Dylan Brooks | Words of the West

Our Only Self

You’ve probably heard the phrase “I’m going to be my best self today” before.

I think it’s a load of bull.

The person who we are and the person who others see — that should be the same person. If we’re putting different versions of ourselves on display, it means at least one of them ain’t real. And that ain’t right.

We owe it to our loved ones and ourselves to be real. What you see is what you get.

But what if others don’t like what they see? Then there are three options: create different personas to please everyone, stay true to yourself and please no one, or make changes in order to find a middle ground.

When people talk about being their best selves, they think they’re choosing the third option, but really they’re going for Column A. This makes them superficial and shallow.

If you’re shallow, others will walk right over you.

No one wants that, but in the quest to be “our best selves,” we end up in that particular lava pit — fossilizing into a meaningless existence, the memory of which will eventually be forgotten when others find something new to fawn over.

I know this, because I’ve been there.

The place I was raised is not the place I call home today. The road from one to the other was long and winding, and once I got to my destination, there was a temptation to shun the path I’d traveled to get there. It was easy to pretend that I dropped out of the blue, that my past was insignificant.

But that was wrong.

I’ve learned to embrace my past and my future. Sure, it can lead to a lot of awkward conversations with the people I’ve interacted with at various touchpoints on the incomprehensible path I’ve taken — there is no Google Maps for my life; it’s been mostly uncharted. But at the end of the day, I’m being real with everyone I come across, and that sentiment is translatable.

So what to do when you’re trying to improve your life without falling into the “best self” abyss?

It’s simple.

Think about what the change is for.

Is it to change other’s perception of you, or to improve your own life? Is is to improve your popularity or to grow your self esteem?

These attributes are often lumped together, but they shouldn’t be. Basing changes to your own life off of the predicted reactions of others is the shallowest and most selfish thing you can do. Gradually improving your life habits while staying on course with your True North will not only help you live a fuller life, but also help solidify your legacy.

Someone who’s real is golden. Someone who’s real and on the continual path toward self-improvement is memorable.

So instead of trying to be your best self, focus on being your only self. Don’t reinvent it. Improve it.

(And don’t post naked bathroom selfies on Facebook. You’re better than that.)

The Wreckage Of Radical Thinking

These are trying times.

Our way of life is under attack by those we cannot understand, and who refuse to understand us. Undocumented people within our borders cause uncomfortable situations, while a booming international drug business is causing problems on multiple fronts. The color of our skin can be a de facto death sentence in certain encounters with law enforcement. Our rights to self-defense, privacy, speech and religion are threatened by — of all things —our own actions.

These are turbulent times indeed, compounded by our collective difficulty grasping one key concept.

Complex problems can’t be solved by simple solutions.

A concise rational statement. But we seem to have lost all rationality these days, as many are convinced that by simply removing a set of people from our midst, we’ll make everything better.

It doesn’t work that way. Why? Because no matter how you classify us — black, white, Asian, Hispanic, Muslim, Jewish, Christian, cops, businesspeople, journalists — we have rights in this country. We have rights to live and defend ourselves. We have rights to spiritual beliefs and to free expression. We have rights to moments of privacy. We have rights to public safety. And, provided we don’t unduly impinge upon the safety of others, we have a right to freedom.

Change is good. Progress is good. But when radical responses to injustice catch fire, an entire subset of our society is denied these inalienable rights — and everything that we should stand for goes up in flames.

It ain’t progress when we ostracize all law enforcement officers for the abhorrent actions of several bad ones. It ain’t progress when we propose disarming our entire society completely, even in the wake of senseless tragedies. It ain’t progress when we threaten to kick out all the Mexicans, or all the Muslims.

For when we do all this, we succumb to closed-mindedness. We regress into an ugly past where some human beings within our borders were considered three-fifths of a person based on the color of their skin. We open the doors for those with the lethal combination of ultimate power and evil intentions to order a mass exterminations of a subset of our population. We threaten to shun our societal values — the unique mixture of cultural diversity and universal rights that has allowed our culture to transform the world.

So, when it comes to pushing our culture forward in the wake of tragic setbacks, we should not let our emotions goad us into radical decisions. Instead, we should show restraint and take a more moderate, central path toward improvement.

