a new light on things, dusting off some of the emotions and baggage of the moment and revealing its true essence and its value in the grand scheme of our lives. I think I am due for some of that clarity after what has been a most unusual year in the History of Me.

So, how did I do?

Well, maybe it is healthy to admit to a failure right from the start. I know I deserve an “F” in the Finances/Career departments. I was horrible at that from start to finish, truly. Starting the year out having just lost my job last Christmas was certainly a harbinger of things to come. I struggled to find my way all year into something that both paid the bills and met my family’s other needs. Though I have tried to maintain my general positivity and my big picture perspective through it all, I admit to falling into moments of shame, frustration, and disillusionment regarding my aspirations and failings on this front as the year passed. I have chastised myself for both my failings as a breadwinner and my weakness in allowing those failings too much control over my emotions. So, definitely an “F” here.

Another thing I did not do very well with is my Friendships. It is true that as an unsocial and introverted cat, this has never been my strong suit. So, it isn’t as though I had a very high standard from which to judge myself. However, I found myself thinking more and more as the year went on that this is an area I want to do better with: both in making new friends and in staying well-connected with my old friends. Truth: I didn’t do very well with either. I am most disappointed in myself for doing a poor job of keeping up with my best friends, letting too long pass between visits and calls. Maybe a “D” here. Not good.

Okay, this report card is not looking so good at this point! I must have done something well….

How about Family? Yes, the family stuff was quite good this year on the whole. Though I again did poorly with calling my siblings and parents, I made a bigger effort to travel to spend time with them. That was immensely rewarding, both for me and for the children. Speaking of the children, the one thing I think I do consistently well is fatherhood. That was the case this year; we have had a great time, and my relationship with each kid is strong and loving. I wish I could say I did as well as a spouse, but I consistently fail to live up to my expectations there. Still, I have had fun with my wife and have tried to be supportive while enjoying watching her grow and blossom in her new endeavors. All in all, a good score here (let’s say “B+”).

As for my Health, I am grateful to say that I would give that a “B”. There are reminders everywhere of how dramatically one’s quality of life diminishes when health problems arise, so I feel quite blessed that my issues this year have been small. I have had little nagging injuries that have kept me from some activities, but no injury has shut me down entirely. As a guy who needs to be active to remain sane, I will take that as a blessing.

Looking back, I realize that I did not do quite as well as usual with my Spirituality, which also dictates my Psychology. I seemed to be less mindful during the day, less aware of the beauty and wonder of the Divine all around me. With that, I was somewhat less grateful than normal, having fewer of those bowled-over-and-humbled-by-the-absolute-magnificence-of-the-Universe moments than I am accustomed to. I have long believed that Gratitude is the mother of Happiness, so maybe I was a bit less happy this year than my usual state of Bliss. I can make lots of excuses for this distraction from my spiritual home base–joblessness, financial strain, self-induced pressure to finish my book, etc.–but the fact is that it is under my control, and I did not live up to my high standards this year. I would say “B-“.

As someone who spent all of his school years as a “Straight-A” kind of guy, these grades for 2017 are not looking very good to me. There is a ton of room for improvement! And though I am definitely disappointed in myself on multiple fronts, there is something that sneaked into the picture late in the year that softens the blow and even puts a smile on my face.

Is there a spot on the report card for “Fulfilled a Lifelong Dream”? If so, I want to give myself an “A” there. While I had worked on it for years, it was only in this year when I truly devoted my focus to not just working on the book but finishing it. It had been my biggest goal when 2017 started, and I felt the weight of that as Autumn came. The clock ticked loudly every day, and fears and doubts screamed at equal volume. But I reminded myself that, coming into the year, the way I said I wanted to feel all year was BRAVE. On I went. Then, finally, it was done.

Of course, there was relief for being finally finished, and there was excitement about seeing my creation out in the world. But the best part was the feeling it gave me way down deep inside, in a place that I would venture to call my soul. I guess I would describe it as feeling “solid” there, like a deep confidence at having done something substantial toward my life purpose. My foundation was cemented. That is quite a feeling. I hope that you will feel it one day if you have not yet. It will change your world.

I know that this effort and its incalculable reward came at the cost of some of those low grades in the other categories. And though I certainly wish they weren’t so low–I like to have my cake and eat it, too–I have to admit that, in the end, doing the work of my soul and cementing a foundation piece of my purpose made all the sacrifices worth it.

2017 was obviously not the year in which I sparkled across the board. It was, however, the year that I built a lighthouse, one that will keep on shining, providing me with a guide during the many storms that the coming years are sure to bring. I am at peace with the sacrifice and grateful for the light. Bring on 2018!

