Life Rolls On
What an amazing day, I feel so fortunate to have been a part of the event.
What an amazing day, I feel so fortunate to have been a part of the event.
Do you want to be happy or unhappy?
Happy? Really? You really want to be happy? Seriously? Good, let's move onto the next step.
Do you deserve to be happy? Are you sure? Are you sure there isn't a voice deep down that is telling you otherwise, maybe just sabotaging you just a little (or a lot)? Maybe you take a step or two forward and then back again? Maybe work is good, but family isn't, or vice versa? Did you know there is a voice in there? Yes, everyone has a voice, absolutely everyone.
How do you know if you love yourself enough to allow yourself to be happy? How do you know if you have the self-esteem, confidence, self-worth, etc. to allow yourself to be happy?
You learn to hear your thoughts. Your inner voice. Your beliefs. Some call it being conscious. Some call it being present.
Do you really hear them? When do you hear them? How do you hear them? Can you observe them objectively? Do you need to meditate? Do you have a blow up and realize you caused it? Do you do something you lose yourself in, a sport, a hobby and then see/hear? Did you have a near death experience and all of a sudden you can smell again, feel the breeze, hear background noise?
Once you've heard them... Do you understand that your thoughts aren't you? Do you know you can question them, invalid them, squash them, embolden them, enhance them, live by them, etc.? Do you also know that if you refuse to hear them "and" view them objectively there will be no end to you trying to prove them? You will operate on autopilot, in a state of unconsciousness, blindly following the orders your brain is delivering. They are just a set of beliefs ingrained due to experience, authority figures, etc. But, that is "it"! Just beliefs.
Condensed...
It is a bit circular, the key though, is to make the conscious decision of happy or unhappy because that will determine what thoughts work for you and keep you vigilant. It is a bit time consuming at first, as you initially get glimpses into your conscious/mind, but the peace that ensues as your ego goes on hiatus builds momentum so quickly that it takes over in a positive cycle (if you choose happy).
Thoughts of I need a degree will be replaced with so and so and thousands of others did it without a degree.
Thoughts of I'm too old will be replaced with I feel young, I have so much time.
Thoughts of I don't deserve it will be replaced with we all have value and I have so much to share with the world.
Thoughts of I always give up, I am such a quitter will be replaced with I'm not afraid to take something to a point where failure is a possibility.
And on and on...
We all have beliefs, some are empowering, some are limiting, some are outright disastrous, but we choose them. Yes, we choose them, and once you change the inside, the outside follows suit.
Over the coming weeks/months, as a way to help with hearing and revising the voice/beliefs, I'm going to share some common ones and then give you the ammunition to validate/invalid them.
I've noticed that I've entered a new category, the "I'm too old" category. I recently used the statement to make an excuse that I couldn't compete in a surfing competition (really, it was just to refresh all the previous excuses I made, so I could avoid some risk). After recognizing my hedging, I've noticed a couple of people using the same excuse freely, like me, almost as if we'll get a do-over at some point.
It is rarely a valid categorization, but it is one of the most effective excuses. That is, until you realize that you take comfort in it because it is more tangible than the other excuses you were making, like "I'm not talented enough, smart enough, I don't have enough money, and on and on". Inside, you knew they weren't true, but you repeated them like a mantra. It is this recognition that you now have a replacement excuse, the actual act of introducing new excuses because the other ones are no longer valid, that may cause some initial anxiety, but in fact, it is a blessing in disguise. Why? Because now you are fully aware that you were talented enough, you just didn't want to take the risk, you didn't need money to do it, and maybe now you actually aren't too old. For those that want to reframe their beliefs about age read below (for those that want to continue making excuses, stop reading here):
Examples of those doing interesting things at unexpected ages:
And this is a post about just one excuse, the last one you'll probably make, the "I'm too old" excuse. Wouldn't it be nice to avoid this one completely by not making all the excuses that precede it?
Don't even try. Don't try to figure out how you are going to do or get anything, just figure out what you want your life to look like and "do" what you do best. The key word being "do".
