Coinciding with the release of his new disc, If On A Winter's Night, I've posted this conversation with Sting. Over my life I have connected with Sting on multiple levels. This interview is a wonderful glimpse.
Hope you enjoy.
So Many Masks, So Little Time
I've written and taught about wearing masks before, but this post (The Joy of Quitting) from Seth got me thinking. What if we burned our masks (the type that suck away our authenticity) in some great fire?
Politicians tend to be prone to mask wearing. Ironic as that may be, since they really are supposed to be servants of the citizenry. This is soberly played out in the video clip link of President Nixon in Seth's post. The pre-speech interaction and honesty is worth the view.
When you wear masks to "project" or to deceive, you are taking a poison pill. A pill that takes life very slowly…over time. Most would agree that it's not worth the cost.
Have you come to that conclusion?
Here are a some stakeholders who stand to benefit when the masks are discarded:
- Your family. Believe me, they are longing for you to show up.
- Your career. Are you really doing what is consistent with your wiring?
- Your next entrepreneur venture. The potential benefactors of your ideas are worn out from empty ideas by mask-wearers.
- Your customers. Too much coming at them-everyday-for you to be anything less than authentic.
- Your organization. They may see potential in you that you're afraid to face.
The Calling-Red Pill Versus Blue Pill
Came across this post (via Dan Schawbel on Twitter) from Yahoo Hot Jobs and felt inspired to include the video clip above. It's from the Matrix. The classic scene between Morbius and Neo, where a pill of blue and a pill of red are offered to Neo. Essentially, stay dead with the blue or wake up with the red.
My intention here is to alert you to #5 on the list from Yahoo. I totally disagree with the writer's assertion that not everyone is called to something. Granted, some may not know, some might have forgotten or some may be trying to kill it. But everyone has a calling.
Sadly, we live in a culture that stands in opposition to your calling.
God weaved the vision in you and I. The crux is what we allow "the Matrix" to take away or kill. Every story is hinged on this conflict.
Updates and Such
Thought I would inform you all of my wanderings:
- Been working on a new model (for me anyway) to venture into. Totally unrelated to Epic Living, except it has the "help" element. Been a struggle and has taken longer than I expected. I undertook this new venture to help stop the financial bleeding that Epic Living has been experiencing since the beginning of 2009. Yes, I am not immune to the perfect storms of the American economy.
- Been grieving more deeply about my dad and his absence. This one is ongoing. Can't deny the void, and I don't quite see what will grow from that right now.
- Trying to re-learn some of my family leadership roles.
- Learning the heart of being-leadership versus doing-leadership. A contrarian art if there ever was one.
- Learning every day not to take anything for granted. Seems that God really wants me to understand this. My dealings with living and dying have awakened this sleeping giant. I'm waking up every day looking for the gifts given from above, and then act upon them, even when they break my heart, don't make sense or cause me to be afraid.
- Learning more about the honesty of wine-really.
More to come…
A Gift
One of the things I've noticed lately is how often we don't recognize the gifts given that are right in front of our faces.
Yesterday I'm walking in my garden and looking at our set of roses (the Knock Out variety) and I was struck by the design, color, and the strength of the plant.
I just stopped…
The main point of this post is to remind you that gifts are given daily. You have the choice as to what you will do with them.
Looking In The Mirror
The following spoke volumes to me this morning:
I asked God for strength, that I might achieve;
I was made weak, that I
might learn to humbly obey.
I asked for health, that I might do greater
things;
I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.
I
asked for riches, that I might be happy;
I was given poverty, that I might
be wise.
I asked for power, that I might have the praise of
men;
I was given weakness, that I might feel the need
of God.
I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life;
I was given
life, that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for,
But everything I had hoped for.
I am, among all men, most richly
blessed.
-Author Unknown
A Matter Of Trust
I became a guide long before I became an entrepreneur. That's important because it reveals motivation. Don't get me wrong, I don't deserve an award or a round of applause. But for context purposes I believe it to be important.
When I first began this journey almost 7 years ago, we were living in a different time. People (specifically in the corporate world) were running at a fast clip and hiding. Fast clip in regards to chasing down success, and hiding in regards to thinking success (rewards/outward manifestations) could shield us from having to deal with who we really are.
Then came along the meltdown. The economic stuff caught many off guard and left many facing detours or "road closed ahead" moments. Maybe God was doing us a favor. The quintessential "hey, you need to take off the mask and be who you are" moment. There really is no substitute for authenticity.
But here's the deal; not many coaches, leaders, gurus, consultants, et al. are advising you to pause and look around. Seems like there's just a lot of selling going on. 7 years ago it was how to turn all that fast-track good will into the next big thing, or a seminar on how to retire at 50. Now we've moved to programs on starting your own business now that Fannie Mae has sold us down the river, or how to turn government stimulus funds into a cash-cow.
Maybe you were meant to follow the path described above. But don't go there unless your wiring (your personality, your vision, your talents) is a fit. Don't follow that road because of someone's or something's dogma persuades you to. Life is so brief.
I have a vested (read my book, read my bio, see what others are saying) interest in you following the path that your destiny is screaming for you to follow.
Here are some things to weigh as you decide who you should trust:
- You've got to follow your gut. It is a trustworthy barometer.
