Category: Direction Matters

Things you’re never “done” with:

• Books
• Health
• Legacy
• Art/Creations
• Relationships

…So stop tricking yourself into thinking that after you’ve:

• Read the book…
• Finished that 30-day fitness challenge…
• Retired from your career…
• Shipped that one creation…
• Married the person you love…

…That you’re “done.”

No.

You’re *always* just beginning.

I’m at a Martial Arts Conference this weekend and one of the presenters said the following:

“When my daughter, 14 years old, starts dating—in 23 years (said only half-jokingly)—the person who takes her out better be able to articulate a moral code. Because if they can’t, that’s because there probably is no code.”

Regardless of whether or not you’re dating, married, single… if I asked you right now to articulate your moral code… could you?

As in, could you articulate to me, right now, what you stand for… what you value… what you believe… what guides you… what keeps your moral compass calibrated… what “forward” on your moral compass looks like…

Because if you can’t articulate it… what you have to ask yourself is—with full honestly—is there one there?

P.s. If you’re looking for help calibrating “forward” on your compass, this guide will help.

We find our way forward by moving forward—not by standing still.

It’s tempting to want to chart out the entire journey before beginning—to minimize the surprises and unknowns. And to a certain extent, thorough planning can be quite helpful. But, at the other end of the spectrum, too much can be a handicap.

The reality we must accept with moving into the unknown (the future), is that there are going to be unknowns—things you couldn’t possibly have planned for by staring at the drawing board. And so we plan and prepare for a “good enough” amount of time—no more—and then we venture forth.

I aim to spend 30-60 minutes thinking carefully each day about my path and my trajectory (this blog). And the rest of the time, I try and spend walking, playing, teaching, training, trying, failing, doing, creating, interacting, producing, shipping, reading, experimenting, etc—pressing my boots firmly into the erasing nature of the earth.

Because it’s much easier to figure out which way to go when you can look back at where you’ve come from—and can utilize all of the info that accompanies that history. Moving forward from a singular point—with no past trajectory—makes forward exponentially harder to figure out.

My questions for you are: How much time to you spend thinking vs acting? Do you like this ratio? What might your ideal ratio be and what adjustments can you make to get there?

What does what you’ve posted publicly online say about you?

Imagine for a second that all of your social media posts and comments from all of your accounts, all of your websites, all of your blogs, etc… were neatly laid out in front of me in a multi-tabbed browser. No time for curating either—everything that’s public right now is what would be opened for me to review.

Does the thought of that make you feel proud or cringe? Do you think it would be a fairly accurate representation of you or not so much? Do you think this profiling would match what I would say about you if we spent a few hours in conversation in person together?

Here’s the thing…

A big part of your legacy will be what’s left publicly online. It’s where so many of us spent so much of our time. It’s where so many of your loved ones keep in touch with you and your life’s story.

…And it’s where so many of us will go to remember you.

If you’re not careful, you might end up leaving behind an unintentional legacy. One that makes you cringe or feel superficial or one that just plain misrepresents the “real” you. And not because what you shared didn’t authentically come from you, but because it was shared unintentionally with other people in mind—and became tainted.

This is your reminder to be mindful with how you use your public tools.

Everything you do contributes to the overall picture that ultimately becomes your life’s legacy. To think otherwise might lead to patches in your picture that feel out of place and that you ultimately regret.

I’ll sometimes stumble upon something I’ve written in the past and feel… surprised.

Sometimes at the thought (because I have since forgotten about that thought), sometimes at the way it was presented (either in a “well done” or “ew, omg” fashion), sometimes at the analogy choice/ word choice/ or storyline.

Regardless of why my past writing surprised me… it’s always a great reminder that past thoughts, ideas, efforts… fade. And new thoughts, ideas, and efforts emerge… and that we are always in a constant flux and everything (inside and out) is always changing.

Just because we wrote about something in the past or answered a question in our lives at one point before—doesn’t mean it’s answered permanently. In fact, assuming so could lead us in the wrong direction and regrettably down the wrong life path.

Looking back on your old work and at some of your past efforts might surprise you, too—and serve as a wonderful reminder that, when it comes to inner work, there are no answered questions per se, only answers in progress.

P.s. Not so sure about your direction in life? Fear you’re heading in a direction that might end with regret? My guide can help prevent that.

Sometimes I fantasize about living another life.

And sometimes I find myself fantasizing about being in that other life, fantasizing about being back in this one.

And part of me wonders if this is just the human condition: to constantly imagine and desire all the other possibilities in lieu of the incredible opportunities that have already come together to give us the life we have today.

And part of me wonders if this will always be a mental program running in the background: dreaming, fantasizing, scheming, desiring, wishing, wondering—and if it’s something worth turning off (and practicing more present gratitude) or turning up (and letting imagination run wild to paint a masterpiece that we can ambitiously reverse engineer our way to).

And part of me wonders if, like most things in life, it’s some kind of combination of the two…