Mirror, mirror...

Sometimes, looking back is the only way to get a clear view of what’s in front.

And sometimes, bad things inspire good things.

Which is the angle I’m taking today.

I started by typing “vantage point” which I quickly replaced with “angle”…because vantage implies advantage (to me, anyway) and that’s a bit too positive for me right now.

If you’ve known me for a long time, you likely know I’m not one for looking longingly in the rearview mirror.

Nor am I one for desperately staring in it, hoping upon hope that the picture will somehow re-arrange itself and—presto!—I’ll somehow have been regifted a re-do by The Universe.

I know that’s not how it works.

You can’t stare too long, but you do have to look. You need to take in enough to help you move on—better, stronger, more focused, more at peace—but not so much that you miss what’s around and in front of you.

My college basketball coach (and he’s really his own post altogether, so I’ll keep the reference brief here) used to say “If ifs and buts were fruits and nuts then every day would be Christmas.”

To be honest, I’m not even sure I knew what that meant at first. I mean, I was 18, a country-bumpkin relative to many of my classmates. Eventually I got the context clues, though, which made his overused line that much more annoying.

But here I am, quoting it now. And that’s the “beauty” of perspective. Seeing or hearing the same thing, completely differently.

Just like last week, this week also has a “look backward to look forward” component to it—as what motivates today’s post is something I first talked about here last April, notably Item 7, specifically 7a.

I don’t re-read old posts, except when I’m referencing them in a new one, and I rarely do that, let alone two weeks in a row.

But here we are.

And, once again…lessons.

But I’m going only going to focus on one, the obvious but most important one: send the message, make the call, schedule the plan.

It’s something I have encouraged many times before here…and I can’t emphasize it enough now.

A week or two ago, I got a text message from the person in 7a. My eyes lit up and I smiled upon seeing their name flash across my phone.

I mean, the last exchange with them was this past December, when they sent an out-of-the blue message fueled by scotch, Dr. Dre (“No Diggity”), and fond memories. That’s the best kind of message to get, I think. The “I was not-so-randomly enjoying life and I slightly more randomly thought of you” kind.

And then I read the new message, “problem with the stomach…endoscopy…colonoscopy…nothing…MRI…stage 4…metastasized…chemotherapy…buy time…often think of the good times with you…All the best!!!!! ❤️”

Wait. What?

No. No. No.

Fucking cancer.

Another of the good ones.

It felt like a sort of goodbye.

I was really thrown…but managed to get off a decent reply…a short back-and-forth ensued, but what can one really say?

I put on some sad music, closed my eyes, and as my eyes started a slow leak, I started playing it all back.

And while this is not what I was listening to then, as I write now what comes to mind is the great line from that great song by Macklemore and Kesha (don’t judge!): “I wish somebody would have told me, babe, that one day these would be the good old days.”

When we worked together, those really were the good old days, and in so many ways.

I found myself wondering whether I fully appreciated them. That’s a question that’s so tricky to answer now, all these years removed.

It’s hard to say, with the accumulation of knowledge and experience, whether you did the best you could have done. And it’s easy to berate yourself, to say that you did a shitty job of it.

I don’t think it’s unusual to judge past performance with current information.

And I do think that’s such an emotionally grueling and unhealthy use of time.

The reality, always, every time, is that we never know what’s to come—we only know what is. What we do with what is? Up to us.

I truly believe that in those days, I lived and appreciated the moments fully, for what they were—not relative to what had been or what might be. *Just* those standalone moments. In all their glorious, young, innocent/stupid 20-something-ness.

I definitely appreciated the people. They were hard working. Fun. Funny. We were a ginormous pack of “up and comers.” And we did *everything* together.

The opportunity was virtually endless. I got to travel, a lot, and I relished the chance to see new places and to see old friends who had relocated to them. I had the freedom to book the required trips (and there were many of them) at my convenience, and that was back when Saturday stays often made flights more affordable—but we had an expense policy that passed those savings on to us, which is how mixing business with pleasure was so convenient. Work trips were fun, and our time away from our lives was appreciated and compensated. I saw and did so much.

I also had no shortage of opportunity to develop my career. All kinds of specialty training was offered. Our growth objectives were lofty, both in terms of product offerings and where we sold them (going global, baby!) and the company made sure we were supported in all the ways we needed to execute effectively. My career developed naturally as the company evolved, and it was fantastic…decent pay…good benefits…a retirement account which I funded from the jump…until it wasn’t. The ultimate merger or acquisition (I forget which, maybe it was a combo) full of outsiders who all knew more than we did was more than I could manage. I decided it was time to go…and it was. But my career has never been the same. Business isn’t like that anymore.

So as I think about it now, I realize I appreciate all the same things, though admittedly the value is higher to me now—thanks to the benefit of hindsight and a less-than-stellar career since

So, how has the value changed?

Well, when it comes to the people, while I’m in touch with far fewer of them know than I would have expected to be, or maybe even would like to be, they were and still appear to be, a hardworking bunch of really good people. And when we do connect, those connections are genuine, warm, and—for the most part—happy. Over the years I have learned never to trust an employer who describes the workplace as a family, but I also know that authentic human relationships are the underpinning of all the successful things. You don’t have to like everyone let alone become lifelong friends with them, but you do have to be open to them—to similarities, differences, to possibility, and to actual friendship. I don’t think I appreciated the value of some of the people’s values. Back then we were young and fun was the priority, and we had fun doing great work. The genuine, authentic people are the ones who stick with me now, and so much of who I am today was shaped by those years. We’re nothing without good people around us.

In terms of the opportunity, once I moved into the nonprofit sector, *everything* changed.

In terms of travel, seeing new places, seeing friends, having the freedom to schedule and eat and drink as I saw fit (responsibly) was out the window. I didn’t have any say about where I went or when, and I was expected to comply with every travel order. We were to eat and drink enough only for sustenance and were to stay in the cheapest accommodations possible (which wasn’t hard given I was typically in off-the-beaten areas where Holiday Inns were the most “upscale” offering). The travel was viewed as a privilege when really it was a pain in the ass.

In terms of my career, as much as those places said they cared about strategy and growth, they didn’t. They cared about advancing personal image and currying favor. It’s kind of disgusting actually. At least that was my experience.

Though one time I was one of the chosen ones and got to participate in an exclusive year-long global leadership program that included four week-long intensives in other locations—China, Vail (CO), Italy, and Japan. I went early and stayed late for each trip, seeing and doing as much as I could wherever I was. That program did not change my life, but it did change me, for life.

Life—personally and professionally—works best when you’re with good, honest people who are different from you but share the same values. People who don’t take themselves too seriously. People who want the best out of a situation. People who want to lift others up rather than keep the down. When you have good people around, the rest follows.

I know.

This is kind of heavy for a Feel-Good Friday. My heart is heavy for my old friend. For the hand they have been dealt. For the unthinkable impacts on their spouse and grown-ish children.

But I also feel good. For the experiences we had together, for how we enjoyed them then, and for how we appreciate it all—and each other—now.

Life isn’t all rainbows and unicorns.

But life is full of all kinds of love. And you have to take it for what it is, even when it comes wrapped in someone else’s grief and pain.

I love my time here with you, and I am grateful for your presence here with me.

Love you too.

Parting thoughts:

Share