Category Archives: Goals

Vulnerable

So I read a post today on Live Your Legend which has been sitting in my pile of things to revisit for a while. It’s the first real foray I’ve had onto that site – at least as far as I can remember – and just this one post has convinced me that I should spend more time there.

The gist of it revolved around admitting your vulnerability, understanding when you’re being inauthentic, and considering the effects that being the incorrigible optimist might have on the people around you.  Check it out here, if you like.

I was hit really close to home.  Part of the business culture in which I usually submerge myself is very enthusiastic, very positive, very large, and very loud.  All of those things are great.  They’ve contributed to lots of fantastic experiences, and I’ve met many friends there.  It’s been a boon to me when I need an infusion of motivation or hope or positivity, and I think that I’ve been able to provide some of that to other people, as well.

Part of what this post reminded me of, though, is a darker side to that.  There have been times when I’ve felt that I’m the only one struggling.  That, even if everyone there wants me to succeed, my success isn’t critical or even significant to them.  As a pessimist, a T, and maybe a depressive, that’s sometimes really hard to deal with.  It’s a mark of personal failure and a hit to my pride and my confidence.  I think the comment I read about the BS Meter rang really true.  I’ve known people on their last legs who’ve insisted that everything was great.  I’ve seen people who, as far as I could tell, were trying very hard to convince themselves of the wonderful and positive stories that they were telling.  It turned me off of many of them, hard.  I’ve done some of that, myself, and I wonder how that’s affected relationships of mine over the past few years.

Again, that’s not to say that the whole enterprise is bad.  I believe really strongly in holding on to positives, successes, and progress.  The small stuff, in particular, has kept me going as much as or more than some of the big breakthroughs – sales, achievements, licensing, etc.  Remembering that, that one time, I opened my mouth to talk to a guy a thousand levels beyond where I was is pretty empowering, even though it didn’t necessarily have any bearing on any quantitative measure of my progress or success.  But the struggles, too.  So many struggles.  I worry that I’ll disappoint my wife, that I’ll let clients down, or that I’ll drop the ball for a friend, a new agent, or a mentor.  I worry that I’ll fall into the habit of hiding from success and saying that I tried, or that it was too hard, or that it wasn’t something that I really wanted, after all.

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On the whole, I think that my mindset is alright, and getting better.  I know that what I’m pursuing is the best chance that I’ve ever found – and I’ve looked – to find the success that I want in my life.  I know that what I do for people is the best program I’ve ever come across, and that it’s objectively just really damn good.  I know that I mean well towards just about everyone, and that if they don’t want what I try to offer, in terms of friendship, business, time, good vibes, whatever, then that’s not my fault.  I know that, if I don’t sustain some of this amazing head of steam that I’ve been building up, I’ll have to start over soon.  And I know that it terrifies me to run this track, because what if it all really starts happening?  What if I suddenly find myself at the head of a team?  What if they’re great people, who want and need and could have success for themselves, and I fall short?  It’s tough to deal with, sometimes, and it is frequently present enough that some days I feel like I’m tripping over it left and right.

But what if I am capable?  What if, even if I do fall short, I knew that others had been in the same position, and then recovered, and even continued to grow afterwards?  What if I was that kind of example to someone with a burning desire for something, someday?  That would be a success.

Coming out of a Shell

A: I’ve been thinking lately that I’m finally getting enough of the stick out of my ass that I’m getting a little more comfortable with the idea of being halfway competent at nurturing relationships with real people with real faces.  Maybe that has something to do with it 😛

B: I think a nice way to say it is that you’re coming out of your shell

Earlier this year, one of my big goals was to mitigate my compulsive introversion a little bit.  I didn’t know how I’d go about that.  I knew, though, that I wanted closer friendships.  I wanted more people to know more about what goes on in my head and in my heart.  I wanted to be better understood, and hopefully more truthfully appreciated by the people around me.  It wasn’t that I felt I was being false or misleading up to that point, but frankly I left a lot behind closed doors.  At best, I think I’d left a lot of room for people to imagine what I am or to infer it from real or perceived clues.

In some sense, I suppose that that goal of mine seems pretty obvious for its benefits.  On the other hand, I’m not kidding about that introverted business.  My social endurance is usually pretty lacking.  I’m a “caving” guy.  I normally have to take breaks from crowds here and there to recharge myself a bit before diving back into the fray, and even ask my wife for solitude at home on a regular basis.

From what I understand, that’s completely typical of introverts.  Despite loving my friends and wanting to appreciate people, milestones, and experiences, I definitely feel that being in social situations drains my batteries.  I recuperate in private, alone.

Variations on the theme permeate my life.  F’r example, I’m intensely private about my spiritual practice, for the most part – sharing in small rituals usually gives me the willies and I prefer improvised, idiosyncratic meditations to satisfy that urge.

These past couple of weeks around the holidays have surprised and shocked me, though.  Since I gave myself that goal to be more outgoing, more forthright, in contact with people I value, I’ve found myself more or less spontaneously doing so.  I attend more social events.  I have more conversations with more people.  More of them are less well-known and comfortable to me.  The recent culmination was playing a typically raunchy and damning game of Cards Against Humanity with my wife’s mother at that family’s Thanksgiving gathering, following grand and shameless political judgments at my family’s.

