Second chances. Have you gotten one lately? We all secretly wish for them, don't we? And occasionally, they do arrive. But have you been busy preparing for your second chance in the interim? If not, you'll likely repeat your mistakes rather than overcome them. Be vigilant in your preparation because as you'll see from my experience, the years might pile up in between first.
Second chances in life can be few and far between. When you get one, it's a unique opportunity for a new choice or behavior - different than the first chance where the choices made turned out to be missteps. Meaningful second chance opportunities don't come around often. By meaningful, I mean those few important times in your life that you'd like to have back again - to act differently - to choose differently. Most often, we take the lessons learned from those original instances and apply them in other similar instances going forward but rarely, if ever, do we get a second chance at the exact instance. Lately, my own life has experienced a series of meaningful second chances that completely took me by surprise.
As I've mentioned before, I don't live in the past. I live quite contentedly in the present, totally at peace with my past missteps. Some of those missteps were pivotal in my personal development despite the pain caused or endured. Like many other people, I've bungled a few critical moments in life. Some lessons I've learned, others I'm still learning, and undoubtedly, there are some I'm probably destined to never learn. Such is life. We do the best we can. The key is to remain a willing pupil throughout.
Strangely, the second chances I was presented with were several decades old. I accepted and resolved my particular missteps in those situations a long time ago. I had no desire for an exact second chance on either front. Getting an exact second chance is a scary test of if you've really learned anything. If you fail it, it's a case of 1 step forward and 2 steps back. Not fun. In my own case, two second chances arrived nearly simultaneously, and my initial reaction was to avoid taking either test. I quickly realized, however, that's a case of 1 step forward, 1 step back. Stuck, not going anywhere. I equated that with failure because actually taking the test offered a chance to progress. My advice is to embrace the second chance for better or worse.
The first of my second chances was my 30 year high school reunion, that I initially sought to avoid. I'm glad I didn't - 2 steps forward. The other second chance, an exact carbon copy, was professional and dealt with matters over a decade old. I'm confidently determined to make different choices because I faced my original failure and resolved it long ago, never expecting or desiring the second chance thrust upon me. But I'm increasingly thankful about getting it nonetheless. I suppose I'm about to find out if I've really learned anything.
My point today is that you never know when or in what form that second chance opportunity might occur in your life. The two personal instances I shared stacked several decades in between first. Probably a fortunate thing for me, because I'm fairly sure I'd fail the test if they had come sooner in my life. I didn't realize it explicitly until afterwards, but I've been preparing for those second chance tests for several years, applying and re-learning the lessons of ill-fated choices and behaviors through the 7 Cornerstone principles of Discipline, Faith, Determination, Perseverance, Sacrifice, Patience, and Loyalty. There is no secret formula for living - only useful guides for the grueling process of improving - so you can be better prepared for your second chances.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
Past, Present, Future
I revisited my past this weekend when I attended my 30 year high school reunion. If you read my last post, you know I was apprehensive about doing so, but it was something I felt compelled to do despite my misgivings. The compulsion I felt was similar to when I ran for political office. It was just something I needed to do for reasons I couldn't entirely explain even to myself.
I don't believe in examining the past unless it's simply to remind myself of a lesson already learned. I'm not interested in dwelling on consequences of mistaken choices or actions that can't be undone. It's pointless. I find it's better to take the emotion out of the equation, learn the lesson, and then try to apply it going forward. I try not to think about the future too much either. If you let your thoughts get too far ahead of yourself, you'll develop an unhealthy habit of worry.
The solution is to live in the present. Easier said than done, but very rewarding if you can pull it off with any consistency. I entered the reunion hall unsure of what to expect but was determined to embrace the experience for better or worse. No matter what, I wasn't going back to the past or who I was in high school. I was going to be fully engaged in the present and be who I had become. I gave zero thought to the future and what I might feel like if it went poorly. In I went, still not knowing why I needed to be there.
When it was all over, I still wasn't entirely sure what I had accomplished but I knew I had had fun and enjoyed myself from beginning to end. I never once went back to high school that night. Whatever irrational remnant of high school memory that had subconsciously haunted me, had been erased. I resolved something I still can't even identify. Interestingly, one of my old friends remarked to me "you are always exactly where you're supposed to be" while we discussed our own personal ups and downs. Though I had heard the phrase many times before, it took on greater clarity in that moment because I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I was in the present - enjoying every minute of it. In a million years, I would never have imagined a moment like that would ever occur at a high school reunion.
