Tag Archives: outdoors

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.

Reconnecting With Mother Earth

IMG_1128Hello friend,

“When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.” –John Muir

I have been a bit pent-up lately. Stressed. Conflicted. Disconnected. Feeling the pinch of learning a lot of new things all at once while also running out of time to do all of the things that I feel are essential to my progress toward my dreams. I have spent too much time in my head and too much time in judgment of myself for not doing more and better every day. I have allowed my mind to leave the precious present and drift too long and too often into the future, plotting a million different scenarios for the months and years to come. The need to have it all figured out and be moving efficiently in the “right” direction toward my dreams has overtaken me a bit. Frankly, I have been in need of a break. A chance to pull back a bit, get my bearings again, and ground myself in the principles that mean the most to me. I have needed to refocus, to dial back into who I really am and what drives me. I have just needed to be reminded of all of the magnificent blessings in my life and the greater purpose behind it. I have needed clarity.

So today, I finally had a quiet couple of hours in my schedule. As busy as I have felt recently, it kind of shocked me that these hours existed. I could think of a zillion things that seemed like they “needed” to be done or “should” be done to catch up, keep up, or get ahead. Guilt and Conscience were tearing me in all different directions. But when noon rolled around and I finished my last appointment of the morning, that window in my schedule seemed to reach out to my soul and call to my restless mind. I knew what I had to. I needed to get outside. I needed to find water. 

I love to be outside. The feeling of fresh air on my skin and in my lungs is simultaneously so soothing and yet so invigorating. It simply brings life back into me. The more man-made stuff you can remove from the scene, the better I feel in my heart. I love being with the grass and the trees and the wildlife. Living in a metropolitan area, I rarely get to that cherished feeling of connectedness to Mother Earth that I used to find so easily and so often in my wandering days. Cross-country drives were the norm, with stops at national parks and forests always foremost on the itinerary. In those days and on those trips, bliss and contentment came easily to me. I was always keen to find the next spot that made me feel most certainly that I had united with The Divine.

And there was water. Yes, wherever I felt that Divine Unity most intensely, you could be quite certain that the prominent feature of the scene was water. Forests might be there. Mountains might be there. Spectacular sunsets, too. Perhaps beautiful birds or deer. Maybe even butterflies or fireflies. But always, always water.

A few times in my life I have considered where I might have my ashes scattered if I ever wanted a say in the matter. My mind instantly flies to my favorite locations, spots that have found me in a state of the deepest Peace and Gratitude and Connectedness to my Source. The shores of Avalanche Lake in Glacier Park. A rock in the middle of the roaring McDonald Creek in Glacier, whitewater pouring down the mountain on all sides of me. The shores of the Greek Islands on the Mediterranean Sea at sunset. The shores of the Pacific Ocean, any time of day. The end of the dock at Pelican Lake, sunset. The emotions just pour out of my system as these images flash across my mind in my slideshow of Peace.

Nature has that effect on me. It is so stark and simple in its manner, and yet so utterly powerful and majestic in its beauty and grace. It is dynamic but still so wonderfully, reassuringly constant. Unlike us humans, it has no pretense and no ego to maneuver around. It is transparent. And it is, quite simply, awesome.

That is why, when that little window appeared in my schedule, my pent-up, disconnected mind was achingly, automatically drawn away from my computer screen and out the door of my house, just down the road about a mile or so. I brought along my journal. This is what I had to say:

Alright, this is a good place to write from. I suppose I mean that physically and emotionally. I am floating in my kayak on the edge of Alimagnet Lake, tucked back in a quiet bay. Whenever the easy breeze rises up a bit, my evidence is the sound of a handful of leaves bouncing off the other branches as they float their way to the ground. Future generations of grasses and trees will use these decaying leaves as fertilizer in this beautiful, endless circle of Life. I feel that now. It is nice to be here. Even though the sky shows only the spectrum of grays, being here makes it feel as though it is still a lovely day. The water has a way of doing that. It brings a certain Peace to everything around it. If I had a pillow, I could fall asleep here. When I first got out on the water, I had to kind of convince myself that it was okay to not be doing homework or TJP or starting the next blog post, that I could have this time to just reconnect with the water and that Peace and Mother Earth. I had to give myself permission to float. It is tough for me to make quietude, inner Peace, and connection to Nature agenda items. Tangibles and measurables are easier to justify. This is so, so good for me, though. It has the soothing quality of a hot bath, but it resonates much deeper. It is the kind of place I could sit for hours in serenity and gratitude. Even as I sit here and try to simply be in this moment, it is a challenge to not egg myself into, “I need to do this more often!” Of course I should, but I don’t necessarily want that to be my focus now. That can be one of my takeaways at the end. Right now I just want to take in the ripple on the distant water and the easy floating leaves on the glassy water surrounding my kayak. I want to absorb the magic palette in the trees across the lake and the fluttering of the leaves in the trees behind me. I want to be the water. The magical, wise, constant water. So completely embodying Peace and Power simultaneously. Its effect envelopes me as I gaze and breathe, gaze and breathe. My heart floats like the falling leaf, blissful in the knowledge that it will be gently received by the water’s surface. There is fellowship here. Community. Unity. God. Plainly God. So I peek over at my muskrat friend on the floating tree, give him a “Namaste,” and silently thank him for sharing the world with me. I feel as though I am oozing Peace and Gratitude. I am liquid Bliss. It really is All God. Life is truly beautiful.

And with that, I am back! I feel like I know myself again. I have checked in with home base, gotten my lens prescription fixed, and am ready to re-enter the world. In reconnecting with Mother Earth, I have reconnected with me.

How about you? What grounds you? Open up your journal and explore the places—or people or activities—that center you when you have lost your way. Is it one place specifically, or does it work in any place that resembles your favorite (e.g., any waterfront will do)? Do you need to be alone to find that Unity and Peace, or can other people be present (or must they be)? Do you have to be still (e.g., sitting in meditation or floating in my kayak), or is activity required (e.g., swimming laps or playing basketball or taking a drive)? Is it more about engaging in something fully for you, or about disengaging? How do you define “Nature”? How often do you feel like you get there? How would it benefit you to find it more often? Is there one aspect of it—like the water for me—that centers you most? On a scale of one to ten, how grounded, peaceful, and clear-minded are you today? Would some time on the water make that number go up like it did for me? Leave me a reply and let me know: How do you get reconnected? 

Be boldly the one and only YOU,

William