How about you? How would you grade your 2017? Open up your journal and ponder all of the various aspects of your life over the last year. Even before you dissect each one, how do you feel, generally speaking, as you sit here at the end of your year? Satisfied? Relieved? Stressed? Elated? Indifferent? If you had to describe your year in a word, what would it be? Okay, now look at the different areas of your life and build your report card. You can just go category by category, or you can start with all the good or all the bad. How was 2017 for your job and career path? Closely related to that, how was it for your finances? Better or worse than your expectations? Why? Did it have more to do with things under your control or out of your control? Did you remember that you are in charge of your attitude no matter what the circumstances were? How well did you choose that attitude? Okay, how about your friendships? Were you as good a friend as you want to be? Where can you do better? How about family? How happy were you with your relatives this year? Did you strike the right balance of time with them: enough to deepen your bonds, not so much to drive yourself crazy? How was your health and fitness this year? Did your body hold you back from doing things that you wanted to do? What grade would you give your spiritual life this year? How about your psychological state? Were you grateful? Did you feel connected? How much awe did you experience? Okay, big picture: how does your report card look? Do your scores in those main categories make it seem like a good year, or not so much? Now consider this: was there something else–some bigger event or accomplishment–that overshadowed the main categories and colored your view of the year, either for the good or the bad? Perhaps it was a major personal achievement that brightens the rest–like me with my book–or perhaps it is something like the death of a loved one, which darkens the rest. Now that you have considered the categories and graded your year in each, what grade would you give the year as a whole? Was it twelve months that you would gladly relive, or are you eager to move on? Leave me a reply and let me know: How does your report card for 2017 look?

Make each moment count,

William

P.S. If this resonated with you, please share it. Let’s make LIFE together!

P.P.S. You can find my new book, Journal of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth, at http://www.amazon.com/author/williamrutten and many of your other favorite booksellers, including barnesandnoble.com and iBooks.

The Head vs. The Gut: Who Do You Trust?

“All the world is made of faith, and trust, and pixie dust.” –J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Hello friend,

My wife officially announced this week that she is quitting her job in one month. This is the job that has kept us fed, sheltered, and health-insured for the last 15 years. Does she have another job lined up? She does not.

Meanwhile, I have yet to find that perfect opportunity I have been looking for to make my return to gainful, “real world” employment.

We have two kids, a mortgage, car payments, utilities, and all of the other bills and obligations that make up life in modern America.

Reason dictates that I should be freaking out right now. My stress level should be through the roof. I should have insomnia, high blood pressure, and panic attacks. I should be wetting myself in sheer terror at the great unknown before us. I should be fretting nonstop about the future. I should be pleading with my wife to stay in her safe, solid, insurance-covering job until we both have new ones lined up. I should be reminding her about all of those bills and painting vivid images of worst case scenarios: us homeless, penniless, and forever saddled with “pre-existing conditions”. I should be getting her to freak out with me. I really ought to be blowing my top.

I’m just not.

I wish I could say that the reason that I am not panicking is because I am the flaky, flighty artist type, never in touch with the reality of things like payment deadlines and lapsed coverage. I wish I could tell you I am not freaking because we have done so well at investing over the years that we really don’t need to work; we just do it for social reasons. I wish I could say that I am so elevated spiritually at this point that money does not matter to me.

Any of those reasons might provide me with a logical explanation of why I feel not only unstressed about our family’s financial future but also downright excited and utterly optimistic. Those explanations would give me a rational way to unpack this unbridled confidence I feel bubbling up from some unknown source deep inside of me, causing me to feel an almost uncontrollable eagerness to learn what is coming up next for us.

But those are not the explanations. Sure, I definitely have some flaky artist in me, but I can be as practical and responsible as my parents taught me to be when financial obligations are involved. And, sad to say, we were not one of the early investors in Apple or Microsoft, so that nest-egg explanation doesn’t suit the situation, either. Finally, as spiritually evolved as I like to think I am on my best days, there is no world that I have yet found in which money is not important.

No, if the answer to my serenity and confidence in the face of this potential catastrophe were a logical, rational thing, I would be there already, secure in my understanding.

But there is nothing logical about this.

A rational guy would be outwardly supportive of his wife when she tells him she is quitting her bread-winning job without securing a new one, but inside he would be having a coronary. A logical guy might say, “Well, I’ve been waiting for the perfect job description to fall into my lap for a long time without success, so I am just going to be practical and find whatever will put food on the table.” A rational guy would sense the urgency of the situation and figure out a solution immediately to avoid risking a financial disaster for his family.

Try as I might to summon my most rational, practical self, my system is not letting it in. The panic, the terror, the desperation: I am trying to conjure them, but they are just not coming. They should be here, though. It just makes sense. What gives???

It’s my gut. Call it what you will—instinct, intuition, sixth sense, the still small voice, a feeling—but mine is telling me that everything is going to work out fine. And not just fine, but amazingly well. My intuition tells me that we are on the verge of something even better than we have ever had. Something that keeps those bill collectors off our backs while filling our lives with meaning and inspiration. Yes, despite all evidence to the contrary, my gut assures me that good things are on the way.

