Appreciation for the Little Things that Make Life Awesome

You discover a lot about yourself and your surroundings when you choose to pick up and leave them. I find it ironic that I am infinitely more aware of, and drawn to, my environment and those who share it only after I decide that it’s time to take myself to a new place. Little occurrences start to acquire more substance than they did before, and somehow the mind becomes more open to new ideas and influences. That, after all, is one of the primary reasons for putting yourself out there and making yourself vulnerable by leaving your comfort zone, allowing yourself to learn and develop more as a human being, and experiencing everything that touches you with a little different light. This is intimately tied to the idea that “you never know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone” – only that the discoveries happen in the present and not the perspective tense. The elderly gent who I greet as he is sweeping up the leaves by the local grocery every morning, my local barista at Farley’s East who knows my coffee of choice and doesn’t even have to ask before getting it started, and morning rides in to the office with coworkers when the weather is good are all daily occurrences that bind a community in a very subtle and subconscious way. You might not be aware of them, and probably take them for granted, but it’s the little things that make life so enjoyable.

A few months ago I was talking to a close friend about relationships, with the observation that the last three of mine have been long distance. I was questioning why this pattern was occurring and the two questions asked were “is my daily social environment not exposing me to the people with whom I find the strongest connections” or “does travelling simply open your mind in a manner that doesn’t occur when you’re in your daily routine?” The answer is probably a combination of both, but I think that the more important observation is that when we put ourselves in a situation that is not entirely comfortable, we are far more open to people than when we are in our steadfast, routine environment. It’s an important subject because ultimately, if you want to grow and develop as a strong contributing member of your local society, there should be a balance of both. It isn’t healthy for most of us to continually pick up and go, but becoming entrenched in routine inevitably leads to a closed mind, which leads to another quote that I try to live by: do something everyday that scares you. Strike up conversation with a total stranger, hold the gaze of someone you admire when your tendency is to shy away. Sign up for your first 100k and them immediately contemplate diving into a 100miler six weeks later. Try a dance class when you know that the idea of moving your two left feet might land you in a position of humiliation. Laugh it off. When you move to a new place, you have no choice but to live with this mentality otherwise you end up lonely and a stranger in your own environment. The trick is to continue to stick to this idea once the comfort bubble begins to form so that you continue to experience life, and the lives of others, to the greatest extent.

By making these observations open and available, I hope that I can hold myself accountable as I, once again, move through this process of relocating to a place where the world is unfamiliar and everyone is a stranger. They say that words have more power once they hit paper, and that is why journaling is successful for so many people. Somehow that act enforces accountability. Since this is my open journal, I’ll make sure to use it to check on myself.

Tragedy Forces Introspection

Tragedy forces introspection. Whether it’s identifying with prevailing circumstances or trying to understand the reasoning behind an individual’s destructive behavior, we all turn on the narcissist in ourselves by making the experience personal. I should have seen that coming. Why didn’t I do that differently? How come they checked in to see how I was doing, but couldn’t come to me for help in return? We feel a need to make things about ourselves, despite the fact that the particular event probably had little, if nothing, to do with us.

And I had no different a reaction to hearing about the death of my business leader and mentor on that tragic Friday morning weeks ago. I’d be lying if I said my first major reaction wasn’t “fuck you Casoni … thanks for being such a selfish bloody arsehole and leaving the rest of us to deal with your aftermath! because that was exactly my first reaction after the initial shock subsided. And then The Questions began to arise. “What could possibly have happened to such a overtly positive, energetic and relentlessly passionate individual with so much going right in his life that could force him to take his life?” I’ll never really know the answer to that question because in the end, we all have a dark side that nobody but ourselves has visibility to. After a lot of internal contemplation, and conversation, I’ve realized that I really do not need to know - it’s a detail that simply does not matter once a person is gone because you can no longer reason with them about their impending behavior.

What does matter, to me, is how you honor a person’s legacy once they are gone. People come into our lives, and the truly great ones are able to sculpt a certain part of us in their image. We all become who we are as a result of our closest relationships with those with whom we chose to surround ourselves most. After all, an important part about human interaction is that others make us question our values, ideas, and behaviors. If we agree with our companions, we become better people because of our newfound knowledge. If we do not, it strengthens our own beliefs and makes us more resilient to outside influence – it helps us stand our ground. Either way we’re better off because of the experience. It’s tragic that sometimes death becomes the teacher. But, even in death, there are lessons to be learned and it can make you stronger as long you do not allow yourself to be consumed by surrounding negative energy. It’s in reflecting about all the lessons learned over the past year that I find solace in the face of tragedy. I am a more educated, stronger-minded, and ultimately a better person as a result of my time with him. I think that his ego would find reward in knowing that I will continue to grow now that he is gone.

A good friend and confidante recently shared some words with me that ring very true to the positive attitude I have been trying to take the past through weeks. They come via a man named Neil Pasricha, author of the book AWESOME. Neil preaches the 3 A’s of Awesome: Attitude, Awareness an Authenticity. My focus the past few weeks has been on the first – the idea that your attitude shapes the way you see the world, and in turn, the way others see you. You have two choices when faced with the aftermath of tragedy; you can wallow in pity and in grieving, or you can celebrate a persons’ existence and all that they brought into your life. Sure, there is a time for grieving and it must be observed. But the faster you move through that stage and on to the positive aspects surrounding any situation, the better you are. The positive energy you put out also helps others move through their loss.