I don't believe in examining the past unless it's simply to remind myself of a lesson already learned. I'm not interested in dwelling on consequences of mistaken choices or actions that can't be undone. It's pointless. I find it's better to take the emotion out of the equation, learn the lesson, and then try to apply it going forward. I try not to think about the future too much either. If you let your thoughts get too far ahead of yourself, you'll develop an unhealthy habit of worry.
The solution is to live in the present. Easier said than done, but very rewarding if you can pull it off with any consistency. I entered the reunion hall unsure of what to expect but was determined to embrace the experience for better or worse. No matter what, I wasn't going back to the past or who I was in high school. I was going to be fully engaged in the present and be who I had become. I gave zero thought to the future and what I might feel like if it went poorly. In I went, still not knowing why I needed to be there.
When it was all over, I still wasn't entirely sure what I had accomplished but I knew I had had fun and enjoyed myself from beginning to end. I never once went back to high school that night. Whatever irrational remnant of high school memory that had subconsciously haunted me, had been erased. I resolved something I still can't even identify. Interestingly, one of my old friends remarked to me "you are always exactly where you're supposed to be" while we discussed our own personal ups and downs. Though I had heard the phrase many times before, it took on greater clarity in that moment because I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I was in the present - enjoying every minute of it. In a million years, I would never have imagined a moment like that would ever occur at a high school reunion.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
30 Years On: Reunion & Relationships
I have done the unimaginable. I purchased a ticket to my 30 year high school reunion. The only plausible explanation for that is I'm now a pod, as in the movie, Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
What gives? I managed to avoid all the previous gatherings without so much as a second thought. I don't particularly have fond memories of high school or any affinity for the vast majority of my classmates. When graduation arrived, I never once looked back, choosing to keep in touch with only 1 true friend. And yet, I've made a non-refundable hotel reservation.
As a result, I've been examining my motivation to attend in light of my past tendency to avoid. I think it has something to do with relationships, an area in which I've always struggled. Relationships are critical to the quality of a life. Strong, healthy ones enrich your own experience. They broaden your perspectives, magnify your achievements, and soften your disappointments. They are symbiotic, providing as much as taking. They are our tether to this world and that which makes life worthwhile.
During high school, I was shy and introverted. I had difficulty being outgoing enough to forge strong relationships. I wasn't unhappy - just afraid, I think. Plus, building relationships simply wasn't important to me. The foundation for all of that certainly was rooted in irrational fear - of rejection, of awkwardness, of ridicule. I wasn't taking enough chances and that pattern didn't change much over subsequent years until relatively recently when I had an epiphany. Relationships matter.
That was a tough revelation for me. Once it clicked, I realized how few meaningful relationships I had formed. It became important to me to rectify that. Oddly enough, I've been with my wife, Ann for nearly 28 years so I had an excellent relationship building model to refer to.
I made a conscious decision to find ways to push beyond the comfort zone I had created. I accidently became a community activist (read that long tale on The Rotterdam Windmill), ran for political office, and became a Realtor in my spare time. All of these activities forced me to actively engage people. It was scary but through it all, I solidified one of my personal mantras. "I'm not worried by what others think of me." Essentially, I learned to like myself. Sounds corny, I know, but I know who I am now and I'm comfortable with it. Of course, I managed to form some valuable, lasting relationships along the way.
Today, I still have fewer strong bonds than I'd prefer but I'm constantly reminding myself to take the risks necessary to build new relationships (or renew forgotten ones) and strengthen the already existing ones. I try to embrace the sometimes uncomfortable opportunities to do that now rather than run from them...which is why I think I have a ticket and hotel reservation.
What gives? I managed to avoid all the previous gatherings without so much as a second thought. I don't particularly have fond memories of high school or any affinity for the vast majority of my classmates. When graduation arrived, I never once looked back, choosing to keep in touch with only 1 true friend. And yet, I've made a non-refundable hotel reservation.
