Month: February 2018

Ideal or Real?

Wouldn’t it be great if…?

We’ve started a sentence or three this way before.

The premise is simple: The status quo stinks and there’s a better reality to strive towards.

In other words, there is a gap between what’s real and what’s ideal.

This gap is a reality for all of us in an imperfect world. Life doesn’t go our way all the time.

Whether we have a lot or a little, there are things we want improved. There are days we wish we had a mulligan on. And there are times when we’re not feeling our best.

We bridge this gap through imagination and communication. By conveying to others our utopia, our ideal situation. Our Wouldn’t it be great if…? moment.

Yet, our perspective on the chasm between where we are and where we want to be can differ greatly from person to person.

Some of us approach this gulf as idealists with realist aspirations. And others look at is as realists with idealist aspirations.

Idealists with realist aspirations look at their current situation with a mixture of hope and regret. By expressing their best-case scenario for the present but then doubting its feasibility.

They might state something like the following: I wish I had enough money to buy a nice house in the suburbs. But let’s be real, that’s not going to happen anytime soon.

Realists with idealist aspirations are more blunt. They admit the imperfection of their current state but express a belief that their fortunes might change down the line.

They might say something like the following: I don’t have enough money right now to buy a nice house in the suburbs. I might not have it for a while. But hopefully I’ll get a raise and a promotion eventually, and this will change.

Neither of these perspectives is inherently wrong. They’re just two different perspectives of the same reality.

That said, there is a common misconception that idealists with realist aspirations are more optimistic than realists with idealist aspirations. I believe the opposite is true.

Admitting the less-than-ideal realities of our world doesn’t qualify as pessimism. It’s simply brutal honesty.

On the other hand, wishing for a utopia yet doubting its feasibility reeks of pessimism.

This approach is particularly bleak because it offers up an alternative reality, but punts on providing a path to get there.

This lack of initiative is concerning.

For if we want to close the gap between how it is and how it should be, we need to work at it. And we need to believe that our work can make a difference.

We need to have hope. For hope brings action. And action brings about change.

These principles are true regardless of the way we look at our current situation. Whether we consider it from a realist perspective or an idealist one, we must commit to change we want to enact in our lives.

By committing to this change, we can close the gap between our reality and our utopia. We can find the joy and contentment we seek. And we can discover the fulfillment that comes from working at determining our own destiny.

The power is in our hands. We simply need to make use of it.

So, let’s not just ask: Wouldn’t it be great if…?

Let’s make it so.

Effort vs. Execution

Try hard.

We’ve heard those words time and again.

The implication is clear: Put in the effort and the results will follow.

There’s only one problem.

It ain’t true.

Now, don’t get me wrong. There’s certainly some value to trying hard. To putting the maximum effort into whatever you do.

But ultimately, we’re not being judged on our effort.

We’re being judged on our execution.

This is a difficult concept for us to grasp. Largely because we’ve spent an entire generation praising and incentivizing effort.

My generation grew up thinking we could be whatever we wanted, as long as we tried. Our parents reinforced that theory by telling us we were special, and that a little initiative would go a long way.

Schools and extracurricular activities gave us participation ribbons, simply for making the effort to compete. Gatorade told us that if we wanted to be the next Michael Jordan, all we had to was put in the work — and drink their product. (Yes, sweat and a sports drink were all we needed to Be Like Mike.)

We carried this message like a William Wallace battle cry. Try hard and the rest will take care of itself.

Then we grew up, and reality hit us in the face like an Arctic wind.

You see, the real world doesn’t care how hard you try. It cares about results.

And if you can’t deliver those results, you will be held accountable for your failings.

I use the word failings here intentionally. For lack of execution is failure.

It doesn’t matter if you poured your heart and soul into something. If you didn’t get the needed result, you failed.

This is a harsh lesson for us to learn.

After all, we’ve conditioned ourselves to find silver linings, to tilt toward empathy in the times when things don’t go as planned. In doing so, we’ve made effort into a security blanket that covers us from the cut-and-dry nature of accountability.

But in reality, effort guarantees us nothing.

Someone with superior talent can roll out of bed and execute on a task better than we could, even with hours and hours of trying. And in a task-execution-based society, they get all the benefits. It’s as if we didn’t try at all.

So why put in the effort?

Because it builds character and demonstrates integrity.

Those attributes are valued in the long run. And they’re within your control.

Yes, execution is more highly valued in the short run. But the chances of success are determined by more than your talents.

There are elements out of your control that can negatively impact your ability to execute. If you don’t believe me, try pitching a tent in a gale-force wind.

Effort, on the other hand, is firmly within your control. And much like your attitude, it’s something that can speak volumes.

So, it makes sense to try. To give your best effort day in and day out.

But it also makes sense to focus on execution. To look for areas where you have a chance to make an impact and devote your maximum effort there.

This will give you the best chance for sustained success. And that success can help drive society forward.

Execution drives results. Are you ready to take the wheel?

Writing It Down

Have you ever loved something, but were afraid to fully admit it?

That’s how I’ve traditionally felt about writing.

The best way to describe my relationship with the art of writing over the years is It’s complicated.

You see, I’ve always had a knack for the written word. Putting words on paper has come easily to me.

And those words have struck a chord in others. I know this because of the comments people have shared with me on my writing, and the grades I have received on written assignments in school.

Writing my greatest natural talent. It is to me as basketball is to Michael Jordan, or string theory is to an astrophysicist.

Yet for many years, I resisted the label of writer. I tried to convince others that I was no different than anyone else when it came to putting words on paper.

Why was that? What was I afraid of?

That answer too is complicated.

