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What do you do when the new wears off? You know how you’re excited about creating your new world until you go out & discover that not everyone is as excited as you are? How do you handle that gradual erosion of enthusiasm?
My new column in the February issue of Benefits Selling is online today. If you’re in the benefits business, be sure to subscribe here. It’s FREE, and is a tremendous resource for an industry in an interesting state right now.
If you’re NOT in the benefits biz, my column is inspirational, so I know you’ll get some encouragement from it.
Hope you enjoy!
AYT,
Brian
A belated Happy New Year PLU Nation! Hope it’s already off to an astounding start.
It’s almost time! The Tinderbox Tapes is almost ready to leave the nest. We’ll see if has wings in just a couple of weeks. Exciting times in the Hicks household, to be sure.
Just wanted to share a couple of notes:
1. To accompany the book release, I’ll be doing a series of posts about my personal journey to publication. After 20 years in the same business, and gaining a certain confidence there, this has proven to be a greater departure than I expected. I quickly learned that “I didn’t know what I didn’t know,” and it’s made for quite the adventure. As you read about my mine & Tina’s challenges, setbacks and small victories, I hope you’ll find ideas and inspiration. For those interested in pursuing your own publication journey, I’ll even include links to those individuals & sites who helped point me in the right direction.
If you haven’t already, please subscribe to the blog today. You’ll get these updates delivered straight to your inbox. They will also be listed here under The Journey to Publication category here on the blog.
2. You might be interested in my monthly column in the January issue of Benefits Selling Magazine. It’s a benefits industry publication, but my column is an inspirational piece, so you don’t have to be in the benefits biz to get it. If you like it, be sure to click the share button & pass it on. Thanks! And if you don’t subscribe to the paper version, you should… it’s FREE!
3. If you voted in our cover contest, THANK YOU! We had a TON of responses via Facebook, Twitter & email. You might recall the decision was “Border vs No Border” on a white cover.
The voting was split almost down the middle, with plenty of compelling arguments supporting each viewpoint.
With such a close race, and arguments on both sides that a LOT of sense, what did I do? Well, you’ve already seen it… I pulled a Monty Python and went with something completely different.
So, for those who said the border made it stand out better, perhaps the blue does the trick. For those who said the border looked too stuffy, like a textbook… LOOK MA! NO BORDER!
Ah, the sweet redolence of compromise…
I’m very happy with the finished product, as it conveys the simplicity of other books in the “inspirational/self-help/personal growth” genre, but is still unique enough to stand on its own.
Thanks again to all who voted. Can’t wait for you to see what’s INside it.
Looking forward to an astounding 2012!
AYT,
Brian
Dear Lord, the battles we go through in life,
We ask for a chance that’s fair;
A chance to equal our stride,
A chance to do or dare.
If we should win, let it be by the code,
Faith and Honor held high.
If we should lose, we’ll stand by the road,
And cheer as the winners go by.
Day by Day, we get better and better!
Til’ we can’t be beat…
WON’T BE BEAT!
- THE HUSKER PRAYER – University of Nebraska Football
Happy Tuesday, PLU Nation!
Here’s your warning: This is BY FAR my longest post EVer, but I hope you’ll indulge me a moment of personal privilege just this once. I promise there’s a payoff.
You know my penchant for mining a motivational message from just about anything, and today is no different. In fact, today was a slam dunk consideration. If you’re not a football fan (bless your heart), stay with me. I promise there’s more to this story. Today’s quotation is in honor of my son’s head football coach, Coach Dale, who is a Nebraska man.
You know that our hero here is Thomas Edison because he gave us the secret to success when he famously said, “DON’T TOUCH THAT! YOU’LL ELECTROCUTE YOURSELF!”
Or maybe it was, “If we all did the things we’re capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves.”
The kids pictured above astounded themselves Saturday morning. The one in the center, #24, is mine.
If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you know that my middle son’s Franklin Cowboys “B-Cardinal” football team (he’s 10 years old) played for the Tennessee Youth Football Alliance Championship this weekend.
