Tag Archives: dreams

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.

Are You Giving LIFE Your Best Shot?

“At the age of six I wanted to be a cook. At seven I wanted to be Napoleon. And my ambition has been growing steadily ever since.” –Salvador Dali

“I go dreaming into the future, where I see nothing, nothing. I have no plans, no idea, no project, and, what is worse, no ambition. Something—the eternal ‘what’s the use?’—sets its bronze barrier across every avenue that I open up in the realm of hypothesis.” –Gustave Flaubert, Flaubert in Egypt: A Sensibility On Tour

Hello friend,

Last weekend I finished up my first (and probably last) season as a middle school volleyball coach. It was my daughter’s team. They were desperate for a coach so they could start the season, so I swallowed my insecurities about never having played organized volleyball in my life and jumped in to lead them. I had spent years as a professional tennis coach and worked with middle schoolers many times, so I wasn’t worried about dealing with the kids. But it’s a totally different sport, so I definitely went in feeling like a fish out of water. I discovered immediately, though, that I liked it. The old coach in me jumped right back into that zone, and I found myself quite invigorated by each practice and game. I was teaching and learning at the same time, a perfect recipe for me.

The one thing that struck me from the very first practice was the reminder of how painfully shy and awkward most kids—both girls and boys—are in middle school. It is like you can cut the insecurity in the room with a knife. I have always believed that if there is one thing I would like to be able to bottle and give to every child (and adult, really), it is self-belief. We miss out on so, so much simply because we lack the confidence to put ourselves out there and try something new or hard or both. We play small and stay in our shell, living life with our MUTE button pressed upon our souls. The missed opportunities pile on top of one another: deep conversations, social clubs or sports, new friendships, leadership roles, job applications or promotions, love interests, or just the last slice of pizza. Lack of self-belief leads to lack of luck and lack of the best, juiciest things in Life. It cascades. All the fun that goes un-had and all the magic that goes unclaimed. I find it deeply tragic.

In that first volleyball practice, I met a girl we will call Tamara, who seemed particularly afflicted with this crippling self-doubt. When it came time to work on serving, I went through all of the technical points of the overhand serve and then set the kids loose to try it for themselves. She cautiously approached me and, eyes cast down, asked if she could just serve underhand. I explained to her that one of the goals at this age is to serve overhand instead of the underhanded variety that kids learn in elementary school, so we were all going to give it a shot. It was built into the rules of our league that kids should try the overhand serve on their first attempt, and if they couldn’t get it, a “mulligan”/second serve would be given, during which they could settle for the weaker underhand serve if absolutely necessary. Tamara was a big, strong girl, though, so I told her I believed she had what it took to serve overhand. She was clearly dubious about that and very disappointed, but I poured on the encouragement. By the third practice, she was looking like our best server. When our first game rolled around, she asked to serve first. It was amazing! I was tickled and felt that old gratification that a coach feels when a player overcomes their doubts and fears to achieve something they hadn’t thought possible. It’s that magic that keeps old coaches coaching.

Tamara was marching along beautifully for a few games, claiming the serve to start every game. I was feeding her belief with everything I had. She was winning us free points with her power and depth. She was rolling. Then, she had a game where she missed a few. It really got into her head, immediately. On a timeout, she came to me with the sunken eyes again: “Can I serve underhand from now on?” It totally floored me. As a guy who has a lot of self-confidence (and who hasn’t coached in a while), I was caught off-guard by how quickly her belief had melted away. I told her that technically she was allowed to, but that I hoped she would stick with it. I pointed out that despite the misses, she was scoring more points for us with her best shot than she was costing us with it. Crushed and dubious, she stuck with it for the rest of that game and found her rhythm again. After the match, I teased her, “Don’t ever ask me that again!”

We made our way through the final weeks of the season with Tamara serving well and got to the last tournament, when she again hit a rough patch and again asked if she could serve underhand. I told her no, she could not, and that she was better for the team when she went for her best shot. It was hard to watch her struggle so much with her self-confidence; it was obvious how fragile her belief in herself was and how quickly it abandoned her.

The tournament ended, and with it the realization that I will probably never see Tamara again. We had developed a nice rapport through this adventure with her serving and my belief in her, and probably because of that, her agonizing self-doubt really left an impression on me. I stewed on it for a few days, feeling like I wanted to leave her with one last parting shot that, just maybe, she could take with her for the rest of her life. I found her email address and wrote her a short note to thank her for playing. I ended it with this:

Life is like your volleyball serve. There will be setbacks along the way and moments when you lose confidence in yourself, but if you can somehow look at the bigger picture and realize how much better you are when you trust yourself and go for your best version, you and those around you come out so much better for it. Believe in yourself. Life deserves your overhand serve, and so do you. All the best to you in your bright future, Coach William

Writing that note to Tamara got me thinking about my own life, wondering how well I have done and how well I am currently doing at giving it my own version of the overhand serve. It is a tough question, because I think you have to look beyond obvious risks and accomplishments to find the truth (well, I hope you do). It is convenient for me to look back at certain times in my adulthood and say, “See, I took my shot!” I went to Hollywood in my early twenties to take a shot at acting. I climbed the ladder to a position of power in my first “real” career field. I took a chance on a cross-country love that turned out to be the love of my life. I achieved a long-time dream of writing a book. I take a regular shot when I write these letters to you. I can point to all of these things when I am put before the judge to plead my case that I am living like I mean it. But is that stuff enough? Is my case really all that convincing?

Some days at work, if I am in the midst of a mind-numbing task, I wonder to myself, “Is this the best I can do?” If I get late in the week and I haven’t come up with a topic I deem worthy of a letter to you and so decide to let the week pass and settle for trying next week, I think, “This feels like playing small.” When weeks and months go by and I don’t feel myself making an impact on other people’s lives, I feel my tension rise with the thought, “The clock is ticking down on my time here, and I am not doing enough.”

I am not sure what taking a bigger swing would look like for me right now. Is it a career change? Writing a new book? Running for political office? The pressure seems to be more embedded in the question, “Am I doing enough?” Of course, that question comes through in different versions: Can I justify my existence? Is this set of choices fulfilling? Am I living my purpose? Am I okay with this as my legacy? Am I happy?

I find myself in a lull when it comes to notable achievements. I have not blasted any life goals, passed any major milestones, or won any prizes lately. Even more, I don’t feel myself striving for a particular prize with any great urgency. I am kind of gliding along. Given my propensity to seek out the next mountain to climb, this current gliding makes me suspicious. I must be doing something wrong to be so unambitious. Shouldn’t I be more antsy? Why am I not climbing the walls and plotting to take over the world? Surely this is not my best shot. Right?

And yet, I am unmistakably happy. I enjoy my days. I love giving as much time as I do to my family, even as I am aware of it coming at a cost of my time for other, more aspirational accomplishments. I like my hobbies and want to devote even more time to them, even though I won’t win any of the popular prizes for them. So many of the things that I am looking forward to and orienting my time around are just fun. They are peace-inducing. Lots of good-for-the-soul kind of stuff. I am kept busy doing things that I enjoy. I’ve heard that’s a version of living the good life.

So, why do I still feel that nagging thought about doing more and bigger? Why did my note to Tamara about not settling for the Life version of the underhand serve make me wonder if it wasn’t addressed as much to me as to her? Why does this stretch of time without a significant achievement make me feel guilty and a little ashamed?

I realize that Life requires a balance of contentment and ambition. I also have come to realize that there are seasons in our lives that will lean more heavily, even completely, into one or the other. For me, at least, I cannot keep my nose constantly to the grindstone; I have learned to listen to my system’s signals that it needs a recharge. That has helped keep my creative juices flowing more consistently and fueled my passions for work and other interests. But I am also learning lately that it is possible for me to get too indulgent and lose my edge. For instance, if I go too long between letters to you, as I have done more in the last year, I get a little antsy. I need that regular challenge to keep my sword sharpened, to feel fully engaged in Life itself, and my purpose in it. It is a good thing to understand this about myself; it keeps me from getting lost.

