Rebuild. Renew. Restore.

Rebuild.

Renew.

Restore.

To restore is to return something (someone) to its original and authentic condition after damage or decay.

To renew is to make something (someone) “like new,” through parts replacement or process restarting.

To rebuild is to repair physical damage to something (someone) using existing, foundational, or new materials. What did I need? Restoring to a past state? Renewing for future use? Rebuilding a perfect state of being?

My satori, my sudden awakening, the aha-ha moment as we might say in the West, is that I am dying and the time to bring something (someone), myself, to a final condition that matches perception to reality, is fading. Not gone, fading.

My satori, my mortality, was staring at me, which didn’t invoke fear, but instead gave me an unshakable belief that the end could come at any time, and that I was incomplete, imperfect, and not the man I wanted to be. At the time I write this, the anniversary of losing my brother in law at way too early an age, looms. Perspective.

Life teaches you lessons: Some people are blessed to have mentors, guides and teachers around them that they learn important truths from. Even if they don’t realize they are imparting their experiences onto you, with eyes and ears, you can see and understand. Life also doesn’t ask if the mentor or guide or teacher is the one you want, or the one you need, that’s open to you to pick through the best, and to leave behind the rest. To understand what lead up to my Satori, it’s impossible to not look backwards. Indulge me while I discuss these mentors.

The first was my father, Carmen. The son of Italian immigrants, he was the fifth of five children, the only boy, and his mother died when he was four years old. His father, a sanitation worker, held the family together as best as he could, and his older sisters, especially his beloved Eva, did the rest. A very intelligent man, logical, common sense, street smart and fists that he knew when to use or just intimidate with. My dad never had academic opportunities, he joined the Army before returning home to marry and start his own family. Later in life, he became both a president of a Labor Union and a Credit Union. He believed in service to others, even if he wouldn’t/couldn’t articulate that sentiment, but he was gregarious and warm once you got past the menacing scowl.

Flawed like us all, but he taught me to value family above all, to work hard, and to own your mistakes and move on. Simple lessons given not so much with words, but with actions; you could set your watch to him, if he said he’d do something, he’d do it, if you needed the shirt off his back, he’d give it.

While my father was a role model for many things, education was not one of them. He did however send me to Catholic grade school where I received an above average education, but his advice was always to join the military after school, forget college, learn a skill.

I joined the Navy (of course) where I met my second mentor, Leading Machinery Division First Class MM1(SS) Phil Richardson. Phil was a hard man, like my father except I wasn’t his son and he didn’t put up with immature nonsense. Perpetual bags under his eyes, perpetual coffee cup in his hand, Phil was all about the mission, and our mission was to keep the submarine moving through the water. I learned from Phil that the job wasn’t done until it was cleaned up and the paperwork done. He demonstrated in his own personal conduct a dedication to personal excellence and conduct, leadership by example, a way of conduct that that resonated with me as correct. I was only 22 when Phil came onboard, and I had been a bit adrift, good at my job but restless and tired by the nonstop trips to sea and a feeling that life was passing me by as my high school friends graduated college. Phil instilled work ethic, even if it was dark and caffeinated instead of some uplifting and inspiring nonsense. The quote from Ben Hur was my life then, “…row well, and live.” Phil taught me that it didn’t have to be glamorous, it didn’t have to be visible, but you had to have a standard of conduct if you wanted to be respected as a man among men.

After the Navy, business awaited, but not at first. For 13 years it was just more work, not that dissimilar to the Navy. In fact, the job running an electrical power generation facility was exactly like the Navy, including my ex-Navy coworkers. A more mature me navigated life and did my job, until the door of opportunity swung and a chance to lead not just one facility, but dozens all over the country, appeared. Business mentors came into my life, and not just one, but a hearty beef stew of Chuck, Roger, Tom and Mark (full names withheld to protect their privacy) a cadre of voices that shaped me further.

Chuck, the former submarine Captain, taught me quiet professionalism and provided me a more educated and stoic version of Phil. I would have never gotten the opportunities I had if Chuck hadn’t gotten pancreatic cancer and died. I would have gladly traded my future job for his life, but it doesn’t work like that.

Roger taught me that intelligence and decision making mattered, and that a career awaited me if I make sound decisions (much harder than you think!).

Tom taught me to have balance in life, that family and work had to be in balance and that if I didn’t bring balance to those things, no one would, and in fact, the business would be happiest if I worked myself into death if I found a way to drive up profit. Tom also taught me a common sense approach to business practices that was deeply influential, and he was a very human leader.

Finally Mark, the owner, CEO, President, Chairman of the Board and the most intense man I’ve ever met in my life. 24/7 focused on business, laser-like focus, ruthless pursuit of goals and objectives. He could be the most callous man while at the same time, having a sensitive side that came out privately and only when really needed. He worked harder at 82 than most men 2/3s his age. Mark was a hard taskmaster, but you knew where you stood with him and there was never any ambiguity about his intentions or what mattered to him (mostly money).

Collectively, Chuck, Roger, Tom and Mark were incredibly impactful on my life, and it was the homogenization of their four voices that changed me from mid-level manager into a senior leader. With such great mentors, I should have been all set, yes? But no, I reached my early 50’s lost. Work dominated my life (ignoring Tom’s influence even though I knew he was right), my health was always an afterthought, and worse, I let my identity get altered and my values compromised by tolerating poor workplace behavior because of the golden handcuffs of dollar bills they fed me.

Satori! It’s not just a word to me, an emotion, a feeling. An awakening. Like so many, the COVID years changed my life. I became isolated, as I was the only one in the office every day. My father, and father-in-law, died within weeks of each other and we weren’t able to properly say goodbye to either. I started to see life differently; life became my mentor, teaching me cruelty and unfairness and above all else, shining a mirror on my own mortality.

Rebuild.

Renew.

Restore.

It took time, but those lessons took hold. I finally got brave enough to leave the job. It was terribly difficult to leave Mark, in many ways a father figure (albeit a cold and demanding one) but I reached a point, I’m sure too late, where I couldn’t accept the lack of personal agency anymore.

I embraced my health, mental and physical. I moved to a small, walkable village that I walk endlessly, and heavy kettlebells, iron shaping fat into iron, did the rest. Healthy eating, good sleep, protecting my mind and soul, simple lessons, simple truths.

I rebuilt the foundations of who I was. My mind and mood improved and my body followed.

I renewed my faith in Jesus and in turn, renewed my Christian worldview. I recentered my life around my wife and son, family and friends.

I restored purpose, written out in my journals, a roadmap to what time, God willing, I have left. An ideal to strive towards: a gentleman, a life long learner, a religious scholar, a set of skills and competencies that give me pleasure and purpose, and a healthy body and mind to accomplish all these things.

Rebuild.

Renew.

Restore.

For me, I needed all three, but I also learned and want to share that it’s never too late to make adjustments in your life. Ultimately, that was the true Satori in my life.