Tag: control

Vice Buster

Where’s the sheepskin?

My pulse started racing as I scanned the room for it. I needed it.

I never slept without this sheepskin. It sat atop my pillow in my bed at home. It was packed in my bag whenever I spent an overnight away.

But now, on this overnight trip, it was nowhere to be found. My parents had somehow forgotten to pack it.

And now, I had two options. Stay up all night or put my head directly on the pillowcase.

I was committed to Option 1 for a while. Option 2 was too terrifying.

But eventually, I got groggy. And my resistance faded.

I felt the cool, crisp linen of the pillowcase against the back of my head. And soon I was fast asleep.

The Peanuts cartoon series features many iconic characters.

But one stands out above the rest – to me at least.

Linus Van Pelt.

Linus is a brilliant child who can easily explain scientific or philosophical concepts. His words make the other characters wiser, and they make the cartoon reader feel more enlightened too.

Yet, Linus also tends to suck his thumb like a toddler. And he carries a blanket with him wherever he goes.

This duality is rare in the Peanuts universe. Snoopy might be the only other character with such complexity.

Still, Linus is not unique. Far from it.

At any given moment, there are hundreds of millions of Linus Van Pelt protégés in all corners of our nation. You can find them in school classrooms, on playgrounds, and anywhere else kids gather.

This is no accident. It’s by design. Our design.

We lift up our children, highlighting their earliest moments of brilliance and encouraging more of it. Like a coach training an Olympic pole vaulter, we set the bar high, and then raise it ever higher.

But we also hold down our children, infantilizing them every chance we get. We let them carry around a blanket or suck their thumb until kingdom come. Because the alternative is too distressing – for both children and parents.

We’d rather not see our perfect, brilliant children crying in terror because we took away their creature comforts. And we’d rather not acknowledge that our children are growing up, and primed to turn the page on how we see them now.

So, we let them be Linus. We encourage them to be Linus – for as long as they can be.

This choice might seem inconsequential in the moment. But it carries a long shadow.

You see, the Linus model adds something toxic into the minds of the next generation. Namely, the concept of vices.

The longer children are allowed to hang onto their blanket, their stuffed animal, or their Hot Wheels toy, the more intractable it becomes. Children no longer treat the item like a companion on life’s journey; the item becomes a convenient escape instead.

We eventually do outgrow our blankets, our stuffed animals, our Hot Wheels toys. But as we morph into adolescents and adults, we never can shake the reliance on a convenient escape.

So, we turn to alcohol, to gambling, to excessive sugar, or to a whole host of other grown-up vices. Like Linus, we use these things to hide from the difficulties of the world. But unlike Linus, we have a responsibility to face those difficulties. After all, they won’t simply go away if we turn away from them.

Shirking our responsibility leaves us up a creek without a paddle. And the world suffers for it.

Make no mistake, the Linus model is not a viable one.

Vices are far from harmless. They must be rooted out.

When my family returned from our overnight trip, the sheepskin was on my pillow. Right where my parents had left it while packing for our travels.

I lay my head on the sheepskin, feeling its familiar warmth. And I quickly dozed off.

But once I awoke, a profound revelation came over me.

I didn’t need this item to sleep. The world of sheepskin-less pillows had turned out not to be so terrifying. And even if there were some frights awaiting me down the road, I had what I needed within me to face them. An inanimate object wasn’t going to save me.

I tossed the sheepskin aside and put my head back on the pillowcase. My Linus days were over.

In the decades that followed, I did pick up some vices. But they were all minor flings, rather than committed relationships.

I never let vices get their hooks into me. And when I felt their sharp edges digging into my skin, I shook them off.

Eventually, I started to make a sport of it. While some would cast off unhealthy habits for New Year’s or for Lent, I took pride in ridding myself of them for life.

So, away went McDonald’s, and Dr Pepper, and Jack Daniel’s. Whatever pleasures they gave me in the moment paled from what they would cost me over the long run.

I resolved to face life’s roller coaster with a clear mind and a clean bill of health. And for a time, my sacrifices to this end were the story.

But then life got hard.

A global pandemic hit. My career shifted. My social circle evolved.

I returned to competitive running, only for injuries to tear me apart. I managed to balance my books, only for a shift in the economy to leave me swimming upstream again.

I had every excuse to turn the clock back. To return to my old vices to dull the pain, and to provide me reassurance.

