Tag: drive

The Competitor Within

Is competition a zero-sum game?

I say no.

Sure, there’s plenty of rhetoric out there about vanquishing our rivals. On how There Can Be Only One or If You Ain’t First, You’re Last.

We’ve taken that to heart more than ever these days. From the ballfields to Capitol Hill, from the job market to social media feeds, partisanship is as vicious as ever.

Competition has brought out the worst in us. It’s poured lighter fluid on the vitriol of groupthink. It’s caused us to dehumanize anyone who’s not on our team. It’s eviscerated any empathy we might otherwise have for those who lie in the path of our selfish desires.

In the relentless quest to win, it appears we have all lost.

Yet, it doesn’t have to be this way.

We can still compete without causing each other carnage. Without drawing lines in the sand and causing further chasms in our society.

We just need to shift our focus.

I’m a highly competitive person.

I grew up playing baseball and watching Luke Skywalker lock light sabers with Darth Vader. The win at all costs mantra was strong within me.

Then, things changed.

I was 13 when the Twin Towers came down, and the skies above New York and Washington filled with fire and smoke. It was a horrifying, unfathomable event. Amidst my grief, there was confusion. How could the free world I knew have suffered such a brutal loss, out of the clear blue sky?

Of course, I wanted to punish those who took thousands of innocent lives. I supported the U.S. military’s operations in Afghanistan, and still do today. Petty as it was, I smiled when Seal Team 6 took out Bin Laden a decade later.

But my view of competition had changed. Going after the terrorists didn’t constitute winning. We had already lost something we could never get back.

As I moved into high school, I was lost. Disillusioned with the Zero-Sum game of competition and the horrors I’d seen come from it, I held myself back. I did my best to blend in at the expense of standing out.

By the time I was 16, my mother was fed up with my act. You’re lazy, she told me.

Those two words lit a fire under me.

The competitiveness that was long-dormant in my soul roared back to life. And I sprung into action.

I improved my grades enough to get multiple acceptance letters from colleges across the South. But upon choosing which school to attend, I didn’t let up.

I continued to strive for greatness through college, and the two careers that followed. Good enough wasn’t sufficient for me. I could always do better.

In fact, I was obligated to do better.

You see, I came to realize that by bringing out the best in myself, I could provide more to those around me. That I could help make the world a better place.

I came to realize the best kind of competition isn’t a Zero-Sum game.

When we shift our competitive focus inward, we change the game.

Think about it.

By demanding the best of ourselves, we play the role of both coach and critic.

We achieve what we might not have thought was possible before. We push our boundaries. We grow. We iterate.

Better yet, by turning the fires of competition inward, we can connect with others. We can respect our rivals, embrace our differences and focus on helping each other through a common drive for better.

Everyone wins in this scenario. In fact, the only casualty of self-competition is complacency.

So, let’s stop the blood feuds, the name calling, the nastiness. Let’s shift our competitive focus to a more productive place.

Let’s embrace the competitor within.

Forward Motion

Take a hit and keep moving forward.

If you’ve come across challenges in your life, there’s a good chance you’ve heard this advice.

I’m not sure where the phrase comes from. But it likely found its origin in the world of sports.

You see, in football, hockey, lacrosse and a myriad of other sports, you’ll run into some physical contact on the way to your goal. You could get tackled, hit, upended or crunched into the boards by an opponent.

All of these outcomes can abruptly put a halt to your progress. But this stoppage need not be permanent.

If you can shake off the hit, get up and keep on going, there’s a good chance you’ll reach your goal – bruises and all.

All of this provides a good allegory for life as a whole.

If you can handle the adversity you face, unbroken and undeterred, you can reach that which seek.

So, it’s important not to give up when life knocks you on your hind side. It’s better to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep moving forward.

Of course, this is much easier said than done.

After all, getting knocked down is humiliating. Demoralizing even.

And no matter how many times we listen to that Chumbawamba song, out first instinct is likely not to get right up again.

But yet, we do.

What drives us ahead? What propels our forward motion, even at times when every fiber of our being wants to grind to a halt?

The answer varies.

Some of us are driven by persistence. By locking in on the end goal in moments of struggle and shaking off the setbacks, those of us in this boat take the long view.

Some of us are driven by retribution. By turning a no into a yes, proving the doubters wrong and showing it can be done, those of us in this boat take an adversarial tone.

And some of us are driven by necessity. By heeding the fear of being left high and dry – by recognizing that folding to all instances of adversity gives them no viable path forward – those of us in this boat rely on survival.

These are three very different approaches. But all provide the same result.

We are inspired to ride on. We are encouraged to propel ourselves toward something greater. We are driven to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and move forward.

And in the process, we learn, grow and experience in ways we never would if there were never those bumps in the road.

Yes, while the destination remains the same, the journey becomes ever more valuable.

So, even if we fall down seven times, we owe it to ourselves to get up eight.

Forward motion is worth the effort.

Lessons from Intensity

What do you think of when you see the word intensity?

I think of aggression, stress and other unsavory traits.

I think of a crowd of commuters on a New York City subway platform. All in a hurry but with nowhere to go.

Yes, I’ve long seen intensity as a problem. A self-inflicted wound that damages our health and sabotages our relationships with others.

In my view, a laid-back attitude is ideal. It represents nature in balance.

There’s only one problem. I don’t practice what I preach.

It turns out that I am an incredibly intense person. My motor is always running at full speed.

My intensity is the fuel that drives many of my defining characteristics. It’s led me to be a control enthusiast and a chronic planner. It’s inspired me to stay active and engaged at all times. And it’s also made me incredibly self-critical.

These results are a mixed bag. Some have helped me do great things and connect with those around me. Others have been detrimental or offputting.

In the past, I’ve focused on the problems my intensity has caused. And I sought to remedy them with wholesale changes.

I tried to adapt a more laid-back lifestyle. I aspired to live more in the moment. And I devoted time to relaxing and leaving the worries of the real world behind — even if only for a little while.

It didn’t work.

It turns out I can’t change the way I’m wired. My intensity, much like my introversion, is encoded in my DNA.

I’ve had to learn to get comfortable with this fact. And to recognize that intensity doesn’t necessarily equate to pushiness or rudeness.

Yes, I’ve discovered that even the most intense people can still find a productive balance. It comes from channeling that intensity inward and exuding empathy outward.

I now strive to achieve that balance. And the results thus far have been transformative.

I push myself harder than ever. And I demand a level of perfection that I know I’ll never reach.

Yet at the same time, I aspire to treat others with care and kindness. To appreciate them for who they are, and how they are.

This might all seem a bit strange and disjointed. But I consider these opposing approaches to be connected.

The way I see it, my purpose is to make a positive difference in the lives of those around me. And by channeling my intensity inward — by demanding ever more of myself — I can live into that purpose.

It is this narrative that has provided me peace of mind, at long last, when reflecting my intensity. All while providing me something to strive for.

I believe this is a powerful lesson to carry forward. Because regardless of whether we love intensity or consider it abhorrent, we must recognize that context is everything.

We shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. There are plenty of applications of each trait we possess that are healthy and productive. And plenty of others that are dangerous or problematic.

The power is in our hands.

Our traits are our superpowers. Use them widely.