What defines you?
As an older writer here, in what apparently is a sea of youth, I find differentiation in the form of clarity. I know who I am: I've been through the metamorphosis, once, twice, the reinventions, the remodeling of likes and interests and tastes. At almost 58, I narrowed my brand, and embraced mental stability. It is not that new thoughts, ideas or paths are closed to me, I just am not interested in a vagabond way of approaching change. Intentional. Curated.
This has been a year of change for me. I left a job that was my identity, stepping out from the role I was most comfortable filling, key lieutenant, into CEO. I prepared for that moment over a long period of time. I put in the work, reading, upskilling, building emotional intelligence. I love to lead and to manage. I love to provide mentoring to those with less clarity, still finding their way in the open ocean. This is more gratifying than any personal Everest I could climb. Now, with the opportunity to do that, not just for a portion of the team, but the whole squad, I feel vindicated in my choices over the years. Anyone who grinds in the shadows knows that while you're in it, you're never really sure if you are on the right path. There is a difference between knowing the path, and walking the path. The anxiety and fear surrounds you until you burst into the blue sky and just know, OK, I did read the compass correctly.
Life isn't just about work, but I make no lies to myself that there is balance. To reach the pinnacle of heights in business comes with sacrifice. That required me to narrow my personal life even further. Loving inner circle, dog, cat, God. Writing a blog, sometimes two. Finding my home, in my case a village, a place that is walkable, feeds my soul, offers what I need without needing to leave. I may not have the proverbial balance, but was life meant to be 50/50? Was it meant to be defined by anyone but you?
What is my point? There are many ways between point a and z. It's easy to be distracted. It's OK to explore tributaries, but finding your central waterway is the goal. I'm amazed and astonished by sculpture. To have the mental ability to look at a block of granite and visualize not just human form, but to convey emotion and passion, I am at a loss, I wouldn't know where to begin. Michelangelo's “The Madonna Della Pieta” can bring me to tears thinking about the aching beautiful woman mourning her dead son's body. Imagine if the artist, realizing his vision, hundreds of hours into his effort, became distracted. Lost focus. Keep cutting, and lost the clarity.
It's OK to put down the chisels. Be boring, predictable. When you chipped your way down to beauty, stop.
Anth.