First off, I would like to wish a very Merry Christmas to each of you 💟🎄🎅
Seeing as this is the last Monday before the new year, I thought I would share the Why behind my blogging.
One of the main reasons I blog is because I have tremendous respect for the two gentlemen in this video:
So, hopefully you can forgive me for all the times when I sound like a total blowhard (like I did last week.) 😝
We humans are overly seduced by technology.
We love shiny new objects. To a fault.
We focus on new things because they are neat or "cool."
But, they are really just a convenient distraction.
The most important technology, in the world, exists between your two ears.
Your head contains the technology you should be focused on.
The new iPhone will not bring you lasting happiness. It will not fill the void.
Humans are wired for progress. Meaning, progressing from Point A to Point B.
Whether your goal is entrepreneurship, or whatever it is, you need to be clear about your mission.
What is your Point B?
Technology is usually a distraction. A dream. Wishful thinking.
The tool needs to serve the mission.
The mission ALWAYS comes first.
Ask yourself, what are you really trying to do?
Who do you want to be?
What do you want to be remembered for?
A lot of people do not have a clear mission. So, they default to technology for distraction (under the guise of entertainment.) Which ultimately leads to a lot of regret.
Do not let technology get the best of you.
I only say this because I have made this mistake myself.
Many times.
It led me to Nowheresburg.
Emptytown
Regretville
Last week I talked about the great movie La La Land. And, it got me to thinking about the importance of going for it.
In La La Land, the characters chase their dreams. Which caused me to think about an excellent book titled Whoever Makes the Most Mistakes Wins.
The book was written by Richard Farson and Ralph Keyes. And, in the book, you will find a section, titled "No Regrets," which I thought I would pass along to you.
Here are the words of Farson and Keyes:
When doing something we're passionate about, failure becomes a nonissue. Even our worst blunders don't feel like mistakes when they're a result of taking chances we wanted to take. The biggest regrets in life are for risks we didn't take, not ones we took and lost.
Pursuit of a dream rarely leads to regret––
win, lose, or draw. Not pursuing one routinely does. A study of forty-eight women, ages twenty-five to sixty-seven, found that the happiest ones were fulfilling a childhood ambition. Those who weren't doing what they had dreamed of doing, no matter how successful they were in careers and marriage, invariably wished they had chased their dreams instead. According to psychologist Patricia Weenolsen, who conducted this study, "Decisions of the head rather than the heart are the ones we most deeply regret."
Too many of those with unrealized aspirations have set them aside due to fear of failure. The bigger the dream, the greater the fear. Doing less than our best allays this fear. I could have done better if I'd really tried, we assure ourselves. Among the least appreciated reasons for doing superficial, second-rate work of any kind is the comfort of knowing it's not our best that's on the line. By not trying too hard, we avoid learning what our true potential is, and having to fulfill it. Doing our best can be deeply threatening. It forces us to consider what we're actually capable of accomplishing. Once we learn that lesson, we can't unlearn it. Our true potential becomes both a shining light we can follow and an oppressive burden of expectation that might, or might not, be met.
A fear of doing our best, of being our best, is one to which everyone is prey. In its clutches we may not succeed, but at least we don't fail. How could we? We didn't even try. Far more is at stake when we do what we really want to do rather than something less. We may never fully appreciate the role that not pursuing a dream plays in limiting people to disappointing careers and regret-filled lives.
Consider a retired secretary we'll call Emily. Emily led a supremely cautious life. Her reflex response to any suggestion for change was "No." Emily never married, didn't go to college, and lived in her parents' Chicago home. Her entire career was spent working in the same hospital. Emily had few actions to regret, because she initiated few acts. Her life was devoted to avoiding failure. As a result––
in her own mind, anyway––
Emily's life overall was one big failure. She entered the home stretch of that life filled with anguish about not having been bolder. In her late seventies, Emily observed that if she ever wrote a book, it would be titled The Risks I Never Took. We could all contribute a chapter to Emily's book.
Not taking more chances is a major source of regret. That may not become apparent until late in our lives as we review the many roads not taken. "I used to be so gutsy," is a common refrain. "What happened?" Such a realization doesn't necessarily lead to bolder living. Anticipating the pain of failure, at every stage of life we're all susceptible to avoiding activities that might fail. But failure's pain subsides faster than the ache of regret. Thoughts persist about what-ifs and what-might-have-beens had we been more daring. In the long run, avoiding activity that might hurt causes more agony than acting, failing, and dealing with the pain.
Failed risks at least leave us with the pride of having dared, and the knowledge that we gave all we had. A Philadelphia papergoods salesman recalled wistfully the four years he spent in Los Angeles trying unsuccessfully to become a stand-up comedian. Did he regret the way things worked out? "Not a bit," said the salesman. "I gave it my best shot. Knowing that, I'm not unhappy with my life now. I'd only be unhappy if I hadn't tried to do stand-up first."
Risk takers ranging from entertainers through rock climbers to business founders seldom regret their daring ventures, even ones that go belly up. They know that few things are more satisfying than jumping high, even when they land on their backsides. Bold acts are rarely regretted, regardless of the outcome. On the other hand, obsessive brooding is often the result of throwing one's hand in too soon. Regrets bordering on mourning are felt about risks not taken: job offers spurned, loves abandoned, fights backed away from, pictures not painted, start-ups not started. Remorse is far more likely about being too cautious than about being too reckless. "I think I don't regret a single 'excess' of my responsive youth," said Henry James, "...I only regret, in my chilled age, certain occasions and possibilities I didn't embrace."
Over the weekend, I finally got around to watching the movie La La Land.
What a mistake!
Meaning, I cannot believe it has taken me so long to see the film.
It was fantastic!
I am not usually a fan of musicals. But, this movie was simply delightful.
If you have not seen it, do yourself a favor, and go check it out.
ASAP