So, am I giving Life my overhand serve right now? In a way, no. I am not ambitiously attacking a long-held dream or newfound passion project. But in another way, I think I am hitting it just solidly and aggressively enough for what the moment calls for. I am understanding where I am right now in my cycle and responding in a way that makes me feel happy. It won’t last forever, I know. I will have to adjust as my ambitions flare. But I trust that if I keep at my daily journaling and my quest for self-awareness and present mindfulness—and continue to believe that I have what it takes to rise to the occasion–I will keep adjusting the volume on my serve to meet the needs of my sensitive-yet-demanding soul. If I can stay on that razor’s edge, I think I can find a way to always keep it overhand.

How about you? Are you giving Life your best shot, or are you playing small? Open your journal and unpack your Truth. Does your self-belief have you striving for your best life? Perhaps it is easier to go back in your life story and follow your journey step-by-step as it relates to self-belief and the actions you have taken to decide your fate. How bold were you while growing up? Did you have the confidence to try things that you thought might interest you? Were you okay with struggle and failure if the endeavor was interesting or fun for you? Can you think of times when fear and insecurity kept you from trying something new (e.g. auditioning for a play or asking someone on a date)? If you had those moments and played small, how long (if ever) did it take for you to realize it? Were you able to learn from your meekest moments and then rise to similar moments later on? As you moved into adulthood, what was your level of self-belief? How did that affect the choices you made regarding Life stuff like career aspirations and relationships? Did you go for the things you dreamed about? Did you try new things? How open were you to meeting new people and joining new groups? Did you believe yourself worthy of a wonderful romantic partner? Can you point to specific moments in young adulthood when you bet on yourself or took a real chance to get what you wanted? How did that work out? Conversely, do you recall certain moments when you played small and hid your light, perhaps not believing you were worthy or ready for the best things? How much regret do you carry from those small moments? How have they shaped your life in the years since? Where do you find yourself lately when it comes to self-belief and the level of ambition behind your life choices? Are you still taking shots at your dreams and striving for your vision of a “best life,” or are you mostly floating along without much ambition? If you lack ambition, do you think that reflects more that you are basically satisfied with your life or that you don’t feel yourself worthy of more? As you look back through the years and the changes along your journey, do you see an ebb and flow in your level of ambition and boldness? Do you have seasons of contentment and ease, followed by seasons where you really strive for something big (e.g. getting an advanced degree or writing a book or gunning for a promotion)? Do you tend more toward the ease or more toward the striving? How has that changed over time? Do you feel more or less urgency as you age? What was the last big shot you took? What will be your next one? If you don’t have anything on your horizon, do you think that means it is time to find something? Or does that mean you are simply living right? On the whole, would you say your life is an underhand serve or an overhand serve? Leave me a reply and let me know: Are you giving Life your best shot?

Embody self-belief,

William

P.S. If today’s letter resonated with you, please share it with your community. We rise by lifting others.

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

How Many Great Years Do You Need To Call It A Great Life?

“You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.” –Mae West

“May you live every day of your life.” –Jonathan Swift

Hello friend,

I remember so clearly the high I felt upon publishing my first Journal of You letter to you more than six years ago. The adrenaline rush, the ecstasy, the peace and satisfaction of doing what feels exactly right and true. It was like falling in love. I had always tried in different ways—teaching, coaching, managing–to help other people to be their best, but this time it was like I was finally tapping into my best stuff. It was fulfilling in a way nothing else had ever been, making me believe I had truly and finally locked into my purpose. It was heavenly. I figured if I could just stay dialed into that energy for the rest of my life—just keep doing the meaningful work—when all was said and done, I could lay claim to a truly great life. That’s all I wanted. That all I have ever wanted.

For the first months after beginning my letters, I was going like a madman: working a lot, spending every possible minute with my young children, and then staying up into the wee hours to pour out my heart and soul into the keyboard to keep your inbox full of new thoughts from me. I hardly slept at all, fueled almost entirely by my passion for the work and that inimitable high I mentioned above.

Before long, it became clear that I could not sustain the wild pace, and I settled on a deadline of one letter per week. It would still be a stiff challenge for time and sleep, but it seemed to strike the right blend of reasonably demanding to my mind and deeply fulfilling to my soul. Writing was in me, I knew that, and committing to producing constantly made it feel professional, like I wasn’t merely dabbling but instead was giving it the effort and attention that it deserved. I was being a “real” writer, which felt like what I was called to do.

That hectic pace kept going right up until the time when I realized I could not edit and assemble my upcoming book if I was preoccupied every week with producing a new letter to you. Even though the answer was obvious, it was still heart-wrenching for me to put the blog on hold until the book was ready for release. It was a grinding process but richly rewarding to the soul in the end. All of that blood, sweat, and tears had left some small mark upon the world; it would live beyond me. I was proud of myself. And I was sure it was just the beginning.

I have always had a very wide variety of interests and don’t like to limit my areas of study or work. I could imagine being deeply fulfilled by years filled with writing in all sorts of formats—books, articles, blogs, personal correspondence—but I know that other things could fulfill me also. Coaching, counseling, public speaking, working to make the world a more peaceful, sustainable, and equitable place to live—all of these things are meaningful to me. So, although I think of myself as a writer and saw the publishing of my first book as a harbinger of things to come, I knew that writing wasn’t the only way I would measure “success” along my journey and certainly wouldn’t be the only consideration when I got to the end of it all and gave myself a final grade.

And not that work or career are the only ways I want to gauge my progress as a person and the quality of my existence. As I go along, and definitely in my final measure, I will be looking hard at my relationships and the amount of love given and received in them. My role as Dad will be especially under the microscope, followed by husband. Son, brother, and friend, too.

I will also take into consideration how much fun I have had and the quality and quantity of my adventures. I hope that, in the end, I will not be disappointed by the number cross-country roadtrips I have taken, how many new languages I have been lucky enough to try, and how many nights I have spent under the stars. I will want to recall how many times I laughed myself into a bellyache, played my fingertips raw, and sung myself hoarse. I will consider all the times I have played my muscles to exhaustion. I will delight in replaying the moments when I have been moved to tears by live music, a poetry reading, an interpretive dance, or live theatre. And of course, I will ache to recount the times (hopefully many) I have allowed myself to be moved to pure creation by The Muse.

I have no doubt that part of the equation will also be the quality of my actions and how they affected the greater world around me. Did I show enough empathy for those who have not been as lucky as I have? Did my writing do enough to raise awareness of the importance of living our best lives, including being better to the people around us? Did I make visible the people too often ignored? Did I raise my voice enough to help the voiceless? Basically, is the world a better place because I was here?

The other thing I will really want to establish is if I was happy. Really, truly happy. I have read books and articles that suggested being happy is the meaning of Life. I don’t know if that is true, but it certainly is important and a necessary consideration when assessing the quality of one’s full life. After all, what good are adventures, ideals, and good deeds if they don’t make you happy? Answer (I think): some good, no doubt, but not good enough. So, I will measure my joy and satisfaction, my degree of fulfillment, and the delight at being me.

These subjective assessments should matter—just because they are difficult to measure does not mean they don’t have a significant impact—because they are the truth behind what we see in the mirror every day. They cover over us and ooze out of us in our most quiet moments alone. That’s why I will take them seriously in my final judgment.

But I know myself too well; I am sure that much of my grade will be based on “production.” I will want a clear calculation of how many Journal of You letters I have published, and how many years I published them. I will want to know how many books I have written (and it better be more than one!). The same for podcasts, articles, TED talks, or anything else I put out into the world. I will want specific examples of the people I have made a positive impact on: my students, clients, readers, listeners, and anyone else I somehow touched along the way with my endeavors. I’ll need names! There will be a list. I’ll want proof of a great life.

That proof is exactly why my lifestyle since publishing my book has been gnawing at me lately. You see, after I exhaled that giant sigh of relief two years ago when the book went out, I decided I needed some time to be without the strict deadlines I had kept for myself the previous five years. I wanted a break from that pressure to produce writing all the time. Instead of a weekly deadline for these letters to you, I gave myself an extra week in between. So, instead of stressing every week, I let myself relax for a week, then stress the next week until I hit the “Publish” button. It was a delightful ease that I had forgotten all about since I wrote that first Journal of You post years earlier. I felt a little guilty—like I was cheating on my commitment to professionalism—but the ease was so nice. I actually let myself do some other things, from home repairs to extra time reading, even an occasional movie. I felt more well-rounded. It seemed like self-care, which I have heard is a good thing.