20 Life Lessons (from your dad) is available in local stores and on Amazon. We didn't go through a traditional publisher or distributor, instead we decided to bring it to the market ourselves. Please support independent bookstores, like Booktowne,
and unique gift shops, like Charlotte West, that took a chance and committed to carry copies of the book.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
When I used to get something in my head, I was like a train with the windows covered. To give you an example, while watching a movie with footage of the office of an advertising agency, I became entranced. Brick walls, high ceilings, Herman Miller chairs . . . so very cool. The vision of that office was all I could see for a number of years. During that period, I deferred a lot of things I enjoyed — family, friends, surfing, and so on — thinking that a singular focus would help me expedite the realization of that vision. A couple of days after we finally moved into our new office, after being briefly impressed with myself and my surroundings, I found myself wondering, “Is this it?” As I stood staring at our blue lights, red furniture, and copper reception desk (which were pretty sharp at the time), I promised myself that I would keep the windows uncovered on the way to the next destination.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
Let’s rewind to my freshman baseball team banquet. As each player walked up to the podium the coach talked about his playing style, his fielding, or his batting average, with one exception — me. The coach proceeded to vent his exasperation and share his curiosity about my persistently stoic state. He said, “This kid refuses to smile when I praise him and he doesn’t flinch when I scold him.” I may have been a robot on the surface, but I was bursting with emotion inside. I wanted to pump my fist in the air when I rounded the bases and kick the dirt when I missed a pop-up, but I didn’t. Walking up to that podium, I knew the coach was right. My emotion didn’t break through until much later in life, when, simply, I just let it.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
When I was a kid, I had a great job (well, a great job for a 16-year-old). I bused tables, tended raw bar, and was a bottle boy at a popular local nightclub. I got to surf all day, got good tips, and met lots of people. The owner was successful and a bit aloof, but he was nice to me. One night while I was tending raw bar (it was the best job at the time — you basically hung out and handed drunk people shrimp and oysters in exchange for payment and tips), the owner came up and asked for a shrimp, graciously said thank you, and in the process of dropping a large tip in my tip jar was tapped on the shoulder by a patron. Words followed, sights blurred, sounds escalated . . . and shortly after the owner assaulted the patron, I found that I was the sole witness. How was it possible that no one but me had seen a thing? The police questioned me. They would understand that I hadn’t seen anything. I was young, and the owner was in what I perceived to be a powerful position. When I told them I hadn’t seen anything, they did understand, and the night ended. My night didn’t. My turmoil extended until I called the family of the man who had been assaulted and told them that I would testify, contacted the authorities, and wrote a letter to the owner telling him I was testifying against him. It took three days. Next time, I won’t even blink.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
I just assumed my friends and family would always be there — you know, kind of like how the TV just sits in the corner and waits for you to flip the channel. Not so. People change, move, and pass. The connection to all the wonderful people in my life didn’t blossom until sometime after your mom and I met. Your mom, Grammy, Aunt Bette, and Aunt Sandee taught me much of what I know about family — not by telling me, but by showing me how passionate they were about each and every family member. To continually remind all of us just how lucky we were to have each other, your Grampy would document our get-togethers with pictures and cartoons, and your cousin Lindsey would grab funny quotes out of the air. Through continual observation of this rock-solid support and engagement, I came to understand the significance of enjoying and embracing all the people in my life each and every day.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
When I was 16 years old I got kicked out of Fantasy Island for wearing a shirt that said, “Keep Your Trash Off My Beach, or Stay the H*** Off.” I joined Surfrider and Alliance for a Living Ocean, and planned my mountain abode with periodic salt runs. I was going to save the world. I was pumped. But somewhere along the line, maybe when I was in my early 20s, life started, and I forgot about that commitment. I didn’t even manage to save the world from me. This didn’t happen because I was a bad person or because I didn’t care (it wasn’t like I was throwing napkins out my window while driving). It happened because I didn’t make a conscious effort for it not to happen. By not being part of the solution, I was part of the problem. Today, I try to do little things to make a difference, all while appreciating the breathtaking beauty that exists in the world.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
This is one of the lessons that provided me with a pleasurable learning experience. At a young age, I was taught to think a little differently, and you can thank your Nana for that. Your Nana is one of the greatest creatives the world has ever seen, but instead of putting her energy into music or poetry, she gave that creative juice to her children. All my life she showed me how to look at the world from a different perspective by actually doing it. Whether it was by setting me up to wait for a green doodaleedum in the marshes or by skipping out on the world to celebrate the first spring day, her perspective somehow protected my mind from the repetition and false security that so many in society often seek.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
For years I approached business from a particular viewpoint. What is the market size? What are the resources required to get to X in sales? What product will sell well? This approach was complemented by an understanding of a plethora of areas such as leadership, innovation, motivation, infrastructure, marketing, and so on. What I didn’t know at the time was that my approach was analogous to owning a Ferrari without gas. Then one day I had the good fortune of working alongside your aunt Jenny at Zinnia. In a business that was ready for rapid expansion and, in my mind, offered a great opportunity to leverage my aforementioned experience, she took a stand to slow it down. She showed your Poppy and me how the growth of the business would change everything she loved about it. Letting her heart drive her actions helped me to rephrase the question, “What can the market do for me?” to “What can I do for the market?”
