A song found me last evening. Seemed appropriate, considering the events in Connecticut. So heartbreaking…
Keep a fire burning in your eye Pay attention to the open sky You never know what will be coming down I don't remember losing track of you You were always dancing in and out of view I must've always thought you'd be around Always keeping things real by playing the clown Now you're nowhere to be found
I don't know what happens when people die Can't seem to grasp it as hard as I try It's like a song playing right in my ear That I can't sing I can't help listening
I can't help feeling stupid standing 'round Crying as they ease you down Cause I know that you'd rather we were dancing Dancing our sorrow away (Right on dancing) No matter what fate chooses to play (There's nothing you can do about it anyway)
Just do the steps that you've been shown By everyone you've ever known Until the dance becomes your very own No matter how close to yours another's steps have grown In the end there is one dance you'll do alone
Keep a fire for the human race And let your prayers go drifting into space You never know will be coming down
Perhaps a better world is drawing near And just as easily, it could all disappear Along with whatever meaning you might have found Don't let the uncertainty turn you around (The world keeps turning around and around) Go on and make a joyful sound
Into a dancer you have grown From a seed somebody else has thrown Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own And somewhere between the time you arrive and the time you go May lie a reason you were alive but you'll never know
Have you reached that point in your life when you suddenly
realize that there are more days behind you than there are ahead of you? If you
have, then you may find yourself wondering “was it all worth it?” or maybe
even, “is this all there is?”
The midpoint of life, under normal circumstances, is an intense
transitional experience. These are not normal circumstances. The current
economic, social, political, physical and spiritual environments seem to be
more turbulent than at any other time in recent memory.
Some of us may be facing involuntary career changes. Many of us
are watching the retirement funds we so carefully and painfully saved over a
lifetime, evaporate right before our eyes.
We may have once dreamed of retiring, but now a body that arises
each day with the discovery of new aches and pains, is joined by a mind that
awakens to the reality that the rest it had been promising itself for so many
years continues to linger, like a desert mirage, just on the horizon ahead.
This is suppose to be a time when everything we have labored for
comes together for our own good as we triumphantly live into the sunset of our
legacy. Yet, as we stand on the edge of own “Legacy Cliff”, it is so easy to
think, “I can’t get there from here.”
For some, the second half of life ushers in a melancholy moment
of despair. This is because society celebrates youth and encourages us to
tightly hang on and celebrate it with the utmost zeal for as long as we
possibly can. Yet the longer we hang on the more fearful we become. For when we
live by the light of our greatest hits, we find ourselves increasingly unable
to do what we “use to could” do.
This can be a very confusing time because the first half of life
naturally calls us to define ourselves by what we do. The future calls us to
examine who we are, and who we want to be; which can be a very scary thing
Living into the future affords us the opportunity of regaining
and maintaining our energy. We must be willing to leave behind everything we
have done for the sake of living into who we are supposed to be. To be clear,
the only way we can survive the trip over the “Legacy Cliff” is to let go of
the past and live into the future.
That sounds harder to do than it is. All that is required is an
evaluation of who we want to be. To live into this defining moment we must be
willing to see who it is that we want to be before we cross the finish line of
life. Then we must allow this vision of potential to permeate our being. By
that I mean that we allow this vision to purposefully guide every thing we do.
It isn’t that we no longer do; rather we insure that our doing is
connected to who we want to be. As we look to the future we realize that we can
no longer sacrifice what really matters to the demands of what merely
momentarily matters.
The first half of life is filled with dreams. The second half of
life is filled with aspirations. Dreaming means to listen to our desires and
invent an image of the future. Aspiring means to breathe life into the deepest
desires of our heart.
As we spend our most productive moments contributing value at
work, we often tell ourselves that the day will come when we can live into our
own aspirations. That day only comes for those who go over the cliff without
any thought of looking back.
Happiness comes to those who realize that they no longer need to
worry about what they are losing as they age. Instead they see and understand
the gains that come from growing whole.