Our opponent was The Blaze from Brentwood - another suburb of Nashville and our neighbors to the north. They’re a bit of a rival for us, in part because of our next-door neighbor relationship. Frankly, I refer to it as the speed bump between our lovely farms in Franklin and the lights of Music City (but that’s because I’m bitter).
If you’ve never been to a youth football championship game, let me tell you, it’s a big stinkin’ deal. It has all the trappings of a mini SEC Championship game. The local Cadillac dealer sponsors “Victory Lane,” where the teams go for post game award ceremonies and pictures, so there are Escalades galore. There are game DVDs for sale. You can hire a photographer to take “action shots” of your child – JUST your child – and have a poster made from said photos. I’m thinking of getting a Fathead of my boy, for my boy. The Air Force ROTC kids present the colors during The National Anthem, and the players are introduced individually for their big entrance onto the field, running through the alley created by the cheerleaders with music blasting from the press box speakers. All that’s missing is a smoke machine, a Jay-Z Intro, Justin Timberlake and a wardrobe malfunction. Being as how we live in Nashville, you’d think Carrie Underwood could stop by to kick things off with the Anthem, but maybe it’s just me.
I was especially excited when I heard GameDay was going to be at The Farm for the Cardinal game. I wondered if the boys would meet Herbstreit. Would Corso don a giant cowboy hat when he picked us to win? Maybe Erin Andrews would interview a “random dad.” I was pretty excited about that prospect, and even practiced my Heisman pose in case I bumped into Desmond Howard, but didn’t say anything to the other parents because I wanted to play it cool; like I’d been here before.
Kickoff was scheduled for 8:30am.
It was the culmination of roughly 16 weeks of practice and a near-perfect season, in which the only blemish was a 21-14 loss to a team on whom we had exacted our revenge in the 2nd round of the playoffs to get ourselves to this point.
We came into the game having already defeated our opponent 20-6 in Game 2 of the regular season; their only loss. Since that meeting, however, we had each established ourselves as favorites to go all the way. They had scored 163 points in the regular season, while allowing only 64. Our Cardinal Cowboys had racked up 223 points while only giving up 68, and our last four starts (including the first 2 rounds of the playoffs) had been shutouts.
Both with one loss. Both strong defenses & potent offenses. We were ranked #1; they were #2. Basically, this was the 10-year-old version of last week’s Alabama/LSU showdown.
When the day arrived, we were pumped. My youngest son (also a Cowboys player, whose team had a “character-building” season) helped me create a Pump Up playlist for his older brother’s iPod and we listened to it on the way to the field. We took it all in, arriving at 6:30am for a tailgate party with the rest of the team. That’s 6:30 IN THE MORNING. SATURDAY morning. After enjoying a tremendous breakfast spread in the parking lot, we moved down to the field for pregame warm-ups. While the team stretched and the cheerleaders made last minute preparations, we snapped pictures and shot video.
Then the work began.
From the opening kickoff, it was apparent both teams came to play defense. At halftime, our beloved Cowboys were down 6-2. We knew if we could score just once in the 2nd half, we’d win. It was that kind of game. I’m telling you… LSU/Alabama.
At one point, we looked as if we had finally found the right combination to break their defense, and mounted a solid, sustained drive down the field. But a suspect penalty (yes, I’m a biased dad) stalled the drive. In a game where 10 yards was nearly impossible to make, 25 yards might as well have been a thousand. Despite plenty of heroics, and a last ditch effort in the waning seconds, the Cardinal were not meant to take home the “champions” trophy Saturday. At the final buzzer, the halftime score stood: Bad Guys – 6, Good Guys – 2.
Regardless, those kids left it all on the field. They played as hard as they’ve played all year. It was tough. The opponent was relentless; every play was critical, and every player at every position was important. Despite a heartbreaking loss, we came away satisfied.
“But you lost,” you say. “You had to settle for the runner-up trophy. How could you be satisfied?”
