Meaningful lives are enabled by a clear purpose, but for decades I had not fully appreciated my purpose.
Meaningful lives are enabled by a clear purpose, but for decades I had not fully appreciated my purpose.
or nearly two decades, I was convinced I would die before my 50th birthday. I was not sick, nor had I learned from a carnival prophet that my life was soon ending; rather, the women in my family die young and I had no faith I would be different.
I spent quite a bit of the years leading up to my 50th preparing for my ultimate demise. I didn’t know how death would greet me, but I was certain it would come, and I acted accordingly. I took the time to write instructions regarding my retirement, life insurance, mortgage, etc. I always made sure there was a second person at work keenly aware of the status and other details of my assignments and projects. I consistently organized, labeled, and/or discarded items in closets, the garage, etc. I selected the music for my funeral and made sure my dear friends knew of my wishes.
People told me I was illogical, morbid, and even insane, and judged me accordingly. I worry that writing this piece today will simply ignite the same opinion. I appreciate that death makes people uncomfortable, but I had accepted my fate. And, because I don’t like ambiguity, I reduced doubt and confusion about what should happen after I died.
COVID made its appearance that month, and shortly after my birthday, Alaska felt the blow. Businesses shut down and, subsequently, The STRIVE Group’s projects were put on hold; some were cancelled altogether. Some of our staff began working from home and some were furloughed. People retreated into safe bubbles, which drastically decreased or ended social interactions and engagements.
Ambiguity surrounded us, and nearly everyone I cared about was fearful, hurting, sick, etc. I realized quickly that there was no room for apathy in my life; gumption, love, and hope needed to move in. COVID massively disrupted everything around the globe, but for me, COVID shattered a burden I had willfully carried for decades; I was not meant to die before my 50th and damn it, I better start living.
How ironic that a virus that fatally attacks our lungs breathed life into me.
- Was I sincerely or begrudgingly present in that role, and why?
- Was I giving or taking?
- Was I meant to direct or correct?
- Should I make, add to, or simply execute decisions?
- Was I expected to teach, coach, or motivate?
- Was someone reliant upon my expertise or inspiration?
- Was I capitalizing or stifling my talents and passions in the execution of that role?
It took some time and, honestly, it was difficult to be fully truthful, but I pressed on. I learned quite a bit about myself, and I am now able to move forward in those roles with better clarity and purpose.
About six or so months into my 50th year, I began to thoughtfully identify what success looked like. I pondered the answers to these types of questions:
- What does parenting success look like?
- What needs to be done to ensure my siblings think fondly of our relationship? What might make them proud to be my family?
- How might my friends describe an enjoyable and meaningful friendship?
- What would it take to make my neighbors be thankful for living next to me?
- What might be appreciated by my business partners, colleagues, clients, etc.?
If I didn’t know, or if I thought I was guessing at the ideal result, I asked. I asked my kids, my colleagues, my neighbors, and my friends. This was an enlightening exercise and helped me better identify the results I wanted. With this newfound knowledge, I could execute actions, activities, and behaviors that enabled success. Circling back, I hope I will not need a headstone anytime soon, but I would like to be proud of what is on it when the time comes.
- Am I rushing decision making?
- Am I asking questions to confirm my beliefs or to challenge my beliefs?
- Did I start the discussion with something like “I don’t know…tell me more” or “this is what I think”? Why?
- How likely am I to probe into or question the topic?
- Do I consider this exploration time wasted or time well spent? Why?
These days, I try to approach things with a beginner’s/learner’s mind. I force myself to listen for differing or diverse perspectives, I intentionally withhold judgment or criticism, and I ask a ton of questions with the intent to learn or clarify. This takes time and plenty of patience, but it matters.
I liken authenticity to tapestry. A tapestry begins with a framework of warp threads that are sturdy and consistent; humans are comparable to the warp threads in that we are all biologically similar. However, in a tapestry, the thousands of weft threads are different colors, textures, etc., and it is through the weft threads that the unique, intricate beauty of the tapestry is revealed. Each of us has a unique personality, with unique talents, expertise, and flaws. Likewise, we have inimitable values, needs, and desires. To be confidently authentic is to openly display and/or protect and defend our tapestry.
My circumstances changed dramatically when I found myself alive and well on my 50th birthday. The disruption that “living” created threw me and my authenticity for a loop. It wasn’t until I redefined my purpose and my desired results for my life that my core values were revealed. Subsequently, I could act and behave in alignment with those values. When I began to explore differing opinions and perspectives, contrary data, and information, etc., I uncovered hidden interests and passions, and revealed more of my unique strengths and vulnerabilities. It was only after I thoughtfully considered who I was and how I felt about being alive that I could fully comprehend what authenticity really meant.
Today, my tapestry is quite different, and I find it quite remarkable. Figuratively, it consists of both vibrant and muted colors, strong and weak fabrics alike, and a variety of textures, gnarls, and snags. I am proud to display it, and I will happily protect and defend it when needed.
As my 50th year turned the corner and my 51st was in sight, I embraced the concept of being in it for the long haul. Therefore, I needed to re-evaluate my investments and began to question my habitual activities and behaviors.
- Given my newfound purpose, where should my priorities lie?
- Given the long-term results I sought, what did I immediately need to change? (I asked this question about money, health, family, work, house, etc.)
- What relationships or connections previously deemed unnecessary or unworthy needed to be rebuilt or repaired? Moreover, how was I going to go about it?
- What did I need to learn and where would I begin?
Frankly, the change in my approach from tactical to strategic demanded I get off my butt physically, intellectually, and emotionally. I needed to invest wholeheartedly in my life; moreover, I needed to ensure these investments would enable long-term, not short-term, rewards.
- Are our lives better lived with clarity, purpose, and a focus on results?
- Are we more alive when we are curious, receptive, and authentic?
- Do we owe it to our family, friends, employees, and neighbors to invest in ourselves?