But then, if something came up and I couldn’t quite squeeze in a post that second week, I gave myself a pass. I wasn’t as hard on myself about meeting deadlines. I let myself be okay with not having a new book idea to pursue. I let myself stay in work that doesn’t deliver a high enough level of impact on others. My standard for disappointment in myself loosened. I justified more self-care. Pass, pass, pass. Slide, slide, slide. And I have been happy. I am enjoying myself and my time. I notice the lack of tension and appreciate the absence of the weight on my shoulders, the need to constantly rise to my high standards. I Iike doing the other things, too. Life is good.

And yet, just below the surface, there is always the gnawing…

I can’t help thinking that I will wake up one of these days in a full-blown panic with the realization at how much time has passed since I was in fifth gear, churning out evidence of how I want to be in the world and the impact I want my life to leave. I will remember vividly how, only two short years ago, I was on fire with productions of my purpose and my passions. And I will be devastated by regret.

I am a lifelong student of Tennis, and I think often about the three guys that are at the absolute pinnacle of the sport: Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, and Novak Djokovic. They only got there by doing everything right all along the way. Nutrition, fitness, stroke production, mental strength, attitude, work ethic. Everything. All of that has to be done consistently to have the best career possible, to be Federer, Nadal, or Djokovic rather than Kyrgios or Safin. If you are asking who those last two are, my answer is, “EXACTLY!” You have proven my point. (Answer: They are players who shared the era with the three giants and had at least as much talent but nowhere near the results, victims of their own inconsistent efforts.)

Is Life the same way? Do we get to coast for any extended periods—mindlessly going through the motions without putting our noses to the grindstone of our dreams and ideals and pointedly attempting to do our best—without ultimately being unsatisfied with our run? That is the question that gnaws at me.

I will turn 48 soon. It’s not ancient, but believe me, that proximity to 50 has made me aware that my clock is ticking. There is more sand in the bottom of the hourglass than the top. I hate that! I love this life and want it to go on and on. I have thought that all along, but now there is that ticking in the ambience, supplying the years with an urgency that didn’t exist before.

I want my lifetime, when all the dust settles, to have been a great one. Not just a good one. Not just one with a smattering of good memories and sweet loves, or a handful of milestones that I was once proud to hit. I want it to have been great. Roger Federer great. I want to know that I made good use of my gifts, that I lived up to my potential. That’s really what it is, now that I write the word: potential. When I go, I want to have wrung out every last bit of goodness from my soul and left it here on the Earth.

When I think about that standard, the regret begins to pour over me. It just seems like the people who have lived the very best of lives probably didn’t do a lot of sliding. You know, like Mother Teresa, she probably didn’t knock off her work with the poor in India for a few years to recharge her battery, kicking back to read and do coffees with friends. Martin Luther King probably didn’t do a lot of retreats or take sabbaticals from injustice (My goodness, the man did all he did and was killed before he even reached age 40; that is humbling to any aspiring change-maker.) .

And while I understand that Life requires balance, and while I accept that self-care, downtime, hobbies, and even perhaps some mindless television or social media are part of that balance that makes for a healthy existence, I also can see how easy it is to fall into the trap of overindulgence. “Self-care” can be a drug, too, an opiate that allows me to piddle away my time on what genuinely appear to be pleasant activities and personal growth but are, after a while anyway, simply justifications for not doing better for the world around me. That translates into a life that is enjoyed but not fulfilled. I want both. I demand both.

So, given that I know I haven’t done it all right to this point, my main question is: How much slide time do I have left, if any, before I no longer have a chance to make mine a truly great life? Has my relative slide these past two years been too much to overcome? How “productive” do I have to be every year going forward to negate this slow patch? More generally, I just want to know what percentage of a person’s life gets to be unambitious in the direction of her ideals and goals compared to the percentage that she spends fully engaged in the good stuff. Because, like I said, I do enjoy my sliding activities, but I think they would be all the more enjoyable if there wasn’t that perpetual gnawing that accompanies them. It would be nice if present guilt and future regret didn’t accompany every period of ease and contentment. I would champion and embody the whole Balance and Self-Care movement if I knew just what the acceptable balance was. Acceptable for Greatness, that is. I don’t want to be just generally satisfied at the end of this ride. I want to be completely fulfilled. I want to have made an impact. I want to be able to call my life great.

How about you? Are you using your time in a way that you will not have regrets later about squandering the potential you had to build a great life? Open up your journal and explore your goals and ideals in juxtaposition with the way you have passed the years. Are you on your way to living the life you have imagined for yourself, or are you mostly coasting through to wherever? Perhaps it is best to begin by envisioning your best life. What does that look like for you? What kind of work would you be doing? What positive impact on the world would you be making? Whose lives would you be touching? Which ideals would you be advancing? How fulfilled would you be? Does that vision feel like a great life? Let’s keep that vision as your standard. Now, how are you doing at living up to it? Over the last decade, in how many of the years do you feel like you have made significant strides in the direction of these goals and ideals? How many of the years have you coasted through? What about this year? Are you in a Progress Mode at the moment, or are you sliding by? How much does it bother you when you realize you are in a coasting period? Do you feel guilt about your slides? How much do you think you will regret them later? How do you feel in your most “productive” periods, when you are advancing your dreams and doing good work in the world? Does the satisfaction give you fuel to do more, even as the work is taxing? How long do your ideal stretches tend to last, these times when you are really in the flow and knowing you are making a difference? How long do your more passive, coasting stretches tend to last? Is your ebb and flow of ambition fairly consistent? Do you need the down times to refuel your tank for more of the good stuff, or do you just get sidetracked? How aware are you of the phase you are in at any given time? Do you know when you are in Self-Care Mode versus Hard Driving Mode? Do you plan it? What do you think is the right balance for you? What percentage of your adult years will have to have been good ones for you to proclaim, in the end, that you have had a truly great life? Do you think your standard is pretty similar to most people’s? Do you feel driven to have a great life, or is a good or okay one acceptable for you? At the end of it all, how closely will you have come to reaching your potential? Are you on track for that now, or do you have some catching up to do? Do you believe it is still possible? What will you regret coasting by? What is one thing you can do today to advance your cause? I hope that you will take advantage of the opportunity. Leave me a reply and let me know: How much of your life needs to be great to have lived a truly great life?

Seize the day,

William

P.S. If today’s letter resonated with you, please share it with your community. We rise together!

P.P.S. If this method of self-inquiry and storytelling appeals to you, consider buying my book, Journal of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth, at your favorite online retailers.

Soul Sucker or Soul Stirrer? The Role of Screen Time in Your Life

“If you are losing your leisure, look out! It may be you are losing your soul.” –Virginia Woolf

“For me, I am driven by two main philosophies: know more today about the world than I knew yesterday and lessen the suffering of others. You’d be surprised how far that gets you.” –Neil deGrasse Tyson

Hello friend,

It is no secret that I am seriously prone to guilt? Well, let me clarify that. I am not much for guilt from other people; in fact, if you try to guilt me into doing something, I will almost certainly withdraw from that situation (and you) entirely. Self-inflicted guilt, however, is an unfortunate staple of my personality. I can make myself feel bad about the least transgression, like skipping a day at the gym or not writing letters to you as often as I once did. If it involves me not taking advantage of every opportunity to live my best life, I am vulnerable to an internalized flogging. And anxiety. I get antsy when I am not obviously growing.

So it is that the other day, while taking stock of my current life and my degree of contentment and longing, I noticed a most interesting and unusual phenomenon: despite the absence of any “big rock” that I am progressing daily in the direction of my dreams, or any major soul-stirring new dream that I am forming in my mind, I am feeling uncharacteristically serene and accepting of my status. At least for the moment, my relative lack of “progress” is not freaking me out. And I am starting to wonder if that alone should freak me out.

Am I getting complacent in my middle age, losing my passion and idealism? Am I allowing my dreams to slip from my once-stubborn grasp? Is my spirit dying, its light snuffed out by laziness and busy-ness?

