Many things and much has happened over the last year. I've gone from running my own small business, spinning tales dealing with branding, spilling opinions about logos, and launching what I thought was my ticket to stress-free and scalable success and professional satisfaction to shutting everything down and re-engaging in my roots as a logistician.
These more serious-sounding endeavours come hot on the heels of getting married, starting the process of settling into married life, and let's not forget that ever more contentious of affairs - staying healthy as Time relentlessly presses forward, disregarding yours, mine and everyone's preferences to pause and take stock.
Nope, that's not how life works, and the only thing I can confidently say to anyone who dares to ask about Time is that every few years, it feels like a giant cosmic finger reveals itself and presses the fast-forward button on life. Like you'd get when adjusting the world speed in SimCity or pressing fast forward on one of the many new-age and less-than-average movies or sitcoms.
But this isn't a passing piece of media. This is your life. It's my life. It's a matter of... something. Making things happen? Making money? Making meaningful relationships?
Framing life and putting it into context is something that religion and God do well. This happens at the same Time the agnostics attempt to translate all good with any good and no dependence on righteous oversight. I can't help but believe most of these people would have less to talk about at dinner parties if they didn't build their brand on being apathetic to God when so much of life only makes sense when looked at through the lens of the divine.
Don't misinterpret this as stoic, sadist, or sad sequences of thought drawn out by birthday blues. I'm happy to report being in a better state than I have been in years. Context has set in and provided the comfort of what I now consider my new normal. A reconstruction project that started before COVID and that will surely keep expanding with new and random changes coming. What they are? I have no idea - but along with the ever-fastening forward, the only other guarantee in life is change.
Thankfully, embracing change and not being able to control everything is something I've become... I'd love to say I've mastered it, but that's bullshit. I still want control. I want the power to manage my circumstances. Who doesn't?
The problem is life - rightly - is surrounded by others, their opinions, motivations, selfish desires, selfless will, and nuances that are easy to skip over as that finger comes to fuck with how little Time we have to build on what those around us are trying to share.
Those moments of sharing, those relationship-building pauses, give life meaning, like the story behind a painting that makes you care. If you're willing, those are moments that make you learn. And in some cases, again, if willing, moments that make you take stock of what matters and why.
So, what has been learned in the year and years leading up to 34? It's a long list, so I'll keep it to four, just as my wife requested.
1) Your work isn't your identity.
As much as I make a strong case for living at work being the answer to all meaning and purpose in a man's life. My Time running Storytime, which took over every minute of my life for almost 5 years, among other things, taught me that no matter how much you want it to be true. Work isn't life.
Work is a job. Yes, it can be meaningful and profound and bring joy - by virtue of who you get to work with. The fact is that even the most well-meaning job is there to deliver an outcome whether you're willing to show up or need to move on.
Work is very important. I do not doubt about that. But when you leave the office, the site, the theatre... whatever's out there waiting to be done after you do what you're paid to do... that should exist too. Whatever or whoever that is should be taken as or more seriously as what you spent the last ten hours engaged in.
The takeaway? Money is great, I love money and having a spare dollar for a sweet treat. But don't wear blinders. See life as a whole.
2) You can't put a price on your health.
Poor investment in your health will result in taking all that money you made at work and giving it straight to the physicians, doctors, physios, and specialists you'll need to engage to keep you alive.
Your health has an inverse relationship with Time. Time will keep going and not care, but as Time goes on, your body will. We all degrade; it's natural and unavoidable. My steadily growing bald spot and receding hairline prove this truth.
I know this lesson to be true. I have known it to be true for some time. Have I figured out how to motivate my lazy ass to consistently exercise without it feeling like a chore? Absolutely not. Like knowing smoking and not exercising will kill me (or, at a minimum, give me a poorer version of life), this is a textbook example of knowing something to be accurate but not doing something about it.
3) People come in seasons.
This one took Time to sink in. It's been a hard lesson to learn, but it's one I've become comfortable with. You see, I always had backup for the first 30 years of my life. People around to vent to, venture with, and veer or steer off course to do something stupid (usually the catalyst of great bonding).
Circumstances, COVID, Time, and what would seem to be a change in subtle preferences in ideology, mindset, hobbies, politics, etc., mean that those who you feel will never fade eventually go from being vibrant and potent contributions to your life to those you occasionally refer to when remembering adventures long past.
This is sad. No denying it. In my case, be it a result of my selfishness, the changes I wanted to pursue, or perhaps as a long-delayed reaction to who I am and how I carry myself - seeing life in season seemingly can't be helped.
The silver lining is that, as it happens, as much as this is a painful separation from one's past to a realisation of the present. There are always new people to be in your life and make an effort for. This new cast of characters fills your stories with nuance and flutter mainly by showing up. Some, of course, are there for life; both truths are beautiful.
4) The response counts more than the answer.
Work has changed quite a bit for me; I went from small business proprietor to working for a corps of a company with no future, to being part of a mothership of potential that's aggressively chasing down opportunities and swallowing them whole even if the prime mates teeth haven't fully settled in.
This means I have some measure of responsibility and authority over others during this season of life. Not because I crave power; I crave progress; I need people to make progress. Their help, their insights, their experience. I need these to spin them together and push things in the right direction.
My change in professional circumstances means I must lay out a vision and set of expectations for others to follow. The problem is that I don't have enough capacity, Time, skill, or talent to know everything about everything, everyone, or every circumstance.
As a result, I spend much Time socialising ideas; I'm a big fan of oversharing and getting everyone on the same page - plus, sharing ideas helps me understand what the hell is actually meant to happen... a bit like improv jazz (which I know nothing about) compared to a well planned and synchronised score to a rehearsed scene.
The other reason I socialise and share ideas is because I want feedback. Input. Other contributors. I've learned that what I really want from people isn't necessarily the answer but something that helps point me in the right direction. I've come to believe that there are few absolute truths - especially at work - and in the process of sharing ideas, I'm looking for a bearing more than a brainy or braindead answer.
I respond well when those I'm asking for help respond - wanting to help. When the response is flat, disengaged, or evasive. We will struggle to get along because when I ask for help, I'm admitting. I don't know what to do and would like you to lend a hand, won't you? Why not?
This idea is an evolution of a lesson I learned while running Storytime; once I knew, I used it when assessing all prospective clients and projects. The lesson is this; some people want to create, and others want to destroy.
Let me put it into an example: someone comes along wanting a logo, and you make a draft - gauge the response - because you'll find that almost all responses fall into one of two buckets. The first) this is interesting, but could we change the font because that would send a stronger message? What do you think? the second) I hate it; I don't know why; I can't put my finger on it, just no, try again and come back to me.
The first is trying to work with you and to collaborate on the answer that pushes both of you forward in the "right" direction. The second gets off by shitting on you and will never be happy unless they see suffering and pain.
It seems simple, but just to be clear, avoid the latter like the plague. It's not worth the emotional cost of working with a psychopath that's dead inside.
Summary: gauge the response and nurture those who are keen to help.
What do all of these lessons have to do with each other? There's more to life than work, health is wealth, people come and go, and the response is what counts?! I don't know if they are linked, but they may be in some subtle and not obvious way. You could narrow these four lessons into two points: what you do with your Time and who you spend Time with is most of the Time within your control.
Feeding off the idea that there is rarely a right answer and most of life is figuring out the direction of travel. You, me... we... should count ourselves lucky that those choices are available to us. Be they hard, uncomfortable, in progress, or ones that lead to multitudes of meaningful improvement.
Feel free to read into these lessons, do something about them, be passive, be unimpressed, or be supportive. It's your choice. That's the point. And for that, I am happy for you.