By staying true to who we are, we can ensure that who we will be is so much better.

Owning Our Mistakes

It was an unusually wonderful Thursday evening. Instead of staying home and watching Shades of Blue, I was at a bar in Dallas connecting with fellow University of Miami alumni. A couple drinks were had, many stories were shared, and the hours flew by.

Friday morning hit me like a ton of bricks. As I went through my 6 AM zombie-like wakeup routine for one final time that workweek, it dawned on me:

Did I ever pay for my drinks?

The answer was no.

My heart started racing. I’d made many mistakes before, but this was a particularly big one. And the fact that I didn’t even notice the mistake until 12 hours later compounded the issue. In this case, ignorance most certainly was not bliss.

My pride, integrity and morality were on the line. I’d screwed up — and screwed over a waitress who was relying on my gratuity. Immediately, my mind fixated on one question:

How will you respond?

There were really two options: I could have just moved on as if it never happened, or I could have tried to make it right.

I chose the second option.

I called the bar when they opened Friday evening, apologized and tried to settle my tab. It turned out an official from the Alumni office who was at the event had picked up my tab, and I later learned the University had reimbursed him for the expense.

Why am I bringing all this up, aside from sharing how I accidentally got the University of Miami to cover some adult beverages?

Well, in the course of our lives, we will make mistakes. Some of these will be small errors, like accidentally cutting the line at the deli. Others might be more significant, like forgetting to pay for your drinks.

In these cases, what happened doesn’t really matter. How you respond does.

Are you the kind of person who will strive to make it right? The one who will fix what’s broken and learn from your errant ways? Or will you move on down the line as if nothing ever happened?

Your answer depends largely on who you are on the inside. Your moral compass, the standards you set for yourself, your drive to learn and improve — these will all define the choices you make in these moments.

It’s been said that one’s true character is illuminated by the fires of adversity. Well, mistakes are self-inflicted episodes of adversity. The aftermath of these gaffes provide the opportunity for you to show who you truly are and how you can make a difference.

So own your mistakes. Then rectify them.

The Constants In Change

Things ain’t what they used to be.

These days, it seems as if our world is changing at the speed of light. Fifteen years ago, the Internet was still a shiny new toy; today that toy is in our pockets, on our wrists and even accessible in Gabon. The way we travel and live is being reimagined by Uber, urbanization…and soon, self-driving cars. How we live, what we eat, where we shop, who we interact with (and when we make those interactions) — it’s all being revolutionized.

This is far from the first time that a cultural shift has transformed society. The renaissance, the dawn of capitalism, the inventions of the telephone, railroad and car — these have all led to seismic shifts of thought. But something feels different this time, arrogantly different. And frankly, it’s a bit frightening.

You see, the trail towards our Technocultural Revolution was paved by those who didn’t just break the rules of conventional thought, but instead blew those rules to bits. Tech giants Apple, Microsoft and Facebook were created by college dropouts — and opinionated college dropouts at that — who weren’t going to let the rules of the past interfere with their visions of the future.

As a result of this thinking, Apple, Facebook and Microsoft — along with companies such as Google and Amazon, which were actually founded by college graduates — took the world by fire, redefining norms not only for technology, but also corporate society. (Look no further than the proliferation of startups to see my point in technicolor.) This is all fine and good on a basic level, but the imprint these companies have left on our culture is a double-edged sword.

Too often today, there is a prevailing attitude that the past is wrong. As a new generation of adults settles into urban apartments — and eschews the car, cable TV and other amenities for smartphones with access to Netflix and Snapchat — they quickly wage war on the world they’re leaving behind. While suburbia might be inefficient, gas guzzlers might be bad for the environment, and red meat and gluten-rich might not be the healthiest dietary choices, this ain’t exactly the Jedi/Sith showdown our now-dominant culture is making things out to be. As a suburbanite with an SUV and a hankering for a home-cooked steak every now and then, I can attest that the old ways can work just fine. And countless people were able to meet, fall in love and get married long before the advent of Tinder.

This ultra-defiant attitude young adults display toward the norms of yesterday is obnoxious on its owns. But as it spreads to other sectors — such as commerce and politics — it becomes extremely dangerous. In the midst of the race to reinvent culture, the rising leaders of today would be wise to remember the past — even if only to avoid repeating it.