Possibly because none of those things are true, or, just as possible, because I am unwilling to allow those thoughts into my head, I have decided to take a look at my habits from a totally different perspective. I need these new lenses in order to make more clear to myself just why my mind and soul are feeling pretty engaged without one of those big, obvious dreams or achievements that I am usually striving toward and that put wind in my sails. What are these more subtle forces at work that have been invisible to my eyes until now?

Interestingly, it was–quite literally–right there in front of my eyes all the time. Media. Screens. All of the information and art that I absorb on a daily basis.

When I have finished working and then spending the bulk of my “free time” face-to-face with my greatest inspirations–my children, my writing (either to you or in my journal), and Mother Nature–there are these last few fleeting moments of the day. They are usually found on a cardio machine at the gym early in the morning or in my bed as my eyelids get heavy at the day’s end, but I am always on the lookout for moments to steal.

It is in these precious moments that you can find me with my tablet–I hardly ever use my phone–which holds my books and, for the special occasion, my Netflix account. In recent months, I have found myself in turns fascinated, inspired, devastated, and mesmerized by what I have learned through that screen. And that is exactly what it has been: an education.

Allow me to share of the marvelous gifts my favorite device has bestowed upon me in recent months, just in case you are in need of some ideas for your own enrichment and growth.

Believe me, I wish I could share tons of movie suggestions, but my schedule and priorities don’t allow for two-to-three-hour blocks of time to sit and focus (if it did, you would get many more letters from me, or perhaps news of my next book). I did, however, catch the film Bohemian Rhapsody on a plane ride, and I recommend it. It jelled nicely with the main focuses of my education lately: the 1960s and 1970s (though the film is actually more of the 80s), and the culture around the music of that era. I have been drawn to this era for an unusual reason: because, in theory, these are the decades that would shape my parents’ late adolescence and young adulthood, yet neither my mother or my father has ever seemed at all engaged with the politics and music of that dynamic time–the Civil Rights Movement, the Vietnam War, the Women’s Movement, rock ‘n’ roll, the Motown sound, drugs, etc.–a phenomenon that befuddles me. It is also the era that flowed into my childhood, so I am trying to better understand my upbringing and the world I came into (better late than never!).

In the absence of Hollywood movies, I have used my random and stunted Netflix time (usually once per week at the gym) on documentaries, often about musicians. I have been fascinated by The Two Killings Of Sam Cooke, Bowie: The Man Who Changed Everything, Keith Richards: Under The Influence, 20 Feet From Stardom, and Studio 54: The Documentary. The one that I am completely engrossed in now, that I can see will take me some months to finish its multiple parts, is Ken Burns’ The Vietnam War. It is eye-opening, blood-curdling, heart-wrenching, and infuriating. But so detailed and informative. It is a lesson I have needed, one that perhaps we all need. I hope you will give it a look.

Prior to this one, the “special” (not exactly a documentary) that truly captivated me was Springsteen On Broadway. The things that most interest me in the world are people’s stories, especially if told by the people themselves. Springsteen’s performance in this, from a storytelling perspective, is brilliant. The occasional musical numbers are just gravy. I highly recommend it.

Watching these documentaries has only increased my thirst for more of them. The ones on my wish list after I finish The Vietnam War are Planet Earth II, Brené Brown: The Call To Courage, The Seventies, Our Planet, Bobby Kennedy For President, The Story of God, How The Beatles Changed The World, Mountain, One Strange Rock, and Ken Burns’ The Civil War and The West. I think Netflix mostly exists just to tease me about my lack of time to watch its countless delights!

But there are even more books to read. I read with my 8-year-old son, I read with my 10-year-old daughter, and I read alone. And even though the children get the final say on the titles we read together, most of the books are enjoyable and enriching for me, too. My son and I have been reading Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, which, mostly because it has inspired him to become a Greek Mythology expert, has taught me so much about a subject that I have long wanted to study. And it is entertaining. Another clever children’s series that an adult can appreciate is Chris Colfer’s The Land of Stories. Last week, I also finished (alone) a sweet book by Alex Gino called George, about the experiences with cruelty and courage of a fourth-grader who is transgender. I then passed it on to my son, who read and enjoyed it this week. My daughter and I are currently quite engrossed in Holly Goldberg Sloan’s Counting By 7s, about a young genius dealing with the sudden death of her family.

I have in recent years come to appreciate books for middle grade kids and have no trouble recommending them to adults. I had earlier caught onto that feeling about adolescent/”coming of age” tales such as Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower and John Green’s The Fault In Our Stars, both of which I strongly recommend. I find that a great children’s book is, without trying to be, also a great adult book.

But I still love to read my own grown-up books, which are usually something in the Biography/Memoir section but spread out into other areas of nonfiction and fiction as my intuition guides me. One recent, highly-detailed, biographical portrait that supplemented my study of the 1960s and 1970s–and the music thereof– was Joe Hagan’s Sticky Fingers: The Life and Times of Jann Wenner and Rolling Stone Magazine. It is fascinating (if a bit tabloidish). I have also recently had a very personal look at both mountain climbing and rape culture through the eyes of one of my favorite authors, Jon Krakauer, in Eiger Dreams and Missoula, respectively. At the moment, I am in the middle of Azar Nafisi’s thoughtful account of the myriad devastating effects of the Islamic revolution in Iran, Reading Lolita In Tehran. It is opening my eyes in a whole new way, taking my heart and mind to places I had never imagined.

But that is just what good media does, right? That is the potential of these screens we are always staring at: to stimulate our brains, to open our hearts, and to inspire our souls. In short: to lift us up, to expand our lives. Growth.

This, I can see now, is the answer to the puzzle of why, in the absence of any huge dream that is currently propelling me forward by the power of its hold on my enchanted soul, I am still feeling the tingles in that soul and the stretching of my heart and mind as they open with new knowledge and inspiration. It points to something that I clearly needed a reminder of: not only am I, at my core, a dreamer and a follower of my dreams, but I am also a student. It is in my soul’s code. I simply love to take in what is new and different to me. I get excited to try what I haven’t tried, whether that is a foreign language or a physical skill or another person’s story. I want to see, feel, and do it all so I can know better how the world works and how everyone else experiences it. When I feel those things stagnating in me, I become anxious and irritable. Unhappy. This is why I am in constant search of enrichment opportunities. My radar is always up. Basically, I am addicted to Growth.

With that realization, I can see why I have continued to be buoyed without my usual life-saving device: the big rock.

I have no doubt that before long, the pendulum will swing back the other way, and I will need to do something that satisfies my other soul compulsion: to contribute. I will need to help others rise in a more obvious way than I am now.

But for now, it is nice to know that when I my tank is running low, I don’t have to feel so guilty about turning to my screen for inspiration. There is some magical stuff in there! I plan to mine it well and allow myself to be lifted.

How about you? How do you use your screens and your media? Open up your journal and assess your relationship to your devices and your leisure time. How big of a role do your screens play in your life? What percentage of your leisure time is spent in front of a screen or page? What do you do with them? Movies? TV series? Sports? Video games? Books? Articles? Social media? Word games? Other apps? How much of that screen time would you describe as relatively mindless? Do you feel guilty, as I do, if you reach your threshold of “just passing time?” How much of your mindless time is necessary (i.e. you need it to decompress from daily stresses)? How much of it is really just wasting time? Which screen-based things that you do are inspirational? Which are entertaining? Which are educational? Which grow your life in other ways? What are those ways? Do you gain more of your leisure time enrichment via screens and pages, or via other hobbies? By what margin? What are the best movies you have watched lately? Which one(s) stand out as being particularly enriching? Which have moved you the most? Do you have any documentaries that have changed your perspective on the world? Which TV series do you find yourself recommending to others? A few weeks ago I was moved to tears by the comeback of Tiger Woods, and I always love the human stories covered during the Olympics. Do you watch sports? How engaged does the “human drama” element of sports get you? How would you rate your level of enrichment and personal growth via social media? Does the negative ever outweigh the positive? Do you waste time there? What other apps would you recommend to someone looking to be inspired and/or educated? What have you been reading lately? Do you prefer books or articles? Which blogs do you read? What have you read in the last year that has really stuck with you? Has anything changed your life dramatically? What has reminded you of Who You Really Are? Are you satisfied with the role of screens in your life? What would you like to change about them (e.g. more or less time on them, more books, less social media)? How about your leisure on the whole? Is it not just relaxing, but enriching? Do your hobbies inspire you and make you a better person? Are they enough to round out your work life and make the whole package seem fulfilling, even if temporarily? Do you cycle back and forth from being passive and content with your free time to needing to do something truly “meaningful” and life-changing? What is the proper balance? Leave me a reply and let me know, What is the role of leisure and screen time in your happiness?