I actually flinched in a big way after the political business.  Something to the effect of “Holy shit, what did I just do in front of my grandparents?”  I’m not positive of what I had felt at that moment, but it was somewhere between panic and shame, I think.  I don’t think it was that my outburst after dinner was controversial – generally we all agree on at least the principal behind what I said.  It was way the hell outside what I consider my comfort zone, though.  I’d normally spectate through such a conversation or withdraw and take a breather.  Instead, I ranted a bit, and I argued a bit, and I loudly and publicly followed a chain of logic from premise to conclusion without allowing myself to be interrupted.

I flinched afterwards, once things had died down, and I doubted myself.  It truly was outside the scope of my self-image, and that scared me.  On the other hand, it’s what I’ve pointed myself towards for the better part of a year.  It’s what I’ve been studying some (yeah, I’m that kind of person) and reminding myself of and pondering and talking up the virtue of.  And the funniest thing?  That it’s starting to look successful.  And beyond that – can you keep a secret?

It’s kind of fun.

On Again, Off Again

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I have this nasty habit (previously discussed) of adding lots to my plate.  Usually it ends up becoming more than I can reasonably handle.  I’m not all that great at juggling lots of priorities and I have plenty of bumps and bruises from falling off of one wagon or another.  It’s humiliating when one of those priorities is something that I’ve professed to myself or to others is important to me – something I value and respect and want to honor, accomplish, or stick with.  It’s been diet, it’s been martial arts, it’s been taking care of my emotional state, it’s been my wife, and it’s probably been most everything that I want to be able to pay attention to with any regularity.

That humiliation feels like the bane of my existence sometimes.  It’s hard to swallow my pride and say that I’ve failed and that I’m coming back to try to pick up where I left off. It’s hard to admit to others or to myself that I’m not as capable or enduring as I’d like to be by coming back to face those priorities again.

On the other hand, coming back to those things that fall by the wayside for a bit is another way to demonstrate that they do matter.  I’m not perfect.  I’m not strong, smart, or tough enough to handle everything with its due attention all the time.  I try and try to maintain that state, but it never quite works, or never does for long.  That’s ok.  Returning to a thing to pick it back up is good and important no matter how awkward it feels.  Momentum is the least of what I lose, but any of that loss is better than sacrificing ideals, concepts, goals, or people that I value.

So the word of the day, I guess, is probably humility.  Yes, demonstrate it in public.  Don’t discount yourself or your worth, but don’t take yourself too seriously.  By the same token, be humble with yourself.  Know that you’ll fall off the wagon.  You’ll make mistakes, lose sight of your goals, forget basics and fundamentals.  Forgive yourself.  Refocus.  Remember.  Relearn.  You’ll get back on track.

Clutter

I live!  It’s been a while, and it’s been a busy one.  Lots to write about, but I’m going to try to keep this one short.

On the clarity of your ideas depends the scope of your success in any endeavour – James Robertsons

A thing I’ve been wrestling with lately – more than usual, anyway – is over-commitment.  I feel like I have, or want to, priorities, attention, obligations, and work to do in every direction sometimes.  There’s my wife (recently official) and my relationship with her, martial arts (recently re-christened Iron Pagoda Fitness Club), maintaining and improving friendships new and old, my day gig, my for-now-part-time business, other business ideas that I play with now and again, gaming with friends, hobby stuff, housekeeping, focused diet and exercise outside of the gym, reading, listening, studying, learning…  This list seems to go on forever sometimes, and my tendency is to want to see some kind of improvement in all of them more or less every day.  Preferably something measurable.  Preferably something quantifiable, plannable, executable, and check-boxable.

Naturally, this produces some problems.

That approach makes a lot of sense for a lot of things.  It does not make sense for some of the most important.  I can’t realistically check a box that says that I’ve helped my wife have a better day today.  I can’t realistically say that I have certainly accomplished things that will definitively make me a better friend to Kate or Ness or Chris or any of the mob in Madison.  I can’t say, in advance, that doing X at Y time will make me feel more spiritually fulfilled.  Some things I just need to be opportunistic about.  Some things I just need to do, and perceived quality or efficacy be damned.  I wrote a note to my best friend thanking her for being who she is and tucked it into her gift for standing with me at my wedding.  I try to do something every day that will remind the Cap’n that I’m thinking of her and that she and our life together are important to me.  It’s more important to exercise consistently and to pay attention to what I eat than it is to measure every second, every rep, every ingredient, every calorie.  It’s more important that I show up and work hard at Taijiquan and SPM than that I excel or show immediate, self-perceived “improvement” in every class or with every week that goes by.