As a result, I've been examining my motivation to attend in light of my past tendency to avoid. I think it has something to do with relationships, an area in which I've always struggled. Relationships are critical to the quality of a life. Strong, healthy ones enrich your own experience. They broaden your perspectives, magnify your achievements, and soften your disappointments. They are symbiotic, providing as much as taking. They are our tether to this world and that which makes life worthwhile.
During high school, I was shy and introverted. I had difficulty being outgoing enough to forge strong relationships. I wasn't unhappy - just afraid, I think. Plus, building relationships simply wasn't important to me. The foundation for all of that certainly was rooted in irrational fear - of rejection, of awkwardness, of ridicule. I wasn't taking enough chances and that pattern didn't change much over subsequent years until relatively recently when I had an epiphany. Relationships matter.
That was a tough revelation for me. Once it clicked, I realized how few meaningful relationships I had formed. It became important to me to rectify that. Oddly enough, I've been with my wife, Ann for nearly 28 years so I had an excellent relationship building model to refer to.
I made a conscious decision to find ways to push beyond the comfort zone I had created. I accidently became a community activist (read that long tale on The Rotterdam Windmill), ran for political office, and became a Realtor in my spare time. All of these activities forced me to actively engage people. It was scary but through it all, I solidified one of my personal mantras. "I'm not worried by what others think of me." Essentially, I learned to like myself. Sounds corny, I know, but I know who I am now and I'm comfortable with it. Of course, I managed to form some valuable, lasting relationships along the way.
Today, I still have fewer strong bonds than I'd prefer but I'm constantly reminding myself to take the risks necessary to build new relationships (or renew forgotten ones) and strengthen the already existing ones. I try to embrace the sometimes uncomfortable opportunities to do that now rather than run from them...which is why I think I have a ticket and hotel reservation.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Death As Part of Life
There’s no getting around it. You live. Eventually, you die. Dwelling on the reality of your own eventual death is not something I recommend, but putting that reality into perspective is essential to living your life more fully. Many people understandably seek to avoid thinking about their own mortality. The prospect of death upsets people. I get that. But I am of the mind that acknowledging and confronting your own mortality, and death in general, is healthy.
Our time here is finite. If you can conquer your fear of death, the time you have, no matter how long or short, becomes that much more meaningful and precious. Achieving happiness today becomes easier. What’s truly important takes on greater clarity. Too often, I think, we don’t realize these truths until death robs us of the opportunity altogether or we are in our waning years. I won’t pretend to tell you how to put death in perspective. I understand it’s different for each of us. For me, Faith (one of my cornerstones) is a critical tool, but not the only one. Death is scary. Death can be cruel. Death is a part of life.
I think death is harder to deal with when it’s not your own. The impact from a loved one’s death can be traumatic and devastating. I know the sorrow of losing both my parents. I know the sorrow of losing friends. Every death leaves its own unique hole in your life. These holes can’t be filled in. They’re permanent. But I have found that if you look deep enough into the sadness, you can find joy too. It’s a paradox I can’t explain but if you’ve known death in your life, you may know what I’m talking about. The death of others around us may be the hardest part of life, and the underlying cause of the desire to avoid thinking about our own mortality. Personally, I forced myself early to deal with death head-on to ensure the grief didn’t consume me. It was among the best actions I’ve ever taken.
The late Steve Jobs, before he got sick, had this to say about death,
That’s insightful, I think. It’s an attitude worth assimilating into our lives, if possible. Live life. Live it fully.
I apologize if this post seems unfocused or rambling but I’m prompted to explore this topic today as much to remind myself of the fragility of life, and to motivate myself and you to appreciate every moment of it completely, as to search for that joy hidden somewhere in the sadness. Tragically, the unique and painful hole of losing a child was imposed on the life of a friend of mine yesterday. As a consequence, my paradigm of coping with death is being tested fiercely.
Our time here is finite. If you can conquer your fear of death, the time you have, no matter how long or short, becomes that much more meaningful and precious. Achieving happiness today becomes easier. What’s truly important takes on greater clarity. Too often, I think, we don’t realize these truths until death robs us of the opportunity altogether or we are in our waning years. I won’t pretend to tell you how to put death in perspective. I understand it’s different for each of us. For me, Faith (one of my cornerstones) is a critical tool, but not the only one. Death is scary. Death can be cruel. Death is a part of life.