So……..is that cool, then? Is that really an acceptable answer? Just trust my intuition and act accordingly. Really???

I know that sounds perfectly courageous and correct in the New Age-y, “Leap and the net will appear” kind of way that we are all supposed to arrive at when we become enlightened, but I have to admit that I have wondered more than once: What if my gut is fooling me?

Seriously, what if all this wonderfully calming news from my gut is really just Denial? What if the truth is that I am not tough enough to face the harsh reality of our situation, so my Subconscious or Unconscious mind has decided to disguise itself as my Intuition delivering this pacifying news?

And of course I am buying it! Because it feels good to believe that this is not the crisis a rational person would recognize it as. In fact, it’s the opposite of a crisis; it’s a fountain of good fortune for all involved. That is so much more pleasant to believe! Denial is slippery that way.

As much as I appreciate the sweetly narcotic effects of Denial, however, in the end, what I really want is the Truth.  

Is my intuition right: Are we really on the verge of our greatest thing yet? Or, is the rational bystander in my brain correct: Are we in dire straits and in need of desperate, immediate action?

Is there any way to know which is correct but to pick a course and commit to it, knowing only that the answer will be revealed later? If that is the case, I have to review the evidence. My intuition has been screaming at me every day lately after my brain has spelled out our impending doom in my journal. The instinct has been consistently firing back with feelings of hope, optimism, and belief, as well as an extra little tickle in my heart that gives me the impression that there will be something extra-special involved. I absolutely LOVE that feeling!

That’s it: I’m going with the gut. I trust it!

How about you? Are you more inclined to trust your brain or your intuition? Open up your journal and think back through your toughest decisions and most difficult periods. Which part of you did you trust to lead the way? Are you more inclined to trust your reason and careful analysis? If so, do you make Pros & Cons Lists? Do those lists ever make room for emotion or intuition? Do you think careful consideration and logic are the only way to determine the best course of action? Does it depend upon the type of situation (i.e. maybe the intellect is better for financial decisions but the intuition is better for relationships, or vice versa)? Does trusting your intuition over your rational view of your circumstances really just amount to a denial of reality? At what point is that unhealthy? How often does your head overrule your instinct? Is it possible to overthink it, though, and neglect what your gut is shouting out to you? How about the other way: ignoring reason and doing what your instinct nudges you to do? Is there any way to know ahead of time which part of yourself to trust, or do you have to wait and see how it plays out before you know if it was the right call? Which type of people do you gravitate toward, the analyzers or the intuiters (yes, it’s a new word)? If you had to give yourself a percentage rating (e.g. 70% Head/30% Gut), what would it be? How has that changed, if at all, through the course of your lifetime? Do you wish your rating were different? In which direction? Try to think of the most pressing issue in your life now or in the foreseeable future. Which part of yourself will you lean more upon? How well will you trust your decision? Leave me a reply and let me know: In the battle for your trust, do you go with the head or the gut?

Believe in your gifts,

William

P.S. If this resonated with you—whether intellectually or instinctually–please pass it on. Trust yourself!

What A Difference 10 Years Makes! Revisiting Life A Decade Ago

“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” –Robert Frost

I have been fighting off a lot of yucky feelings and negative self-talk this week. You know those feelings. They are always lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce when your defenses go down. I usually have mine up. My defenses are 1) my attitude of gratitude, 2) my optimistic view of the future, and 3) my big dreams. When these things are intact, all is well in my world. I am sunshine and happiness. That is my normal mode.

This week, though, I have been dealt a few blows that have threatened my usual sunny outlook. Things just haven’t been going my way. My car needed a major repair. Then the furnace went down and needed to be replaced. The taxes brought their annual drama. Amidst all of this extra financial pressure, I have been beating my head against a wall trying to get my dreams going and figuring out the next source of income for my family. The weight on my shoulders feels like it has suddenly multiplied.

These simultaneous setbacks and struggles have created a storm inside my head. I have been all sorts of things I don’t want to be. Worried. Confused. Self-pitying. Stressed. Unsure. Pessimistic. Fearful. Doubtful. Disappointed. Defeated.

Yes, it seems I allowed my circumstances to ignite a pity party in my mind, and then I realized that the party had gotten a bit loud and out of control.   I needed an intervention.

One of the strategies that the self-help gurus often suggest for people facing some kind of drama or dilemma is to ask yourself, “Will this even matter in X number of years?” (you fill in the X: five years, ten years, twenty). Supposedly, that helps to put the problem in perspective, perhaps revealing that it is really no big deal at all.

So, I wondered: Would this little moment I am having now—this crisis of dreams, career, and finances—even matter ten years from now? Will I remember it? Or will it be just a minor blip on the radar?

Maybe Life is just a constant flow of these moments, some just less stormy than others, but all of them basically just blips, not so much blow-ups. Or maybe not.