Grow and grow,

William

P.S. If this letter resonated with you, please share it with someone who might be enriched by it. Grow your world!

P.P.S. If this way of introspection appeals to your sensibilities, check out by book Journal of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth at your favorite online retailers.

The Satisfaction of DOING: What Can You Check Off Your List?

“Look at a day when you are supremely satisfied at the end. It’s not a day when you lounge around doing nothing; it’s a day when you’ve had everything to do and you’ve done it.” –Margaret Thatcher

Hello friend,

I remember this time last year. I was busy organizing my mind and plotting about how I would go about the monumental task of finishing my book and soldiering it to the publishing stage. I was still naïve and unaware of all the million little things it would require, but I knew about the big stuff and that sure seemed like an awful lot. There was much editing ahead. There was formatting. There was cover design, photography, font choice, distribution, the e-book. It was daunting, to say the least.

But I was past the point of letting my fear stop me on this one. My brain was crystal clear about what my heart was set on, so I was not going to be talked out of completing the goal, no matter how many extra, unexpected hurdles popped up to make it more difficult and time-consuming. I just started taking action on the items on my list, no matter how small and distant from the end result they seemed. I whittled down the chapter list. I wrote the Introduction. I experimented with new formatting and learned about Smashwords. I learned about PDFs and JPGs and many other initials that I had no real interest in other than how they could get my words out into the world. Every day I did things to advance the cause.

Every time I finished a task, I breathed a sigh of relief. And I sat up a little straighter. The very act of doing something productive and necessary–whether it was small and simple or huge and totally out of my comfort zone–made me feel so much better about the goal as a whole and about my competence as a goal-chaser. I learned that I could take on things that were challenging and make them work. I learned that I had reserves of energy and resolve if only I dug in and made the attempt. And, best of all, I learned–or at least was reminded–that I was worthy of achieving my goals and dreams. Those were wonderful things to learn about myself, things I won’t soon let go of.

But I also learned something very important about the process of goal-chasing and the very nature of To-Do Lists: they are self-propelling, fueled and energized by the actions on the lists themselves. They are momentum-based. That is, the very doing of a necessary task creates a feeling of achievement and satisfaction that makes me want to get more of that feeling.

Of course, I want to get closer to completing the ultimate objective–publishing the book, in this case–but I also want more of that satisfaction and pride in achievement from conquering individual items on my list. It’s like, sure, you ultimately want to win the war, but the feeling of winning the battles along the way is pretty sweet, too. And the more you win, the more you want to win. Pretty soon you are gobbling up task items like gold stars in elementary school, and all the while, the big goal is getting closer and more realistic all the time. It is a beautiful, satisfying flow, and that satisfaction is highly addictive. And healthy.

This week, I had two fantastic reminders of this beautiful satisfaction and addictive momentum.

The first came in the form of a Facebook post from a longtime member of the Journal of You community. She was announcing the publishing of her own first book for children. The announcement triggered the flood of emotions and memories that I experienced last year when my Journal of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth was finally published. I was so thrilled for her and proud of her (if you can be proud of someone you don’t really know), knowing how much courage and determination it took to make it all happen. Although I am sure our paths to publishing have some things in common, my imagination went wild in considering the many hurdles–artistic, technical, emotional, and more–that she had to overcome and the countless tasks she had to complete to get to this point. That To-Do List had to be miles long! But she checked them off and has an achievement of a lifetime to show for it. That is satisfying!

The second reminder has been building all month long, growing stronger with each checkmark I make on my list. I wrote a letter to you at the end of July called “Maximizing the Summer of Your Life: Are Your Aspirations Happening?” about how, at the start of Summer, I had had such big goals for adventures with my kids and how I wasn’t doing a good job of following through with making concrete plans and taking actions. Well, I am so pleased to report that we are crushing August! I have been downright giddy–and exhausted, I admit–coming home from each new adventure, so satisfied with how the Summer has turned into one big bundle of happy memories.

Just this month so far, we have had a few different weekends at lake cabins with all kinds of water sports and campfires and family, been to the water park, hosted a sleepover, had our first camping adventure sleeping in our new tent at a state park (after a few nights of trying it out in the yard!), hiked through a local forest along a river and waterfall, biked, had lots of play dates, played lots of sports, been to birthday parties, gone to the movies, and been to both the county fair and state fair. It has required discipline from me to put things in the calendar and commit to doing them, whether or not they are in my comfort zone. And each time we do something, on the drive home I mentally check it off the list and notice that sense of satisfaction that is clearly rising as I go deeper and deeper down the list. From that first week of the month until now, I have felt that momentum snowballing. It is an amazing high and makes me even more excited for the final week of Summer and our last great adventures. I am addicted!

That seems to be the way it works for me and my bigger rocks. At times, the big goal– getting a book published or getting in shape or creating the best Summer ever for my kids–just seems too enormous and unmanageable, and I can’t even deal with it in my mind. The sheer scope of the project paralyzes me. It’s only when I can carve it up a bit and see it as a bunch of definable pieces–tasks that I can name, act on, and put a check mark next to–that I can really get my teeth into it and begin that kind of addictive, self-propelling satisfaction that seems to eventually carry the project to completion all on its own. That multiplying satisfaction becomes a force that cannot be stopped.

But it needs action to be started. I need to DO SOMETHING first.

Last year I read a book by Jen Sincero called You Are A Badass. I only recall one line from the book, but it is a keeper: “In order to kick ass, you must first lift your foot.” I love that! Sure, I should have the dream or the goal; it is necessary to do something big. Yes, I should have the excitement for the dream and the right motivation; they help when things get tough. But no matter how noble my dream, how pure-hearted my motivation, or how eager my spirit, nothing will happen until I TAKE ACTION.

But when I do, BOOM! That joy and satisfaction pop up, and the ball starts rolling.

I see now that that is why my life seems to move in spurts. My goals are always out there, but they are floating around as if in space. They often seem too big and distant to act on, so I just kind of slide by for a while in complacency. But then I get antsy and annoyed with myself for that skating, so I reach out and take hold of one of those big rocks and start chiseling. I get my tasks lined up, and I start to get the fever. The momentum builds and carries me happily until the goal is finished and I feel satisfied. Temporarily satisfied. Then it starts all over again: sliding, antsy, grasping, beautiful snowballing.

I guess I should figure out a system to always have at least one thing snowballing toward completion. That would likely keep me more consistently engaged and enthused about my life and my prospects. For now, though, I suppose it is enough to understand that, whatever my circumstances and however lofty my ambitions, the one thing I need to remember is to LIFT MY FOOT. Just lift my foot.

How about you? What does it take for you to tackle your big goals and dreams? Open up your journal and write about your experiences with achievement. What do you do with your big rocks? Do they mostly remain giant floating bodies in a distant space that you cannot quite sink your teeth into, or do you take hold of them and get right to achieving them, or somewhere in between? When you embark upon a large goal, do you formulate a specific plan or do you just flow with your intuition and change with the circumstances? Are you a list-maker? If so, are the lists written down, or do you just keep a rough list going in your head (I have done both)? Do you get that little jolt of adrenaline or feeling of satisfaction from knocking something off your list? Does one success seem to feed into others for you with your To-Do items, the momentum building the further down your list you go? Is there an addictive nature to it for you? Can you name an example of a goal you reached using this kind of momentum-building? How satisfying was it on the whole? How widely did your satisfaction level vary between the first step in the process and the last? Does successful completion of one goal motivate you to get started immediately on the next one, or do you tend to slide for a while after you achieve something? Is that a healthy balance and an opportunity to refuel your tank, or is that lull a waste of precious time? When you think of the way you might describe the way you ARE–e.g. adventurous, generous, open-minded, outdoorsy, outgoing, faithful, Christian, family-oriented, social justice-oriented, selfless, courageous, kind–how does that measure up with the things you actually DO? Are your actions in line with your intentions, or do you mostly think and/or talk a good game? How does this comparison make you feel? Do you have some work to do? What is the next big goal you would like to achieve? Do you have at least a rough list of things you will have to do to get there? What is something you can do today to create some momentum toward that goal? Are you willing to begin? Leave me a reply and let me know: What can you check off your list?

