Tag: sharing

Sharing and Sacrifice

Can I have the TV room for a bit?

The question was innocent enough. But it made my blood curdle.

After all, I had been entrenched. Posted up on the couch, watching television. And now, I was getting booted from my perch, just so that my sister could watch her dumb show?

No way, no how. I refused.

My sister stomped off, quickly returning with my parents in tow. They explained that I had to share the TV room, and that meant ceding it in this instance. It was the decent thing to do, and the only thing to do.

I grumbled and stomped off to my room. The day was ruined.

Our society is of two minds.

We believe in individualism. We applaud self-sufficiency, initiative, and action.

Yet, we also believe in collectivism. In coming together to bask in the glow of our individual exploits.

I suppose this paradox mirrors that of nature. Even the most ancient of humans balanced hunting and gathering in their daily tasks.

And our own national lineage – that of settlers from faraway lands confronting a rugged terrain – also required such a shift.

But this dichotomy has not aged well.

The modern world has tipped the scales toward the individual. These days, it’s easier to strike out on our own without encountering a grizzly bear or a gang of bandits. We can get what we need and fend off danger.

Still, our collective tendencies have stuck around. More for tradition’s sake than anything else.

There are still plenty of restaurants that offer family-style meals. There are still holidays centered on mingling with loved one. There are still pressures to align ourselves with groups – whether civic, religious, or social.

The dichotomy this creates can be dizzying. We’re forced to tiptoe between two extremes — between go get it and let’s share.

It’s not easy to walk this tightrope. And the penalties for a misstep can be severe.

Be the CEO of your own life.

I can’t recall where I first heard that advice. But I’ve taken it to heart.

When it comes to my day-to-day, I take a business-like approach. I manage budgets, plan meals, and set actionable goals. I’m intentional about how I spend my time and who I share company with.

I lean on individualism to execute on all this. I put a lot on my own shoulders just to get by. But as an introvert, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Still, my quest does hit choppy waters from time to time. This is most notable when my journey barges through society’s collectivist tripwires.

Perhaps I stay in during a holiday. Perhaps I don’t eat anything at a banquet-style feast. Perhaps I duck out of a get-together before a board game is unfurled on the table.

I catch an inordinate amount of grief for these actions. I’m accused of not being a team player. I’m accosted for hurting others’ feelings. Or I’m told that no one should be alone on an occasion like this – essentially, that my own desires to do just that are invalid.

These rebukes are to be expected.

Marketing guru Seth Godin has frequently defined culture as People like us do things like this. And my actions often fly in the face of that mantra. Of course I’m going to hear about it.

The remedy to this situation might seem straightforward. I could just suck it up. I could share more, participate more, prioritize the collective over the invididual.

But it’s never that simple, is it?

I often think back to the day when I was booted from the TV room. It still gnaws at me.

Whatever I missed when I ceded the couch wasn’t all that important. And my sister was right in asking me to share the family television.

But the was a subtle demand under that ask is what bugs me.

Namely, the demand for a sacrifice.

For me to share TV access that day, I’d have to sacrifice control of the remote. This reality was unambiguous.

And this latent demand was far from unique. In fact, it underlies many other sharing scenarios we encounter.

Preparing for a long weekend? Get ready to account for who you spent your time with.

Attending a banquet? Be prepared to sacrifice your dietary preferences.

Participating in a social function? Don’t expect control over the agenda.

Sharing and sacrifice are intertwined. We might only speak to one half of the equation, but the other half is omnipresent.

This arrangement might be well-intentioned. But it’s not doing any of us any favors.

And the evidence is piling up.

In the early days of the COVID pandemic, civic officials shared a familiar refrain.

We all need to sacrifice our routines for the common good.

The specifics of the sacrifice varied by the situation. Sometimes it referred to putting on a face mask in public or staying home entirely. Other times it meant cancelling gatherings or sequestering ourselves from loved ones.

This was all to help keep a novel virus at bay. And yet, the refrain landed like a pile of bricks.

Some people still wanted to gather and to share in tradition, virus risk be damned. Others were cowering in fear of infection, and pointing the finger at anyone who didn’t share their view.

Divides widened. Trust plummeted. And we’re still dealing with the fallout, all these years later.

Scholars will likely spend years determining why this civic communication went so wrong. But I think the answer lies in the first five words of their refrain: We all need to sacrifice.

Sacrifice, you see, is a personal act. When we give something up, we feel it viscerally.

No one else can even pretend to understand that feeling. That loss is ours alone to bear.

As such, the most effective sacrifices are intrinsically driven. We feel the pull of a higher calling. And we part with something we care about to meet that calling.

Sharing is a natural biproduct of this process. But the choice to sacrifice — that comes from us.

This process can’t be reverse engineered. Telling us to sacrifice just won’t get the same buy-in. Neither will hiding such demands behind the virtues of sharing.

I’m not quite sure we fully recognize this point. And that needs to change.

It’s time for us to explicitly link sharing and sacrifice. And it’s time to make these attributes opt-in, rather than obligatory.

These actions won’t fix everything. But they’ll cauterize the wounds of our current approach. And they’ll plant the seeds for a more sustainable culture of sharing.

