Tag: goals

Deferred, Not Denied

The plan was on paper.

It had objectives, timelines, and even a formal name.

Relaunch 2020.

I was determined to fire on all cylinders as the new decade rolled in. It was all mapped out.

I would leverage my newly minted master’s degree into a marketing role at a major company. I would take my volunteer leadership efforts to new heights. I would accelerate healthy living habits. And I would strengthen my relationships with friends and family.

My first decade of adulthood had been rocky at times. There were certainly some accomplishments worth celebrating. But there was also a career shift, two moves to new cities, and a continual struggle to earn a respectable living wage.

I’d risen to meet the challenges I’d faced, over and over. But I had started to feel myself stagnating, and I worried about putting an artificial lid on my potential.

This is what spurred me to enroll in business school while working full-time. It’s what convinced me to work out more and improve my diet. It’s what led me to take on a leadership role with my local alumni chapter.

Relaunch 2020 would be the next phase of all this groundwork. It would lead to tangible results that would improve my life. And in doing so, it would cut down on my anxiety.

As 2020 approached, I could feel the momentum building. I was filled with excitement.

I was on the edge of realizing my dreams. And then they were ripped away from me.

It’s a harrowing feeling when the world you thought you knew transforms into something that’s anything but familiar.

I’ve experienced this dystopia several times in my life. I felt it in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks. I lived it in the white-knuckle years of the Great Recession.

But nothing quite knocked me to my knees like the onset of a microscopic virus.

The COVID Pandemic disrupted all our lives in previously unheard-of ways. But the aspects of those disruptions — well, they seemed like a bowling ball taking dead aim at all my hopes and dreams.

The job market dried up as both office spaces and the economy temporarily shuttered. In-person events all but disappeared. And many health and wellness amenities went dark — ironically, in the name of protecting public health.

Suddenly, my hopes of getting a new job were scuttled. I needed to jump through hoops to work out. And, for a time, I was prohibited from even seeing my friends and family.

At first, I was fine giving all this up. The virus was frightening, and sacrifices were needed to keep it at bay.

So, I paused the job search. I pivoted from lifting weights at the gym to running outside. And I replaced in-person visits with videocalls.

But as the pandemic dragged on indeterminately, I grew more and more agitated. I had formed a plan to get out of the situation I was in, only to see the universe bar me from following through.

My dreams were denied. At least that’s what I thought.

It’s not how many times you get knocked down. It’s how many times you get back up.

This boxing analogy has become tired, even cliché.

We’ve made too much of our own resilience, even considering it a feature of our life’s journey. In doing so, we make it seem if the mere presence of a setback will send us roaring into high gear.

It’s rarely that simple.

As I sought to move past the power punch the Pandemic threw at me, it seemed opportunities for resilience were lacking. With the business world in the throes of a recession and social life on hold, I didn’t even have a stage for my comeback. I would need to be patient and see how it all would play out.

But as I bided my time, the calculus changed yet again.

First, my employer was acquired by a different company. Second, in-person road races returned — giving me a forum to benchmark my running abilities.

I ultimately found unexpected opportunities from both these developments. I was able to move to a new role on the marketing team of the parent company of my employer. And through racing, I was able to find running groups and a broader running community.

Now, I’m thriving in my career. I’m using the full breadth of my marketing skillset while embracing the support my efforts yield. And I’ve gone from a recreational runner to an advanced one, scoring top finishes in shorter races and training for major marathons.

None of this was in the cards for Relaunch 2020. I was supposed to switch employers, not stay on board. There was no mention of running one mile, let alone 26.2.

And yet, I am still living the ethos of that plan. I’m realizing my full potential, while taking aim at the opportunities that still lie ahead. And it is glorious.

My dreams were deferred, but they have not been denied.

Tick, tick, tick.

That once was the soundtrack of my mind.

No longer.

Sure, I still feel a sense of urgency. I’m not getting any younger, and there’s now a generation directly below me going after the same things I am.

But I’ve come to learn that my destiny might not arrive right on schedule. And the costs of such a delay might not be as steep as I once feared.

To be clear, I still don’t expect such delayed gratification to befall me. And I’m keenly aware that I must still have a plan to bridge the gap if it does.

But I’m far better equipped to roll with the punches now. For I have seen light at the end of the tunnel and basked in its glow. And I recognize that there are many routes to a desirable destination.