Take that step,

William

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P.S.S. If you are looking to better understand yourself and move toward a more authentic life, check out my book Journal of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth at your favorite online retailer.

Maximizing the Summer of Life: Are Your Aspirations Happening?

“At the age of six I wanted to be a cook. At seven I wanted to be Napoleon. And my ambition has been growing steadily ever since.” –Salvador Dalí

Hello friend,

Today marks the beginning of the end of my favorite time of the year. I know I am not supposed to be sad on the day of my children’s birthday parties, but I can’t help it. This big, celebratory day for our family is invariably tinged with a sense of loss for me. With one child born in late July and the other in early August, party day just happens to mean that Summer–my glorious, holy, magnificent, all-things-good Summer–is starting to wind down. And that always sends me reeling between sorrow and panic as I fully realize for the first time what I will miss about my season (EVERYTHING) and what I haven’t checked off my To-Do List (SO MUCH).

This year, like all the others, I came into Summer with an ambitious list of all the things I wanted to do before school started up again and Autumn signaled its inevitable return. But this year was even bigger than all those other Summers, too. It was to be the first Summer since my kids were born that I was “off” with them, the happy consequence of working in the school system. So, as we rolled into June, I was aiming high, imagining the biggest kinds of fun and adventures (despite the smallest kind of budget). It would be grand, and we would come away with memories to last a lifetime. I was glowing in anticipation of my season. My Summer.

What was I going to do? Lots!!!

I was going to be the king of day trips! The kids and I–and occasionally my wife–would escape the house in the morning before the heat of the day was upon us and drive out to an area lake or waterfall or forest for a hike and possibly a swim. We would get to know all of these places that we have heard friends and neighbors talk about for years, gems within an hour or two of our house that we never seemed to have time for in years past. We would go at least a couple of times per week and knock one cool spot after another off the list. It was going to be fantastic!

We were also going to do a lot of extended trips to visit family at the lakes for long weekends on the water and around the campfire. The kids would bond with their cousins the way I did with mine as a child, making the kinds of memories that still leave me with the warmest feelings for those people I no longer see very often. Memories like fireworks, sleeping outside, Capture the Flag, tubing, building forts, and telling ghost stories. As I would be tickled by the children’s shared joy and bonding, I would also be fortifying my own connections with my siblings and parents. And of course, simply basking in life by the water. The best!

In addition to these short and medium trips, we were finally going to take a real family road trip. My long-awaited, much-anticipated return to the mountains of Montana was at last going to materialize. This time, instead of me hiking solo up the trails and tenting in the backcountry, I would be showing my kiddos around and introducing them to the magic of mountain lakes and endless sky, waterfalls and bighorn sheep. It would be everything I have been dreaming about in the nearly-two decades since I made the last of my many visits to my favorite land. A reconnection of my heart, mind, and soul. Everything.

Along with the many adventures big and small, this was also to be the Summer when I reconnected with my first love, Tennis. It was a given that I would teach my kids to play, as I do every Summer. But I also would make a habit of getting my own practice in, returning to that place of purity in the joy I feel when the ball strikes the strings and the exhilaration of chasing after the next ball, relishing the challenge of synchronizing my body perfectly to the rhythm of this violent-yet-fluid dance. I was going to be a player again!

These were the dreams of my Summer just two months ago. The mere thought made me happy. Taken together, they seemed ambitious but still realistic. I could do it!

But did I???

I am disappointed to report that, as with most of my ambitions, while I have occasionally hit the mark, on the whole I have not done very well.

On the Tennis front, I have mostly failed. The children, I am pleased to say, are becoming players. They have had lots of time on the court, and it tickles me to see them enjoying the process, challenging as it is. Score! On the other hand, their old man has been a major disappointment. I have sneaked out and found a wall to hit against a couple of times–reminding myself, happily, of the way I passed most of the Summers of my youth–but have not been ambitious enough to find people to play with regularly. I remain a rusty, has-been/wannabe tennis player. Bummer!

On the adventuring front, I wish I had tons of scintillating tales to share from locales across my state and all the way to the Rocky Mountains. Alas, I do not. We have been to the lake cabin to visit family a couple of times–one weekend and one week–which was wonderful (though admittedly not as often as I had envisioned). The local day tripping, however, has been a resounding FAIL. It seems like there is always one little errand or item on the schedule that has kept me from being ambitious enough to do the required research and commit to taking the trips to the waterfalls and forests. The truth is that it is simple laziness on my part, a laziness that I now plainly regret.

I have, in the place of those deeper adventures, found something to soothe my conscience a bit, or at least distract me from my guilt: library events. Yes, I said library events! At the start of Summer, I found a big, magazine-like brochure published by the county library, advertising all of the events hosted by the several branches in our system. I sat down and spent what felt like the entire day loading them into the calendar on my phone, feeling unusually like a responsible parent as I did so. Anyway, we have played with Legos, made bookmarks, seen magic and comedy shows, and created all sorts of other arts and crafts. And we always come home with even more library books, which assuages my guilt from not being outside adventuring, which is, of course, where I ought to be.

Speaking of adventuring, the biggest disappointment from my Summer ambitions has been my failure to execute the dream road trip to Montana. It pains me to even write about it now, knowing both that it hasn’t happened and, more importantly, that it won’t happen. Not this year, anyway. As painful as it is, though, for this disappointment I feel I have some excuse. We were in the midst of a lot of job uncertainty and transition this Summer, and the financial strain that comes along with that. So, despite my fantasies, the big Montana trip turned out to be not exactly realistic. Not this year. Next year, though…..

All of this both bums me out and freaks me out. I hate the feeling that I am not meeting my Summer aspirations with actions and that I am running out of time on my season. I am creased.

Worse, though, is that my fragile psyche then doubles down on the sorrow/panic carousel when, in my ponderings and journal entries of the week, I realize how this annual ritual is a microcosm of my feelings about my existence as a whole and my place in the great Cycle of Life. I see that this whole emotional swirl around “Oh, how I have loved this beautiful, blessed life of mine!” and “Oh crap, I am running out of time to pack more dreams of adventure and accomplishment, service and impact into my fleeting little life!” is just me with Summer, every year. Just substitute “Summer” in for “Life” and you have a pretty accurate picture of me today. It’s just a thumbnail representation of me at this point in my own journey.

Loving its gifts, already lamenting its passing, and panicked that I need to maximize the joy and opportunity in every remaining moment. That is me in Life. That is me at the end of July.

How about you? Where are you with respect to your ambitions, both for the Summer and for your life? Open up your journal and give an accounting of your inner and outer worlds. Start with the Summer itself. What aspirations did you hold for the season when it began? Was it more about revving up your life with some new adventures or toning it down with some serious relaxation and self-care? Were you hoping to travel? Were there books you wanted to read (or write)? Who were you hoping to spend more time with? What were you going to do with your fitness? Were you going to work less or more? Were you hoping to reduce your stress level? How would you be of service? Was there something–some hobby or passion or joy–that you had gotten away from in recent years that you were going to get reconnected with? In what area was your life going to improve the most? Were you hoping to be happier this Summer? At two-thirds of the way through, how are you doing? Are there plenty of items on your To-Do List checked off already, or are you like me and needing to cram a lot into the final month of Summer in order to feel satisfied? For which type of ambitions have you been most successful? Fitness? Travel? Self-care? Career? In what areas have you clearly fallen short to this point? Is there time left in the season to make up for those shortcomings and create a success story? What type of actions will that require? Are you still invested in making it happen? Now pull back and ask yourself all of these same questions about your life in general and where you are on your journey toward the end? Is your reality matching up to your aspirations? How far off are you? Are you willing to take the necessary actions to raise yourself up to your ambitions, or have you resigned yourself that it is too late to be who you once believed yourself to be? When you look at your current spot on what you believe to be your path through LIFE, what do you feel? Panic? Satisfaction? Sorrow? Peace? Resignation? Gratitude? Bitterness? Relief? Apathy? Excitement? Disappointment? Fulfillment? Regret? Acceptance? Does your feeling about your Summer to this point match your feeling about your life to this point? Leave me a reply and let me know: How well are you maximizing your season?