Thanks for hanging in there because here’s the lesson for you & me…
In pursuit of our new world, do we, like those 9-10 year old boys, leave it all on the field? Those kids realized early in the contest that it wasn’t going to be easy. We weren’t going to score 20 points on them again this time. It was going to be a slugfest, where every inch, in the Any Given Sunday/Al Pacino sense of the word, would be a test.
You bolt into the process of creating your new world with enthusiasm, a rush like you haven’t felt in years. You quit your job to follow your dream or you prepare to make your first sales call or you sit down to write the book or you set up the perfect weekend getaway or whatever you do to restore that relationship or pursue that purpose. The excitement grows as you make the plans & imagine the outcome & generally get pumped up.
Then you show up…and the real work begins.
It’s tougher than you thought. Things don’t go the way you planned; the way you hoped. The prospect says no (and they’re kinda ugly about it). He or she isn’t very impressed with your effort (or maybe they appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t erase the hurt). And people generally aren’t as excited about your hopes & dreams as you are.
How do you react? Take a queue from those 9 & 10 year old boys, and dig deeper.
In youth football, there’s a very common phenomenon where at some point in the game, the kids who are losing give up. It’s simple, really: After trying & trying & trying unsuccessfully to execute an offensive play or stop the opposing team when they have the ball, the kids get frustrated and give up. It’s amazing. You can see the kids shut down. They simply quit. It may be as early as the 2nd quarter or as late as the 4th quarter, but if they’re unable to execute, they simply quit. (And yes. You could argue it’s not unique to youth football.)
When faced with the choice to step up or give up, those teams choose the latter.
I’m proud to say our Cardinal squad never gave up. They had some tough games – Saturday chief among them – and they never gave up. They kept fighting for those inches, knowing what happens when you add up all those inches.
So it is in life. We show up. For some reason we think that’s the easy part, despite the fact that we’ve had to take a risk & put ourselves out there. And for some reason, we expect it to be smooth sailing. Heck, we’ve prayed about it & planned for it and have a lot of enthusiasm for it, so naturally it’ll be easy, right? But when the showing up inevitably gets tough, how soon do we give up?
Because whether it’s the purpose you’re passionately pursuing or that relationship you long to restore, it ain’t easy. It’s a slugfest. Every day. And EVERY DAY we have to choose between convenient & capable. Remember, the question isn’t “Is it easy?” It’s “Am I capable?”
The lesson I took from my child’s 9 & 10-year-old teammates is that when we choose capable, and leave it all on the field – even when the result is other than what we initially imagined – we can walk away satisfied, with no regrets. And we can hold our heads high, knowing that day by day we’re getting better and better until one day we can’t be – nay, WON’T BE – beat.
How about you?
Are you in the fight of your life? Are you leaving it all on the field, or are you on the verge of giving up? If a 9 or 10-year-old can astound himself on a football field, what more can you do?
By the way, turns out that GameDay was at The Farm in Palo Alto Saturday. I heard the other Cardinal had a tough Saturday, too. Maybe we’ll invite them to The Other Farm in the off season for a defense skills camp.
HUGE thanks to Coaches Dale, Willow, Bonds, Vinson, Bulldog and Case for an outstanding year. You guys are among the finest leadership teams I’ve witnessed. I’ve often used you as examples when speaking for organizations about leadership. You’re truly the best. We can’t thank you enough for all you did to develop Evans’ football skills and continue his love of the game. The Hicks household was at a bit of a loss last night without a practice on the calendar. He came home from school yesterday and immediately said, “I already miss not having practice.”
Me, too, Bud. Me, too.
AYT,
Brian
“There is only one thing that it requires real courage to say, and that is a truism.”
— G.K. Chesterton (1874-1936), English Writer
I’ve never been a fan of affirmations as a means for helping you change your life’s direction, mainly because they remind me too much of today’s clip. Something just doesn’t ring true about them. If you’re a card-carrying member of The PLU Nation, you agree with me. It’s part of what makes you a PLU.
