#147 - Decisions, Decisions

If you think about it, life is a series of decisions, followed by an occasional lull, followed by another series of decisions. Do I get out of bed? Do I sleep in an extra hour? Do I have oatmeal for breakfast? Do I wear plaid to work? (Hopefully the answer to that last question is a decisive NO.)

Those little day-to-day decisions are punctuated by bigger decisions that are often referred to as MAJOR LIFE EVENTS – moving, getting married, having children, changing jobs. As a result, the course of one’s life graphed out looks a bit like a sine wave or an EEG.

Recently, I was faced with a potential major life event. A company I had worked eight years for before being laid off last August called to ask me if I was interested in coming back to work for them. Seems they realized they had made a teensy miscalculation in the number of people they actually needed to adequately run the day-to-day operations of the company.

Deep down, I suppose some part of me felt vindicated that they had realized their “error” in letting me go. So I agreed to talk to them, not really expecting anything to come of the interview. To put it mildly, I generally suck at interviews unless I don’t feel I have anything to lose or don’t feel pressured to do well. One of those must have been the case because a few days later they called to offer me a position.

After a little back and forth negotiating (something else I’m not much good at), they agreed to pay me what I was asking. I prepared myself to return to what I felt would be a more stressful situation than my current job, even going so far as to fill out some preliminary paperwork and telling my current employer about the offer. Then I woke up and smelled the coffee, I guess.

A delay of a few days in getting some questions answered gave me time to think about the impending move. The more time I had to think, the more anxious I became about going back. On the other hand, could I really turn down what was a sizeable pay increase? I didn’t know, so I did what any married man would do – I asked my wife.

As I talked over the offer with my wife, she noticed that I started talking more and more like someone who had decided to stay and not change jobs. I wasn’t aware of it until she pointed it out, but my entire discussion with her essentially became me convincing myself not to accept the offer.

I realized that I was lucky enough not to need the extra money. My current position feels a lot less stressful than my former job. I know everyone’s name, and everyone seems to get along. Plus, they seem to like the job I do and sounded genuinely relieved and grateful that I had decided to stay. I think I was as well.

Would I make the same choice six months from now? Who knows? That’s a decision for another day that may never arrive, or perhaps it is part of one ongoing decision. That discussion, however, is a bit deep for this blog. Instead, I’ll just worry about whether to pour a glass of red or white wine when I get home tonight from work.

#66 - Thoughts on Success

Not to get too political, but in reading any number of conservative blogs and comments on various news stories one gets the impression that hard work and drive are all it takes to be successful and that anyone can do it.

But we can't all be successful, can we? Don't there have to be unsuccessful people against whom the "successful" can measure themselves to know they are in fact successes?

What exactly does it mean to be successful? There are any number of answers to that question, the vast majority of which seem to involve money at some level.

Success seems to be measured by car you drive, the house you live in, the amount of money you make, the toys you have. By those standards, I guess I am moderately successful. But it wasn't always so.

By those yardsticks, most of my life could be written off as a failure. In my first career in broadcasting, my income never topped $25,000 a year. I made enough to pay rent, eat, and to eventually pay off my student loans from college. Not exactly a rags to riches story.

Thanks in large part to the financial prudence of my wife Teresa (the real brains of the outfit) I might be considered a little more successful these days. I live in a nice house (not a McMansion but big enough for us) and drive what I think is a pretty nice truck, used for pulling our one toy, our fifth wheel trailer.

Yet there are, I suspect, people with smaller bank accounts than many of us whom I would consider more successful than I. They have found the one thing I have struggled to obtain for most of my life - a real joy or passion for living.

Their success is measured in ways having little to do with dollar signs or the things money can buy (sorry Madison Avenue): working in a job or field they truly love regardless of what it pays. Still having a touch of the reckless abandon they possessed in childhood. The ability to laugh openly, cry freely, live and love simply. The ability to marvel in a sunset and in the artistic ability required to paint one. Being happy in their own skin and in the place where they are.

Those are the types of small successes I am working toward. I am not consistently there, but I have moments. Turning out a tasty loaf of fresh-baked bread or preparing a meal that others enjoy are two of the ways I measure success these days. Finding something to smile about is another.

And so, I find myself back at my earlier question. We can't all be successful, can we? Well, maybe we can, but only if we stop measuring success the way an accountant might measure a company's financial solvency. Here's to success.