But I left my vices behind, favoring select indulgences instead. The occasional bakery sweet. The more-than-occasional expletive. The daily cup of coffee – black, no sugar – to keep me extra alert.

I wasn’t cowering from that north wind. I was turning into it and letting its bitter sting wash over my face.

These challenges weren’t going to define me. No, that was my story to write.

The Peanuts story effectively ended in 2000, when its cartoonist died. Yet the Linus-ification of society persists.

Indeed, vices are intertwined in our societal ecosystem. There are whole product lines, networks of manufacturing plants, and even a desert oasis devoted to them.

So much of what we cling to is not harmful on its own. But when we ask it to be our salvation, our sanctuary, our beacon of reassurance, we dig ourselves a hole we can’t ever climb out of.

We can do better.

We can take each new challenge as a moment of truth. We can remind ourselves that the courage to meet the moment lies deep within us – and that only we can coax it to the surface.

Once we recognize that truth for what it is, the choice should become clearer.

Do we run and hide from what’s in our midst? Or do we dig our heels in and face it head-on?

The first road feeds vices, exponentially tightening their grip over us. The second road starves vices, redefining them as indulgences.

I’m committed to that second road. Are you?

Controlling What We Don’t Understand

The wind was whipping.

Fierce and determined, it swirled from left to right above our heads as we lined up to field fly balls.

One by one, we took our place in center field. One by one, we saw the ball hit our coach’s bat and head our direction. And one by one, we watched helplessly as the wind took hold of the ball, rocketing it toward left field.

It was frustrating seeing baseball after baseball hit the outfield grass, out of our reach. So, my teammates and I got desperate.

Some of us lined up a bit further to the right. Others ran toward left field at the crack of the bat, hoping to intercept the ball in flight. Still others attempted diving catches while on the run.

It was no use. The wind thwarted us at every turn.

We were trying to control what we couldn’t understand. Why should we have expected anything other than failure?

I am an American.

I’m proud of that fact. I’m grateful to wake up each morning in the land of the free. I’m humbled to live in the home of the brave.

America has long represented the greatest of civilization. It’s stood as the West’s great superpower for generations. It’s scaled innovation. It’s sparked an entertainment ecosystem with global cultural reach.

Yet, America is fortunate to exist as a standalone country at all.

You see, this great country’s roots are tied to a civil rebellion. It originated with a Declaration of Independence, drafted and signed by representatives of 13 British colonies. A formal statement disavowing allegiance to a faraway monarch.

Britain, unsurprisingly, failed to recognize this arrangement. And it sent soldiers across the Atlantic Ocean to restore order.

The impending war seemed like a mismatch on paper. Britain employed an experienced and well-trained fighting force. The Americans employed a ragtag group of rebels, armed with crude weaponry.

And yet, the Americans knew the terrain and the art of disruption. They disappeared from battlefields like ghosts. They hid in the brush, picking off British soldiers one by one. They launched a surprise attack the morning after Christmas.

The American Revolutionary War quickly turned into an elaborate cat and mouse game. And after years of chasing, the British forces eventually walked into a catastrophic trap. A trap that cost them the war and ensured America’s independence.

These events have largely been glorified on our shores for centuries. But the heroics of the ragtag American army were eclipsed by Britain’s colossal failure. Its failure in controlling what it didn’t understand.

Perhaps if the British forces had understood their opponent, they’d have been better prepared for guerilla warfare. Perhaps they would have anticipated the trudges across rugged terrain, the sneak attacks, and the deception. Perhaps they would have gotten the outcome they were looking for.

But they didn’t. And that doomed them.

The British army made its critical error on post-colonial soil more than 200 years ago. Yet the legacy of this error persists today.

America and Britain are now longstanding allies. And their imperial eras are mostly behind them. Still, each nation maintains a testy relationship with immigrants within its respective borders.

The reasoning for this tension varies. The United States has been dealing with a longstanding surge of illegal immigration at its Mexican border. Britain has been contending with the effects of legal immigration from faraway lands it once colonized.

But the underlying threat remains the same in both countries. Namely, the threat of other cultures taking root within the high walls of their societal gardens.