If you’re not familiar with the affirmation concept, the process is simple. You talk to yourself daily about the kind of person you want to be, even though you’re not there yet. After saying it enough, the theory goes, you’ll start to become that kind of person. For example, if you’re always late and wish to change that, you start each day by looking into the mirror and saying things like, “I’m on time. I’m a punctual person. I always arrive 15 minutes early. My calendar is well-organized so I can better manage my time.” You know, stuff like that. (Procrastinators have used the same types of affirmations for years…or at least they’ve been meaning to.)
My issue with those kinds of things is that they just seem hollow. Trust me, I understand what they’re about. It just doesn’t work for me.
Once upon a time, I heard someone talking about affirmations with respect to motivating yourself to create your new world, and he said this:
“‘I’m 40.’ Start with that. And if that doesn’t work, try this. ‘I’m 40 and I’m broke.’ Affirm that. And if that doesn’t work, try this. ‘I’m 40, I’m broke and I live in America.’ That’s all the affirmation you need.”
And that’s where our friend Mr. Chesterton enters the picture. It honestly doesn’t take much courage to do that first set of affirmations, does it? See, we’re not saying anything overtly about our current state. It’s all about the ideal us. It’s all very touchy-feely, isn’t it?
The second set of affirmations takes courage… in spades! Why? Because it forces us to confront the reality of where we are versus where we wish to be. Dang, that’s harsh. But it can also yank us off the couch, make us snap out of it.
I hope you’ll astound yourself today by taking a couple of seconds to affirm the truth about where you are versus where you want to be.
And to show my support, please let me share my affirmation:
I have a January publication deadline for my first inspirational novel, The Tinderbox Tapes.
If I don’t start focusing TODAY on the necessary steps to complete that, it won’t happen.
And I can’t do all that, teach workshops, deliver keynotes and keep posting with much regularity.
Therefore, I’m taking a short break in order to make my deadline.
When I return, there will be a new series about the journey to publication as well as more on this idea of “affirming the truth” just in time for you to get a jump start on making 2012 the year you create your new world.
Thank you for being part of PLU Nation. Can’t wait to start the dialogue with you about the ideas in the book!
AYT,
Brian
“How great would life be if we lived a little of it everyday?”
- Anonymous
Long before advertisers were using it to sell orange juice and Warren Sapp was wearing his Tampa Bay Bucs slippers to the NFL Network studios in the morning, I was waking up my boys with my own take on this song. And I’m secure enough in my manhood to admit that I own the Singin’ in the Rain soundtrack – both CDs.
If I happen across it on television, I always watch it, though I’ve never been able to get the kids to join me. For some reason, the Disney Channel or the PS3 are somehow more intriguing to boys ages 14, 10 and 8.
Nonetheless, my wife and I still prefer watching anything on Turner Classic Movies to most of the offerings in theaters today. We’ve always been that way. Even in high school, many of our date nights were spent watching Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn on AMC. Of course, that was before AMC decided Top Gun was a “classic” old movie.
Ahem… That was 1986. I was in high school, for crying out loud. That’s not old; it’s only, like, twenty fi-
Shut up.
The point is that we’ve tried to pass along our love of those classics to our boys. It’s quality entertainment. It’s classic Americana. And they’ll one day perhaps win a Trivial Pursuit tournament or something. We’re especially proud that they can identify Frank Sinatra and Michael Buble’ in less than 3 notes. (By the way, buy Buble’s Christmas Album RIGHT NOW. You’ll be glad you did.)
So when we had the opportunity to take in a matinee showing of “Singin’ in the Rain” at our town’s newly restored historic theater, we simply couldn’t pass it up. As much as we looked forward to the experience, though, we were in no way prepared for what happened.
Now, I must admit that we made these plans before I checked the football schedule and when I discovered we would be missing the Broncos/Raiders game, I was beginning to see how the boys always found other things to do while the old man was watching Gene Kelly tap dance with an umbrella.
Because the sun was shining and the temperature was in the low 70s, we drove the Jeep downtown and arrived at the theater about ten minutes before the scheduled start time. It was our first visit there since it’s $8 million renovation.
One of my favorite quotes is from an anonymous source: Life isn’t measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
And we lived inside that little historic theater Sunday afternoon.