I think death is harder to deal with when it’s not your own. The impact from a loved one’s death can be traumatic and devastating. I know the sorrow of losing both my parents. I know the sorrow of losing friends. Every death leaves its own unique hole in your life. These holes can’t be filled in. They’re permanent. But I have found that if you look deep enough into the sadness, you can find joy too. It’s a paradox I can’t explain but if you’ve known death in your life, you may know what I’m talking about. The death of others around us may be the hardest part of life, and the underlying cause of the desire to avoid thinking about our own mortality. Personally, I forced myself early to deal with death head-on to ensure the grief didn’t consume me. It was among the best actions I’ve ever taken.
The late Steve Jobs, before he got sick, had this to say about death,
"Death is very likely the single best invention of life. It is life’s change agent. The benefit of death is you know not to waste life living someone else’s choices."
That’s insightful, I think. It’s an attitude worth assimilating into our lives, if possible. Live life. Live it fully.
I apologize if this post seems unfocused or rambling but I’m prompted to explore this topic today as much to remind myself of the fragility of life, and to motivate myself and you to appreciate every moment of it completely, as to search for that joy hidden somewhere in the sadness. Tragically, the unique and painful hole of losing a child was imposed on the life of a friend of mine yesterday. As a consequence, my paradigm of coping with death is being tested fiercely.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
There Is Always Hope
Hope. I’m a big believer in hope. Sometimes it’s the only thing that gets you through to the next day. When you’re at the end of the rope and there appears to be no help, no answers, and no way forward…there is always hope…and sometimes only hope.
Hope won’t solve any of your problems or provide immediate relief from what ails you, but it can be the bridge to keep you off the bridge. Hope will occasionally fail you. Be prepared for that. Hope will come up empty sometimes and when that happens, you’ll start to question everything. Ironic, but it’s also hope that will get you through those times.
Often times, it’s you who can provide some hope to others. Today is one of those opportunities.
Each year for the past several years, my family and I participate as a team in the American Cancer Society’s Making Strides Against Breast Cancer Walk in Albany, NY. It’s an important event, but not solely in terms of fundraising. It’s an event that also provides hope. Hope for a cure. Hope for survival. Hope for strength. Hope for necessary care, both for prevention or treatment. And on and on. When it comes to cancer, sometimes hope is all you have. I’ve relied on it more than once. I’m saddened to say it has failed me on occasion. I go on hoping anyway.
Today, I’m humbly asking you to consider making a donation in order to provide hope to those that might be experiencing difficulty mustering some at the moment. You can do so easily by clicking the secure link at the end of this post. I hope you’ll support me if you can.
http://main.acsevents.org/goto/michaeloconnor
Hope won’t solve any of your problems or provide immediate relief from what ails you, but it can be the bridge to keep you off the bridge. Hope will occasionally fail you. Be prepared for that. Hope will come up empty sometimes and when that happens, you’ll start to question everything. Ironic, but it’s also hope that will get you through those times.
Often times, it’s you who can provide some hope to others. Today is one of those opportunities.
Each year for the past several years, my family and I participate as a team in the American Cancer Society’s Making Strides Against Breast Cancer Walk in Albany, NY. It’s an important event, but not solely in terms of fundraising. It’s an event that also provides hope. Hope for a cure. Hope for survival. Hope for strength. Hope for necessary care, both for prevention or treatment. And on and on. When it comes to cancer, sometimes hope is all you have. I’ve relied on it more than once. I’m saddened to say it has failed me on occasion. I go on hoping anyway.
Today, I’m humbly asking you to consider making a donation in order to provide hope to those that might be experiencing difficulty mustering some at the moment. You can do so easily by clicking the secure link at the end of this post. I hope you’ll support me if you can.
http://main.acsevents.org/goto/michaeloconnor
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
The Grinder, Part II : Phoenix Rising
"It's not about you." That's the opening line from Rick Warren's best-selling book, The Purpose Driven Life. I stumbled across that book after my Grinder experience. I think that opening line is a great life guide for managing an ego.