I decided that I needed some perspective. Luckily for me, I have a few big storage tubs full of perspective in my storage closet. My journals. They are all there: keys to the past just waiting to be turned. I searched through the stacks to find the one that contained my daily entries from ten years ago at this time—Volume 36—to see what I was up to, how stressful and dramatic it was, and if it all even mattered in the end.

What did I find? Stress. Drama. Exhaustion. Happiness.

Ten years ago this week, I was in the middle of making a big decision about which of two job offers to accept at the company where I worked. I was also studying and taking some important exams for my career. There was also a lot of political drama going on at work that I was forced into the middle of. And in the background of all of that was a very real struggle to become a parent (which all by itself would have been stressful and dramatic enough). In between lots of visits to doctors’ offices in our quest to become pregnant, my wife and I were also interviewing to adopt a child.

Some excerpts from those days in late April of 2007:

Is my body supposed to be this sore so early in the week? My goodness!……I am wiped!….It is coming down to it on the job thing……There is so much to do every day. No wonder lifetimes just zip by and roll together. I will blink and be 50. It is crazy. I am happy, though, always happy. It is good to be me. La vita é bella.

 After all of this rollercoaster nonsense, I am actually pretty excited about it. I hope that it goes well and that I can report some good news in my next entry. I am optimistic. Come what may, I will be happy.

I accepted the job tonight. ….So, on we go. I hope it is tons of fun. I am excited about it. New challenges. It will be that. This week has tapped me. …It is a mad, mad world. The beat goes on. I am so very blessed. Life is beautiful.

Who ever thought there would be so much to do in this world? I really do not like being crazy busy, but it has certainly been that way in the last several years. …The extremes are there. I would love to get some balance. Some day. I am alright. I am Love. I am Joy. I am Peace. Life is beautiful.  

I am no fan of these political battles… I am optimistic. ….I am excited for the challenge. They never seem to be in short supply. …Let’s cross our fingers. Good things will come.

It is a busy time in the world. … What an adventure lies before me!. ….I am always optimistic. Good things are coming our way. Blessings abound. Life is beautiful. 

Whew! I really was running around like a crazy man in those days! Working long hours, and every day of the week. Stressing hard about my job. Basically, I was a workaholic. Thank goodness for a supportive and understanding wife! The only other saving grace was my attitude and worldview. Despite my circumstances—which I would not recommend to anyone—I remained so grateful and optimistic. So happy. I am pretty impressed by that (if I do say so myself!).

What can I learn from those days that will help me now? Is there really a gift of perspective?

On the one hand, I made it through that drama, which should give me hope that I will make it through my current crisis. On the other hand, that moment was not nothing. Those decisions and actions were important and had long-lasting effects.

Of course I survived, and I would have survived whatever came. But things could have gone in different directions had I acted differently, and especially if my attitude had been different. I could have let the pressure and the exhaustion get to me. I could have been less diplomatic at work and ruined my opportunities. I could have let the pregnancy/adoption stress drive a wedge between me and my wife. I could have given up on lots of things when it got so hard. I could have failed to enjoy it and be grateful for it all. I definitely could have made it worse.

So, is this current dramatic moment something? Or is it nothing? It certainly feels like something to me. It feels like there is a lot riding on the coming days. It feels like much could change in my story and the story of my family depending upon the way this all shakes out.

Does that give me any specific direction on my next action? No, not really. But what it does give me is a reminder of the importance of my attitude and outlook. I need to take a lesson from that guy I was ten years ago. No matter how uncertain or contentious things get, I need to be grateful for the wonderful blessings all around me. And I need to be optimistic and excited about what the future holds. I know that will help to guide my decisions to the outcomes that are best for me.

Ten years from now, I hope to look back at this moment with complete gratitude and wonder at what a magnificent life was brewing in the middle of this divine storm. I hope I will be proud of the way I rose to the challenge and acted with courage, kindness, and integrity. The lesson, after all, will be decades in the making.

How about you? What did your life look like ten years ago? Open up your journal and your memory. What was going on with you a decade ago? How old were you? Who were the most important people in your life? What kind of work were you doing? Were you heavily involved and connected with your job? Too much so? Where were you in relation to your dreams? How would you describe the state of your spirituality? How tired were you? What were the biggest issues you were facing? Did it feel like a lot of drama or crisis at that time, or were things flowing smoothly? How happy were you? Describe your attitude at that time. Were you grateful? How optimistic were you? Looking from today’s eyes, what can you learn from you and your life of a decade ago? What were the things you did then that have carried over and shaped your life today, for better or worse? Now answer all of the questions above as they relate to your life today. Do you prefer today’s version of you and your world, or would you take yourself back a decade if you could? Which parts would you do just the same again from that time? What would you change then to shape a better today? What is your biggest regret from that time? What was the best thing you did for yourself ten years ago? What can you do for yourself now that you will thank yourself for in ten more years? Leave me a reply and let me know: What can you learn from a look back at yourself in 2007?

Enjoy the ride,

William

P.S. If today’s letter resonated with you, please pass it on. We are here to teach each other.