As you might see when attending a play, “Brother Henry” opened the show by walking on stage & welcoming everyone, encouraging us to come back often. We even participated in a “show of hands” survey about how many attendees had actually sung or danced in the rain. Apparently, 1 in 10 people have been young enough, dumb enough, in love enough or all of the above enough to sing in the rain. Who knew I was a statistic.
Watching with an audience, not at home alone, was an incredible experience. The laughter, the applause after a dance number… halfway through Moses Supposes it dawned on me that we were enjoying a rare opportunity indeed. We were, in 2011, experiencing this award-winning film exactly the way it was originally experienced in 1952. The major difference was that in 1952, it wasn’t a particularly big hit. Today, of course, it’s legendary.
Hearing our boys laugh uproariously brought us more joy than we’ve experienced in months. Here they were, among the few audience members under 40 years old, completely lost in a near 60-year-old musical, creating memories via Gene Kelly & Princess Leia’s mom. But you’re right: Donald O’Connor stole the show.
As we in the PLU Nation know, when you’re creating a new world for yourself & your family, your stress level is often at heart-attack stage. It’s easy to spend all your time seeking business, securing contracts, delivering the goods, collecting payments; and when that stuff isn’t happening you’re stressing about the fact that it’s not happening!
It’s easy to fool ourselves into thinking matinees and Jeep rides are trivial; that there will be time for all of that when the contracts are secured & the bills are paid; when the book is finished & uploaded to Amazon; when the new job isn’t so new anymore. Then we can relax a little. Of course, every day we’re telling ourselves about those “when’s,” our children are growing up, getting closer to leaving home. We’re getting older, too. At what point does it become too late? At what point have we missed our opportunity?
When you’re creating a new world for yourself & your family, it’s easy to forget yourself & your family. It’s easy to forget that life is somewhere in the middle of the process and the outcome.
Today’s quote is an anonymous one, but it’s painted on a Rodney White reproduction in our home.
It’s a nice reminder, I think.
As you begin this week, with all its goals and deadlines, don’t forget to make time to live a little bit. Think of one thing – just one simple thing – you can do to live a little bit of life this week and you’ll astound yourself AND your family today.
I didn’t get the chance to tell Brother Henry, but we’ll be back, especially when they’re showing His Girl Friday.
So we missed the Broncos game, but I heard Tim Tebow had a pretty good day. Must have been something in the air; I had a pretty good day myself.
AYT,
Brian
Oh… And because I can’t write about it without giving you easy access to it…
“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”
- Albert Einstein (1879 – 1955)
If you’re a parent, you may find Einstein’s quote to be his greatest contribution; even bigger than that whole e=mc² thing. Then again, if you’re a child – especially a grown one – you might feel the same way.
So today I’m tackling two perspectives: the judge and the fish. You’ve likely done it to someone (as their leader, their parent, their spouse) or had it done to you (by your leaders, your parents, your spouse), or both. But the first step toward creating your new world is the discovery that if you’re a fish, you gotta stop trying to climb trees.
First, The Judges
Have you ever led or parented or been married to someone whom you tried to “help” become the person you thought they were supposed to be? Made sure they went to that school, got those grades, declared that major? Insisted they take the supervisor promotion, even when they said it might not be for them?
I know, I know… You were just doing what’s best for them – helping them grow. You were trying to save them from the pain and anguish of enduring something that might be difficult for them. You were trying to save them from pursuing some crazy, risky, scheme. You were trying to save them from certain failure and yet, they seemed to be failing anyway – floundering at the very least. Almost killed you both, didn’t it?
Because in the process of “helping,” you were forcing that fish to climb trees. When they weren’t any good at it, you yelled at them and told them to quit whining about not having hands. “Do you know there are kids in Africa who would weep in gratitude for a tree to climb. They just have to stare at the dirt all day, and can’t even dream about a tree because they have no frame of reference! They’ve never even seen one! Now you suck it up & go fin you’re way up that magnolia!”
What a moron. (No offense)
Here’s how you astound yourself today: Shut up!
