Last week I wrote about how to Capture Your Year, and give yourself the gift of seeing how much you have accomplished and progressed without registering it. As part of that exercise, I suggested you share some of your Lessons Learned with others, and I'm here to take my own advice and share my Lessons Learned with you!
So, sit back and get comfy as we travel back over the year together and I share the first installment of my Top Lessons Learned in 2021: Lesson 1: Keep the faith - This is a big one I learned in lots of different ways this year. Two of my biggest life goals came true this year, one of which was to become a published author. For years and years and years and YEARS I wrote to my heart’s content - sometimes sharing my writing, other times keeping it to myself - always knowing I wanted to do more, and craft a life full of putting pen to paper or finger to keyboard. I didn’t know how I would find a publisher, or how I would reach more readers, I just knew that I wanted it and that I would keep going until “it” happened. And after seven years of consistently writing (and lots of other things too!), all the pieces started to come together. I met people. I pitched myself. I found agents to represent me. And then I got my first big paid writing gig. And then I got a book deal from a major publisher. It didn’t happen by wishing for it. And it took years for it to happen. But all along I never stopped knowing it would happen as long as I didn’t give up. As long as I showed up and did the work. (And guess what? My book is now available for pre-order!) So don’t let the unpredictability of how long things might take scare you from doing. If you want something badly, keep the faith, keep working, keep experimenting, and keep trying. Or, as one of my favorite quotes puts it so perfectly: "Never give up on a dream because of the time it will take to accomplish it. The time will pass anyway." Lesson 2: Think (even) bigger - This lesson is somewhat related to #1, but whatever your goals and dreams and aspirations, it can NEVER hurt to think even bigger (my friend Richard Brown said this perfectly in an article he wrote a few months ago where he talked about 3x-ing his income goal for this year and then making it happen in a few short-but-full-of-hard-work months!). There is no extra “cost” to thinking bigger, so don’t sell yourself short and keep yourself small. When I was thinking about the audiences I wanted to speak in front of, I didn’t limit myself to what I knew was possible or what I had already done. I imagined packed stadiums, and large arenas, and big corporate gatherings. And guess what, that’s what I am doing. It’s not to say “small” is in any way inferior or unworthy, it’s just that being bolder about our ambitions and visions means we start busting through self-imposed limitations and prove to ourselves that anything is possible. Yes, even for us. It’s that thing about shooting for the stars. Even if you “fail”, you’ll still land on the moon. So start seeing where you can think bigger and start surrounding yourself with people who think bigger too. We are so powerfully, if subtly, influenced by the people around us and the thoughts we let in. I've got more of my Lessons Learned coming your way in the weeks ahead, but till then, please take some time to let these first two sink in. Where can you keep the faith and keep going? And where can you think bigger? I'd love to hear about it.
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I don't know about you, but I love this time of year. It's when the world starts to both pick up and wind down. It’s a great time for reflection and review and that’s why this week I wanted to share with you one of my all time favorite leadership and performance habits: Capturing Your Year.
Now, I hear so many people talk about 2020 like it was a “lost” or “throw away” year. The focus on the fact that COVID robbed many of us of new experiences, change, growth, or variety (not to mention the mental and physical toll). But that is a terrible way to view any amount of time, much less an entire year. Even in the midst of challenge and adversity and upheaval (that sometimes felt like the “same old, same old” every day), we grow and change and progress. It might not be the way we are used to growing or changing or progressing, but I don’t know a single person who is the same in 2021 as they were in 2020. It’s just that they might not have registered the changes or growth or progress concretely. And what a waste that is. What a waste to look at a day, a week, a month, a year and think “Man, I’m glad that’s over.” Sure, there might be things we’d like to forget, but let’s not throw away the proverbial baby with the bath water! No matter what you think of any 365-day period, it’s always worth investing a bit of time to reflect on what has happened. So, as we get towards the end of another year, here’s a step-by-step plan for how you can make the most of all that has happened this year:
So don’t rely on your memory. Join me this November as I sit down to do the same. Crystalize the key lessons and takeaways from your year. Make them concrete by writing them down. And share them (if you want to!) so that others can learn from your generosity and honesty. I’ll be sharing my Lessons Learned in 2021 with you, starting next week, so stay tuned! Almost a decade ago, I was having lunch with a dear friend and we were half-laughing, half-crying about our inner nerds. I was bemoaning my need for “gold stars,” and it was then that my friend said what has stayed with me all these years: “I get it dude, it’s your Lisa Simpson complex. I’m the same.”