What Are You Willing To Struggle & Suffer For?

dsc_0435“You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it.” –J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Hello friend,

I was talking recently with an entrepreneurial friend of mine whose new business is failing. She was wrestling with different options for how she might save it, or whether just letting it go was the best choice. It is a horrible spot to be in, to have to consider giving up on something you believed in and very much wanted to succeed.

I am not very good at advice—I tend to think people are the experts on their own lives–so I don’t give it often. Instead, I usually just ask them questions. My hope is that my questions will help them think more clearly about their situation so they can come up with the answer on their own that feels right with both their brain and their gut. I think that when you make your own decision rather than just doing what someone told you to do, you are more likely to take responsibility for the result. There is no one else to blame.

So, when she asked me what I thought she should do, I had no sure-thing strategy or any story about the times when I have had to make a similar decision. The only thing I had was a question.

Is it something you are willing to struggle and suffer for?

In other words, is it so important that this dream succeeds that you are willing to make big sacrifices—your time, money, emotions, etc.—to see it succeed?

Let’s face it, we all want our stuff to succeed. You want your new business to flourish. You want your relationship to be healthy, happy, and lasting. You want to make more money. You want to go on vacation next year. You want work that is meaningful and fulfilling. You want to be fit and healthy. You want to be self-aware. Right?

But which of those things are you ready to truly sacrifice for? The proof is almost always in the pudding.

A couple of years ago, I wanted to begin the transition out of my career coaching tennis. I knew that if I had a gun to my head, my answer for what I really wanted to do was be a writer. However, my confidence for achieving tangible success (i.e. a regular paycheck) doing that was low, so I was open to other avenues. But those avenues had to work around my kids, because giving my time and energy to them was my true top priority. I started taking classes to become a Life Coach, which sounded like a career right up my alley: fulfilling and flexible. I took a job out of tennis that wasn’t fulfilling but kept money coming in while meshing perfectly with my kids’ schedule. And I kept writing.

While in pursuit of the coaching avenue, a business opportunity doing something I wasn’t interested in was basically handed to me. I made a deal with myself to give it the minimal amount of time and effort to see if it would “magically” produce clients and dollars, crossing my fingers and hoping to strike it rich, at least until it no longer made financial sense to keep the experiment going. And I kept writing.

So, basically I had a job and three things I wanted to work out (under the condition that they let me be with my kids most of the time). That’s not asking for much, right?

What happened? Well, it was pretty straightforward. With the business that I didn’t care about, as soon as it looked like I had to work and get uncomfortable to turn a profit, I pulled the plug. Because I knew my conditions for that one going in, I was at peace. The next one to fall was the Life Coaching training. That one was much more painful to let go of, because it really would be both fulfilling and convenient as a career for me. And I loved it. But it would be a lot of work. More classes, trying to scrounge up clients from scratch, marketing, etc. Struggling, scraping, sacrificing, and suffering. If it was the only horse in the race, I would have kept at it.

But there was the writing thing. That was the longest shot of all of them, the one with the most uncertainty, most likely to fail, most difficult to gain steady employment, and generally most tormenting of all (as creative ventures are prone to be). I would have jettisoned all thoughts of a writing career, except for one small detail: my heart was set on it.

I knew with what little time I have when I am not at my regular job or busy with the kids, I simply could not attempt to press on with the Life Coach training and the writing simultaneously. Push had finally come to shove, and, as I said, the proof is in the pudding. The writing is all that remains. It is the only career-related enterprise I seem willing to struggle and suffer for.

There are bigger tests to pass with it, though, as it won’t be long before I will have to challenge myself to replace my safe day job with some form of actually being paid to write. It remains to be seen how much I will be willing to sacrifice, how much I will compromise, and how stubbornly I will take a stand for “writing or starvation,” as it is much tougher to be principled when there are other mouths to feed.

Will I truly be willing to suffer for my writing, or will time bear out that I only really like the idea of being a writer but not the actual writer’s life and work? Inevitably, the proof will be in the pudding.

The only other area of my life that I have shown the willingness to make sacrifices to make it work is mentioned above: that demand to spend my children’s childhood with them rather than consumed by work. Before my daughter was born, I was in a position of some authority and made a comfortable amount of money. But I worked a ton. If I had kept that schedule, I would have hardly seen her or her future brother. So, I stepped down, taking a lower position and a much lower paycheck. But I staked a claim to my schedule. I have hardly compromised it in the eight years since.

And yes, I have wanted to make more money in those eight years. And I have wanted to go on vacation. But I haven’t been willing to do the necessary struggle and sacrifice for the money or the vacation, because that would mean compromising the time with the kids. The proof in the pudding, see?

So, I guess I have two stories for myself. I would say I am passing the test on the kids priority, not just saying I want the time but actually struggling to protect it. But I am willing to say that the jury is still out on the writing priority. I want to think that it is a done deal, that I will make all necessary sufferings and sacrifices for it and will go down swinging rather than compromise again, but that test has not been completed. I feel it coming to a head very soon and am gathering my strength and resolve for it.