The results of this tension are widespread ostracism and intense governmental policy. The othering of Hispanic and East Asian immigrants is as fierce in America as the othering of Middle Eastern and South Asian immigrants in Britain. America started building a physical wall at the Mexican border. Britain erected a metaphorical one, through its Brexit split with mainland Europe.

These are brazen attempts by American and British leaders to control what they don’t understand. To enforce compliance with their respective nations’ dominant cultures. Or even to deny the opportunity for some to comply with it.

No one is declaring victory in these endeavors. The continued gripes about broken borders and rallying cries for vigilance make that abundantly clear.

But, just as critically, no one is declaring defeat. And that’s just keeping the spiral going.

The 100 Day Plan.

It’s a hallmark of leadership.

From the corporate boardroom to the halls of government, newly minted leaders start with an action plan. A set of predetermined initiatives intended to assert control.

I’ve long maintained a leader’s mindset – and even held some volunteer leadership positions over the years. Yet, I’ve never followed the 100 Day Plan.

When I’ve taken on a new venture, I’ve placed a premium on understanding. Understanding what I’m getting into, who’s involved, and what their perspectives are.

This requires a lot of learning, and a lot of listening. It demands that I humble myself before I even think of asserting control.

It can be a frustrating process in the short term. But it pays off in spades.

For once I do finally clear my throat to speak, my commands will be neither blind nor reckless. My assertions will be grounded in context, and more likely to hit the mark.

I believe a great many of us can learn from this example. I believe that we can follow a more pragmatic path than tilting at windmills.

We can make a better attempt to understand the forces around us. And we can adapt our commands to match that understanding.

If that means reading the wind, and adapting baseball drills accordingly, so be it. If that means acknowledging the cultural realities of outsiders before attempting to box them out, let’s do it. If that means replacing our 100 Day Plans with de-facto focus groups, let’s make it happen.

Control is fragile enough as it is. Better to not shatter it entirely by pairing it with delusion.

Breaking Contain

On my television screen, I watched the opposing team break their huddle. They then lined up opposite the defensive players of my favorite team.

The opposing quarterback barked out some instructions, and the lineman snapped him the football. The quarterback looked around and saw nowhere to throw the ball. So he darted to the left edge of the field as defenders converged upon him.

Great, I thought. We’ve got him!

But as the quarterback neared the white paint of the sideline, he turned the corner with a burst of speed. Now, he was racing past my team’s defenders for a touchdown.

As I sat there, stunned, I overheard the TV commentator breaking down the play.

As a defense, you’ve got to set the edge, he said. You can’t break contain.

That phrase — Break contain — sounded strange to me. It was nothing more than two verbs smashed together. And yet, it perfectly described what had befallen my favorite team in the moment.

As the season went on, I found more commentators using that phrase to describe a capitulation in defensive technique. Apparently, Break Contain is common lingo in football circles.

That said, it might have some legs in other areas as well.

Not long ago, the United States government released a declassified report on Unidentified Aerial Phenomena — what we commonly call UFOs.

The government documented strange instances in the skies that it couldn’t identify. Then, it listed five possible explanations for them: airborne clutter, natural atmospheric phenomena, U.S. government/industry programs, foreign adversarial systems, and “other.”

Many people reading the report fixated on that “other” category since theories about extraterrestrial life would fall under it. But I was fascinated by the U.S. government programs category.

Here was the United States government — an entity with an endless trove of information — saying it didn’t know the scope of its own operations. Effectively, some military or research exercises could have been classified as UFO sightings, and our guess was as good as the government’s as to what was actually happening.

This was stunning to me. Had the government broken contain?

I had never really considered the implications of that before. Sure, the government had many secretive programs —the Manhattan Project, CIA Black Ops, sealed FBI indictments. But there was always some entity overseeing the task. Someone was in the know, even if that person swore that they knew nothing.

But the thought of these programs running rogue? That was truly terrifying.

U.S. government operations being confused for UFOs would just be the tip of the iceberg. All kinds of other calamities might potentially result. After all, this is the equivalent of an airport without air traffic controllers or a freeway without entrance ramps.

But then again, things might be just fine. For there are many entities that break contain regularly, without the ensuing mass calamity.

For instance, Google uses machine learning for its search engine algorithms. Even the engineers overseeing that product have no precise understanding of how it works in the wild anymore. Artificial intelligence has taken over the show.

