Sorry, Cupid

You know what I’m not feeling this year? Valentine’s Day.

Call me unromantic, unchivalrous a love Scrooge or what have you but I think it has nothing to do with that. In fact, I’m in love, love being in love and just plain love love and believe a day created by Hallmark hardly defines the way I feel about someone.

OK, that sounds a little harsh and maybe it is. I get what makes the day so great. I mean, who doesn’t want an excuse to get dressed up for a hot date? Also, it’s downright heartwarming to know that someone’s thinking about you and cares enough to call you Valentine.

I guess the reason I’m just not feeling it this year has a lot more to do with the fact that my wife and I are headed to about the most unromantic place in the world this Valentine’s Day weekend: Fresno. That’s right, we’re spending America’s one day-o-romance on a road trip to the armpit of the butt crack of California.

At my mom’s house.

the funny thing is this is the second straight year we’ve accidentally booked a trip on Valentine’s Day. Sure, Portland was pretty awesome and we wouldn’t trade that for the world’s largest heart-shaped box of chocolate. But how did we settle on Fresno this year?

So enjoy your candlelit dinners, flower bouquets and boxes of chocolate this weekend. We’ll be watching it from afar from the fertile ground of the Central Valley.

Tragic hero of the here and now

I’ve been dwelling on the idea of failure so much lately, I’ve thought about taking my name off this blog and just calling it #FAIL. While failure has been a thing I’ve been coming back to time and again this past week, I know I can’t obsess over it. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about failure, it’s that living in one’s own mind is the greatest failure of all.

Steven Pressfield calls this the Resistance, an invisible force that stands in the way of turning the inner creative energy of your mind into something tangible and real. It’s the Resistance that tells us we need to be inspired in order to start something. It’s the Resistance that tells us to fear the outcome of what we create.

It’s the Resistance that puts us in danger of becoming a true failure.

F. Scott Fitzgerald created the character Gatsby to show us that money and wealth does not protect us from becoming a failure in the love department. Arthur Miller’s Willy Loman characterized the failure of a destined common man obsessed with greatness. Both are the tragic heroes of their generation and are still relevant today.

If I had to add one more tragic hero to the list, it would be the person who succumbed to the Resistance and refused to fail. It’s the person who never acts on behalf of himself or others to achieve the incredible potential that he has. It’s the person who stays confined in his own mind, fearing that an obstacle in his path means the end of his road. It’s the person who has great intentions but never does anything to make them happen.

That’s the greatest failure I can imagine and the greatest tragedy that’s being written every day.

A frugal failure

When it rains, of course it pours. This week, however, it’s is raining failure and I love every bit of it.

OK, not literally dancing on top of the people that fail but you get what I mean. Right?

Yesterday, I wrote about failure as a required step for success. Just hours after posting my thoughts, Google Reader fired up another new post by Penelope Trunk that continues the failure streak.

And, Just a couple days after writing about time being the necessary factor in becoming an expert at something, Trunk writes yesterday about the need to be frugal in order to achieve success:

So I guess what I’m saying is that being an expert in something requires frugality. It’s not just a spending frugality. It’s a focus frugality. It’s the recognition that spending money is actually a distraction from the passion at hand. So the less you spend, the less you’re distracted.

Even though she stops short of calling it out by name, the bigger point for me is sacrifice. Filling in “sacrifice” for “frugality” you can see what Trunk is getting at: getting what you are after requires risky choices that may or may not pay off in the end.

Read also: In order to win something, you will probably have to lose something.

So, yes, it really does point back to failure. Andre Agassi gave up his childhood to swing a tennis racquet two million times before he won his first slam. Wilco had to give up their recording contract to release the album that made them famous. The list goes on and on.

Yesterday, I asked myself what I want so much that I would be willing to fail before getting it. Well, today I’m asking a similar question: What do I want so much that I would sacrifice nearly anything to get it?

Still no answer.

Agassi, Baldwin and why failure is an option

Over the last few days, I’ve been pushing my way through Andre Agassi’s new autobiography, Open. Unlike many Gen X-ers, I was too young to follow Agassi’s rise to tennis stardom, particularly the mullet, denim and “Image is Everything” era in the early 90’s. Most of what I know about Agassi comes from watching his later years, so I am appreciating the context I’m being given up to that point.

I get a lot out of autobiographies, which is why I love reading them. The thing I get most out of a good one is that failure is a required part of success. I am certain I’ve never read (or seen, for that matter) the story of someone who rose to success without a whole heck of a lot of missteps along the way. And if I have, I certainly don’t remember it because it was probably a sleeper of a tale.