At any rate, my "adjustment" didn't happen immediately or all at once. I daresay, some would say it hasn't happened at all. It's certainly far from complete. And it's those times that are the most gut-wrenching and most instructional. When my "old self" makes an appearance, it's ugly. I don't like it. The dilemma for me, I think, has been separating the wheat from the chaff. Many of the traits that have helped me succeed in life are the same ones that have held me back. For me, it's been a matter of appropriate application of some of these traits. I'm still learning. But I also know I'm making progress so I keep going, trying to learn and grow from each experience.
So what's the secret? There isn't one. If there was, it would've been dispensed by someone long ago. There's life. Sometimes it's hard, real hard. Like everyone else, I'd like to find my true purpose, feel more fulfilled, feel more inspired, feel more content, impact others more positively. My strategy involved prefacing each of those objectives with the phrase, "what choices can I make today to..."
Life is about decision-making and making choices. You won't always choose "correctly." That's okay. Unfortunately, too many of us think if we choose poorly, that's it, we're stuck. Not so. It's just time to choose again. If you're seeking an objective, you've got to be willing to keep being a decison-maker. Keep making choices until you accomplish your objective. You can't afford to sit back and just let life happen. You've got to actively participate.
At any rate, my "adjustment" didn't happen immediately or all at once. I daresay, some would say it hasn't happened at all. It's certainly far from complete. And it's those times that are the most gut-wrenching and most instructional. When my "old self" makes an appearance, it's ugly. I don't like it. The dilemma for me, I think, has been separating the wheat from the chaff. Many of the traits that have helped me succeed in life are the same ones that have held me back. For me, it's been a matter of appropriate application of some of these traits. I'm still learning. But I also know I'm making progress so I keep going, trying to learn and grow from each experience.
So what's the secret? There isn't one. If there was, it would've been dispensed by someone long ago. There's life. Sometimes it's hard, real hard. Like everyone else, I'd like to find my true purpose, feel more fulfilled, feel more inspired, feel more content, impact others more positively. My strategy involved prefacing each of those objectives with the phrase, "what choices can I make today to..."
Life is about decision-making and making choices. You won't always choose "correctly." That's okay. Unfortunately, too many of us think if we choose poorly, that's it, we're stuck. Not so. It's just time to choose again. If you're seeking an objective, you've got to be willing to keep being a decison-maker. Keep making choices until you accomplish your objective. You can't afford to sit back and just let life happen. You've got to actively participate.
Monday, September 17, 2012
The Grinder, Part I : Fall from Grace
Have you ever been through the grinder? I have. It's not fun.
I'm talking about that humiliating kick in the crotch. You're young, you're invincible, you've got the world by the b*lls. And then it happens. The Humbling. Life as you know it derails and your ego gets crushed. Grinder time. It's time for complete reevaluation, like it or not.
When it happened to me, my life (and mainly my behaviors) got redefined. That was good for the rest of the world, bad for me in the moment. I had an extremely difficult time accepting my new set of circumstances. After all, I was king. But it became abundantly clear that I wasn't. I was just a self-deluded cog. Ouch. It was a defining moment in my life. Ego is a terrific tool for success but it's simultaneously as dangerous if you don't have it in proper perspective. I didn't.
My point is, there's reality, and then there's our perception of that reality. Grinder Time is the mechanism that reconciles the inconsistencies between the two. Of course, the degree of that variance will vary from person to person and so will the corresponding "adjustment." But don't kid yourself, it comes to us all eventually. It almost always involves your ego.
I'm talking about that humiliating kick in the crotch. You're young, you're invincible, you've got the world by the b*lls. And then it happens. The Humbling. Life as you know it derails and your ego gets crushed. Grinder time. It's time for complete reevaluation, like it or not.
When it happened to me, my life (and mainly my behaviors) got redefined. That was good for the rest of the world, bad for me in the moment. I had an extremely difficult time accepting my new set of circumstances. After all, I was king. But it became abundantly clear that I wasn't. I was just a self-deluded cog. Ouch. It was a defining moment in my life. Ego is a terrific tool for success but it's simultaneously as dangerous if you don't have it in proper perspective. I didn't.
My point is, there's reality, and then there's our perception of that reality. Grinder Time is the mechanism that reconciles the inconsistencies between the two. Of course, the degree of that variance will vary from person to person and so will the corresponding "adjustment." But don't kid yourself, it comes to us all eventually. It almost always involves your ego.
(to be continued tomorrow...)
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