Stephen King wrote a book for writers that is, well, astounding. In a section about passion for the craft, he talks about how his son began taking saxophone lessons (which I appreciate b/c I used to play), but he soon noticed the boy was only playing during his lessons. He didn’t take the horn out & play in between. He didn’t listen to music & try to learn the saxophone solos. He didn’t make up his own stuff. In other words, Stephen King’s fish was trying to climb a tree. Playing the saxophone just wasn’t in his bones. As such, he was never going to do more than the minimum expectations required by his teacher. Therefore, he would ultimately put down the horn & never pick it back up. So Mr. King had a choice: Call the kid lazy & useless for not getting better/not learning, or stop the lessons altogether – stop climbing that tree – and allow him to pursue other interests in the hope he would find some fish thing to do. King admits his first choice was the former (Just like you & I do), but he soon wised up and chose the latter, and I’m guessing his son is the better for it.
And Now, The Fishes
My wife and I have 3 boys. They’re 14, 10 and 8 years old. We’re a football family. My 2 younger ones spend 3 nights a week & Saturday in helmets & pads, and they’re in heaven. One is a little short and the other is a little skinny, but they have more heart than Rudy. And as it turns out, they’re coachable, which has turned them into pretty good little ballers.
My oldest is a different story. At 14, he’s closing in on 6 feet, weighs in somewhere close to 200 lbs and is wearing a size 12 shoe. I started wearing his hand-me-downs when he was 12. Talk about a football player.
Except that he’s not.
He has as much desire to play football as Congress does to read the bills they pass. Won’t even watch it on television with his old man (Who is not only devastated, but considers himself a complete failure over that. We live in SEC Country, for crying out loud).
But here’s the point: What if I had spent a couple of years forcing him to play football? He’s simply not athletic. How inept and inadequate would he feel, trying to jump out of his little pond and climb that tree? Instead, we discovered he’s a pretty good poet and likes to sing. As such, and because we live in Music City, he’d like to be in the music business one day, writing songs and making records (Yeah, I said “records.” Sounds better than “making downloads.”)
And while I have no idea if he’ll ever set foot in a studio (things change between 14 & 18, right?), and it would thrill me to no end if he would try out for the team just once, I do know that my job is to give him the freedom to find his own way; and not make him think he’s stupid by forcing him into something for which he’s ill-suited.
I don’t know when it happened to you, but somewhere along the way someone tried to make you climb a tree for which you were ill-suited. When it didn’t work out, you felt like an idiot because you couldn’t get it done. And you’ve been lugging that around ever since. In some cases, you didn’t pursue something because you erroneously believed you weren’t good enough.
So here’s how we’ll astound ourselves today…
Right here, right now – maybe for the first time in our lives – we’re going to say, OUT LOUD, “I’m good enough. I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.”
What?
Sometimes I can’t help myself.
Jim Collins, in his “instant classic” business book, Good to Great, says that good companies make sure everyone is one the bus, going the same direction. Great companies make sure everyone is in the right seat on the bus.
So let’s try this: It didn’t work out because it’s not what I was put here to do. I’m most at home in the pond, not climbing trees. I have no desire to climb that tree and only did it because of someone’s influence. No need to be angry with them. They were just doing what they thought was best. Bless their heart. My job now is to find what I was born to do and then go do it to the best of my ability. And frankly, if there’s something in my life that I’m doing out of obligation or under duress, I’m going to start looking for the appropriate way to stop doing it. I’m not stupid, I was (or am) simply in the wrong seat on the bus.
By the way, that seat on the bus thing isn’t just for companies. It’s for marriages and families and churches and volunteer groups, too.
Wow… My longest post yet, and still not sure I said what I wanted to say. Hope you got something that will help you astound yourself today.
AYT,
Brian
“An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”
- Old English Maxim
How does your plan to create your new world come completely off the rails?
If you’ve read me for long or heard me speak even once, you’ve heard this eleventy million times:
The idea is to astound yourself TODAY.
That means you have a decision to make each day. And the apple and the candy bar have become our metaphors.
Now, we all know which one we should choose. That’s simple. But as we always say, “simple” doesn’t mean “easy.”