And weather patterns often vary a bit from the forecasts meteorologists put together. Pop-up thunderstorms and wind gusts are phenomena that can’t always be precisely predicted. Only Mother Nature determines what actually comes next.

Examples like these bring variety to our lives. By removing absolute predictability, they keep us agile. This, in turn, makes us sharper and better.

So perhaps, breaking contain is not something to fret over. It might even be something worthy of applause.

If breaking contain can work so well, why did that moment on the football field go so poorly?

Much of it has to do with what happened after the opposing quarterback turned the corner.

At that point, Plan A was finished. The defenders had succeeded in preventing the quarterback from throwing the ball. But they hadn’t kept him from advancing up the field with a head of steam.

It was a decidedly mixed result. One that the coaches would surely revisit in practice later.

But Plan B was still on the table. There was still an opportunity to minimize the damage.

While the opposing quarterback was charging down the field, he had few teammates nearby to clear the way for him. So defenders had an excellent chance to bring down the quarterback if they all sprinted in his direction.

Yet, Plan B didn’t happen. It wasn’t even attempted.

At the moment of truth, the defenders were mesmerized. And they practically gifted their opponent a touchdown.

This was a failure of execution. But it was also a failure of preparation.

The team had clearly never considered what would happen if the opponent broke contain. There was no damage mitigation strategy.

Meanwhile, other entities that might find themselves in a similar situation — Google’s search division, the U.S. government, meteorologists — are prepared for when things take a left turn. Through a well-practiced game plan, they can manage what chaos might ensue. This allows them to cede absolute control, but not absolute responsibility.

Therein lies the conundrum of breaking contain — it’s only effective if there are guardrails to mitigate the damage. Bending without breaking is key.

My favorite football team had no such guardrails in place. So, when the opposing quarterback beat the defenders to the edge of the field, they were done for.

Why focus on breaking contain? Why allow for the chaos that comes from agility?

Because staying rigid is no less risky.

A system of centralized controls might seem airtight. But should the figurehead in charge fail, the system will fail with it. It’s boom or bust.

We understand this, and we try to plan for it. Succession plans for companies and data backup redundancies for computer networks are two examples of such planning.

But all too often, these solutions are labeled as Emergency Options. And that makes people reluctant to break the glass.

Such reluctance does us little good.

The question shouldn’t be whether our best-laid plans might someday go to waste. The question should be about what happens when they do.

So, let’s test our boundaries. Let’s break contain. And then, let’s focus on the fixes we can make once the best case scenarios are already out the window.

A stumble is survivable. A capitulation is not.

Let It Ride

Going with the flow.

It can be a treasured trait.

There are many who aspire to wake up each morning and see where the day takes them. Each occurrence representing a new adventure, or a new slew of possibilities.

I must admit I do not subscribe to this theory.

My life is far more measured. I crave control and loathe surprises.

The more prepared I am, the better off I’ll be. That’s what I’ve been saying for years.

This mindset has helped me get ahead.

It’s encouraged me to keep my eyes open. It’s helped me to keep learning. And, to a great degree, it’s prevented me from making the same mistake twice.

Yet, I’ve found it’s not a great life philosophy to espouse.

For if there’s one predictable trait in life, it’s unpredictability.

Fresh surprises await around every corner, and the best laid plans often go to waste.

When they do, the key is to not rue our misfortune. Indeed, we are better off adapting to the hand we’ve been dealt and moving forward.

We are better off letting it ride.

In recent years, I’ve slowly started to accept this edict. As I’ve added more and more to my plate — including business school classes and a volunteer leadership position — I’ve come to realize my expectations for how things should go are akin to guesses.

With a jam-packed schedule, I have to be on top of my game for everything to go off without a hitch. But there are plenty of curveballs out there to ruin my carefully choreographed plan. Poor health, bad weather and exhaustion are three that come to mind.

These issues aren’t new, of course. I’ve been wrangling with them all my life to some degree. But with less free time on my calendar and more responsibilities on my plate, their presence has provided me bigger problems than ever before.

Initially, I lamented the opportunities these issues cost me. I shook my fist at the sky after outdoor events I’d planned got rained out. I wondered why that nasty cold had to show up on the week I had plans. I beat myself up over not staying up even later to study for that exam — even if a lack of sleep was what led to my poor marks.

But gradually, I came to realize that carrying this baggage did me no good.

