I’ve always told myself that I would rather die instantaneously in a head-on collision with a Mack truck than deteriorate slowly and painfully by an illness like cancer (as my father did). Then why did I spend most of my life (until 2008) in sap-sucking j.o.b.s. in Corporate America? Did I know better? Perhaps. Did I still blindly stumble around in a chamber of gaseous mediocrity? Absolutely. Honestly, the “why?” doesn’t really matter at all. What matters is that I finally stopped the insanity.
Now I could spend thousands of dollars for a great shrink who could shed some light on my childhood wounds, issues, problems, barriers, blockages, ego development, rejection, or other “baggage” from my past. I could also blame my father who died a relatively young man at the age of 67 from esophageal cancer, one of the worst ways to go. What really killed him were years of resignation, cynicism and playing small as a Department of Energy bureaucrat. Every day, he awoke at 5:15 am, left the house by 7:00 via his carpool, headed to downtown Washington D.C, returned by 6:15 pm, ate supper, watched a few hours of TV sitcoms, and then went to bed by 9 pm. He did this every weekday for over 20 years. Government Ground Hog Day. Granted, he did obtain a senior DOE muckety-muck designation, did provide his family with more than we needed (thank you Dad!), and did stay married to my mother for over 30 years (a feat unto itself).
Earlier in his life, he co-founded an aeronautical engineering start-up, invented a satellite antenna, and was a freelance photographer (“took pictures of naked women,” as my mother puts it). If he were alive today, he would tell you that his familial sacrifices were well worth it. Yet, I have to believe that he would have been happier, if less financially secure, had he remained an entrepreneur and enjoyed more of his favorite hobbies. Instead, he allowed his passions to be sucked Sahara-dry in order to fulfill his commitments to others. While I’m extremely grateful to him for my being on this planet and for all that he shared, I would have traded middle-class America for penny-pinching Top Ramen-hood any day, if it meant that he could have fulfilled his own dreams. For his many years of steady-eddy government service, my father never got a gold watch, plaque, or even a visit from one of his colleagues as he lay dying in the hospital. Not one of them came to his funeral.
You would think that, after my father’s death, I would have learned to live in unlimited passions and possibilities, yes? Not! Instead, I numbly retraced my father’s footsteps, albeit in a different industry (financial services). For nearly 15 years, I leaped from one corporate hamster wheel to another, reaching for juicier tidbits each time: a bigger paycheck here, a fancier title there. Throughout, I knew darn well that I wasn’t making a real contribution to the world, let alone leaving a legacy, and I was feigning passion like a rotten actress.
Fast forward to 2008: I was blessed by a well-needed and expected severance from a cushy, comfortable job at Washington Mutual, as it belly flopped into bankruptcy: my jailbreak from cubicle nation into entrepreneurship as a business coach and founder of this Passions and Possibilities Project. Now, with integrity and an authentic voice, I can honestly say that I’m having a blast and making a real difference in the lives of others, as they unleash their own passions! The facade of pretending to love the mundane has vanished, and there’s a resurgence of vibrancy and enthusiasm that laid dormant for way too long.
So, what did I glean from my father’s life and his death? Far more than one blog can hold, AND below are three points to consider on your own journey:
1) Don’t settle for dispassion – it’s poison in your veins. Even rats get used to rat poison, if it seeps into their bloodstream slowly enough. You’re meant to shine in this world, to sing, to dance, and to rejoice every day. If you’re not, look around. Either you’re choosing the life that you want to live, or others are choosing it for you. It’s really that simple.
2) The acorn can fall far from the tree, if it sprouts wings. You don’t have to be bound and shackled by the stories of your parents, grandparents, family trees, or other genealogy crap. If you don’t like the stories that have come before, rewrite your story going forward. You’re the author of your life.
3) There is absolutely nothing worth sacrificing your own bliss for. Period. So please stop pretending to love what you don’t. Quit rationalizing a mediocre life that doesn’t honor who you really are. The resentment will build and build until….pop!
So get very clear and very real about what you love NOW, before it’s too late.
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Happy Passioneering!
Perseverance is not about struggling, fighting, or forcing something to happen. It IS about putting more air into your tires so that when your rubber meets the inevitable rocky roads, you keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’. You CAN appreciate the ride, even if you’re holding on for dear life!
