The Moment of Truth
I have, for some reason, made a habit of living on the brink, usually looking squarely into the abyss. This has not been a life decision, but it does seem to be a career decision. I do not want to talk about the exact nature of the abyss I am looking into at the moment but suffice it to say that the fork in the road is rather dramatic. One route takes us to a prolonged ability to carry on and stay calm, while the other requires me to work hard not to panic while I shut the engines down and shock a whole cadre of people and vendors.
I am fond of saying that I am a business builder rather than a steady state manager who flies the milk run every day. That is a choice. What I don’t seem to be able to control is the close-to-the-edge aspect of my endeavors. I also don’t seem to be able to parse whether that is inherent in the activities I undertake or some failing in me that traverses the edge as a habit.
A friend of mine who read a book I wrote and was kind enough to post a review extolled my virtues as an indomitable spirit. He said I was the sort who could parachute in with a dime in his pocket and build a magnificent city in six months. He went on to suggest that I would then overbuild and likely go bankrupt in another six months. I wasn’t quite sure how to take that. Am I happy or sad to be that way, if indeed that characterizes me properly?
I always love to hear quotes like the famous Winston Churchill quote that goes, “Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.” That makes noble something that most people consider a disgrace. Failure is not an easy thing for most people to handle. I must be in this vein because failure doesn’t seem to bother me as much as it does others. That’s not to say I like it. But it’s prospect never deters me. I never decide to avoid a situation because it may lead to success. Falling down and getting up again is supposed to be what it’s all about.
At the ripe old age of 65 you might think that I have had enough of falling down and getting up. Apparently not. I sit here while I write admitting to myself that I am not afraid of failure. I would like to think that is less about being numb to failure and rather the awareness that it is never as bad as it seems.
My favorite quote of all time is that famous Man in the Arena speech of Teddy Roosevelt which goes like this:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
Wow, just reading that again now spurs me to pride. I am proud that I strap it on every day and do battle. The current battle is about replacing a technology that badly needs to be replaced because it is polluting our air to horrible effect. This new technology is neither easy to implement and scale nor is it easy to fund and organize. But it is a worthy cause and I do have great devotion to it.
I am now ready for my day. I will get the funding I need to carry on and stay calm. I will make the hard decisions to stand up to the small-minded barriers to success. For me that is not the hard path, but the necessary path. I am driven to fight these battles and pat myself on the back each and every day for doing so. Why do I pat myself, because I have worn out the rest of my friends and families to the task. They accept this about me and tolerate it, but most of them just shake their heads and suggest that they have tried to dissuade me to no effect. Am I moth to the flame or am I Icarus trying to fly too high so that my wings melt. I think not. I just think I am a man that enjoys the struggle.
Here is the funny part of the equation. I have an abundance of people that like to join me in these quests. Actually, more people want in than I generally have room to accommodate. Why is that? They know that what I pursue has these challenges to them. I guess I am not alone in liking the struggle and wanting our lives to be meaningful enough in retrospect. That, I believe may be the biggest motivator for me and my gang. I never want to look back and say that I got by. I want to look back and be proud of the effort.
I just had a big article written about my last great effort. People who have read it suggest that I come off well even though the overall outcome was failure. That has happened before. I guess perhaps I am a sympathetic character to some (even though no journalist can completely avoid tagging me as part of the problem in addition to the guy seeking the solution). I shrug it all off as I always do. It may be my biggest strength that I seem immune to the opinion of others. That’s funny since I think of myself as seeking the approval of others all throughout my life. Perhaps it is more that I have needed a thick skin and enough self-confidence to carry on and have cultivated an ability to put everything into the perspective that suits my tendencies.
Come to think of it…this very story is pretty self-serving in making me feel good about my current predicament. And here’s the last funny thing…I am self-aware enough to realize, but good enough at this to still accept this as motivation to go forth and fight the fight. So, as the Whitesnake song says, “here I go again on my own, going down the only road I’ve ever known, like a drifter I was born to walk alone. An’ I’ve made up my mind, I ain’t wasting no more time…”