What had happened, had happened. Whether or not I had expected it, there was no use in rehashing the past.

The best I could do was to move forward. To let it ride.

So, I did. And that change had a drastic impact.

First, I noticed that most of what I had previously pined over was immaterial — or, at best, minor. Sure, getting sauce stains on my white shirt was not ideal. Neither was sleeping in and missing my morning workout. But, aside from looking like a slob in the moment or being out of sync with my routine, there were no lingering effects. Better not to waste time and energy on it.

Second, I was better able to think procedurally. When I came across an unexpected occurrence, I was able to think about next steps instead of ruing my lack of foresight. Timeliness was important in these instances. I was wasting far less time paralyzed by the question of what happened and instead spending more of it on the question of what to do next.

And third, my control-centric nature was able to find some inner peace. While it would seem that my lack of concern as to what had already happened would upset my controlling nature, the truth is I couldn’t control what happened if I tried. It was already written, but I had far more control over what came next.

In short, my energy was devoted to the right places. And because of that, I was able to be more productive.

I am not the only one who can benefit from this shift. We all can reap the rewards of letting it ride from time to time.

The key is discretion.

After all, it does us no good to let it ride all the time. If we just leave everything up to fate, we cede the change to determine our own destiny. Worse still, we’ll appear unmotivated and unreliable.

Yet, micromanaging the past is a fool’s errand as well. It does us no use to cry over spilled milk. The past is past.

It’s finding the balance between these extremes that’s the trickiest. Knowing when to let it ride and when to take charge.

It can be tricky finding this sweet spot. But that quest is worthwhile.

So, fight through the discomfort. Take time to determine what to hang on to and what to let go.

And when the situation is right, let it ride.

Under Control

What do you think of when you hear the word Control?

Odds are, the connotation is negative.

Maybe you think of power. Or dominance. Or micromanagement. Or manipulation. Or just someone who’s way too uptight.

Perhaps the label Control Freak comes to mind. Or the word Bossy.

In any case, the message is clear. Control can make monsters of men. And it’s hardly anyone’s redeeming quality.

It’s a shame we villainize the concept of control like this. For in a wild world, it can actually be our best ally.

It can protect us (and those around us) from undesirable outcomes. It can take some of the randomness out of life’s journey. And it can provide us with some semblance of direction when it comes to navigating our destiny.

These benefits have encouraged me to embrace the notion of control. To consider myself a Control Enthusiast. (Kudos to National Car Rental for coining that term.)

I see no shame or malice in this behavior. In my view, this is the only way I can truly influence my life’s journey.

Think about life for a moment. All the experiences we encounter are just a series of causes and effects. Of inputs and outputs.

Those outputs — or effects — are the results we get. The situations we find ourselves in. And those inputs are the actions that get us to that point.

When it comes to navigating this cause-effect construct, there are two predominant schools of thought. Some people ignore the cause entirely, and adapt to the effect. Others try and influence the causes, in order to drive the desired effects.

Control enthusiasts tend to lean toward the second strategy.

We obsess on the details of those causes and inputs. We navigate them with pinpoint precision.

We do this not out of a sense of paranoia, but rather out of a sense of logic.

You see, there’s a tendency to blame unsavory outcomes we all encounter on randomness. On bad luck or unforeseen circumstances.

But while misfortune certainly plays a role in the bad outcomes we must reconcile with in our lives, it might not be the leading one. In fact, there’s a pretty good chance that we had some say over at least some of the inputs that caused the undesired result.

That is to say, there are some things we likely could have done to reduce the chances of the outcome we ultimately encountered.

For instance, let’s say we return to our parked car after a night out and find the windows shattered and our laptop gone. We could determine in that moment that the fates are lined up against us. But it will likely be more productive to consider what we could have done to prevent the break-in. Maybe we could have parked in a safer and better lit area. Or not left our laptop in the vehicle unattended.

Or let’s say we get sick after spending three hours at a late-season football game. We can blame the crowd for spreading germs. Or we could consider how our choice of attire might have impacted our health.

The implications are clear. In both cases, we could have taken steps to better the outcome.

As they say, The less we leave to chance, the less chance we’ll get bit in the…rear end.

 

 Now, of course, being a control enthusiast won’t solve all problems. There are times when we must cede control to others. There are moments when we must place our trust in them to attain the optimal results. It can be difficult to impossible for control enthusiasts to do this without making a ruckus. And these outbursts tarnish public acceptance of controlled behavior.