So, to all agitated at the status quo, to all those frustrated by the prospect of dreams deferred, don’t despair.

Hope still lucks on the horizon if you’re willing to look for it.

Deferred is not denied.

The Little Things

January is an interesting time.

The holidays have come and gone, the calendar has reset, and people are diving into those resolutions.

But while Out With The Old, In With The New is all the rage on these short, chilly winter days, it misses the point.

Yes, much of life is about improvement — improving ourselves and the world at large.

But it’s also about the little things. The moments and sensations that remind us what it is to be alive.

The reflection of sunlight off a passing car on a blue, sunny day. The feeling of hitting the water during the perfect cannonball. The warm fuzzies we get when we see a loved one smile.

These all should matter.

For while these things don’t help us achieve, they allow us to feel. And feeling is what both defines and protects the unique human brand of accomplishment.

Protecting our ability to achieve is vital, as machines are taking over tasks that were once manned by people. With the advent of Machine Learning, computer programs are now able to take on more complicated roles than ever before. While these developments certainly make things more efficient, they also eliminate job opportunities and make prosperity more difficult to come by for many people.

It might sound bleak, but have no fear. The dawn of Skynet is not imminent.

Why? Because machines can’t see the little things.

They can’t feel. They can’t build connections off of empathy. They can’t mend fences or solve the complex issues that the world faces.

They don’t get goosebumps on their forearm or chills up and down their spine. They can’t comprehend delight or despair.

They’re here to do a job, and that’s it.

We’re here for more than that. Not just to live, but also to know how it feels to be alive.

That’s what this shared ride called life is about, what it should be about.

So, take a moment to breathe in that crisp winter air, to gaze at that stunning sunset, to spend more time around the people who make your heart flutter.

The little things are a big deal.

The Year of Disconnect

Another journey around the sun is nearly complete.

While I have made my feelings known regarding our collective reaction to the innocuous changing of a calendar, the fact remains that many of us are quite reflective at this time of year.

With that in mind, I’ve taken a look back at what’s happened in the past 12 months, and what we can gather from it. While life is generally a mix of routine and random events that makes such an activity trivial, I quickly came to realize that this year has had a common, yet disturbing theme.

2016 has been the Year of Disconnect.

The sad irony of this statement cuts deep. We now live in a world where African tribal elders can access the Internet from the palm of their hand. It’s a world built for sharing and instantaneous collaboration. But at a time when technology has allowed us to connect more effectively than ever before, all we seem to want to do is disengage.

Whether we’re talking about the divisive U.S. election, the Brexit vote, deteriorating race relations in America or the seemingly endless parade of celebrity deaths, so much of 2016 seems to have been about the fracture of something once communal. It seems to have been about the loss of trust, decency and respect. About doubt and uncomfortable questions.

This is not the world I want. I’ve devoted my life to building communication, trust and connection because I believe those principles can make the world a better place. Humans are capable of both amazing and horrifying feats. The difference between the two so often lies in how well we can build connections with each other based on trust.

The steps we’ve taken away from connection in recent months have been discouraging, but all is not lost. If we can take heed of the direction we’re heading and make the right adjustments, we can steer ourselves back on course.

For me, this means removing hate from my heart, and from my vocabulary. It means preaching unity, even with those I vehemently disagree with. It means building connections upon empathy, and urging others to do the same.

For others, the tactics to rebuild what’s broken might be different. After all, we are all unique, and each of us has our own tools to build with. But if we can all work toward reinvigorating a culture of connection, we will get there.

Great things are ahead of us. But we must eschew the patterns we’ve championed in the Year of Disconnect in order to achieve them. Let us begin.

A Year of Wow

This week marks the one-year anniversary of Words of the West. The decision to launch this website was both the realization of a dream and a call for responsibility, and it was a decision I sat on for months until I felt the time was right.

It’s been liberating to share my stories, my reflections and my perspective with the world at large. And the significant task of adding fresh pieces of wisdom every week has kept me both sharp and grounded. But these sensations are just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve learned so much through this experience, in so many unexpected places. And as Words of the West is all about sharing wisdom, I felt compelled to share what I’ve learned so far here.

