Month: December 2018

What’s Deserved

There’s an iconic line embedded in the 1992 western Unforgiven.

A notorious gunslinger (played by Clint Eastwood) has his rifle pointed at a corrupt sheriff (played by Gene Hackman). Out of ammunition and injured by a previous bullet, the sheriff has no recourse beyond his words to ward off doom.

“I don’t deserve this,” the sheriff says.

“Deserve’s got nothing to do with it,” replies the gunslinger.

Those seven words carry weight, much like Revenge is a dish best served cold.

Not just on the big screen. But in the world as a whole.

You see, we all too often feel as if we deserve things. As if the results we see in life are validation of our actions or intentions.

It’s not our fault. Society actively promotes this message. Particularly this time of year.

Don’t believe me? Consider what we were told as children about Santa’s naughty and nice lists, and what they might lead to.

Did you want a lump of coal or a shiny new toy? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

The mantra of Do good, get rewarded is hardwired into our culture. We’re raised to believe that if we do things the right way, we’ll see the results we deserve.

There’s only one problem with this theory.

It’s not true.

The world is inherently unfair. Bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad ones.

No matter how much we want to think that we’ll get what we deserve, there’s no guarantee we will.

So how do we respond?

We could look upon this discrepancy with scorn. We could act slighted if we don’t get the result we feel should be coming our way.

But if we do this, the only thing we’ll deserve is the label of whiny or entitled.

No one wants to hear how our day to day lives are less perfect than we desire them to be. For we live in a world filled with imperfection. Lamenting the parameters of our existence is as futile and unproductive as yelling at the sun for rising in the east.

So, no. Much like the fallen sheriff in Unforgiven, complaining does us no good.

It’s far better to take the word deserve out of the equation. To look at the opportunities we’re given as a blessing. To accept the rewards we get for good deeds with humility, and with grace.

This won’t even up the score. Bad things will still happen to good people. Favorable actions won’t always lead to favorable outcomes.

But our mindset will be better. We’ll be more optimistic. We’ll take less for granted.

And that’s a gift that will keep on giving.

So, let’s stop thinking of what’s owed. And start focusing on what is yet to be earned.

After all, deserve’s got nothing to do with it.

Thank God for that.

Taking Up Space

When it comes to impact statements, it’s all too easy to draw a line in the sand.

Are we making a difference, or taking up space?

This is a black and white delineation in a world of gray. Yet, the underlying message remains on point.

We’re obligated to make a difference. To contribute positively to our community. To leave the world better than we found it.

For our society is like an engine. The more its components help it run, the more efficiently it chugs along. The more those components sit idle, the more it drags.

To a great measure, this is unequivocal fact. Regardless our opinion of a social safety net or welfare, there is a cost that comes with providing opportunities. From paychecks to subsidies, nothing we receive to put a roof on our heads, food in our mouths or clothes on our bodies truly comes for free.

This cost is typically offset by the contributions we make to society, and specifically the economy. This could be 40 hours a week helping a company provide a service to the market. Or the generation of ideas or academic thoughts that allow the society to break boundaries and improve efficiencies. These types of activities provide balance.

But when we’re receiving this assistance while sitting on the couch, it could be argued that there is no balance. What we get is more than what we give in return.

Under this definition, we’re taking up space.

Now, opportunity does not always come equal. As such, we may be stuck on the couch not of our own volition.

Regardless, the optics of this outcome are not great.

So, our society often puts stipulations behind handouts. It requires all of us to at least make an honest pass at offsetting the costs behind them.

This could mean applying for jobs. Or filling out forms to explain disabilities that stand in the way of our opportunities.

The underlying message is clear.

As a society, we don’t tolerate taking up space.

 

I learned the mantra of making a difference from an early age.

I recall waving goodbye to my father as he got on the commuter rail in his business suit. Or how my mother dropped me off at school and then headed to her job.

Most acutely, I remember when my father switched careers and became a teacher. He hoped to make a bigger difference in the world, and make his own that much brighter.

A quarter century later, I’d say he has achieved that objective. And he continues to do so.

Following my parents’ example, I’ve worked hard in two careers throughout my adult life. I’ve taken nothing for granted. I’ve embraced each day with a sense of determination and purpose.