Fortunately, technology now provides us with some middle ground. Control enthusiasts can now track their checked luggage from origin to destination, thanks to a feature on most airlines’ smartphone apps. And smart doorbells allow control enthusiasts to monitor their home’s front door from hundreds of miles away.

These advancements don’t wipe away the need for trust. After all, something can easily go wrong when we’re physically separated from our homes or luggage. But they do provide control enthusiasts with peace of mind.

Thanks to these tech solutions, there are fewer unknown variables to control enthusiasts to account for. And they can easily read and react to any issues that do arise, instead of wasting effort trying to figure out what went wrong.

Hopefully, these advancements will help change the stigma around control. Hopefully they will empower others to take command of their lives, to take responsibility for the outcomes they have a hand in.

Because a society of control enthusiasts might not be a bad thing after all. It could create a culture of empathy, compassion and common purpose.

That’s a culture worth pursuing. Let’s make it happen.

The Sweetness of Serendipity

Many of the events of our lives can be attributed to serendipity.

We might call it luck, fortune or God’s will. Regardless of the nomenclature, it all converges on the same theme.

Being in the right place at the right time is everything.

If that explanation seems like too vague and simplistic, consider this:

The one constant in our world is motion. The earth orbits the sun yearly, and spins on its axis hundreds of times during that journey. The water that sustains us flows through streams, oceans, and our faucets. Air travels from one place to another — both as a fierce Arctic wind and a warm summer breeze.

And the one constant in our lives is motion. Blood flows through our veins, ideas flow through our minds, and — to the degree that we are physically able — we flow from one location to another in search of shelter, entertainment or prosperity.

With all these forces in motion, collisions are inevitable. We collide both with forces of nature and forces of humanity. It’s a side effect of an environment where nothing is truly in suspense.

Over time, we learn how to handle these encounters. We dress for the elements and learn social etiquette. What was once profound quickly becomes routine.

How quickly we forget the power of these collisions. And the ability they have to define our lives.

Because the path we take is not a matter of fate. It’s a matter of circumstance. Of taking those random encounters and turning them into something fortuitous.

That is the essence of serendipity. The essence of our life’s story. No more, no less.

So why do we keep looking for a higher explanation? On finding patterns in the stars or answers in the heavens?

The answer comes down to one word: Control.

You see, we are obsessed with controlling our outcomes. On free will and the pursuit of happiness. We’ve built an entire society upon these principles, and forged our dispositions upon them.

But it’s all an illusion. In reality, much of what happens in our lives is beyond our control. It’s unpredictable, yet still impactful.

We don’t know how to rationalize these random occurrences. So, we try and fit the square peg into a round hole. We key in on patterns. We speak of fates aligning. We do all we can to regain control of the profound.

There’s a better way to react. Instead of trying to predict the next serendipitous moment, we should prepare ourselves to pounce on it. To treat it as an opportunity and to capitalize accordingly.

For that is where the rubber meets the road on our life’s story. We may not control serendipity, but we can take full ownership of its impact. We can use it to improve our fortunes and that of those around us.

That is where true success lies. That is where the serendipity tastes the sweetest.

Given or Gotten?

As we seek to improve our standing in life, we essentially have two options.

We can wait for things to be handed to us, or we can work at getting them ourselves.

Both methods can get results, at least in theory. But one rings true, and the other rings hollow.

It makes more sense to go after the life we want than it does to wait for it to be handed to us.

There’s some sweat equity in going for our goals, to be sure. But this method provides more control over our destiny.

Many people do follow this path, and see great results from it. But plenty of others shun it, for a couple reasons.

First off, the idea of getting what we want is all too often interpreted as denying someone else what’s theirs. This has led to a culture of abuse and male dominance. An ugly culture that has come into the limelight due to sexual assault and harassment scandals in the sports and entertainment world.

Getting what we want for ourselves should never be a zero-sum game. It should instead be an intensely personal process. A process that empowers us to take control of our own lives to improve our situation. A process that implores us to up our effort, knowledge and skill set in order to attain the goal we set for ourselves.

It’s about stoking the fire within. It’s about finding self-power, not exerting power over others to improve one’s standing.

