The Fight Within

On a warm summer night in 1999 I woke up groggy in the back of the ambulance. I had no idea what happened. A friend sitting next to me said that I had been "knocked out".  Hmmm... that's interesting because the last thing I remembered was standing on the sidewalk in front of Durty Nellies pub minding my own business. Okay, well, not exactly. I vaguely remembered trying to break up an argument between a girl I didn't know and some nameless faceless guy. Judging by the goose egg on my dome and my new black eye I don't think my act of chivalry was very successful.

Thus my short-lived career as a street fighter ended at 0-1.

Despite my winless streak, I've been thinking more about fighting. Maybe it's because of the time I'm spending in the Decatur Boxing Gym. Or maybe it's that I'm increasingly seeing fighting as a metaphor for life. Training, dedication, passion, endurance, hope, energy, confidence, skill, strength, and strategy are necessary for the fight. Oh yeah, let's not forget "fire-in-the-belly". At least if you're interested in winning.

Many of us are also fighting in other ways.
Fighting demons and addictions.
Fighting a life threatening disease.
Fighting real enemies in an overseas war.
Fighting for our jobs.
Fighting for our marriages.
Fighting to keep our kids safe.
Fighting to stay relevant in a world of noise.

But, the fact is that we are fighting. Winning and losing. And hopefully learning from our mistakes.

The English writer G.K. Chesterton once wrote...

"The full value of this life can only be got by fighting; the violent take it by storm. And if we have accepted everything we have missed something -- war. This life of ours is a very enjoyable fight, but a very miserable truce."

... "a very miserable truce"... I thought this was an interesting choice of words.

Do we choose to be passive and compromise instead of fighting for what we want? Sometimes.

Do we coast when we've achieved a comfortable place in our jobs or relationships? Sometimes.

Do we stay at the plateau in our training? Sometimes.

That's the "truce" to which Chesterton is referring. It's easy to ignore and sweep under the rug. Dreams and achievements are sometimes put on lay-a-way (does that even still exist?) because we aren't willing to pay the price for attainment. Where price = the heat, friction, aggression, action, and fight required to make it happen.

So, tomorrow for at least one hour, I'll be a fighter.
I'll go to the boxing gym.
I'll wrap my hands and warm up with some shadow boxing.
I'll be in the moment when I do my footwork and rope skipping.
I'll punch the bag with anger and fury until I hear the bell marking the end of the round.
And, then I'll punch some more.
I'll try my best to execute crisp combinations with the pad man.
I'll try not to be discouraged because I'm still learning.
I'll be tired and spent and try to do the 100 sit ups to close the session.
I'll take some pride by knowing that few of my friends are doing this.
I'll go home feeling alive because I was fighting.

But, it's not about the gym.  Now it's time to take the fight to the rest of life.

PS... For an excellent perspective on life and fighting, check out The Glowing Edge blog by Lisa Creech Bledsoe.

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TomMc

Operation Optimism & The Little Black Book

I admit it.  I'm an office supplies junkie.  I love pencils, organizers, Post-Its, calendars, Day-Timers (that's the "old school" word for your Outlook calendar).   A quiet afternoon in OfficeMax is my idea of good time.  There are few things in this world that smell as great as a brand new notebook.   Strange?   Yes, I know.   And it's back-to-school season so Lord Help Me.   

At a conference in Vienna two years ago I scored a sweet little black moleskin notebook.   The kind that fits in your pocket with the elastic band around the cover.    I was so psyched!   I imagined myself filling it up with all kinds of smart thoughts and plans.    The key word there is "imagine" because I didn't do anything with it.  It sat on my desk for two years.   Empty.   I'd occasionally admire it but never took any action.

As I get older (uh, I mean "more mature") I increasingly realize that progress is more about action than intention.  Inspiration must give way to perspiration.   And so, finally, 21 days ago I deployed the moleskin to the front lines.   Its mission was to capture three good things every day.    Three good things.   Every day.   No exceptions.

I read that if you write down three good things that happened to you every day that you can improve your sense of optimism.   Kinda like building your optimism muscles.   In addition to the importance of action I've also learned that optimism is equally valuable.   So, the little black book was enlisted as the tool for Operation Optimism.   

I also decided to "commit" to the operation for 21 days which I've read is the exact number of days (who figured that out?) to form (or break) a habit.  The first 21 pages of the little black book now has three good things jotted down.  On every page.    Good workouts.   Hugs from my girls.   Good meetings at work.   Confident presentations.   Good preparation.    A nice sunset on the beach.    Every page.   Every day.    Even the the days that weren't so great, I managed to harvest three good things. 