But I also have the sneaking suspicion that these tests are never completely passed, that we have to step up to them and stake our claim over and over again as we continually define who we are in this life. I think sometimes we ignore them, though, and go sleepwalking through our little worlds for a while. But other times, the battle lines are crystal clear: you know the very value of your life is on the line, how hard it will be live it the way your heart knows you should, and that this is the moment of truth. I feel one of those crystalline moments approaching in my life. It is scary yet exhilarating, this opportunity to define myself by laying claim to what I value. I go willingly into the struggles. En garde! 

How about you? What in your life is so important that you are willing to suffer and struggle and sacrifice for? Open up your journal take a look at the pudding. What does the way you live your life say about the things you value most? First, it might be more helpful to begin with a rundown of the things you think you value or say you value. What are they? Now take a look at your history. What are the things, at different points in your life, that you have genuinely struggled for? As you look back now, how did those struggles shape you? Do you still value those things that you once struggled so hard for? What about now? Is there anything in your life right now that you are making the big sacrifices for, grinding so hard in the service of something you value so highly? What are the sacrifices and struggles and sufferings? How sure are you that it is worth it? Is it worth so much to you because of the struggle or in spite of the struggle? Okay, so now compare what you said you value with the things you are actually sacrificing for, if there are any? Do your mouth and your actions tell us different stories? Are you prepared to do something to correct that? Is there something in your life—a long-held dream, perhaps—that you want badly but have simply not had the courage to pursue because of all of the struggle and sacrifice involved? What small step can you take today in the direction of that desire? I dare you! Leave me a reply and let me know: What are you willing to struggle and suffer for?

Let your life be your message,

William

P.S. I hope you really climbed inside yourself on this topic, as I know that for me, that good, hard look in the mirror is so helpful, even if difficult. If it helped you, I hope you will share today’s letter with your world. Go and grow!

Free Time: Imagine the Possibilities!

DSC_0042“If you’ve got the money, honey, I’ve got the time.” –Willie Nelson

Hello friend,

A week ago, I came up with a wonderful new idea to write a book about. I was so excited! Immediately I started brainstorming and working on an outline. Next I had to do some hard bargaining with myself as to whether I am willing to temporarily suspend the other project I am working hard on now, a project that means so much to me. But this new idea is time-sensitive and must be addressed now. As I started to buy into the new project more and more and got to the point of committing to write the book, it suddenly struck me: How am I every going to find the time to do this?

 Sneaking in a few tired minutes of writing at the end of a full day of work and kids is not the way to take a deep dive into a topic, not to mention finding the artistic inspiration to make it all come out right (trust me, I’ve tried it many times!). I need several hours in a row of focused work for days and days on end. Hmmm. Those hours don’t seem to exist in my upcoming calendar of events. If I want to sleep at all, I simply don’t have the time.

This is when my escapist fantasies begin. These daydreams typically come in bunches over several days—usually a few different times per year–when I get really excited to take on a new project and then am hit with the reality of my schedule. Usually these fantasies take the form of me winning the lottery and never having a care about money again. That, of course, means I would never have to hold a job ever again. That, for me, would be absolute BLISS.

I always thought this extreme anti-job thing I had was that I simply didn’t like working. I mean, hey, who likes working, right? I just thought I had an extreme case of it. I have marveled about this many times in my journal, wondering how I got so spoiled. Lately, though, I have realized something about myself. I realized that, more than anything else, I just don’t like to work for someone else. I don’t like my work polluted by other people’s agendas, and I don’t like to be told what to do and when (and certainly not how). Simply put, I have never, EVER wanted to hold a job. That is, until the day I realized I just wanted to be my own boss.

I want to work—I’m dying to work—on my own projects on my terms. I want to choose the things I take on and how the work is performed. For those conditions, I am willing to work hard every day until my life ends. I don’t need retirement because I love what I choose to do.

So, it turns out I am not as lazy as I thought. Spoiled maybe, but not lazy. What a relief!

But that still doesn’t solve my problem. I work my current job because it brings in just enough money—combining with my wife’s income–to keep my household running and allows me to be here for my kids whenever they are here. It is a busy lifestyle, but our arrangement manages to just keep the bills paid and all of us happy and grateful for the time together.

But still pent-up and wishing for more.

More time and more money would be ideal, of course. That is where my usual fantasies of winning the lottery come in. But this week, as my soul was stirred up into a frenzy by this new book idea and my eagerness to dive into the writing of it, I realized something different about the tone of my fantasy hypotheticals.

The pleas suddenly became much less greedy, much more sensible. Instead of “If only I had 500 million dollars, I could really do what I want!” my visions have been more like, “If only I could keep my simple, paltry income but not have to put in the time to do the job and commute, I could do enough of what I want to keep me fulfilled.”