Those who find success by scrapping for it generally recognize this key differentiation, and stay on the clean side of it. But many people see the entire process as dirty, and steer clear of it.

This leads to the second objection. Going after what we want is often viewed as a needless exercise. Why get down in the dirt for something, when you can just wait to be handed it instead?

This approach is far from delusional. After all, we see it in action each time we get a paycheck. We fulfill our work obligations with the expectation that the money we earned will be headed our way on payday.

The problem arises when we try and expand this thinking to other aspects of our lives. It makes us look like we lack inspiration. And it places control of our hopes and dreams in another’s hands.

Why on earth do we think this is a good idea?

It’s time we get real. It’s time we stop hitching our future successes to the benevolence of others. It’s time we recognize that while Santa Claus might give kids the gifts they want, he doesn’t go around handing adults the life they dream of.

It’s time we get gritty. It’s time we focus in on what we want and then roll up our sleeves and get after it. It’s time that we get comfortable with making short-term sacrifices to serve long-term benefits.

It’s time we get smart. It’s time we devote ourselves to learning new skills and honing existing ones. It’s time we recognize he dual power of patience and persistence, and swing that balance in our favor.

Most of all, it’s time we take control. It’s our life and our future. We must be in the driver’s seat for this journey.

For the best things in life are not given. They’re gotten.

Beating The Odds

Few phrases are as overdone as Beating the odds.

It seems as if this phrase comes out anytime someone overcomes a significant challenge. There’s seemingly always some mention of how the odds were stacked against that person, yet they overcame them anyway.

The parlance is used so frequently, in fact, that there’s never even a need to dust it off.

The implications of this statement are clear. Someone has done something unlikely and significant, and should be lauded for it.

Yet, the dramatic nature of the phrase Beating the odds belies one important fact.

The person was likely to overcome the challenge they faced. They were just more likely to succumb to it.

This might sound like a small detail, but hear me out.

We live in a world of polarization. It’s acceptable to accentuate differences in lifestyle choices, sports allegiances or politics. And words such as never and always are part of our everyday vocabulary.

We capitalize on extremes because it garners attention. And the debates we have with those with opposing viewpoints get the blood flowing and make us feel alive.

But extending this behavior to the narratives we tell — of ourselves or those we admire — is a fallacy.

You see, as long as our hearts are beating, we have a chance of doing something extraordinary, regardless how slim that chance might be.

Where there is a will, there is a way. So, every day provides us an opportunity to overcome an adverse situation or perform a notable feat.

It’s not always easy, but it’s certainly within the realm of possibility.

All too often, we forget this simple mathematical fact, and act as if the improbable feat we witnessed took the world off its axis.

And that’s just plain wrong.

Let us not forget why odds are out there in the first place. They’re designed so that others can handicap our future, and determine our destiny.

These people benefit by having these odds in place. But we’re no better off.

Why let them determine our fate? Our lives are our own, after all. What’s plausible should have no impact on what’s possible.

So, let’s change the conversation.

Let’s consider each day as a stepping stone as we work on achieving our hopes and dreams. Let’s focus on what’s in our realm of possibility and ignore any outside noise telling us how unlikely it might be.

Above all, let’s focus on our accomplishments. Both those behind us and those yet to come.

Odds are, that’s a better outlook to take.

The Control Illusion

I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul.

Truer words might never have been spoken. But is it all an illusion?

As a general rule, we are captivated by control. Ensconced in it. It’s why we wear our lucky jersey when we watch our favorite team play, why we head out to vote, why we lock our doors and park our vehicles in well-lit areas.

We are addicted to control because the unknown is disturbing. The possibility of disappointment or failure leaves us vulnerable, cold and unprotected. So we shield ourselves from danger by convincing ourselves we have a say.

We don’t.

Think about the first thing you did this morning. You opened your eyes to a brand new day, and you’ve likely felt in control of your actions ever since.

But what caused you to open your eyes? Was it the sun through the blinds? The beeping of an alarm clock. Some silent cue you can neither recall nor explain?

Truth is, you had no control over that primary action in your day. Something else — God, nature, circadian rhythm, who knows — something else was responsible.

And it goes far beyond that. We’re all riding on a spinning ball orbiting a blinding light, with no seat belt to protect us. As such, we have far less of a say in how factors of time, space, weather, physics or circumstance will alter our immediate destiny than we’d like to believe.