Your Dad’s Lesson:
For a long time, I believed that I was nice, meant and did good, applied effort, and was reasonably intelligent; therefore, I thought I was adequately fulfilling my role in many situations. When personal relationships were unsatisfying, or goals unachieved, I usually didn’t think it had much to do with me. I just assumed that with steady and continued effort on my part these areas would eventually improve. But at a certain point, I realized that not only was I making excuses, but they were all starting to sound the same. Being open to the possibility that I had more influence on the outcome than I originally thought helped me hear the words of a modern icon: “If you have an opportunity to sweep, sweep like you’ve never swept before.” I realized I was holding back a significant portion of my energy for some moment in the future that warranted my efforts, when in reality it is our efforts today that make a future moment worthy.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
As I observed people making great strides in their lives and superstars being seemingly born into greatness, I began to wonder if the deli had forgotten to call my number. I created matrices of my talents, key elements in my upbringing, things I liked to do, and so on, hoping that I would stumble upon one definitive answer. Looking back, it is ironic that I was trying to find one thing that would make me tick, when unpredictability and variety are major factors that get me up in the morning. After a few years, I stopped trying to figure it out and I just let the energy pour out of me. If an idea came into my head, I would pursue it; if something felt right, I would do it. What I found is that it is the passion that matters most, not what you are applying it to.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
By nature, I grew into the habit of dreaming, and I often have had the good fortune to see many of those dreams come true. It is amazing to see the tangible reality of something that once was nothing more than just a thought. However, there were a few periods in my life when I didn’t dream. I felt lost and became directionless, and because of the discomfort I experienced during those times, I came to know that I had a purpose. Some people give up on dreams when they face disappointment and may label dreaming as useless, superficial, or unrealistic, but that doesn’t release you from your responsibility to dream and follow through. Almost everything you experience in this world was born from a dream — from equal rights and the Statue of Liberty to hang gliding and ice cream.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
Observing people doing things that defied the odds, simply because they believed in their hearts in what they were doing, impressed the power of belief upon me. However, what I didn’t realize was that we all choose and foster our own unique mixture of beliefs, both major and minor. Once I learned to hear my inner voice, I realized I was harboring beliefs that could be more empowering. To give you a simple example, I once believed that I needed eight hours of sleep to function properly, if I didn’t get those eight hours, my day was shot. I changed that belief to “Life is so exciting I can’t bear to keep my eyes closed when the sun is up” (your uncle’s mantra, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” is equally effective). That simple belief can serve as the catalyst for successive events throughout the day. And that is just one belief. Disabling beliefs continue to hold their validity for you only because you would otherwise have to admit to flaws in the subconscious thinking that has driven actions in your life. Let your beliefs prove themselves to you every once in a while and focus on cultivating beliefs that are suitable for how you want to live your life.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
I had always said people were good, because I knew that was the most politically correct view to hold. However, in reality I subconsciously questioned that viewpoint. And just in case I was right, I created a controlled landscape that protected me from people. Your Poppy could see what I was doing, and throughout my life he tried to teach me how to choose love over fear, not just by telling me, but by doing it. I watched for years as he trusted completely, embraced everyone unconditionally, and gave so much more than he received (my opinion at the time). He lived his life in what I thought was unpredictable territory, but in reality it was the area with all the color. His continual effort to epitomize love, combined with the many people, sometimes with tears in their eyes, who pulled me aside to tell me how truly good he was, gave me enough time and context to find my way. Take the leap of faith and live without fear, and in love. I know the path is occasionally bumpy, but I promise to be an example . . . in the likeness of your Poppy.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
I was the picture of confidence in my early years: shoulders straight, unwavering, focused. Excelled at sports, good grades, cute girlfriends. It wasn’t real. Intellectually, I knew that confident people got ahead, so I faked it. Underneath it all, I didn’t believe in myself and didn’t understand what it would take to turn that around. As I got older, I focused on the outward things that defined me to the world: accomplishments, possessions, and so on. Further, for fear of tarnishing that fragile outer shell, I played life safe. I kept thinking that just one more feather in my cap would get me over the top, but the boosts were only temporary. Eventually, after lots of trial and error, I found that the only way to build confidence is from within. Your confidence isn’t determined by your reputation, a goal you scored, what you have, or how you got it. It is determined by one thing: how you feel about yourself. And how you feel about yourself is determined by your thoughts, your inner voice. If you keep that inner voice kind, forgiving, and empowering you will be that way to yourself, your partner, and your children.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