Is it working?   I think so.   At least I can tell you it's definitely a habit.   I always make sure I know where my wallet, my cars keys, and the little black book are.   It's kinda part of me.   Is it making me more more optimistic?     All I can say is that I definitely know that three good things will happen today!  

The little black book has about 100 more pages and I'm hopeful (hey, that's optimistic!) they'll be filled and dog eared when I get to the end.

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TomMc

Hedgehogs Aren't Tepid

Yesterday my four year old daughter Marley told me that she wanted to be a hedgehog when she grows up.  This is a slight course correction from her previous career aspiration as a pirate.    I resisted the urge to act like a "grown up" and tell her how you can't really be a hedgehog when you grow up.   I just simply said, "Okay, that sounds like fun!"   Hey, if you really like hedgehogs and want to have pointy hair, crawl in the back garden and eat slugs, who am I to burst your bubble?

Then, I started to think about becoming a hedgehog myself.  In fact, I was somewhat envious of Marley's no-holds-barred-dream-the-big-dream mentality.  Like most parents I've always tried to balance a career that provides stability and income with one that provides fulfilment and joy.    Most of us (at one point or another) have had a beer or dinner with a friend and said, "I really hate my job".   Likewise, many of us have been in the opposite situation and reported, "I totally love my job!"    Fantastic!   Guess who's picking up the bill?

Of course, the reality is that over 20 or 40 working years these conversations will ebb and flow.  There will be periods (months or years) when it will feel like walking in the desert.   And, there may be periods when you feel like an unstoppable omnipotent promotion getting machine.  

The point is that there is a spectrum in your working life between Love on one end and Hate on the the other.   Lurking in the middle is Tepid.   Unfortunately that's where a lot of us (especially in mid-career) hang out.    We might say things like "It pays the bills."    And, hey, in today's economy simply payin' the bills is not a bad place to be.  

But, saying something like "I want to be a hedgehog when I grow up" is all about Love.  That's your inner child (or your outer child if you happen to be four) gushing forth wanting to become something they love.   There is something powerful and liberating about striving towards the "Love" end of the spectrum.   There can also be something financially rewarding about aligning your strengths and passions with your paycheck. Of course, moving from Hate to Tepid or from Tepid to Love requires thought and introspection.  More importantly it requires action.    Moving through the spectrum (in the right direction) will require work.  And, work is something that requires motivation especially if you're stuck at Tepid or below.  

You only have one Life.   But, you can have may jobs and careers.   It's your choice.   It's a free country.    There is no one stopping you.    If Love means being a hedgehog, then be a hedgehog.   

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TomMc

One More Notch

When I turned 40 my wife bought me a nice watch for my birthday. For awhile I thought of the watch like a boy who admires a trophy. Holding it, eyes glazed by the shiny new thing.

For awhile I thought of the watch as something that celebrated my life so far. Something that was "congratulatory".

But then I started to remember the life of my best friend, Gary, who died unexpectedly from a heart attack at age 49. It was then that I started to think of the watch very differently. It made me realize that my clock is ticking.  Not just my watch, but my life. Every day we move farther away from the beginning and closer to the end. That's not morbid. That's just a fact. And, it was on that day that I turned the bezel to 40.

The watch has a rotating bezel with 0-60 "marks" used to track minutes elapsed (like for diving). So, I set the top of the bezel at 40 (my age then) to remind me that I don't have much time left (relatively speaking).  Sure, I wish I could have set the bezel at "20".  But, the best time to plant an oak tree is 20 years ago. And, the second best time is today.

A couple years ago a friend of mine who is 10 years younger noticed my watch and wanted to know if it had any special significance. I told him it did. But, it wasn't significant like a trophy. Rather, it was significant like a yoke.

The watch morphed from something "congratulatory" into something "promissory". It was less about marking what I had accomplished and more about the urgency of what I needed to do.   Or, maybe better yet, who I needed to become.


It reminded me of...

How much I needed to grow.
How much I needed to work.
How much I needed to sweat.
How much I needed to love.
How much I needed to pray.
How much I needed to play.
How much I needed to give.
How much I needed to live.

Every time I look at my watch I can see the seconds ticking away.

Then minutes.
Then hours.
Then, at midnight, the date flips.

It's harder to see the years ticking away... but, then I look at the bezel.  It reminds me to get off my butt and get some work done... or play with my kids... or run a marathon... or read a book.... or call someone I love.

The bezel is now set at 42.  And, in 10 days I will turn it one more notch to 43.

One.
More.
Notch.

Every day.
Every hour.
Every minute.
Every breath.
Every laugh.
Every smile.


... is ticking forward in time.

The watch reminds me that there is no tomorrow.
There is only today.

Or more precisely,
there is only now.

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- TomMc