Seize it all,

William

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P.P.S. If this type of thinking appeals to you, I encourage you to check out my book, Journal of YOU: Uncovering The Beauty That Is Your Truth at your favorite online retailer.

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

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A BOLDER LIFE: Are You Existing or Adventuring?

“I refuse to walk carefully through life only to arrive safely at death.” –Paulo Coelho

Hello friend,

About 25 years ago, I was about the most stable, on-the-right-path guy in the world. I knew exactly what I would be doing in two years, twenty years, and any other year before or after. How did I know? I had been planning it ever since I was little. Everyone I knew was sure of my plan and its success. They, too, had been in on the idea from the beginning. None of us doubted it.

I was pegged as a smart, achieving kind of kid at a young age, and in the small town I came from, the richest, most envied people were the doctors. So, I was going to be a doctor. No question about it. My Dad told me so at an early age, and I never forgot or considered otherwise. Elementary school and high school sailed by with complete clarity about my future, and Pre-Med was in full swing, the Road of Life paved smooth in front of me. Set in stone. I was about to tell the most boring, predictable life story ever.

But then, I changed it. I decided that my life should be a tale of adventure instead.

Well, I didn’t exactly think of it in those terms. I mean, I didn’t say, “My life is now an adventure!!!” It was more like, “I am scared to admit that I have a different dream because then I would have to take a big risk by jumping off the safe path, but I am more scared of living that nice life everyone has always had planned for me but that doesn’t light me up inside.”

I suppose it sounds weird that the safer, more predictable path was the one that eventually frightened me the most. But it’s true. I guess the lure of my dreams just became too enchanting once I finally admitted to having them. I became addicted to that feeling of giddiness–and yes, even anxiety–that bubbled up when imagining how my life could be. It was more risky, sure, but so much more exciting.

You know, like an adventure.

So I did it. And for the next several years, it really felt like a big adventure.

I bounced around the country, living in iconic cities and meeting fascinating people. I acted in the theatre. I learned to surf and practice yoga. I traveled the world. I discovered my journal. I found my spiritual foundation. I read. I wrote. I fell in love.

It was fantastic! Scary sometimes, and almost always uncertain, but every minute engaging and enlightening and invigorating. I was most certainly alive. And I never once regretted jumping off the safe, predictable path (though that doctor money sure would have been nice!).

It is amazing how you can start to clamor for stability and certainty–and doctor money–when suddenly you have other lives depending upon you for cereal and new basketball shoes.

My wife was always the one in our relationship who sought the most stability and provided the most stability. She always had the steadiest job with the insurance and the retirement package. She seemed to like it that way, even as I gave up my career arc and slashed my working hours (and dollars) when our kids were born to maximize my time with them in these irreplaceable years. She was our rock and put up with the silly adventures of her three kids (me and the two little ones), sacrificing some of the fun stuff in order to do meaningful work and keep us in cereal and basketball shoes.

I thought that she would be content on that stable path until she retired. She was so good on it, and I figured that maybe she was just genetically inclined to like that stuff better than I could. I admired her for it and was grateful that she could bear a burden I didn’t seem wired for.

Then, several months ago, she jumped off the stable path, too. Overnight she became an entrepreneur. She had been on a regular salary in a low-risk career her entire adult life–and as a guy who has lived with her for 18 years, that shoe seemed to fit–and BOOM, she decided to take on a new career and no guarantees. Talk about an adventure!

I can’t begin to tell you how impressed I was by this move. As the guy who thought he owned the rights to “trust your gut, dream bigger, take a chance on yourself” in the relationship, I was absolutely tickled to see that side of her emerge. I was so happy for her, and proud. Very, very proud.

I’m a little scared, too, I admit. After all, if you are on the whimsical, perhaps-artistic, not-so-inclined-to-grind side of the spectrum, it is reassuring to be partnered up with someone who is better at enduring the dirty work than you are. But this is what makes her all the more worthy of my admiration: because she was brave enough to follow her heart off the safe and secure path even without a safety net. She is braver than me!

And now, my friend, we are on a real adventure! Who can say how it will turn out or what new ways our family will adapt and grow: new skillsets, new attitudes, new sources of income, new opportunities for play and family togetherness.

That family thing is crucial for us. And even as we try to navigate this new era of uncertainty in our little corner of the world, we use that home base of family as our rock. Now matter how adventurous you are, it is nice to have a few bases of certainty. These people in this house–and indeed, the house itself–are definitely that for me, for us.

So there I was last week, wading these uncertain waters of our new life, when my wife says to me out of nowhere, “Seriously, name a state you are willing to move to.” Like many of us in northern states at this time of year, the bitter conditions outside had pushed her just far enough that day to question her sanity for living here and consider leaving for good. She wanted an answer.

I giggled and decided to play along, sure that nothing would come of it. “Oregon,” I said. Rejected! “Okay, how about Colorado?” “Hmm….” So, right then and there, she hops on the computer and starts researching. And not just for a few minutes, but for over an hour! She gives me stats on diversity, school rankings, all kinds of stuff that matters to us. I actually started getting a little freaked out. In my head, I was like, “Who is this new, ready-for-change person? And are we seriously talking about moving???”

I am relieved to report that nothing has come of it in the ensuing days. I have put it out of my mind. Well, not true: I have sort of put it out. Suddenly, I am not so sure of just how adventurous this lady I live with has become. Might she want to roll the dice and make an even bigger change in our life? And while that is a bit unnerving, I have to admit that it is exciting, too. Invigorating. The overall air of uncertainty about the specifics of our future has sparked something enchanting about our life together. There is intrigue. There is fantasy and dream-building. There is a sense of the potential that we have only just begun to tap.

There is a true sense of WONDER that is nothing short of intoxicating.

I have this sense that, even though I haven’t a clue as to what our future holds, somehow it will be truly magnificent and saturated with blessings. So, let’s throw off the bowlines and let this ship sail in the big waters of LIFE. I am feeling ready for an adventure!

How about you? At this point in your life, are you more drawn to the stable and secure path, or the uncertain and adventurous one? Open up your journal and trace the path your life has taken to this point. Has it always been fairly clear where you are headed, or have you taken some bold leaps off the path and brought a sense of adventure to your world? When you were in elementary school and high school, how did you imagine your adult life? How about when you were in college: was your career path clear in your mind? How accurate have your visions turned out to be for yourself? Do you work in the field that you went to school for? Have you ever switched career fields entirely and started fresh? If so, how difficult was it to arrive at that decision and take action? Are you currently on a career path that is satisfying to you? If not, how likely are you to do something bold to change paths? How soon will you take action? How brave will you need to be? How about the place that you live? Are you satisfied? Have you considered moving to a different area of the country or a different country altogether? Have you done it before? What are the chances? How would you describe your relationship with Uncertainty? Have you made friends with it? Do you fear it like The Plague? On a scale of one to ten–with one being “Bore Me With Stability” and ten being “Bring On the Change and Adventure”–where has the path of your life revealed you to be naturally drawn to? How has that changed as you have aged? Generally speaking, why do you live the life you live now? Is it because you don’t dare to try another one? At the end of your days, is that answer going to satisfy you? Leave me a reply and let me know: Is your life a daring adventure or a safe walk?

Be brave,

William

P.S. If today’s letter resonated with you, please share it. A world full of authentic people would be a grand thing!