These are results we can stand behind. Let’s make them reality.

The Value in Sharing Knowledge

What value does knowledge hold?

Some would say it holds infinite value. That the more knowledge one accrues, the better off they are.

They may be right. But only to a point.

You see, the true value in knowledge lies not in how much of it one can gain. No, it lies in how much of it one can share.

Sharing represents full utilization of knowledge. It represents taking what one has gained and using it to help others. To bridge gaps, build communities and make the world a better place.

This is where value is created. This is where legends are made.

If you don’t believe me, consider how few rewards are given simply for accruing knowledge.

It might get us into Harvard, give us the grand prize in Jeopardy or help us ace the exam.

But then what?

We won’t be remembered for how much we can remember. And we likely won’t be able to make a career out of what we retain in our heads.

We need to do more to leave our mark. We need to be actionable with what we’ve learned. To use our knowledge to solve real world problems.

This is what the world expects of us. And it’s what we must expect of ourselves.

Yes, collaboration a fundamental attribute of humanity. Our society is built upon the value of sharing knowledge. Of taking ideas, building upon them and maximizing their impact.

It’s how we’ve evolved from caves to computers. It’s how we’ve gone from walking through jungles amongst saber-toothed tigers to flying above the clouds in jumbo jets.

If the minds behind these innovations hadn’t shared them, we’d still be in the Stone Age. Or maybe even extinct.

In fact, if we hadn’t shared our accrued knowledge, our entire existence would be anonymous. History, after all, is solely the result of shared knowledge.

Fortunately, those before us have taken on the burden of sharing their ideas. And, in doing so, they’ve provided us with previously unimaginable luxuries.

We can now live longer than our ancestors did. And we can now live in greater comfort than previous generations could ever have imagined.

But we cannot drop the ball.

In an era where endless information is available in our pockets, we cannot afford to act as if our brains are intake valves.

We must remember the importance of taking it in to share it out.

We must share what we know.

We must advance the conversation.

We must leave the world a better place than we found it.

This is our purpose. And our responsibility.

So, let’s commit to it. Together.

Sharing the Burden

It’s not you. It’s me.

We’ve heard this cliché line again and again. And we know it means bad news.

Regardless whether these words come during a breakup or the breakdown of a business partnership, they effectively mean, “It’s over.”

Or, more accurately, “It’s over ‘cause I said it’s over. You had no hand in the decision.”

What a load of bull.

Of course, the other party had a hand in the decision, whether they know it or not. And pretending to fall on one’s sword over who’s to blame only serves to paint that other party as the villain.

It’s a twisted bit of guilt-tripping that paints a gray world as black and white.

Here’s the truth: If it takes two to make a thing go right, it takes two to make a thing go wrong as well. Partnerships are a shared burden. And when things break down beyond repair, both parties are culpable for letting go of that burden.

Now, this is not to say that all blame gets split 50-50. There are times in any partnership where one half of the equation might not act in good faith. Spouses might cheat, business partners might act fraudulently and friends might make selfish choices. In these instances, the blame for these actions fall on the offending parties alone.

Forgiveness could understandably be fleeting in times like these, as the moral ground has clearly been tilted. But if these feelings of tension and anger lead to the end of a partnership, the blame goes both ways.

For the fact remains that both parties once agreed to enter into that partnership in good faith. The dissolution of that partnership — justified or not — is the very definition of bad faith.

In the wake of this decision, the hoodwinked party should not be considered a victim. Instead, they’re guilty of dealing themselves a bad hand — even if 20-20 Hindsight is the only way they could know it. And they will ultimately have to pay the price for the decision they made — a price that will manifest itself in the ashes and scars of a once-promising agreement that goes down in flames.

So, don’t be fooled: There are no winners when a partnership breaks down. The responsibility weighs heavy, and both parties are eternally beholden to sharing the burden. Punting or posturing will only get them crushed in the end.

Put “It’s not you. It’s me” out of your mind. The only word that matters is us.

Respecting Our Rivals

Competition is a hallmark of our society. We view our world in terms of winners and losers, haves and have-nots. The moment of truth is upon us in everything we do — for us to achieve our objective, someone else is likely going to fail at attaining it.

However, not all competitions are viewed as equal. Rivalries stand apart on the playing field, in the political arena and in our neighborhood.

Whether due to proximity or competitive spirit, rivalries are notably intense — so much so that foiling a rival’s objective is seemingly more important than obtaining what both sides so desperately seek. As such, angry words are often exchanged and lines are drawn in the sand. No wonder unaffiliated commentators often describe the conflict as “good, old fashioned hate.”

Yes, rivalries are quite the spectacle. We’re drawn to them because they get us hot under the collar. Some would even say they’re a necessary emotional outlet.

But all too often, they go too far.

Recently, the emotional tensions of rivalries have been at least partially responsible for the savage beating of a San Francisco Giants fan in the Dodger Stadium parking lot and the contentious post-election rallies both for and against President-Elect Donald Trump. Going back even further, the Hatfield-McCoy feud wiped out a substantial portion of each family — mostly for trivial reasons.