- You've got to look for sincerity. This is done by asking tough questions that are important to you.
- Sometimes the most trustworthy people are those that tell you "no, I can't help you."
- To trust is to know beyond the business plan.
- Trust is found in those who stand on their motivations and not their outcomes.
This post and mission are all about a matter of trust.
The Running From, Running To Idea-Again
Learning From Your Mistakes
As I looked at my father's gravesite for the first time today, I couldn't help but think of his ability to just "move on." That's a very valuable tool in life and career.
He had presence, but he always had this sense to know when the game was over. Almost like a coach saying "we're down by twenty and there's only two minutes left…time to accept the loss and prepare for the next one." Knowing that you'd be better for the lesson of losing-no matter how painful.
We live in a time where success (outward wise) and glory matter a lot. Even though there really isn't as much value there as we think. The idea of mistakes/failures do not resonate very well in environments like ours. We'll peek behind the curtain only if no one is looking.
So whether you're responsible for a big project or trying change a behavior at home, you need to allow yourself room for mistakes. For example, when I first started to make running a part of my exercise routine I never considered breathing. I thought my breathing was fine just like always. Wrong! But the mistake (manifested by my lack of energy to finish) drove me to ask questions. Runner's World magazine helped me with the subject of proper breathing and my running got better. See my point?
Here are some ideas to consider, life and career, that will help you learn from your mistakes:
- Maybe the time has come for you to stop being afraid of making a mistake. People who are living to not "screw it up" are heart attacks waiting to happen.
- True love is found in mistakes. It stays even when the crowd disappears. This can be a great way to know who is really for you.
- Mistakes are indicators of your willingness to learn. See Thomas Edison's story for more on this.
- Mistakes are essential in the process of innovation.
- Mistakes will give you a gauge on your risk tolerance. If you're always avoiding mistakes, you won't dare something great. Greatness implies risk.
- Your followers are watching to find out if making a mistake is "OK." Your willingness, or unwillingness, will cast a wide shadow.
- Learning from your mistakes increases the chances of not repeating.
The Idea Of Pain In Life And Career
The following is an article/post that really moved me. It's a story you may know, but the lessons are timeless.
I found a part of myself in Mr. Jackson.
Pain
by Charles R. Swindoll
They called him "Old
Hickory" because of his tenacity and grit. His mother chose "Andrew" on March
15, 1767, when she gave birth to that independent-minded South Carolina rebel.
Wild, quick-tempered, and disinterested in school, Andrew answered the call for
soldiers to resist the British invasion at age thirteen. Shortly thereafter, he
was taken prisoner. Refusing to black an enemy officer's boots, he was struck
with a saber—Andrew's introduction to pain.
Although he bore the
marks of the blow for the rest of his life, Andrew's fiery disposition never
waned. A fighter to the core, he chose to settle arguments in duels and lived
most of his days with two bullets painfully wedged in his body. After he
distinguished himself on the battlefield, his name became a national synonym for
valor and stern persistence. When politics nodded in his direction, "Old
Hickory" accepted the challenge: first the Senate, then nomination for
President. The shadow of pain appeared again in another form as he lost a narrow
race with John Quincy Adams.
Four years later,
however, he ran again . . . and won! But pain accompanied the victory. Two
months before he took office he lost his beloved wife, Rachel. Grief-stricken,
the President-elect pressed on. Even as he was being sworn into office as our
nation's seventh President, he fought the anguish of a raging fever caused by an
abscess in the lung.
Some time later, one
of the bullets within him had to be surgically removed. He endured that
operation—done without anesthetic—in typically courageous fashion. Even his
political career was painful. A nasty scandal split his cabinet, and critics
clawed at him like hungry lions. Although he stood firm for many months, the
telling signs of pain began to manifest themselves. He was one of the few men
who left office, however, more popular than when he came. "For once, the rising
was eclipsed by the setting sun," wrote a contemporary sage. And it was pain,
more than any other single factor, which drew the qualities of greatness out of
Andrew Jackson.
Pain humbles the
proud. It softens the stubborn. It melts the hard. Silently and relentlessly, it
wins battles deep within the lonely soul. The heart alone knows its own sorrow
and not another person can fully share in it. Pain operates alone; it needs no
assistance. It communicates its own message whether to statesman or servant,
preacher or prodigal, mother or child. By staying, it refuses to be ignored. By
hurting, it reduces its victim to profound depths of anguish. And it is at that
anguishing point that the sufferer either submits and learns, developing
maturity and character, or resists and becomes embittered, swamped by self-pity,
smothered by self-will.
I have tried and I
cannot find, either in Scripture or history, a strong-willed individual whom God
used greatly until He allowed him to be hurt deeply.
It was just such a
person who wrote these words for all to read:
Guests
Pain
knocked upon my door and said
That she had come to stay,
And though I
would not welcome her
But bade her go away,
She entered in.
Like my own
shade
She followed after me,
And from her stabbing, stinging sword
No
moment was I free.
And then one day another knocked
Most gently at my
door.
I cried, "No, Pain is living here,
There is not room for
more."
And then I heard His tender voice,
"'Tis I, be not afraid."
And
from the day He entered in,
The difference it made!—Martha Snell
Nicholson
Excerpted from Come Before Winter and Share My Hope, Copyright ©
1985, 1994 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by
permission.