In the workplace and out of it, I’ve sought to make a difference. To be productive. Not to take up space.

This mission has guided the decisions I’ve made, both professionally and socially. My mantra of impact has led to my drive and my edginess. It’s filled my daily to-do list with a gauntlet of activities. It’s encouraged me to push my limits and take on more responsibilities.

Each and every day, I am following my mission. I am being productive. I am not taking up space.

But maybe I should be.

Living life as a productivity-holic has its own associated costs. (Is productivity-holic a word? I feel it should be.)

Most notable of these costs is burnout.

It takes a lot of energy to devote so much time to an agenda. Focusing on maximum productivity, on making the biggest difference I can — that constantly requires me to think of What’s Now and What’s Next.

The detritus of this focus can lead to exhaustion.

And exhaustion can weaken a mind. It can lessen its impact.

I have felt these effects loud and clear. Yet, whenever I have, another thought has come to my mind.

Suck it up. Keep making a difference. Don’t you dare take up space.

This is stupid.

Taking a breather now and then is critical. It rejuvenates us and unshackles our mind. It allows us to make our biggest impact.

Yes, taking up space causes a drag on society. But the short-term cost is more than offset by the long-term gain we can provide.

So, moving forward, I will start building these breathers into my life. I will stop viewing the concept of taking up space as heresy.

And I will continue to take up space here and there, as long as such endeavors are undertaken with a greater goal in mind.

While it’s blasphemous for one to prescribe the path they have not yet taken, I encourage you to join me on this journey. For it will provide mutual benefits.

Let us find our pause. And in doing so, let’s refresh our purpose.

The space we take up will not be wasted.

Daily Gratitudes

Each day, before I take my first bite of a meal, I do something peculiar.

I bow my head, close my eyes, and sit silently for a moment.

It’s similar to saying grace. But without the interlocking hands. Without the well-worn lines of thankfulness. Without any audible words whatsoever.

You see, I am not a religious man. But I am a man of faith.

Faith in humanity. Faith in the goodness of the world. And faith in the Lord above who provides us the chance to learn and grow, overcome and prosper.

This opportunity is in itself a blessing. For it provides hope eternal.

Through the good times and the bad, joy and strife, we have the opportunity to make our next move brighter than our last one. We have the chance to experience a brighter tomorrow.

This is all too often forgotten in the bustle of life. The speed of our day to day can make these overarching rays of light seem ordinary and obscure.

We hardly take the time to pause, except when we nourish ourselves.

That opportunity is, in itself, a blessing. Something so critical, yet so simple that it becomes automatic.

Not to me.

I believe that meal time is a perfect time to reflect. To bow my head and show my most sincere appreciation.

So, I do so. But quietly and personally.

What do I silently reflect on?

It depends.

I don’t believe in following a time-honored script. I recognize the power of ancient blessings for various food items, passed down through scripture over millennia. I understand the emotional connection forged by saying grace the way a beloved family member once did.

But, in my case, going over the same lines over and over rings hollow. It’s not specific enough.

So, I do something completely different. I think of a new concept to be thankful for each time I sit down for a meal. It could be an opportunity that lies ahead, a fresh experience in my memory or a lesson I learned in the prior few hours.

I reflect on what these opportunities, experiences and lessons bring me. I consider how they will make me stronger, wiser and better.

Then, I express complete humility and gratitude for them.

I mention this not to evangelize these practices. But instead to promote the overarching idea behind them.

On the day this article is posted, I will become a year older. Traditionally, such an occasion is filed with parties, gifts and wishes.

We take these occasions to recognize how much we matter to others. And to let our hopes and dreams fly free.

These are worthy things to celebrate, and worthy aspirations to hold dear.

But why limit them to just one day?

Every day is a gift. A blessing filled with experiences, opportunities and lessons to help us grow.

When we open our mind and open our heart, we can take something valuable out of each and every day. Not just the days when we’re showered with love and attention. Not just the days where we feel on top of the world.

Every day.

Through the tough times and the good ones, we have the ability to see the silver lining. We can  gain valuable perspective each day we’re above ground.

But without reflection, this intuition is lost. And without humility, we are blind to it altogether.