Throughout my life I’ve had so much to be thankful for, but it didn’t sink in. Even though I was living with a wonderful woman (your mom) surrounded by family in a beautiful home that was less than a mile from the beach, I didn’t appreciate how very fortunate I was. Over time, this lack of appreciation led me to seek additional things, things that couldn’t fill my heart until I recognized how full my heart was already. Your mom would try to help me see the overwhelming bounty in my life, but I wasn’t quite ready yet — that is, until your birth. I was so thankful the day you were born that it just spilled over into every other area of my life. In what seemed like a moment, I stopped looking at what I didn’t have and automatically saw just how lucky I was in every area of my life. The fact that it was such a positive event that brought me to this realization was further evidence of just how much I had to be thankful for.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
This one is simple: I worked way too much. It might have been due to guilty feelings about not working enough or the belief that you have to work all the time to be successful. I don’t know. But I can say this: more than half the hours I worked were a waste. If I had just picked up and gone surfing or kayaking, or spent time with friends and family, the outcome would have been the same. Although it has become more difficult to distinguish work from play, partially because my work has evolved to suit my lifestyle and personality, I make sure I take time to do things purely for enjoyment. Taking that time, even when it feels like it is in short supply, allows me to get in the water, explore a new gadget, play in the barn, and, best of all, play with you and your mom.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
At a certain point in life you are going to step back and take stock. It might be after learning something about yourself, after an extended period of stasis, or after the breeze hits you a certain way. I don’t know what brought it about, but my certain point came while we were living in Red Bank. I started asking myself questions like: Why are we living in an apartment in Red Bank? How did I get out of shape? When was the last time I was in the water? What can I do with the company to inspire me? The resulting answers required some difficult decisions and changes, but they were the best decisions I’d made in years. Almost immediately, it seemed, we moved within a mile of the ocean to a house with a barn, I lost 20 pounds, and I changed the company’s mission. However that certain point comes about, taking stock is the best thing that can happen to you. When it happens, embrace the difficult questions, answer them objectively, and holistically think about what you really, really want. I can promise you that it will put you on a path that fills your soul.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
I would get ideas often, but I would allow opposing opinions to germinate and difficult circumstances to influence me just as often. For example, while in college I went to a respected economics professor with an experimental formula. After taking a look, he said, “The theory has a few holes.” I felt his response was sufficient and didn’t even consider testing it. Looking back, I can see that the formula was questionable, but I shouldn’t have given up so easily. At worst, I would have gathered intelligence for another concept. Although it is good to collaborate and get solid feedback, you are doing your ideas a disservice if you put them into the world to face scrutiny without a strong foundation of support. Big ideas and change-inducing undertakings need a solid platform of belief, desire, passion, faith, and confidence to overcome obstacles and thrive.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
For a long time, I put limitations on my creativity due to the perception that rampant ideas prevent follow-through. I would tell myself, “Stick with one thing and make it great.” However, as I continued to run a company I had built five years prior, I found myself more satisfied by fresh ideas and change than by a predictable margin. Was creativity being suppressed based on an observation that might not even be valid? I missed the stomachaches I used to get from the anticipation of possibility before entering my uncle’s woodshop. Further, I liked the challenge of solving problems and the unpredictability of doing something that hadn’t been done before. So I decided to let things flow, regardless of the implications, and I couldn’t be happier.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
In grade school, I got into lots of fights and caused quite a bit of disruption. I didn’t care what the rules were; I was just doing what I thought was right. I defended the girls on the playground, interrupted boring stretches of class with humor, and came up with a student exchange/barter system for teacher rewards. Then sometime later in life, I ended up looking at the rules more than the possibilities — until one day when I was sitting in the lineup of a spot where I had surfed frequently. One of the surfers in the lineup rudely told a new surfer to move down the beach. Worse yet, the aggressor probably did it because I had let a friend of mine do the same thing to him almost five years earlier. I wanted to say, “We all started somewhere. He has a right to be here,” but I didn’t. Either time. And it honestly still bothers me a little, but it helps remind me to speak my mind and heart in situations that warrant it.
Your Dad’s Lesson:
For many years I picked girls who couldn’t be treated well, meaning that the better I treated them, the worse they treated me. It wasn’t their fault — I was the same way. They would show me love, and I would treat them poorly. I would show them love, and they would treat me poorly. Like many trying to find a suitable companion, I thought that making a better list of the qualities I sought would improve the result, but it didn’t matter. I had yet to love myself. Sometime after I learned to love myself, your mother came into my life and confirmed that I could give a lot of love and get it back in return. Not to mention that she took my breath away.