To me, growing whole means becoming the person that I was always
meant to be. It means reaching for my personal potential. It invites greater
levels of self-awareness. To become whole, I must be willing to examine every
aspect of my life. I must be willing to embrace being who I am over doing what
I do. I must be willing to learn and grow.
Wholeness inspires a constant focus on reaching for the next
level. Our eyes must always be looking to a promising and fulfilling future.
When we stop reaching for the next level, we start feeling out of focus,
disconnected, and even burnt out.
Sometimes, legacy is incorrectly defined by what we leave behind.
While most of us are strongly connected to that idea, I have come to appreciate
the probability that legacy also yields a forward-facing and future outcome.
Only a portion of our legacy is bestowed upon those who follow us. The other
portion is carried on with us as we move toward our own potential.
In fact, the etymology of the word legacy presents a convincing
argument that it was never intended to be about what we leave behind. Instead
it suggests that it denoted the continual shaping and reshaping of a future
outcome.
Thus, living into our legacy inspires multiple directions. What
we leave behind is important but the purpose of this life is to learn and grow
through our own experiences. This means we be willing to live into a bright
future. To do otherwise is to grow old and die. Yes we will cross the finish
line someday, but the notable energy levels of one who crosses in wholeness
compared to those who cross in oldness is quite remarkable.
Normally, this is the space where you get to hear all of the
suggestions an author has for you, some sort of numbered step by step list for
you to live into the things being prescribed. But this wouldn’t be your list,
so it wouldn’t be very meaningful.
Instead, I want you the reader to be the coauthor of this
article. In fact, I want you to write the ending all by yourself. It is my hope
that you will take a moment to reflect on the following questions and come up
with your our list. I am certain that doing so will allow you to fly right over
the Legacy Cliff as you identify the person you want to be. Are you ready?
Who do you want to be when you grow whole?
As soon as you get a clear picture of who you want to be in your
mind, please capture your the actions you must take to become that person. What
are they?
Now, before you leave this space please decide if you are
committed to doing those actions so that you may become that person. Be honest
with yourself. If you are not, then go back to step one and redefine who it is
you want to be.
If you gave this your full attention, then you are now free to
let go of the past by living into your future. It’s your legacy. Reach for it.
Dr. Andrew Thorn is the founder of Telios Corporation and
creator of TheTelios Experience™. He holdsa PhD in Consulting Psychology, a Masters in Personal and Executive Coaching, and
a Masters in Business Administration from Pepperdine University. Dr.
Thorn is also the author of U-wun-ge-lay-ma: A Guide to Next-level
Living and the upcoming book Who Do You Want To Be When
You Grow Whole? The Future of Meaning and Purpose. He
lives in Apple Valley, California with his wife Stacy and seven children.
I wrote the following post almost 5 years ago. In some ways timeless. I'm convinced everyday that I don't "have time." A great sadness that many live everyday thinking they do.
I'm all for finishing strong/well. However, the myth of your best years being found in some future day is insane. I say that due to the importance of the choices you make now and how they will determine those years-taking for granted that you'll see them. Forever now!
I can't think of a more fitting place than our career to illustrate how this type of logic reigns. It's subltle and deceptive all at the same time. If a leader doesn't see his or her life as a whole, then a incongruent outcome is almost always certain.
As leaders seek to navigate a career and a life, I would suggest the following:
Think long and hard about value. Specifically, the value you're creating over time. In many ways it's like starring in your own motion picture. Create Epic Value for all those playing a part in your story. Keep in mind, there are no do-overs. You will either create value or you won't.
Before you read that next journal, newspaper or marketing pitch take a step back and question the motives of the messengers. For example, many marketers are dying on the vine, so selling is job 1. What they're selling might be designed to move you in a direction that isn't aligned with your destiny.