Maybe I thought that if my request wasn’t so gigantic, the wish-granters—there is a local branch of the Wizard of Oz in every town, right?—might somehow find a way for me. I am not asking to be rid of my usual financial balancing act and the tension that comes whenever I spend money. I will happily carry those burdens if only I am granted the TIME.

Yes, TIME is what I am really after. I just want those hours that I spend from the moment I leave for work to the moment I arrive back at home. If I could have those hours, along with my current income, I would not ask the wish-granters for any more wishes (I say now).

What would I do with the hours? WORK! My work. I would spend every one of them writing. In the short-term, I would write the book whose idea is burning in me right now. In the long-term, I have many other things I want to write, too, including more of these weekly letters to you. Believe me, I could keep myself occupied with the many ideas that inspire me to help make the world a better place.

I feel like the painter who has the perfect painting in mind and his paints and brushes ready to go, but he is waiting for his canvas to arrive. Waiting impatiently.

Every artist needs a patron. I started saying that when I was a young actor, having first realized how much energy it takes to create and perform one’s art consistently well. I experienced how that energy and inspiration can get muted in the drudgery of making a living doing something that is not your passion for most of the day simply to get a small window of time to pursue that passion. I am convinced that most of the world’s great art has gone unproduced due to the world’s artists lacking the requisite time and energy to create. Because I dare flatter myself by calling what I do a type of “Art,” I feel this pain. I ache for that time and energy. And thus my fantasies.

Those obligation-free hours are so alluring to my imagination. Of course, there are a million ways to use them. I know it would be wonderful to use the time to read all of the books I have on my list and take up all the hobbies I have ever aspired to. I can see myself easily passing the day between guitar practice, yoga, and some Hemingway in my hammock. It is a vision that warms my heart.

It wouldn’t last, though. What drives me is the writing. Trying to string together words that will make a difference in people’s lives. I can’t make it very long without returning to that.

So yeah, at the end of the day, if you let me keep my current income but allowed me to quit working, what would I do? I would work! (MY way.)

How about you? What would you do if you were guaranteed your income without the time commitment? Open up your journal and imagine this amazing opportunity. How would you use it? Maybe this essentially becomes a question of what you prioritize at this point in your life, not just what you like to do. Is there something that you highly value but that you have not had time to devote to with your current schedule? Is it something that you can see yourself making a habit of and keeping in your life long-term? Would you use the time to cultivate a hobby or rather something that would become a new career for you? How widely would you spread your wings? How much would you simply kick back and take life easier than you have been? Would you intentionally have no agenda at all for a while? How long do you think you could go without any job before you became either bored or stir crazy? Is this even a deal that you would take? Perhaps you would prefer to keep doing your current job, whether for social reasons or connections and opportunities to keep climbing the career ladder in your field and building a bigger income than you have now? Whatever your choice, I hope that the things you prioritize—the things you might fill your newfound window of time with—are things that will leave you feeling fulfilled. I would love to hear what you choose. Leave me a reply and let me know: How would you fill the time that is truly free?

Think big,

William

P.S. If this letter had you re-thinking about what you really prioritize at this point in your life, pass it on. A little clarity could do us all some good!

AAAAAAAAARRRGGHH!!!!!! What Stresses You Out?

DSC_0036“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” –Reinhold Niebuhr, The Serenity Prayer

Hello friend,

I had a major personal victory this week. I had an important morning work meeting in a distant part of town, and I had to drop my daughter off at camp on the way. She is in a very close race with her brother for the title of “World’s Biggest Slowpoke,” so I was fairly relieved to turn on the car and see that we were only a few minutes behind the time I planned to leave. I figured that if traffic were at all reasonable, I would make my meeting on-time. On-time is very important to me, as I cannot stand to waste other people’s time or disrupt the flow of an event that started without me. I find tardiness not only unprofessional but also rude, and I do NOT want to be that guy.

Anyway, there we were, making pretty good time as we pulled into the parking lot at camp and started getting out of the car. “Where’s your backpack?” I asked. “Er….,” she mumbled as her eyes scanned the car. “Oops,” she said apologetically as my heart sank. Immediately after the sinking, the same heart exploded with adrenaline upon my realization that I was going to be late for my meeting.

Here was my moment of truth. Was I going to go my usual route and have a near-heart attack for the next 30-45 minutes as I allowed my lateness to consume me, panicking right up to the moment I arrived at my meeting and affected by it long after? Or, was this time going to be different?

I won’t bore you with the details, but I am so pleased—and surprised, frankly—to report that I did not let the stress win this time. For whatever reason, I accepted the circumstances and simply did my best. I was magnificently calm, and wow, what a difference! It was amazing. And totally new.

Lateness is one of the few things that consistently stresses me out. What else does? Money does—or rather the spending of money—which is why I try to not think about it (or spend it) very often. Uncertainty about my future employment and how I will make that all work around caring for my kids is another thing that brings me stress when I think about it. That’s another one that, most of the time anyway, I just have to choose to not think about.