It’s our responsibility to take internalize life’s abundance. To transform our experiences into a brighter next chapter. To seize the opportunities placed in front of us.  To turn lessons to enlightened actions.

How we go about doing this can vary. But whether we’re silently saying grace at the dinner table or taking a walk around the block to breathe in the fresh air, our daily gratitudes mean everything.

Life is a blessing. Don’t take it for granted.

Getting Whole

How long does it take your world to get rocked?

Sometimes, less than a second.

I was driving down the road not long ago, heading between work and my business school class. It was a mild, sun-speckled day, but appearances were deceiving.

I’d had a rough day at the office. And I was driving to campus to take a quiz I didn’t feel fully prepared for.

Somewhere in the middle lay some solace. As I plodded down Dallas streets bathed in golden sunlight, an episode of This American Life played through the speakers of my SUV. It was a rerun, but a compelling one — part murder mystery, part unexpected journey narrative.

As the episode neared its dramatic peak, I approached a green light. Then…

WHAM.

I felt something slam into the side of my SUV.

The airbags didn’t deploy. My vehicle didn’t veer off course. Yet, I instantly knew something was wrong.

By the time I was able to pull over to the side of the road, I could see that my vehicle was significantly damaged.

It turns out the driver of a pickup truck sitting in the turn lane to the left of my vehicle had decided to bail into my lane without warning. There was nothing I could have done to avoid getting hit.

Fortunately, I wasn’t injured. But I was still greatly inconvenienced.

As I got back in my SUV, I thought of all the new items on my to-do list. I would need to file a claim, schedule repairs and get a rental vehicle. All because of an accident that was in no way my fault.

While insurance would foot most of the repair bill, I would still bear the cost of lost time while getting everything back in order.

And until I was able to get my SUV into the shop, I would need to drive around with a dented door. I would carry the stigma of appearing too cheap to fix the damage or to too irresponsible to have avoided it in the first place.

During that time, I imagined a figurative bull’s eye on my vehicle — with other drivers judging me and avoiding my vehicle as much as possible.  I felt vulnerable and ashamed.

Why did I feel this way? The answer lies in my core tenets, particularly when it comes to responsibility and ownership.

My SUV is the most substantial item I own. It’s also the biggest purchase I’ve ever made.

As a control enthusiast, I feel compelled to protect that investment. I’m obsessed with keeping it out of harm’s way.

This is why I pay extra to park my car in a covered spot. It’s why I drive with extreme caution in bad weather. It’s why I leave a buffer between my vehicle and nearby ones as much as possible.

But of course, protective measures only go so far. The open road is full of risks, from falling objects to aloof drivers. Danger lurks around every turn.

So, when I find myself in harm’s way, I latch onto a new obsession. That of getting whole.

I focus all my attention on what it will take to get things back to normal. As if the mishap had never happened.

And if someone else is liable for the damage incurred, I see to it that they incur the costs.

Call it my pound of flesh moment. Or whatever else you may. But when things go sideways, getting whole is my entire objective.

I’m not sure how healthy this thinking is.

After all, bad things will happen to all of us in life. Things that are inherently unfair and a lot worse than damage to a car door.

When these mishaps occur, the primary focus should be on moving forward. Getting whole is a secondary concern, as it might not be a feasible proposition.

For instance, if we were to suffer a debilitating injury, we might never fully recover from it. Yet, life must go on. We must move forward, even if we do so in a compromised fashion.

I grapple with this dichotomy as I face milder crises in my life. Is it truly worthwhile to expend the energy needed to erase the dents and scratches life can add to my body or my possessions? Am I breaking my own rule by chasing perfection?

Perhaps. Perhaps not.

What I do know is this.

I will keep trying to remain whole as much as possible. To cut out risk and limit instances of my own liability.

And when misfortune strikes — when, not if — I will be resilient. I will focus on getting back on the horse as steadfastly as possible. And I will keep moving forward.

That, in its essence is what getting whole is all about. About taking that hit and keeping on moving forward.

That is where I was, quite literally, in the aftermath of my car accident. But really, it’s where I’ve been throughout the peaks and valleys of life.

And so have we all. It’s what makes us stronger.

Let’s keep that momentum going. Let’s keep plowing forward in the face of adversity and challenges. Let’s do what it takes to get whole.

We’ll be better for it.