Stop thinking you have time. We're all terminal, its just that some know and some don't. Don't mean to go morbid here, but seeing life as a limited time offer should inspire you to stop screwing around with small desires (titles, money, fame, and power).
Be Authentic! Let the world see who you really are! If you don't like who you are or think that who you are has no value, then contact me and I can prove that you have a reason to be who you are.
Place more value on people than math, no matter how much the numbers say to do otherwise. Besides, if you're in a position where numbers matter more than people, be afraid, be very afraid.
"The accident happened on June 19 1999. King was strolling alongside Route 5 near his home in Bangor and looking forward to seeing a film with his family later that evening. As he walked, a Dodge truck barreled towards him. It was driven by Bryan Smith, a drug user with multiple driving convictions. A Rottweiler called Bullet was loose in the truck and had jumped on to a seat where there was a cooler of hamburger meat Smith had bought for a barbecue. Smith became distracted by his dog, swerved across the highway and hit King. The writer managed to turn his head a little before impact and thus missed being struck by a steel support post on the truck that would probably have killed him.
King's head left a many-tentacled crack in the windscreen. He broke his right hip joint, four ribs and his right leg in nine places. His spine was damaged in eight places. "The accident gave me a real sense of mortality, a sense of hurry that I didn't have before. Not immediately, but about a year after the accident I was able to say: 'That guy nearly killed me.'" Smith died of an overdose 15 months later on September 21, King's birthday."
Thought about my dad today and what God takes away. Certainly that implies that something, or someone, was given. I see that now.
As I was processing, I asked myself why I would still be writing about him. It has been almost 4 years now. For all I know, you might even be thinking why. Your first inclination might be to look at me as a grieving son or someone that has unresolved issues. All may be true, but I also thought of you. At the risk of sounding redundant, much of what I write turns toward you. As it should be…by way of experience.
Are you in a place, in the living years, where you can't resolve the unresolved? Still fighting, still fighting back what you'd prefer to forget?
I guess I feel that my process of dealing with my dad's living and dying was for a purpose deeper than the loss of a human life. I know that I'm not alone. On more than one occasion I've had people write me to say they've been watching my journey. We live in a crowded world, so if Ed says he was watching, then I know it was for a good reason. I guess this post is for those that have never raised their hands.
My gut tells me some of you may be fighting an un-winnable war.
In the vast majority of my life with my dad I was entangled and by the time I became an adult I was too arrogant and angry to resolve it. I was warned, but I pressed on. My mistake. I eventually did make it right, but man it seems like it would have been sweeter to get there earlier. Could be revisionist history or a longing to have a chance for a "do-over." I'm ok, though, I'm still moving forward. He is pleased, I know.
Ok, what's the un-winnable war:
Anger toward someone (wife, ex-wife, friend, parent, etc.) that eats you from the inside out. Many times my wife and kids felt this with me. I have nothing to show for my investment, nothing.
Resignation that it won't get any better. Damn it, most everything can get better if we let it!
Making someone into someone they can never be. I spent years of hating my dad while trying to please him. He wasn't a bad man, just trapped in his own web unable to say and do something a son longed for.
Pretending that love isn't in your heart. A form of protection I suppose. Ironically, I found out after he passed that I do love him.
You don't control as much as you think you do. God has every right to take away, and we have the responsibility to make the most of the time we're given. Be careful here. Are you gambling that you have time? Are you thinking you can get to it later?
A post I wrote last year. Very important in our current climate today.
To say we live in an age of rapid change would be an understatement, so I'm calling all 21st century pioneers to step-in. For obvious reasons.
All of us have experienced some level of fundamental change in the last 10 years. That change may have left you hurt, vulnerable or invigorated…depending on your outlook and circumstances. I know many people who are waiting for things to "get better" or "return to normal." The rapid pace of life and the aforementioned change has left them looking back to a day that seemed better. They long for some place in the past that may have only been great in their heads. Regardless, it seemed to be better than the world that currently faces. I understand this and have had moments when I have longed as well.