P.S.S. My new book, Journal of YOU: Uncovering the Beauty That Is Your Truth, is available in paperback and ebook formats from many retailers. To get yours on Amazon, go to http://www.amazon.com/author/williamrutten Thank you for your support!

Goals, Goals, Everywhere Goals: Aiming for a Bigger Life

“The moment you put a deadline on your dream, it becomes a goal.” –Harsha Bhogle, The Winning Way

Hello friend,

I have never been much of a goal-setter. Don’t get me wrong; I have always been a dreamer and driven to do great things in my life. I have taken risks and made sacrifices in my attempt to leave my mark on the world. But I have done all that without setting many specific goals. I can’t say why exactly. It just didn’t feel like me. Maybe it’s because I don’t like to feel contained, and goals can sometimes feel like fences to me. I have typically preferred to trust my intuition on how much of something I need, where I need to push, and where to pull back.

But in the last few years, as I have continued to examine my life in my journal and in these letters to you, I have had this creeping sense of disappointment and regret as it has become increasingly clear that I have failed to live up to all of those dreams and ambitions. Eventually, I was bound to ask myself why, and I have been slowly allowing those questions in. I wondered if maybe it was because I haven’t pushed myself hard enough and consistently enough to make the big strides I imagine myself capable of. But why? After all, I had the dreams. I had the drive. I began to wonder if maybe I just didn’t have the right plan. Maybe I needed a new method.

Enter Oola.

A couple of months ago, my sister, who is into self-help/personal growth books and always has her eyes open for things that can help her and her business grow, treated me to a new book that she had been raving about. It was called Oola: Find Balance In An Unbalanced World. In it, the authors, Dave Braun and Troy Amdahl, write about the importance of living in a way that is balanced and growing in all the major areas of life, what they call “The Seven F’s of Oola”: Fitness, Finance, Family, Field (career), Faith, Friends, and Fun. In my old Life Coaching classes, this resembled what is commonly referred to as “The Wheel of Life”.

I am always on the lookout for tips on doing LIFE better, so I plowed through the meat of the book, taken in by the stories of these two guys and how the seven aspects played out in their lives. I knew they grew up in my neck of the woods and were of a similar age, so I also wanted to glean some insight into how they became successful and which tips I might borrow for my own life.

A couple of weeks ago, as I approached the very last section of the book, I was thinking I wasn’t getting much that was soul-stirring or deeply inspirational out of it. I was eager to be done with it, hoping to find something a bit more life-changing from my next read.

But in those last pages was a challenge that would change the entire experience for me. Well, at least I hope it will.

Whenever someone tells me they read my weekly letters or that they read my book, I always want to know if they do more than read it. Do they write their own journal entry about the questions raised? Do they engage someone in a conversation about it? Do they at least take some time to ponder the issue and how it intersects with their own life? I tend to think that the only way to get anything out of my writing is to truly engage with it: to ponder, to discuss, and hopefully to write about it. I definitely hope that my words will be more than just read. Speaking as the sensitive author, I don’t feel like my work can be fairly judged unless you have done the deep diving.

So there I was, beginning to judge the Oola book, when it turned the tables on me. It asked of me what I ask of my readers: to get out my pen and dive deep into the way these “Seven F’s” could change my life. The only catch: I had to set goals. And not just a few, but twenty-one: three for each of the seven areas on the Oola Wheel.

What a predicament! Of course, the idea of setting twenty-one goals–specific, measurable type of goals–was immediately off-putting to my personality, so I was inclined to reject the challenge outright. But. (Oh, the BUT!) But it seemed like my integrity was on the line. How could I defend my own writing’s quality from people who didn’t fully engage it if I wasn’t willing to fully engage this book? That wouldn’t be right. And the other, bigger BUT. But how can I keep rejecting goal-setting if my usual, comfortable method of just going with my gut hasn’t gotten me where I want to be in life?

The writing was on the wall. It was time to get out of my comfort zone. And so it came to pass that I took my pretty-but-somewhat-blurry dreams and gave them some definition, some real numbers, some deadlines.

I made goals. Twenty-one of them. Here they are:

FITNESS

Get my weight to 203 by December 31, 2018. (That is somewhere from 5-7 stubborn pounds to lose.)
Do a full yoga practice at least once per week.
Add rowing to at least one cardio workout every week.

FINANCE

Make more money than we spend each month.
Get a higher paying job with benefits.
Put $250 into a vacation fund every month.

FAMILY

Have one Family Game Night/Family Movie Night per week.
Have one devoted couple activity (game, TV show, whatever) per week.
Take the epic Montana Road Trip by the end of 2020.

FIELD

Get a “real job” involving writing as soon as possible.
Spend time every week writing my next book.
Join my wife full-time in her new business by January 1, 2020.

FAITH

Meditate 15 minutes per day.
Take a weekly nature walk practicing mindfulness and gratitude.
Develop a nightly gratitude “prayer” or practice.

FRIENDS

Connect with Johnny in person at least once every two months.
Engage one new person in conversation each week.
Re-connect with one different old friend by letter or phone call each month.

FUN

Become a regular tennis player again–once a week–in the warmer seasons.
Write my second book–spend devoted time every week.
Practice the guitar at least three times per week for at least 15 minutes.

Of these twenty-one, the Oola guys recommend that while you can keep all of them and work toward them, it is helpful to pull out your top seven that would make the biggest impact on your life right now (it doesn’t have to be one from each area). I chose these seven:

Make more money than we spend every month.
Get a “real job” involving writing as soon as possible. (I also chose this as my “OolaOne”, the single thing that would make the biggest immediate impact.).
Meditate 15 minutes per day.
Write my second book, devoting time every week.
Practice my guitar at least three times per week, at least 15 minutes each.
Have one devoted couple activity each week.
Re-connect with one different old friend by letter or phone each month.

There they are! It was a grind for me, I fully admit, but even my fluid mind is sitting here appreciating how concrete they all look in their tidy lists with all the details included. It definitely helped to use the popular goal-setting method called S.M.A.R.T. (Specific, Measurable, Accountable, Realistic, Time-based), as that kept me from being vague and slippery. These definitely feel more like the opening quote: like dreams with deadlines. Goals.

Having just finished the exercise, I can tell that all of the specifics are very new to me and my usual processing. My inner world is trembling a bit, no doubt. My cheese has been moved. But I can also see how this will be really, really good for me. That is, it will be really good if I follow this up with the appropriate action steps, like daily To-Do Lists filled with items that work directly toward those goals. I am excited, both to start achieving these goals and just to see my world through a new set of lenses. I think I needed it. No, I’m sure I did. Now that I have some goals, I am charged up and ready for action. I’m off to get my Oola on!

How about you? How do you do with goal-setting in your life? Open up your journal and examine the role of goals in your world. Do you have specific goals in your life right now? What are they? Are they far away things–like an advanced degree or retirement–or something you will accomplish within the next year? How aware of your goals are you on a day-to-day basis? Do you use them to guide your behavior on a normal day, or are they just something you check in with once in a while to see if life is generally heading in the right direction? How specific and measurable do you get in your goal-setting? Do you have exact dates and numbers in mind so you can be certain as to when the goals are reached? Do you have someone in your life who holds you accountable for your goals, or do you count on your own discipline to get you there? Would an accountability partner help? How realistic are your goals? Do you have a strong chance of reaching them? Do you gain confidence when you reach a goal, no matter how small? Whether or not you currently have goals or are aware of how balanced and growing your life is, does the concept of setting multiple goals in each area of your life appeal to you? Have you ever done something like this? So, go ahead. What are three goals you can make for yourself in each of the seven areas: health & fitness, money, family, career, faith/spirituality, friends, and hobbies/fun? In which area are goals easiest for you to make? In which area are you most likely to achieve your stated goals? In which area are you most likely to fail? Is systematic goal-setting foreign to you? How does it feel now doing it? Does it make you more eager to make a plan to achieve them? If you had to choose one goal to pursue that would make the biggest impact on your life right now, which one would it be? Are you willing to commit to that? What small steps can you take today to move in that direction? Leave me a reply and let me know: Which goals can you set to move yourself in the direction of your best life?

Go get it,

William

P.S. If this resonated with you today, please share it on social media. Let’s go after our dreams together!

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.

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