I can thankfully say that I am not a big worrier and am quite optimistic about the future. It is only if you shove a situation in my face—like being late or an unforeseen major expense, such as a car or appliance breakdown (or last year’s garage door adventure)—that I stress about the present circumstances. If you make me think about my next job, you can stress me. But I generally have control over that.

Basically, if I stay present, I am mostly cool. It is only since I have taken on a family that I have taken on the financial stress, though admittedly I have never liked to spend money. Same with the stress about the future: I never had it until I had others that I was responsible for.

Lateness stress? Well, I think maybe I am just hardwired for that. I remember one day in seventh grade when my Dad was driving me and my brother to school across town. When we were most of the way there, my brother remembered that he had forgotten something at home. The moment my old man turned the car around, my heart began pounding out of my chest. We were guaranteed to be late. I was completely stressed out, trying to calculate in my racing brain how many miles per hour we were averaging to figure out what time we would make it. My blood pressure was off the charts!

When I think about it now, though, I don’t know if that was my aversion to disrespecting someone’s time—as it is today—as much as it was a fear of getting into trouble, which is another way to stress me out, it now occurs to me. I was always so tense around authority figures—school principals, police officers, etc.—when I was a kid, sure that they were about to bust me (even though I was very much a rule-follower). I think I am past that now, though I suppose that was the origin of my stress around tardiness.

Whether that remains or not, or if it is just about courtesy and respect, it still tenses me into a ball to be running late. Of course, having children—particularly my two slowpokes and their many scheduled activities—is a wonderful test of that quality! That is plenty for me. Working with someone who is tense all the time has shown me how miserable it would be to carry around that much stress.

I am going to do my best to keep my mind right and deal peacefully with what arises. I am so grateful to have my journal to help me to work through my stressors and find my way to clarity and serenity. It has helped me this week as I have processed my own thoughts about stress for this letter, as well as the actual stress of the deadline to get it to the screen in front of you now.

One of the issues that has arisen for me in thinking about stress is whether I am simply in denial about some important issues, burying my head in the sand in order to maintain a peace that would be better off being shaken up by addressing these issues. As I mentioned, I stress about money and the future if you make me think about it. If you don’t, I don’t. Is that a healthy or unhealthy denial? Of course, I want to say it is healthy. In this light, stress management is simply a matter of what you focus on.

The more I stew on it, though (as I write these words), the more I am coming to believe that managing my stress and eliminating stressors from my mind is about embracing what I can control and not giving my energy to the things I cannot.

At the moment, the amount of money that comes into my house and what will happen in my future career are not really in my hands—out of my control. So, although I can take steps to work toward a bigger bank account or better career opportunities, to actually spend energy on worrying about them beyond that is pure folly, not to mention the recipe for stress. (A-HA Moment: Maybe what I thought was denial is really a natural wisdom I didn’t know I possessed.)  

The same applies for my “Lateness Stress.” When I am already late, what can I really do about it? Nothing! So, to panic about it all the way there is a giant waste of my energy. I learned that this week when I talked myself into a peaceful drive to a meeting I would arrive late to. Instead of being miserable for 40 minutes from the moment the writing was on the wall, I chose to focus on the moment and what I could control. It became a truly enjoyable and relaxing drive, windows open with the Summer wind caressing my skin and me enjoying a rare drive in solitude. All because I let go of what I could no longer control. Imagine that!

Can I do it again? Can I make it a habit? Well, that remains to be seen. But I have a model now. There is proof that it is possible! And it felt so good, so it seems like a worthwhile endeavor. I sure could use less stress in my world.

How about you? What are you stressing about? Open up your journal and explore the things that weigh you down. What are your biggest burdens? Are you one of the lucky ones who don’t fret about money, whether you have it or not? How much stress do you feel at work? Is it just the nature of your profession, or is there something about your particular workplace (or yourself) that makes it that way? Do you carry work stress home with you? Do you need to? Do you stress about your future, whether it is related to career, health, relationships, or something else? Are these things you have some control over right now? Are you doing something about them? How much does your standard level of Optimism/Pessimism dictate your stress level? Would you like to be more optimistic? Which things that you stress about would you be better off simply ignoring? Do you seem to like having something to worry about? Do you know anyone who is consumed by stress? Do you enjoy their company? When interacting with them, do you find yourself becoming more stressed (or more negative), too? Which of your stressors have you always had and seem to come by naturally? Which have you developed more recently? How much of your stress is controllable? Is stress just a matter of what you give your energy to? Is it more about the Serenity Prayer idea: focusing only on what you can control? How complicated is this riddle? Leave me a reply and let me know: What stresses you out?

I wish you peace,

William

P.S. If today’s letter helped you to look at your life and your point-of-view in a new way, pass it on. Let’s help others to lighten their loads. Peace is a gift to be shared.