Where I start to stumble is, I think, when I forget something that my Sifu mentioned to me the other day: Training is a refuge – a source of peace and stillness – and not a task or a job.  It applies particularly to SPM for me, but to some other things, as well.  SPM is fantastic because it hurts; bruising my body in destruction drills or having muscles so fatigued that it feels like my shoulders shouldn’t still be in their sockets or my legs keeping me standing gets me out of my head and into the moment.  It puts me in the now, where I stop worrying about what I need to do, what I haven’t done, and what’s looming over the horizon.  Painting minis does that for me when I get lost in the details of the model.  Clean brush, apply paint, clean brush, apply paint, clean brush, correct paint, clean brush, apply paint…  Even getting lost in a good novel for hours at a time.  All of them are special meditations for me.  Refuges from planning, maintaining focus, working against some of my instincts and weaknesses.  They’re places where I can flow instead of putting myself on rails.

I need to be reminded sometimes to protect those sanctuaries, and to keep the kind of order required to meet some goals from creeping into my sources of a serenity that is both a goal in itself and a source of energy for continuing to pursue the rest.

The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore. – Vincent Van Gogh

More hinging on martial arts today!

So one of the reasons that Southern Praying Mantis Kung Fu appeals to me is that it’s aggressive and decisive.  One of the changes I’d really like to see/make in myself involves fostering those qualities.  I’m naturally sort of an engineer, I guess.  I love details, planning, plotting, and drilling down into reasons and ramifications.  That’s a huge strength in many situations; I’m pretty good at financial stuff, math and science, logic (arguably), and other sorts of technically-oriented things.  The problem with it largely stems from a tendency toward analysis paralysis.  I’m prone to second-guessing myself, scrapping and rebuilding plans at the first sign of resistance, and just plain stopping at the planning stages of a given pursuit.

One of the great ways I’ve run into for characterizing personality types is the STAR system, popularized by Jim Hoyt.  The premise is that most people have one of four tendencies as a primary personality trait, usually with a pretty huge influence on their perspective on the world and interactions with people.  S is for Structure – people who like systems, processes, rules, and SOPs.  A is for Action – people who buy cars because they’re fast, who like being loud and visible and paid attention, and prefer to act from their gut rather than think a question through.  Rs are Relationship people.  They’re the kind of people who are genuinely hurt or distressed if you don’t accept two pops, a cup of coffee, dinner, and dessert when you visit their place.

Ts…  Ts are Theory or Technical people.  At the extremes, a few things might be true.  If they own a fancy car, they can take the whole thing apart and reassemble it in better shape in one afternoon.  If they have a great stereo, they know all the circuit schematics and maybe have added an “11” to the dial because of the technical challenge.  They build their own computers if they’re chipheads and they’re power users in any program they latch on to.  They don’t keep pictures of people in their houses.  Ts, I prefer to think, are not misanthropes, but really do tend to exist in a very detail-oriented, mechanical, and intellectual frame of reference.  A thing that isn’t practical or functional is hardly a thing at all.

I also like to think that I mitigate some of the social issues that arise from being a strong T.  When I’ve taken STAR assessments in the past, that aspect has always been primary for me.  Usually, though, R and A are also fairly high.  To some degree those compensate for the “weaknesses” of a pure T.  I’m not all that often inclined to be social, but it’s not for lack of love for friends and I absolutely cherish time that I spend with them.  There are times when action is required and having some A in me has saved my hide on a few occasions.  I feel like that A also plays a lot into my spirituality, incidentally, since I consider myself largely intuitive and spontaneous despite relatively rational foundations.

What really throws me, and where I want to find a better balance, is in long-term action.  Like I said, I tend to be a pretty thorough planner.  I can incorporate ratios, statistics, scheduling, daily activities, etc etc.  I can understand (I think) how to get from A to B in a lot of different circumstances, especially with time to research and learn where I feel like I’m lacking.  The disconnect is in the doing.  I might stick to a long-term plan for a few days or a week, or stay on top of record-keeping for a long string of related tasks, or whatever else before getting distracted or reconsidering or second-guessing or just becoming disenchanted by whatever plan or by the labor and focus involved…

…Huh.  Maybe I’m thinking backwards about this.  Was going to get back to hoping SPM would strengthen my A streak, but that can wait for another time.  I had in mind that I’m too much of an extreme – such a T that I naturally exist in more or less constant planning and not much doing.  On the other hand, though, maybe I’m having issues not because I’m too much of a T, but because I let too much of my gut-checking, immediate gratification, easily-distracted A butt into my headspace while I’m acting on my grand and far-reaching plans.

That’s probably a thing worth paying more attention to.  As tend to have trouble with things that aren’t immediately visible or visceral.  If I have a 1, 3, 5, or 10-year plan involving amounts of money, situations, rewards, and sensations that I don’t know well-enough to feel in my gut, it makes some sense to me that the A side of me gets bored and restless when I’m acting to make progress on those long-term and lofty goals.  Trying to make the execution of said plans appeal to my T side for the sake of validation and realization might be more helpful than giving my A side such detailed parameters to work in, even if I  am trying to be proactive, aggressive, and in motion.

So maybe a lesson learned – or remembered, more properly – during my writing today:  Sometimes it’s better to be constructively unbalanced than to strive for equilibrium.

You don’t bring good to the world by suffering; you do it by getting off your ass and doing good in the world. – Me