So after some time of being at war with yourself and the world, perspective comes knocking. Do you answer?
I am convinced that we are living in the age of the pioneer. A time not unlike the 19th century America. A time where much was wild, unknown and adventurous. I'm sure many in those days were filled with mixed emotions and thoughts. There had to be the nay-sayers, critics and saboteurs. There certainly were men and women of courage.
The following are the reasons why we need pioneers-in work and life:
Untamed places need men and women of courage. These men and women have vision, energy and faith in what can be.
Pioneers are forever facing criticism and doubt. This comes from seeing what others often can't or won't.
Status quo people/organizations are a threat to breakthroughs. They will always exist, but should never rule the day.
Not everyone is called/meant to be a pioneer. That said, everyone should hitch there wagon to leaders who are.
The right type of pioneer is always into you and not what they can get from you. This is rare and vital.
Technology and the applicable disruptions.
The future is shaped by those who experiment and take risks, not those who bury theirs heads and pretend the storm will just pass over.
The wrong type of pioneers want in on the future too. Beware.
I live in a community that has many families. I think the last number I saw it was around 80-85% families. Last night I took a step back and looked around a room of parents and wondered if anyone could look back on their day and find something meaningful (a mark left so that world would know you were alive and contributed) poured out? Busyness is often a mask to hide our lack of purpose and happiness. Despite that, I really believe most want purpose and meaningful pursuits.
One of the areas of opposition is living in an age where we've defined "leaving a mark" down and we've elevated busyness as our substitute. In many ways we feel that a long list of activities produces substance. It doesn't. Enter stage left the mask of hypocrites. We're great actors and actresses. Giving the appearance that all is well and under control. We even have calendars to prove it and make it so. The problem with busy is it wears you down and out. The scary part is found in our belief that the alternative (quality, focused priorities, meaningful work) is not an option.
Look around you, how has all this busyness benefited us?
I'm not here to define what should be meaningful in your life. That's your job to tackle. But here's an acid test to try at the end of your day today:
The things i participated in today were meaningful because_________.
For some help, see my definitions of meaningful:
Saying I love you consistently
Time alone with God
Laughter
Helping my children answer the tough questions
Being authentic
Embacing nature
Physical exercise
Family dinners
Encouraging people through Epic Living (the work within the org.)
Managing and integrating what I value most into my daily existence
A post from 2008 that I got to thinking about this week. To this day, I'm struck by the silence on the input side of things.
It's easy to get excited by the output of one's work. In many ways, a leader can feel a sense of justification for what's flowing from their perspective tributary.
If you connect with glowing about your output, then you could be missing something vital. You could be missing the input.
Here's why you might not think, or like to think about, you input:
The input part is the hard work of your endeavor.
The input part is the pain of your endeavor.
The input part is the fears you've dealt with in the journey.
The input part is the hope within your heart.
The input part is the sense of destiny you feel deep inside.
There are times I still have to look away from my own "inputs." But we must look and examine what has gone into what has been produced.
There are some valuable benefits to embracing the input:
It will keep you from thinking your management style is a 10.
It will humble you and bring a sense of thankfulness.
It will redefine how you define success. You'll discover that the journey is where the gold is. Think about a marvelous road trip and what you see along the way. The destination can never compare.
It will help you know who really digs you. People who are for you are the ones that have time for you when no one can see the tangible (fame, wealth, influence, etc.) benefits of the output.
The world will smile at the thought of you because embracing input implies an inside-out approach.
The input is the gold found in our lives. Ironic how our age worships output instead. Some longing for meaning I suppose.
What do you do after the dream? Do you revel in the possibility of what, at this point, exists in your head alone?
The best dreams, dare I write, the type that come to pass are mixed with vision and deliberate will.
I've read it many times the quote of success being able to move from failure to failure and not lose enthusiasm for what could be. I tend to agree with that, even as I live in an environment that prizes winning to the point of obsession.