The story of Agassi is no different. The book is a little more than 300 pages and took me more than half of them to get to his first gland slam victory, Wimbledon 1992. It’s not until page 200 that he even gets ranked Number One in the world. Up until then as a trial of losses, mistakes, obstacles, near-retirements, injuries and just plain bad luck.

Not what I expected from one of history’s best.

In fact, I am taken aback by the amount of losing that is covered in the book. Several times, I’ve found myself checking how many pages I have left and wondering if he has enough space to cover the incredible amount of success he has in his career. I’m still not sure he does.

Failure plays an integral role in Agassi’s story. He retells so much detail of so many losses that it’s almost uncomfortable, but at the same time it’s a very revealing look at the secret for success. It’s the same thing that has made Penelope Trunk write about what makes an expert and why Alec Baldwin has been a hot topic for Men’s Journal and Wired Magazine in the last couple of months.

The willingness to fail is not just part of the path to succeeding, it’s required.

Which gets me thinking. What am I willing to fail at time and again in order to achieve it? What am I passionate about that would drive me from point A to Z if it meant making 24 annoying stops along the way? What drives me?

Unfortunately, I can’t think of anything. Besides family and marriage, I have not engaged myself in anything that even remotely challenges me. Looking at my easy job, easy home and easy daily routine, I can honestly say I’m not driven; I’m coasting.

Having an easy life has never felt so wrong.

2010: The Year of a Better Story

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what effect story has on my life. After reading Donald Miller’s latest book and talking about the concept with friends, it was brought full circle during last week’s sermon at Parkcrest, where Rachel Oblon asked one simple question that will be my mantra for 2010:

Is my life worth paying $14 to see in a movie?

Rachel illustrated her point in many ways while clutching the base of a balance beam, comparing life experiences to riding the Disneyland tram and even citing Miller’s book. It was the aforementioned question that stuck with me most, however, and it will be something I ask myself over the next year (or more), whether it be for something as small as the coffee I drink to something as large as whether or not to go back to school or start a family.

Because, if I’m honest with my myself, my life has not been worth anywhere close to even the matinee price admission of a movie. No, not even close to the re-releases of Gigli or Glitter on a good day.

Everyone loves a good story. Even more, people love being a part of a good story. So what would you give up (or take in) today if it meant someone would actually pay to watch your life at the end of the day? This isn’t about a popularity contest or how to get the more attention. Instead, it’s a tool to gauge the success of living the life you were meant to live.

So here’s to 2010, the year of the better story. Hope to see you at the red carpet premier.

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.

Why I’m being such an asshole today

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.

“So why are you being such an asshole today?” you ask.

“You mean, why am I building so many awesome friendships?” I reply.

I went to bed last night with a hot head full of frustration from a few bad encounters that occurred throughout the day. It could have been an email that was a little snappy or a passive aggressive comment said in passing, but everything put together made even the smallest thing a big deal by the end of the day.

Normally I would brood over everything while making my wife suffer through the many ways I wished I would have responded or what I would like to say to them in my own fantasy land. But last night was different.

And now today is much different than most other days.

What I’m learning is that conflict and confrontation are necessary for healthy relationships and sanity. Doing a quick Google search on the benefits that confrontation has on friendships and working relationships made me realize why I haven’t done it very much in my life. Most of the crap we’re fed by self-help articles and books advise us how to avoid confrontation like it’s something to hide from when it comes lurking in the dark. Not only is it unhealthy to bottle in your fears and frustrations because of the stress it causes (have you seen or read Fight Club?), but it is also creating a generation of cowards.

And I’m definitely one of those cowards. Taking the steps to let others know about my frustration has been a a big step out of my hard shell.

As I’m learning to own my feelings and make them known to others, I’m also recognizing there is a fine line between productive confrontation and complete asshole that can easily be crossed. Productive confrontation, for me, is determining the frustrations and hurt feelings that will keep me awake at night and making a point to deal with those and those only. The end goal of any confrontation should be the ability to move past an issue and strengthen the relationship that’s being tested. Anything less is complete asshole.

So yes, that’s why I may look like an ass today. But trust me, it’s an investment in my relationships with co-workers.

Time for yourself

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 just haven’t been giving myself enough time to live life the way I was meant to live it.

And that’s not entirely my fault. Life does happen and sometimes we have to react to the things happening around us. So I do as I do and that’s just how I roll, right?

Well, no. There is something to be said for living flexibly and being able to adapt and react to things on a whim, though I don’t believe that’s the recipe for the good life. Life has to be lived intentionally in order to maximize our time, energy and talents.