Introspection has forced me to realize what is truly important to me – and that is to enjoy everything to it’s fullest, to realize what I truly value in this world, and to not allow my life to be swayed in a direction that I do not wish it to go. I am a stronger person as a result of a very tragic occurrence – and for that, Andrea, I thank you…


Neil Pasricha: The 3 A's of awesome | Video on TED.com

Of Trials, Tribulations, and Lessons Learned

They say you learn more as you grow. Make it up as you go. The same also preach that nothing in life comes easy. So what, then, do you get when you take a bunch of strong-opinionated individuals, all with opposite but equally valid arguments, and leave them to duke it out, with the winning blow set to determine an important element of product strategy for the next 3 years? Nobody told me that sticking your neck out with a good chance of having it chopped off at some point was part of the job description. Well, maybe they did and I didn't quite understand what that meant, exactly. Ahh, the life of a Product Manager! Which comes back to my original point; you learn more as you go, I mean, grow.

The growing part of this lesson is that, despite my innate tendency to play the diplomat and nurture peaceful collaboration, sometimes you need to stand up and call the shots. I have no problem with standing my ground; the issue is the shades of gray that I see which seem to creep into any given debate. I have always believed that it makes you a stronger leader when you have the ability to see all sides of an argument, assess the pro's and con's, and make an educated decision. What I am coming to understand, though, is that it is sometimes tough to put your stake in the ground and call the tough shots when you always seem to somehow identify with opposing data being placed on the table. I usually have a strong opinion on everything, and the risk-taker in me always wants to sway on the side of "ah, fuck it, with no risk comes no reward so lets go for it" but somehow the intellectual side (who knew that I had one of those) often manages to kick in right when definitive words are about to come out of my mouth. Old man, you taught me so well! Unfortunately, synopsis is important but at some point you need to make a decision, stick to your guns in the face of fire, and defend your position. That, for better or worse, is a skill that I am definitely learning from my boss. He may be wrong, and on certain issues I sometimes strongly believe that he is, but he isn't afraid to make decisions and defend them. Because that's what leaders do; they call the tough shots. Lesson learned. Neck going on the line again sometime in the very near future.

I may still be the nurturer in the group (hey, my name means "healer" after all) but today I added another implement to my toolkit...

Long Runs = Time to Think

You can think your way through a lot of things on long runs. You can really ponder about the stuff that warrants some attention during a good few-hour run. And, as I discovered on Saturday while enjoying my pacer-duties at the Western States 100mi, you can really dig into the depths when a 40miler takes you from the afternoon, through dusk, and well into the night...

Somewhere along the way, in the midst of much denial, thoughts that ultra-runners range from a little off-their-rocker to bordering on mental instability, and protesting against my "inevitable date with destiny" as a certain friend put it, I have been dragged kicking and screaming into the world of ultramarathons.

The truth is though, I've never been happier.

I've always been borderline fast; never enough to make anything of it, but just enough to keep me on the hook thinking that with enough time and hard work, I'd be able to run something fast enough to be proud of. Yup, my best days are definitely in front of me. I still have time to race a fast marathon. Hell, even my 5k can be drastically improved! After this weekend though, I don't think I really care any more.

I digress from my point; long runs, especially extremely long races, force you inside to face whatever it is that you have been 1) too busy for 2) too scared to deal with 3) name your next excuse here... because when you're out there hurting like hell, your escape routes are somewhat limited. You live from aid-station to aid-station. You crave the enthusiasm of the volunteers just waiting to cater to you hand-and-foot with whatever they have to offer. You see your crew and friends you've been wanting to catch up with for forever. You share a lot with your chosen steed, both spoken and through long bouts of silence. But at the end of the day, you're really on your own. The most logical option is simply to stop. But, since that isn't going to happen, the exertion forces you inwards to focus on whatever it is that you have been avoiding like that irritating sales solicitor knocking on your door just when you find time to chill out. It's an ironic oxymoron really; by taking every random thought and stressor and throwing them all into a pool together, somehow you come out with clarity and a sense of purpose. Maybe that's why the general demographic of "runs more than 5x/week" is a well-educated, above average and often type-A personality. We're all a bunch of worryers with too much on our minds.

I loved every second of that run and there is no place that I would rather have been. Despite being your longest run to-date, you know the effort is nothing when the woman you're running with has already done 60 just to get to you. And just happens to be the first female, which she remained all the way to the finish. That's another story to be shared at another time though. In the mean time, I have some focus, and I have the answers that I didn't know I needed.

Thank you long run.

You never know what you've got 'til it's gone

Which son of a bitch is responsible for that quote? Take it back, please, I get it already.

Why is it that no matter how old I get, I don't seem to learn the lesson behind that damn cliche. Live like it's your last day on earth, love like you've never loved before, I've heard it all before. So why is it that I only truly find out how much I value a friendship until it is threatened by the reality of distance? Is that routed in human nature, or simply my own stubborn way of existence. I guess the fact that the words have become a cliche in the first place answers that question. Regardless, I should be smart enough to transcend the stereotype, or at least learn my lesson on the (insert *high* number here) time around.

But, alas, no, I find myself feeling a little melancholy, somewhat disappointed, and very regretful for being the fool who didn't make more time to spend with said person when I had the chance. I'm not one for excuses, and there are none to be made anyway. Either you get the job done or you don't, and in this case, I don't. The romantic in me says that it's never too late to make amends, so I'm going to cling to that instead of the bottle of my favorite Red Zin that threatens to envelop my conscious entirely if I decide to pour another glass. At least I'm the wiser (read: scared to see what thoughts will truly come out) in that regard...

Lesson for the day: Don't be too consumed with the insignificance's of the day to focus on the things that are really important to you.