Take a look at what’s happening right now. Many young adults might not care that oil prices and Wall Street are in a tailspin — after all, their life choices have led them away from a dependence on both. But recessions affect everyone, irreparably damaging both lifestyles and futures. “Outsider” Presidential candidates (on both sides of the aisle) threatening to bulldoze and redefine our federal government might be seen as the saviors of a “broken” Washington, but let us not forget that this was exactly the scenario that led the the rise of Nazi Germany. (Think that’s too far off-base? We already have one extremely popular candidate threatening to remove Muslims and Hispanics from our nation.)

It’s naïve, selfish and shortsighted to think that throwing out the past in favor of the future will lead to the world singing Kumbaya around a campfire. The world simply doesn’t work that way. Instead, it’s important to have some constants in the process of change, as all that which came before us could help us better define what comes after us.

As we move forward, our collective boat should navigate the crests of change with the swells of constants. This way, we all may adapt and thrive, instead of capsize and drown.

Adapting Our Expectations

Another Super Bowl has come and gone.

Our biggest sporting and television spectacle brings its quirks with it — commercials people actually pay attention to, a halftime concert featuring a bizarre mix of artists, political statements and semi-elaborate sets, and a hefty amount of overindulgence. It also brings us some memorable moments, and a newly minted National Football League champion.

The NFL’s Most Valuable Player, Cam Newton, was not that champion this year. But after the confetti rained down and the Vince Lombardi Trophy was raised up by his opponents — the Denver Broncos — he became one of the game’s memorable moments.

Meeting with the hordes of media — as is his obligation after the game — Newton looked morose. So often bold and outspoken, the 6’5” quarterback seemed to be hiding under his Carolina Panthers hoodie, quietly giving one or two word answers before storming off.

It was not what anyone was looking for from the new face of football. Even in his early days in the league, when struggles and frustration were commonplace, Newton spoke candidly about his need for self improvement. Now, on the game’s biggest stage, Cam let his emotions get the best of him. And he got roasted for it.

I don’t believe that’s right.

It’s easy for the media to demonize those who don’t play by their rules or expectations. I know this innately, because I used to be in the media. But what I don’t know is what it feels like to fail in front of 115 million people and then candidly answer tough questions about how I’ve failed.

I can’t imagine how brutal that would feel — even though I have a folder in my inbox filled with 150 job rejection emails I received three years ago during my career transition. I was out of work for 3 months back then, living week by week in a hotel in a strange city, with no friends nearby to keep my spirits up and job rejection after job rejection eating into my soul as my savings were slowly depleted.

Needless to say, it was a low and frustrating time for me — but I didn’t have to answer pointed questions about it in full view of half the country.

Think about it. We all have times where we felt like that, where we wanted to be left alone. So did Cam. But he couldn’t be left alone, so he did what he could to power through the situation and move on. And he damn sure did a better job than I would have done in that situation.

It’s time we adapt our expectations. Not everyone can be like Newton’s Super Bowl opponent, Peyton Manning — who, after a brutal double overtime playoff loss in 2013, answered every question thrown his way before quietly going to the opponent’s locker room to congratulate Ray Lewis (who would retire after winning the Super Bowl weeks later). That’s the standard the media sets, but it really should be considered above and beyond.

Cam Newton is an amazing talent, a phenomenal athlete and a heck of a football player. He’s a leader, an inspiration and, by all accounts, a great person. He’s brash and flamboyant, but also strong and determined. He’s the face of football for years to come.

We caught him at his lowest in the aftermath of Super Bowl 50. He’ll learn from it, he’ll adapt and he’ll grow.

When it comes to our expectations, it’s high time we did too.

A Pressing Transformation

As I was out shopping for golf spikes a few weeks ago, my mind (quite naturally) fixated on one name: Johannes Gutenberg.

Let me explain.

You see, a trip to the golf store is never simple for someone with wide feet — especially when that person is on the hunt for the elusive black Nike spikes that will fit him, both in style and comfort. Inevitably, some poor employee will swing by and try in vain to find me what I’m looking for; when this happens, I’ll invariably start thinking about how it is that people can make their living selling golf equipment.