Quite simply, there were many elements of writing that didn’t jibe with me.

First, I viewed writing as a solitary activity. One where you’re chained to your computer screen or the pages of a notebook. Earlier in my life, I wasn’t as comfortable with that solitude as I am now. Although I’m an introvert, I still wanted to be around people all the time back then.

Second, I had a healthy dose of imposter syndrome. I’ve long known that the best writers are voracious readers. But I’ve found reading books to be a challenge. Lengthy chapters and huge chunks of text have given me anxiety. They’ve caused me to lose my place and reread the same passage over and over again.

This deterred me from reading over the years. And since I didn’t read as much as I wrote, I considered myself a writing fraud.

Third, I didn’t see a future for myself in writing. Growing up, my parents implored me to consider becoming a journalist, but the thought of writing on a deadline for a living terrified me. I was worried I’d run out of story ideas, and get fired.

And I didn’t find the published author route appealing either. I knew didn’t have the creativity of a Dan Brown or a J.K. Rowling. I recognized I was more of a structured thinker than many great novelists, and rolling the dice on a book release every year or two would be dicey.

With all this in mind, I buried my writing talents. I focused on far-fetched dreams of playing professional baseball or directing movies.

By the end of my first semester of college, I realized these dreams were fantasies. I’d already been cut from my high school baseball team a few years before. And while I went to college as a film major, I quickly discovered that directing required the very creativity I lacked.

I was lost at a very vulnerable time in my life. I didn’t know where to turn for a career, I was surrounded by the distractions of college life, and I had no one to hold me accountable.

But writing saved me.

I’d already been volunteering with the weekly sports show at the campus TV station for a semester when I hit my crossroads. I signed up with the TV station because it gave me an opportunity to be involved with sports, which was my passion. But I quickly discovered a new passion — broadcast journalism.

I loved the process of taking sports news and writing it into small blurbs that could be read on air. I thoroughly enjoyed writing to video. And I felt great satisfaction formulating 30 second highlights that could evoke emotion within TV viewers.

Because of sports and television, I was back on speaking terms with writing again.

I quickly changed my major to broadcast journalism. I started volunteering for the news show at the TV station, and set my sights on becoming a TV news producer. And I did ultimately become a producer at the ABC affiliate in Midland, TX for my first three years of my post-college life.

Sadly, my passion for TV news waned after I had to cover some emotionally scarring news stories. I switched careers and became a digital marketer, at a time when content marketing was coming into vogue.

I leaned on my writing to gain a hold in my new career. I had little confidence in my marketing abilities at first, as I had no prior experience with the discipline. But I recognized that my writing talents were my gift, and that it was my obligation to share that gift with the world.

Still, I felt something was missing. There was so much more that I wanted to share through writing that didn’t fit within my job function. That’s what led me to create Words of the West.

When I launched Words of the West, I made a commitment. I committed to write a fresh article every week. I committed to open up and share my thoughts and reflections. I committed to use my unique talents to help make a difference.

It’s all come full circle. Everything I once feared about writing I now demand of myself.

Why? Because I love writing.

It turns out my talent is my passion. It just took me a long time to realize it.

But I’m so glad I finally did.

The Decentering Advantage

Off the mark.

Regardless of our disposition, those are three words we don’t like to hear.

It means something’s askew. Something’s not as it should be.

This sensation doesn’t sit well with us. So, we seek a cure for it.

We set out to figure out why.

All too often, this means finding the culprit and taking corrective action. Doing so gets us to the three magic words we like a whole lot more: Back on track.

We use this framework to solve problems all the time. It’s efficient and actionable. But it features one major flaw.

Subjectivity.

You see, when something is off the mark, malice is seldom to blame. We don’t all walk around looking to stab each other in the back. No, we thrive on the concepts of trust and community. And we have done so since the earliest days of humanity, when mortal danger lurked around every corner.

So, if malicious intent is not at the root of a missed target, what is? More than likely, you can chalk up these mishaps to misunderstandings.

Misunderstandings are inherently subjective. They’re byproducts of misaligned perspectives between people.

These occurrences are perfectly natural. We each have different programming between the ears. We view the world in our own unique way.

Sometimes these visions don’t sync up with the results we observe. And we find ourselves deeply disappointed.

In these moments, the objective search for truth doesn’t work. Finding the culprit and taking corrective action does nothing except cause further collateral damage — such as bad blood, mistrust and general divisiveness.

We need to stop making misunderstandings a personal quest for vengeance. And start considering the person on the other side of the equation.

We need to decenter.

What is decentering?

It’s viewing the world from a perspective other than your own. And then using that viewpoint to find a productive solution.

Essentially, it’s taking a sledgehammer to The Blame Game, and finding a resolution upon the common ground of objectivity instead.

Now, it can be a challenge putting this strategy into motion. We’re not wired to go from me to we, to abandon our perspective in favor of another’s.

After all, a sense of pride and righteousness is at the heart of most of our conflicts. We have such conviction in our beliefs that we make disagreements personal. We treat our viewpoint as fact and declare war on those who might see the situation differently.

Stepping outside of this foxhole requires us to recognize the solution is bigger than ourselves. That our perspective might even be fueling the inferno in the first place.

It requires us to eat some humble pie, and detach ourselves from our entrenched beliefs. All for the greater good.

This is not a natural leap for us to take. Yet, it’s a critical one.

For once we can truly view the world through the perspectives of others, it can change everything. It can make us more conscientious, more empathetic and more action-oriented.

And this, in turn, can keep us from missing the mark.

Everybody wins.

So, let’s resolve to decenter today. It can deliver a brighter tomorrow for everyone.