Why?
Because we don’t see results – good or bad – right away. We chose the apple today and, in the words of the immortal Yukon Cornelius, “Nothin’.” We start to think that apple thing is a scam perpetrated by the apple farming lobby to get people to buy more apples! And we’re no sucker, right?!?
So tomorrow we choose the candy bar. After all, it’s so much better tasting, what with the chocolate and caramel and all.
And what happens tomorrow? Again… “Nothin’.”
So we erroneously conclude that the candy bar is okay. After all, we chose it and nothing bad happened. We didn’t wake up 15 lbs heavier. We didn’t have a heart attack. “Heck,” we start to think, “I ain’t ever liked that ole’ nasty apple anyhow. That candy bar is a WHOLE lot better. From now on, it’s a candy bar every day!”
And if this was Groundhog Day, I’d say knock yourself out. But alas, it isn’t. No, in our world, each day — and the decision along with it — rolls into the next.
So while you don’t see any results (good or bad) today, imagine the cumulative effect of an apple a day versus a candy bar a day. Imagine next November 3rd after an apple a day vs a candy bar a day. Got that picture? If you get to next November 3rd & aren’t happy with the results, all you have to do is look at the choice you made today.
Did you choose convenient or capable? Comfortable or capable? Competent or capable?
In fact, if you’re not thrilled with today, just look at last November 3rd.
Alright. So what’s it gonna be — not for this November 3rd, but next November 3rd?
Your choice… I hope you’ll choose to astound yourself today!
Brian
“Great things are done by a series of small things brought together.”
Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890)
Dutch Painter & hell with a razor blade
You’ll recall he didn’t like his ear; You’ve probably heard Don McLean sing about him; You’ve certainly seen the “swirly” stars. You also may have noticed he died at 37.
Van Gogh was an interesting character.
He only painted for 10 years.
He grew up a preacher’s kid, living in mining communities as his father preached to the poor, and never pursued any significant artistic endeavors as a child.
While he did work for an art dealer for a time, he eventually became a preacher like his father. It was his brother, Theo, who encouraged him to paint. Both Vincent AND his parents thought Theo was nuts. But in 1880, his brother’s persistence paid off; Vincent finally gave up preaching and began to paint.
And then…
It appeared Vincent & his parents were right! No one was buying his paintings.
Regardless, Vincent kept at it.
Despite suffering mental illness, epilepsy, a myriad of other illnesses – and absolutely zero success in the marketplace – van Gogh became a prolific painter over 10 years.
Right up until he took his own life.
Wow, Brian. Thanks for the Buzzkill. On Monday.
Stay with me, please.
See, van Gogh created a new world for himself.
He didn’t begin to paint as a first career; He wasn’t a prodigy; He didn’t even have confidence in himself! If not for his brother, Vincent would likely have never picked up a brush.
Despite his late start, mental & physical illness, Vincent van Gogh ended up painting 3 of the top 10 most expensive paintings of all time.
That’s more than any other individual artist, and the 3 paintings total over $200 million! JUST THOSE THREE! I’m sure someone knows the value of his entire collection, but I couldn’t find it. Suffice it to say, it must be worth a LOT of dollars!
Yet he died a “failure.”
Sometimes the new world you create won’t pay economically until long after you’re gone.
But it won’t pay today, tomorrow or EVER if you don’t do the small things that can be brought together to form something great.
Remember, you don’t have to invent the light bulb to astound yourself; You simply have to do what you’re capable of doing.
Van Gogh was capable of painting potato eaters, sunflowers, haystacks, starry nights, even himself;
So whether they sold or not, he continued to paint them.
It must have seemed small at the time, sitting in a field alone, staring at hay, filled with doubt, knowing no one was buying.
And yet, he did it – every day – because it was the one thing he was capable of doing.
Are you capable of doing a small thing?
How about a series of small things?
When you put those small things together, what kind of new world will you create?
Do something small, something you’re capable of doing, as you start this week — one page, one call, one email, one household chore, a single flower — and you’ll Astound Yourself Today!
Brian