Now for the unfamiliar, Lisa Simpson is a cartoon character who is endearingly obsessed with perfection and good grades, with being the archetypal “good girl.” And my friend’s comment has stayed with me all these years because elements of my “Lisa Simpson complex” still infect so many big and small aspects of my life, and it’s something I have to work hard to keep in check. (But her comment also reassured me that there are other “Lisas” out there… maybe you’re one too!) Now, part of me is proud to be meticulous and painstaking about things that are important to me (good grammar, detailed P&Ls, folding my clothes just-so… you have to have standards, so they may as well be good ones!), but part of me also recognizes that there’s a reason “pain” is 36% of the word “painstaking,” because too much Lisa Simpson is no good. It is painful. And it can be destructive. And it can give too much power to people or things outside our control. And it is only with a lot of practice and the perspective that comes with time (I won't say "age" just yet) that I have finally started letting go just a little bit of my once-near-obsession with getting gold stars and being "perfect" in all aspects of my life. I know I will never NOT care what other people think of me, but I have started to be selective about whose opinion I DO care about (Are they qualified to have an opinion? Have they been in the ring themselves? Or are they just haters raining down popcorn and peanuts from the cheap seats?). I know I will always want some actual or symbolic gold stars, but I have started getting better at giving them to myself. I know there will be times when I look at my businesses or look in the mirror and only see the things that need “fixing,” but I have started getting better at focusing on what is amazing and beautiful, too. As high-achievers, I think sometimes we put so much pressure on ourselves to be everything to everyone and to do it all perfectly, often by a standard of perfection or performance that someone else has given to us. And I get it. Wanting to be “the best” is hardwired into my DNA. One of my favorite stories about my mom goes something like this: When she was around 8 or 9, she came home from school bawling her eyes out, shaking with sadness. Her grandfather – my great-grandfather – rushed out of the house terrified by her distress, and asked her what was wrong. Through sobs and snot, she told him it was because – wait for it…. – she had gotten a 98 out of 100 on her exam! And even as I type this I am smile-crying because god, do I understand her despair. I wish I could transport through time and give the 8-year-old version of my mom a massive hug for feeling those two points so deeply… My friends, this stuff is hard. Being a leader is hard. Achieving big things is hard. Being a human is hard. Having high standards is hard. But it is also sometimes – maybe more of the times than we realize – made harder by our own doing, by that self-imposed soundtrack nattering in our ears making us forget that a perfect score isn’t the goal, and that what we are doing or have already done is pretty damned great if we would just allow ourselves to see the damned greatness. So, all I’d like to suggest is that from time to time, we let go of those two points and turn the perfection soundtrack off. That we give ourselves credit for how many points we DID get, how many new customers we DID get, how many milestones we HAVE achieved, and to focus less on how far there is still to go. For me and so many us, the trick, the work, is finding the elusive sweet spot between striving and accepting: striving for more and better while accepting where, and who, we currently are. It’s not about becoming complacent, it’s about recognizing that sometimes, even when we do our best, all we’ll get is a painful 98% and a tearful walk home, but our grandfathers will still be there to hug us, and we’ll still go on to have amazing lives full of inner and outer achievements, and maybe one day, sixty years into the future, we’ll have daughters (literal or figurative) who write lovingly about us and admire us for all the times we chose not to give up, not to stop, not to throw everything away even when we were less than perfect. And it’s about recognizing – as my great-grandfather said to my mother all those years ago – that sometimes those two points aren’t ours to have, anyway. Sometimes 98 is our perfect score. And that really is perfect enough. I was standing in front of my closet the other day packing for a work trip when out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a hideously ugly dress that made me smile and then laugh hysterically.
The dress in question is extra-wide A-line with poofy white sleeves, life-sized faces of strangers covering the front and back, and has two large slits near the neck for a harness. Oh, and it's made of made of neoprene. Now before you question my sanity - or lifestyle choices - for owning a dress that comes with a harness, let me hasten to explain that it was the dress I wore for the Opening Ceremony of the London 2012 Olympics. The ugliness of that dress makes it all the more endearing, because from so much ugly came so much beauty: I became friends with three amazing creatives who were fellow volunteers, and am still close friends with them now. And I got to be a part of a once-in-a-lifetime event in an up-close-and-personal way. I mean when else was I going to be in a world-class sports stadium rubbing elbows with world-class athletes? Being a volunteer for the London 2012 opening and closing ceremonies was one of the best adventures of my life. And I spent that summer eating horrible boxed lunches (cheese sandwiches, Pringles, and Nature Valley bars EVERY DAY for two months) instead of doing the "smart" thing for my career, which would have been to get an internship with a top-tier consulting firm (I was an MBA student at the time). But I didn't choose "smart" that summer, I consciously chose adventure. Because one of the guiding principles I try to live my life by is to always say yes to adventure. My friends, life gets shorter each day, and as high-achievers with big ambitions, we can get so consumed with achieving and doing and growing and learning and accolade-collecting that sometimes we forget about fun. Sometimes we forget that we need work AND play (even when work already feels like play). And sometimes we forget that adventure can come around every day if we are open to seeing it. I'm not advocating hedonism or the mindless pursuit of new-ness or throwing responsibility to the wind. What I am encouraging is that we at least consider saying yes the next time adventure comes by our door. It might come in the guise of a new business venture. Or a book idea. Or a trip to Nashville. Or a walk around that museum we pass everyday. Or confessing to someone how we truly feel about them (good or bad!). Or having a conversation with a total stranger who strikes us as interesting. Going on an adventure isn't about bungee jumping and sky diving; it's about finding the thrilling aspects of the things we encounter every day and letting ourselves be thrilled by them. It's about (at least sometimes) choosing joy over ROI. About saying yes sometimes when we might otherwise have said no. And for me, it's also about living the type of life that will take me on all the physical, emotional, and mental highs and lows I can cram into my brief time on this amazing planet. So, as you look to the week ahead, and the weekend, and next month, and next year, what adventure will you say yes to? What adventure will you allow into your life that will stretch you, grow you, nurture you, or simply make you smile, then laugh, when you look in your closet of life? I'd love to hear all about it. |
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