  • Time Is The Boss: I’m not going to lie — sticking to a weekly schedule is tough. Writing inspiration doesn’t come with a clock; on some weeks, conjuring up fresh ideas was a challenge. While I’m fortunate to have a robust swipe file of ideas, there were definitely some moments where I felt as if I was going through the motions. But I knew that Words of the West deserved my best every week, and that challenge helped keep my writing to a high standard, even on days where natural inspiration was lacking.
  • Consistency Breeds Quality: Looking at some early Words of the West articles and some recent ones, I noticed one major difference — length. The early articles were significantly shorter than recent ones. (In fact, if this was an early Words of the West article, it’d be about over by now. Additionally, many those early articles more poetic in nature — the words had a nice rhythm, but readers had to connect the dots. Over time, the articles became both clearer and more comprehensive.
  • Emotion Is Real: I’ve been writing for most of my life, in one format or another. But I’d never before experienced anything quite like what I felt when I posted Darkness in the Light. As I prepared to publish the article — a firsthand account of the events of September 11th, 2001 — my hands were shaking and my heart was racing. Yes, the process of putting words onto the Internet can be a deeply emotional experience.
  • Think On Your Toes: On a hot summer night, I spent hours writing an article extolling the virtues of Dallas — prose meant to quash the national perception of Big D as a “City of Hate.” But as I was putting pen to paper, 20 miles away, a sniper was taking aim at Dallas Police officers patrolling a Black Lives Matter protest. By the time the sun came up the next morning, five of those officers were no longer with us. Not surprisingly, the article I’d drafted up never saw the light of day — replaced instead with a personal reflection of the event that shook our region to its core. Everything doesn’t always go to plan; it’s important to be prepared for anything — even something terrible.
  • It’s About You: The stories, thoughts and reflections shared on Words of the West have originated from my memories and perspectives. But the process of putting them on this website has changed their purpose; the goal has become to share, not to tell. I realized this early on, and I’ve tried to ensure all articles have a valid takeaway for you, the reader. This has made the writing process a bit more complex, but I do hope it’s been worthwhile for y’all.
  • Tech Is Tough: Writing weekly articles for a website is one thing. Maintaining the site is quite another. Over the course of the year, I’ve made some technical changes, tweaked the website theme, switched to self-hosting and worked around several issues with broken code. While I’m an Internet marketer by trade, rolling up my sleeves and dealing with these technical issues wasn’t easy, and sometimes took several hours at a time. However, these trips down the rabbit hole have been useful; I now understand how to navigate some deeply technical and syntactic components of websites — a skill that will prove useful in the long run.

Looking forward, I’m excited to tackle some new challenges I aim to improve at distributing Words of the West, so that more readers have access to the wisdom contained in these articles. I hope to further customize the website design and get rid of the little quirks that keep me up at night. And, of course, I’m ready to tackle the ongoing challenge of adding high quality writing for y’all to read, week in and week out.

Thanks for reading, and stay tuned. The best is yet to come!

What You Put In

You’ve heard it before, and you’ll hear it again.

You get out what you put in.

It’s some simple wisdom that we might apply to our careers, or to motivate ourselves at the gym. But it’s really about so much more than climbing the ladder, or getting the perfect six pack.

It’s about putting a concerted, dedicated effort into everything you do, in order to see results.

This point too often gets lost among us. We all too often believe that “putting in” is something strictly associated with an unpleasant, but necessary experience. For some inexplicable reason, we expect the things that bring us joy to just happen to us, without us “putting in” to make them all that they should be.

We know better. Aside from the sun rising and setting each day, very little in this world just happens. To varying degrees, we have to make things happen.

With this in mind, it’s important to dedicate ourselves to everything we do. Everything we strive for — from being a better parent to making smarter financial decisions — comes down to commitment. Heck, how we spend our free time comes down to commitment, even if we only plan on watching golf on TV.

Why is this dedication so important? It forces us to stay engaged and goal-oriented, even at the times when the goal we’re aiming for is total relaxation. This process keeps us healthier, sharper and more in control of our actions; it saves our mind from the paralysis of indifference.

Commitment forces us to shun the sheep in favor of the lions.

We are all lions. We are all strong, proud and capable of calling the shots in our lives. The key is to step up and take charge of what matters to us.

So the next time you’re zoned in at your cubicle, or preparing for that next set of reps, bottle that feeling of devotion. Then put it into everything else you do. You’ll be surprised how much you’ll get out of it.