Part of living intentionally requires that we occasionally withdraw from the things that put our minds and hands to work. Said more plainly, we gotta take time off for ourselves in order to recharge ourselves.

Sure, go ahead and tape the “Hypocrite” sign to my back. I haven’t been very good at giving myself the luxury of time. I could talk about the new house, how we’ve spent more weekends hosting people in it that living in it, the amount of stuff that has to get done at work, the after-work meetings that seem to come in droves or anything else that seems to take up my time to make excuses for how short on time I’ve been lately.

Yes, we really have had guests stay at our new place more than we have on the weekends since we bought the place in October. My wife and I just looked at the calendar and gawked that we’re booked for the last three weeks in December and the first two weeks in January. I’m definitely not popular, but it sure does feel like it this holiday season.

I normally use this blog to talk about work and internet topics (and the occasional riff on Starbucks) so I promise to tie all that in. Besides, staying on topic is one of the strategies for a successful blog—or unsuccessful in my case.

Creating time for yourself is just as effective in your work like as it is in your personal life. We can easily get caught up with any task that is thrown our way or jump at the opportunity to own a project. Just ask anyone with Responsibility as their number one strength. I don’t have it, but my wife suffers with that curse, err blessing.

So with that, here are a few ways to know if you are not taking enough time for yourself:

1) You think about work at home

This is a no-brainer. If you’re away from work, you should be able to take it off your mind for a while. Yes, we all love what we do but you’d even have to take a break from relaxing in Hawaii in order to spend some quality time with the wife and kids. Since my wife and I work together, this is really hard for us, but we’re working on it.

2) Everyday things start to annoy you

Does going to the gym, taking a shower, shaving heading to church or grocery shopping sound like a drag? These should be as easy as breathing and you’re in a bad place if they stress you out.

3) Your fingernails are too long

This is something I’ve noticed in my own life. If I was to make a list of most important things to do an any given day, clipping my nails would have to be last on the list at all times. It’s unimportant. But if you never get to it and start to walk around like Edward Scissorhands, you’ve got a problem.

4) You hold off going to the bathroom

We’ve all been guilty of trying to finish just one more thing before we make a BM. Then we look up at the clock and see you’ve been holding it for two hours and have to run like a mad man to the bathroom. Nothing pretty about that. If you don’t have enough time to drop a deuce, you’re not giving yourself enough liberty.

5) Your RSS reader has accumulated 300 or more unread items.

Give yourself some time to catch up on your blogs. For some of us, it’s the only continuing education we get so taking time to read them should be top on your list.

6) You can’t remember the last walk you took around the block.

Not sure what your neighborhood looks like anymore? You guessed it, that’s a problem. Get out and be at one with your community.

Our new digs

One of the great things about having a place in downtown Long Beach is that it’s in downtown Long Beach. There’s shops, restaurants, beaches, concerts and amazing public transportation and we’re just a half a block from it all.

The only downside is not having all our close friends and relatives within a stone’s throw of us. Between the two of us, Marcia and I have lived in six different states and have friends and family all over the place. Since a housewarming party with everyone in the same room is unlikely, we decided to do the next best thing and give a little virtual tour of our new digs.

Please excuse the paint cans, ladders and lack of furniture as we walk through the new place to give you a view of our first home.

Entitlement

The older I get and the more things I accumulate, the more I realize that I feel entitled to certain things in life. Lately, that’s most apparent in the things I own, particularly as I wrapped up the purchase of my first house.”This is mine, I own it and I deserve it,” says the voice in my head.

So that’s a pretty obvious example. But once I recognized what was happening, I began to look below the surface and realize that the feeling of entitlement has been fueling a lot of the frustrations and disappointments that I have.

Does that make sense? It didn’t to me at first, so I’ll elaborate.

I feel frustrated when my wife says something that rub me the right way. If she tells me I look fat in these jeans (which I don’t—I look awesome), I get a little pissed. I get a little pissed because I feel like I deserve a sweeter comment than that. In fact, I feel entitled to something more more complementary to my rotund physique.

There, that makes a lot more sense to me.

When entitlement brings on frustration and disappointment, it often leads to the fights, disagreements, poor decisions and every other super nasty thing that makes life just plain suck. It’s the unfortunate conclusion that whatever happens that goes wrong or not the way we planned, it isn’t our fault.

So the next time you find yourself in a domestic quarrel, business meeting disagreement or bar fight, take a quick step back and ask yourself, “How much of this is the result of me feeling entitled to something?” Because, often, answering that will humble you out of those feelings.