Nine Lives

Travel and dread

I have been in one place for the better part of six weeks.  A quick trip to Atlanta last week hardly qualified as travel.  Two non-stop flights, two nights in a hotel, two speeches and two cab rides is a piece of cake.

But tomorrow I leave for a week and that is the beginning of a heavy travel schedule that will include Abu Dhabi, Italy, Fiji, Australia and all corners of the USA.  And I am feeling a familiar sense of dread.  This always comes as a bit of a surprise.  You see I love what I do and travel is the only way to meet readers face to face and to learn the amazing things they have done as a result of being provoked by something I wrote.  I always learn from these encounters.

Travel also allows me to provide a bit of light for many who live daily in workplaces that are dark.  Audiences often find my words inspiring and that gives me a sense of doing something worthwhile in the world.

 

I always thought it was the travel I dreaded.  I would joke that my clients paid me to travel and my speaking and consulting were free. 

But this morning, as I walked my dog Bo for the second to the last time for weeks to come, I turned my thoughts in another direction.  What are the real costs I thought.

• time with my life partner and best friend, Janell
• these walks with Bo in the early morning before the world has come alive
• writing in the morning at my own desk
• sleeping in my own bed with my own pillow
• the comfort of routine
• a cup of coffee and a local newspaper
• the time to visit family
• time with friends
• an exercise routine
• healthy eating
• a good nights sleep

And I realized the list was a long one and all of the elements on the list had two things in common. They are elements of a "normal" life for someone my age and they are all things I value.

For some reason this thought process has reduced the feeling of dread.  I am making a choice to forgo a number of things I value greatly, in order to get in a silver cylinder full of people with germs to pursue other things I value greatly.  When stated this way, the reason for dread disappears.  It is not so much a matter of cost. I am choosing between conflicting positive values.  The issue may well be seeing that all values get served at different points in my life and that when possible I merge values.  So I guess I will get back to my packing.

Just When You Least Expect It....

The day was going really well.  The last Friday in 2007 found me on a conference call with the Stern Agency.  The topic; becoming their newest client.  Carr and I were trying to sound intelligent and ask good questions, but we had already decided to take a leap of faith.  And that is what it is when you choose a PR firm, a leap of faith.  Our friend Jim Ericson had made the introductions and Carr and I felt good about the energy present when we met with Danny Stern in New Jersey.  Jim, who knew Danny from the Leigh Bureau, had been saying good things about Stern for years.  Lisa and Nicole, Danny's colleagues were also impressive.  But most of all it was the energy.  It was good energy. It was natural energy.

I hung up the phone and went out into the living room to tell Janell about the decision.  She pointed at her computer.  I thought that was sort of strange but continued to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.  As I passed her on the way back to the office she pointed at her computer a second time.  I looked at her and could see she was in shock.  I said, "what's wrong".  She just pointed and then signaled for me to sit down.

There on the screen was an email from a woman who lived next door when our Beth and Missy were pre-schoolers.  She and her husband have been friends ever since.  She was writing to tell us that she was heading to the hospital to start treatment for Leukemia.  The same kind of Leukemia that took Janell's sister a decade earlier.

When I started this blog I wasn't sure what I would write about.  I have always felt that one only wrote when one had something to say.  I thought I would be writing about business, big thoughts provoked by my books and speaking.  That may still happen but life is unscripted and so will this blog be unscripted.  Perhaps if I stay where the energy is natural I will in fact have something to say that is worth saying.  Or perhaps not.

Today was a great day! Today was a sad day. 24 hours of non stop unscripted life.  Not much to say except that I love you and I especially send my love to a courageous couple in a battle for their very life and to others who face similar circumstances.  I love you.

The Holidays

I am looking out on a rainy 76 degree South Florida day. Whitecaps are visible in the distance.  Red tide warning flags are blowing in the wind as all but the hearty avoid the killer algae.  We needed the rain but not the Red Tide.  Up north airports are full of people trying to get home for Christmas. My sand flea bites itch.  The windows are all open and a breeze flows through the condo. A mixed bag you might say.

Yesterday I turned 66.  Sort of a diabolical number.  I remember the comments people made when they saw my Gold's Gym membership number, 666.  Left knee throbbing as it has been for four weeks.  Rotator cuff in the left shoulder sending shooting pains down my arm when I lift my arm in a certain way.  Pulled a 405 pound dead lift on my birthday.  I received a contract for CATS yesterday and it looks good enough to sign.  Soon my loan to Ontend will be paid. I have family all around me and Mia, the 9 year old regularly steals my heart while Madeleine, the 11 year old continues to amaze me with her intelligence and mature insights.  Janell seems better and my daughters accompanied me for a walk with dog on the beach on my birthday morning.  My son in law Paul is good company and such a talented guy. The condo fire alarm went off three times last night waking everyone. Bo Jangles has trouble standing up after a long walk.  For the first time ever I am having trouble with my next years goals and resolutions.  A mixed bag you might say.

Its always a mixed bag.  And sometimes you can't see the good in the bad.  13 years ago my running came to a crashing halt when I learned it was either rebuild my knee or run the risk of doing even worse damage.  For months I mourned the loss of an old friend that had been with me every morning for 40 years.  Then I started using the precious morning hours to write.  Today the eight books I have written and the two in manuscript form are testament to the good that can come from the bad.  Its always a mixed bag and I wouldn't have it any other way.