Zooming out further, I’ll start considering how an entire industry has cropped up around what is — at its most basic elements — an elaborate obstacle course. There’s plenty of money to be made in golf — not only for those on the PGA Tour, but also for those caddying, teaching lessons, managing the grounds or working the pro shop. It’s impressive, but it’s also confounding.

As far as I know, golf started out not much different than lawn games like croquet did. It was a high-class form of entertainment that rewarded those most skilled at hitting a ball around a course and into certain access points quickly.

Golf wasn’t an occupation back then. In fact, there were few occupations in Scotland of the Middle Ages — or anywhere else, for that matter. Society was mostly agrarian, with families working the land to provide for their own while under the reign of a king or queen. Communities were segregated, and ideas did not have the technology to spread to the masses quickly; both of these factors helped keep the system in place.

Enter Mr. Gutenberg.

By bringing the printing press to the Western world, Gutenberg allowed society to spread ideas both quickly and widely — all through the power of the written word. Enlightenment soon swept across Europe, followed by industrialization and the dawn of capitalism. Eventually, governments replaced monarchies, Europeans founded new nations in the Americas and an industrialized, free market began to redefine the world.

So what does this have to do with golf?

Well, as the world changed following Gutenberg’s innovation, golf changed with it. The game gradually transformed from a marginalized leisure activity in a collection of hilly fiefdoms to a global phenomenon that’s enjoyed by a wider variety of people.

Golf has also found its way into the heart of the capitalist commercial world. People are much more likely to play golf on business than, say, baseball. This fact (along with the exclusive allure of the country club) has helped make the golf course a staple of the landscape in America and countless other nations. It’s also led to the growth of that lucrative golf industry I come in contact with when I need golf spikes, or to take a couple dozen hacks at the range.

So thank you, Mr. Gutenberg. Without your printing press, the world would be a far different place. And without as much golf in it, I dare say it would be a sad place too.

A Matter Of Perspective

Think of what you have over what you have not.
Think of who you are over who you are not.
Think of where you’ve come over where you have not.
Think of when you learned over when you did not.
Think of how you’ve grown over how you have not.

Think of what you do over what you do not.
Think of who you can inspire over who you inspire not.
Think of where you can improve over where you can not.
Think of when you should make a difference over when you should not.
Think of how you’ll make the world a better place over how you will not.

Success. Fulfillment. Satisfaction.

It all starts with perspective.

More With Less

I am a huge fan of the TV series Justified. For six seasons, the show brought a potent mix of vibrant characters, dark comedy and dramatic tension to my living room. It also brought this gem of a line into my consciousness.

“Boy, you say 40 words where four will do.”

Nine words of brilliance. Brilliance that cuts deep.

I am a writer. While it might not be the way I make my living per se, putting words on paper is my greatest talent.

Yet this gift comes combo-packaged with the curse of long-windedness. Indeed, I often say more than I need to in my writing; worse still, I become an unconscionable blabbermouth when I spend extended time with family and friends.

I know why this happens. I subconsciously feel the extra words will allow everyone to understand something I previously implied. I often have trouble deciphering implied meanings, so I aim to be an empathetic communicator for all who I can connect with.

But this strategy is foolish. Writing is about forging an emotional connection with your readers. Verbal communication with one’s inner circle is no different. That connection can be powerful when done right, but every extra word or unnecessary thought dilutes its potency, much as water dilutes alcohol.

This is why the most influential communicators have mastered the art of efficiency. Writers from Mark Twain to Seth Godin have imparted wisdom in short phrases, time and again. The impact of their words outweighs the amount of text on the page. The absence of explanation gives the audience something to chew on, making the prose more impactful and memorable.

My goal is to have this impact both with my writing and my verbal communication. So I strive to show restraint, to listen more and to think before speaking, every time.

It’s a challenge, but one that’s critical for me to take on. For if I want to be the best communicator I possibly plan, I must master this manta:

Say more with less.

The Show Me Moment

“Do you have any questions?”

Five simple words. One question mark. But when they were directed towards me in my younger days, I’d transform into an arctic glacier.

It all made sense. Still does.