These tragic incidents have a common theme — unchecked emotion. Opposing sides have viewed their rival as their enemy, and then used that identification to justify actions that crossed the line.

Sadly, these examples are far from the only ones of a rivalry going too far. By glorifying the contentious nature of rivals going at it, our society enables us to go to the point of no return, time and again.

It’s like setting a fire and then dumping a full canister of gasoline on it; the flames are sure to burn out of control.

It needs to stop now.

And it can. We just need to change our perspective.

I understand this well. As a University of Miami alum, I have no warm or fuzzy feelings for Florida State University. Both schools have had a long and contentious football rivalry, but the contempt goes deeper than that. A difference in perceived academic standards and student demographics has helped turn even general discussions about Miami and Florida State into situations where participants must choose one or the other.

Perhaps the most poignant example of this was a phrase I learned as a freshman at Miami: “Friends don’t let friends go to Florida State.”

The salty relationship between the two schools permeated my soul. Long before I put a kibosh on the term, I actively stated that I hated Florida State. I talked a lot of smack and belittled people I didn’t even know just because they wore garnet and gold.

However, things changed slightly by the end of my college days. On Labor Day weekend of my senior year of school, I drove up to Tallahassee to watch Miami and Florida State face off in football. Parking was scarce, and I ended up finding a space in a bank parking lot.

As I set up my tailgating gear, three people who had parked nearby started chatting me up. They were Florida State fans from Fort Lauderdale, and we quickly got to talking about our common home region. Soon enough we were drinking beer together, despite rooting for rival teams.

This situation taught me a lot. I learned that I can have a lot in common with people who make different choices than I do, and that it’s possible to respect my rivals.

I can honestly say that I take a different perspective involving rivalries now. When Miami takes on Florida State each year, you can bet I want nothing more than to see my Hurricanes come away with the W. But I also think about what a blessing it is to see my team share the field with an old rival, with both teams giving it everything they have. I think about how fortunate both Miami and Florida State fans are to inextricably be a part of so many classic games and legendary moments. And I think about how, win or lose, life goes on for both fan bases.

At the end of the day, I’m honored to have the chance to circle the Florida State game date on my calendar every year.

As a client of mine — who’s a Florida State alum — once told me, the Florida State-Miami rivalry is a respectful rivalry. Although there are always going to be quite a few bad eggs out there in the stands, I truly believe that statement to be true.

I think it’s important that we take this perspective with all of our rivalries. Our country is far too divisive right now, and it’s sending us spiraling backwards. Fanning the flames with unbridled contempt does us no good.

We cannot move forward as a unified society if we can’t stand to communicate with those whose views differ from ours. While we might not all have the same perspective, we should at least share common decency to view each other as people, not targets.

So, let’s work on respecting our rivals. For at the end of the day, we all are sharing this planet.

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!

Owning It

The thought of owning something doesn’t often cross our minds.

Sure, when we get the keys to a house or buy a new car, it’s at the forefront of our consciousness. But rarely anytime else.

Yet, ownership was front and center in my mind the other day, as I assessed my CD collection. Nearly two decades old, my pile of CDs has become completely obsolete, as all the music has been added to my laptop and backed up to my iPod, external hard drive and the cloud. My SUV has a CD port, but I’ve yet to use it — as I’ve been able to play music on the road through my smartphone, using voice commands.

Technology has made the process of playing music seamless; no more of those bulky music players at home, no more CDs roasting in holders on car visor flaps in the Texas heat. Yet, my collection remains intact.

It remains because I own it.

Yes, the only thing keeping those unsightly discs out of a dumpster is the fact that I paid for the right to own the music contained within them. (Although, in keeping with my new mantra of letting go, it might be worthwhile for me to get rid of those CDs after all.)

***

Ownership matters to me. Not because of the power it provides, but instead because of the sense of responsibility it instills in me. Maintaining something I’ve paid for requires an investment of consistency and care, an investment that builds character.

Sadly, it’s an investment fewer and fewer of my peers are willing to undertake.

Sharing is more in vogue than ever before. Ridesharing, streaming, leasing — these are staples of the Millennial generation. The movement towards a shared economy has been lauded with terms like efficiency and sustainability, but I think the revolt against ownership is actually a cop-out — a wide scale attempt to avoid the burdens of leadership.

You see, the more people leave their music to Spotify, their movies to Netflix, their transportation to Uber and their living arrangements to their landlord, the less the onus falls on them when things go wrong. There’s always someone else to blame if the server goes down or the AC goes out.

This new wave of pass-the-buck convenience is both lazy and counterproductive. And if it remains unchecked, our leadership void will continue to deepen.

***

If we’re to grow as adults, as community leaders, as spouses or as parents, we must be willing to take responsibility. We must be able to take initiative, to solve problems as they arise and to shoulder the blame when it’s warranted.

We must take ownership. And while the individual elements of the sharing economy are largely innocuous — heck, I lease an apartment and subscribe to Netflix — they shouldn’t be a replacement for our obligation to practice this skill.

Actually owning something is the best way to demonstrate responsibility and accountability. There is simply no substitute.

So buy that car, shop for that dream house, download that song or plant that garden. But no matter what you choose, make sure you’re owning it.