So we set up smoke screens. We jump into the Matrix and convince ourselves we’re at the helm, that our actions will lead to desired outcomes.

It’s comforting, reassuring — and preposterous.

Our one vote won’t swing the election. The jersey we wear when we watch our favorite team won’t help them win. And that safe, well-lit parking spot probably won’t protect your ride if the sky fills with hailstones.

Why must we spend all kinds of karmic energy trying to grasp control of these unknown variables, when it won’t do us a lick of good in the end?

There’s a better way. It requires us to accept the profound, and refocus our controlling tendencies in areas where we really can make a difference.

The kind of person we are. The decisions we make. The ways we act towards others. These are the factors we should be controlling; they can help us positively contribute to our society and improve our well-being.

Sure, shifting our focus in this direction means leaving the outcomes of many other events we care about to chance — and that’s scary. But we’ve never really had control of these independent variables anyway; we just blinded ourselves from the truth with the illusion that we did.

So let’s double down on controlling how we contribute to our family, community and society. For at the end of the day, the outcome of that pursuit is how we’ll be defined.

The ball’s in our court. It’s on us to pick it up.

The Branding of Us

I’ll never forget my first encounter with branding.

I was about 7 years old, plodding around the playground at recess in my Converse High Tops. But all I wanted was a pair of Nikes.

My shoes were comfortable. They were functional. And, in hindsight, they were hip!

(Plus, my mother probably saved a fortune on them at Marshall’s.)

But none of that mattered. My friends had Nikes. MJ sported Nikes. All I wanted were Nikes.

A few years later, I got my coveted pair of Nikes. And, aside from one pair of cross country running shoes, every pair of sneakers I’ve ever owned since then has either had a Swoosh or a Jumpman logo on it.

Branding is real.

***

I’ve harkened back to this playground scene a lot recently. It’s been getting more and more difficult for me to find Nike shoes that meet my fashion standards and fit my wide feet. And when I do, I end up paying a fortune for a product that frankly isn’t worth the extra money.

Yet, I keep coming back, as reliably as Pavlov’s dog.

Despite my knowing better, I’m loyal to Nike. It’s my look — and that makes it my only choice, for better or for worse. When the University of Miami switched apparel providers from Nike to Adidas in 2015, I quietly mourned the decision; I’ve since significantly cut back on the amount of t-shirts I’ve bought from my alma mater.

Nike is part of how I express myself. And — though it loathes me to admit this — Nike matters to me.

***

What keeps me coming back to the Swoosh? I could list any number of marketing psychology terms, but I’ll focus on one aspect — the narrative.

Stories are a powerful component of our lives, and branding is a key part of our personal stories — although not in the way corporate branding executives aim for. (Sorry Nike, I don’t think buying a pair of your cross-trainers will make me run like Usain Bolt.)

No, branding serves as a supporting actor in the feature production that is our lives. The styles we wear, the tech we buy and the food we eat at different points in the story — these are all impacted by branding. Either we’re loyal to certain brands or we’re consciously fighting the grip that a company name can have over our lives. In each case, brand influence is a factor in our personal brand.

***

And personal branding is significant. We are constantly sending a message — actively or passively, consciously or subconsciously. How that message is perceived can impact our destiny; this is why we try and take ownership of our own brand identity.

But where should we turn for inspiration when undertaking this task? I feel the best answer to that question is actually…companies like Nike.

You see, the impact of corporate brand influence on our lives is twofold. On one hand, it can embed itself in the story we tell. On another, it can provide us a reminder of which principles to master when crafting our personal brand.

Specifically, it can demonstrate how to build connections to our hopes and dreams. It can show us that how we act, how we dress, what we say and what we do can help us attain the life we desire — whether that be the job we dream of, the family we aspire to build or the circle of friends that we seek to maintain.

The foundation of the life we strive for might already be in existence. But until we take ownership of the narrative, our story is being written on autopilot.

***

It’s time to take control of the branding of us. Whether this means strengthening the connections we already have or breaking with them to build new ones, we must take the helm in writing the narrative of our lives.

We’re obligated to take on this task, because doing so can reap benefits for so many. A properly managed personal brand can help drive us forward, and positively impact those we come across. It can allow us to speak to our community in a way that truly resonates. It can help make the world a better place.

The branding of us is within our grasp. But it’s on us to make it happen.