Bloom where you’re planted
I got the chance to sit down with my friend Brent the other night. Our one-on-one visits are very few and very far between, but my brain would explode with all the magnificent goodies and knowledge I get from them if they were any more frequent.
Last Thursday was no exception. In fact, about halfway through our chat at Starbucks I realized I could (and should) have filled an entire notebook with the things we covered in just a couple of hours. Since I didn’t bother to even bring a pen, I promised myself to at least blog about one major take away from the time.
So here it is: Bloom where you are planted.
At first, I wasn’t sure where Brent was going with this. I mean, up until that point we had been talking mostly about our thoughts on Donald Miller’s (fantastic) new book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and how we appreciated Miller’s focus to live life through the lens of a story that’s being told. We’re all characters, Miller explains, and the story of a good character involves something he wants but must overcome something else in order to get it.
What Brent was trying to get at was something we had casually discussed before about my career path and where I was headed. I had mentioned being interested in going back to school thinking it would be a good thing to accomplish.
“Man, that’s a staller,” said Brent.
“A staller? Since when is school a staller? It’s something that helps people move forward, not backward.”
Brent continued to make his case though the lens of story. A good story, he reminded me, is one that cuts out all the boring crap that has nothing to do with advancing the plot. So unless I plan on making a career out of my current position going back to school plays not part in my story and is uninteresting to anyone who reads it.
There’s a constant struggle between the person I am and the person I want to be. The person I am has certain strengths and talents that I just can’t help having and that just can’t help excelling in the places where they excel. The person I want to be, however, can change from week to week as I fall in love with and discover new things, whether it’s music, photography, architecture, activism, politics, or anything else my heart fancies. The problem is that our nature is already in the process of writing the story we’re living, even if we take lots of tangents to get there. Think about the career path and you’ll see a linear progression whether you like it or not—and how you thought it would be or not.
“So just bloom where you’re planted,” Brent continued. “Wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, you’ve to shine then and there.”
How much more sense could that make? As long as we plant ourselves into a good storyline and try to bloom in all the places where the plot takes us, we’ll be living a good story.
And that was just a sidebar to the conversation.

A woman who works in another department practically hung up on me earlier this morning. I dug into another co-worker for something annoying he does, told another person how much her last email frustrated me and plan on telling my boss a thing or two before I leave for the day.
If one thing has become abundantly clear to me over the past few months, it’s that taking time for yourself isn’t just a good idea; it’s necessary. My infrequent blogging during that span is proof in itself.
I’m really enjoying Twitter’s
Lunchtime is popular around our office because (among other things, like food) it means our team gets to hang with each other like friends instead of co-workers. Some of us pack lunches, some pick something up and others just tag along but the point is pretty simple: meet in the conference room over TV and conversation.