You see, I was a shy kid, the son of teachers. To me, routine and familiarity were crucial back then; going off-script was deadly. If I asked questions when prompted to, whether it was in class, at an interview or elsewhere, it would show that I didn’t get it, that I couldn’t follow. Little did I know back then, but the silent treatment instead proved that I truly didn’t get it.

Leaders don’t follow. Leaders communicate.

A prompt for questions is not a chance for the stragglers to catch up; it’s a chance for the best and brightest to stand out. Those that ask quality questions when prompted simultaneously prove their retention abilities while upping the ante by stimulating intellectual conversation.

With apologies to the great state of Missouri, it’s the real Show Me Moment.

I don’t know for sure when I figured this out and shook myself out of my adolescent daze. But I do know that for the past decade or so, I’ve made it a point to come up with high-quality questions at nearly every job interview, webinar or presentation I’ve been to. I’ve used a combination of advanced research and on-the-fly thinking to come up with these questions, but more importantly, I’ve rarely hesitated to ask them.

I’ve also found that you can learn a lot from the way a presenter, interviewer or teacher answers the questions you pose. For instance, I find when someone says, “Great question” and pauses before responding, it means my question hit the mark. I caught them off-guard in a good way — as they now have to think of a response on the fly.

Eliciting the “Great Question” response is powerful for several reasons. For one, it shows that you’re ready to take the discussion to the next level intellectually For another, it turns the tables on the person asking for questions; instead of them taking you out of your comfort zone, you’ve taken them out of theirs. And when those gears are suddenly and unexpectedly firing in their mind, a funny thing happens. You suddenly become more memorable to that person.

In essence, asking high-quality questions can help you stand out in a productive, non-obnoxious way. You’ll be seen as a great communicator, a sophisticated mind and a person worth paying attention to. This is true not only in the classroom, conference room or presentation space, but throughout life as a whole.

So don’t be afraid to ask those questions when prompted. Seize your Show Me Moment.

A Better Resolution

A new year is upon us. The changing of a digit on the year field was, once again, strangely a cause for celebration, indulgence and clichéd Year In Review lists. But once the confetti cleared and the hangovers lifted, something far worse took over our collective consciousness — those dreaded New Years Resolutions.

If you can’t tell, I’m not exactly a big fan of New Year’s. I mostly view it as a clerical holiday mixed with too much drinking, something we arbitrarily celebrate to inflate our own importance. In the natural order of the universe, it’s quite strange for billions of people to go nuts and drink champagne at a certain point of a random winter’s night. But because we’ve standardized our calendar to stop at a certain point, we’re convinced that something different has happened once it does.

Which leads me to those damn resolutions. Since we’ve deluded ourselves into thinking that something magical happens when the clock hits midnight on New Year’s Eve, we collectively decide to make broad changes at that time — whether that’s losing weight, saving money or being nicer to others.

But here’s the thing: Arbitrarily making resolutions simply because it’s a new year is selfish.

Don’t believe me? Well take a step back and think about what the impetus for some of those resolutions are? A weight loss resolution is often a reaction to holiday overindulgence, or a single-minded quest look good in a swimsuit in the summer. A resolution to save money is similarly inward-focused; we’re more likely to use that money to buy more things for ourselves than to help those in need. And if you have to make an arbitrary resolution to be a nicer person, well, shame on you.

These resolutions don’t really have much of an impact on the lives of those around us. They just make us feel better when we look in the mirror — or at least make us feel less guilty.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with self-improvement. But the start of a new year shouldn’t be the driving force behind it. For one thing, our heart is likely not spearheading these changes. For another, it’s harder to stay accountable when you’re doing something because a calendar told you to.

This is a big reason why none of my self-improvement initiatives have started in January. I started working out regularly two and a half years ago, and I’ve yet to go a week without at least 10 minutes on the treadmill since. I gave up McDonalds 18 months ago and haven’t set foot in a Golden Arches, Burger King or Wendys since then. And my last sip of soda was three months ago. All three decisions came from the heart — not an arbitrary date on the calendar. Because of that, I’ve remained committed to them.

So as this year continues, I urge you to make resolutions. I urge you to seek changes that make your life better and improve the lives of those around you. But most of all, I urge you to only take up these resolutions when your heart is fully committed to them.

Happy New Year.

Author: Dylan Brooks