When The Sheen Wore Off

A couple of months ago, I hit a personal high, pace and outlook that was revolutionary for me. At about that same time, Charlie Sheen was hitting the news for being a complete whack-job. Yet I slightly idolized his perspective and felt a kinship with the optimistic, aggressively positive outlook he was espousing.

I don't have access to quite the same mood altering resources he has available at his disposal, so I've found it a difficult to consistently maintain that perspective. At my peak, during that short run of euphoric outlook, I had a clear, concise and optimistic view of life. I had a strong and firm grasp on what was important. Family. Love. Self-esteem. Focus. Commitment. Discipline.

Then I slipped.

I don't recall exactly what it was that threw me off track, but I do know that I stop being patient, I stop being optimistic, I stop thinking about all of the good things and opportunities. Instead, fell into old habits, finding frustration with situations I could not rationally expect to control, and resentment over my inability to do so.

What a waste.

But there's no reason I could not easily regain my footing, and position atop that mental hill. In fact, there's every reason I should. I'm already 3/4 there. I lost some mindfulness, some "reality-check" perspective that so easily lifted me to that high of highs.

It's simply a matter of remembering how lucky I am to have all the things I do have, to wake up every day able to do the things I do, living in the place I live and having the opportunities I have. And then remembering that it's a limited time offer so I'd damn well better enjoy it.

I'll Never Turn to the Dark Side

There's something amazing about sitting beside your 7 year old son as he watches "The Empire Strikes Back" for the first time, during the Darth Vader death scene. Especially when your son looks at you with a hopeful gaze and asks if Luke is going to save his dad. The obvious answer being "He already has." It's such a powerful moment of redemption and such an idilic father/son moment. And I got to experience just that this weekend. I believe my son heard my response but my voice might have been cracking and trembling a bit at the time.

With the Time Remaining

I turned 50 this month. That's a full half of a century (and it's not easy to find a use for the term "full half", so I have to milk it). Based on statistics, more than half of my life is behind me and less than half lies ahead. What have I done with it and where do I go from here?



I know one thing: I don't have much time left. Even if I have another 50 ahead of me, with hopefully 25 being ones of reasonable health and full control over my mental and biological functions, that's not much time. Not in the big scheme of things. Not when you step back a few generations and look at how minor the blip of our individual lives are when taken on the whole. My span is nothing in the scope of known civilization. The mark I leave feels as insignificant as a tear hitting the pavement during a monsoon.



I never used to dwell on or think about life, death, and the time between the two. I was relatively carefree, confident, and unconcerned with the eventuality of my own demise. Then I got married, and then I had kids, and then I got old. Or perhaps I just got old. Or did I get wise, which I hear comes with age. However it happened, though, I started looking ahead down a road stretching over the horizon with a much stronger awareness of the fact that the pavement will only go so far. And either at a snails pace or out of nowhere, I'll find myself at a dead end. Literally.



One of the things that has started to happen for me and that I am quite grateful about has been an increasing appreciation of life, friends, my family and my circumstances. When I think about history and all of the horrific circumstances and times I could have been born, or when i think about the geographic or political/sociological climates into which I might have been raised, I'm stunned to be able to have the opportunities I have. Including the opportunity to sit and write about something as self-absorbed as turning 50, when so many other situations might have prevented me from even making it past 5.



I have made some significant changes this past year, mentally and physically, that has helped me get into what I think is a "better place" for entering the latter half of my years. I have new ideas, priorities, and intentions for the years that lie ahead. And I have more confidence in my potential to turn these into realities and to shape my life, and the lives of my loved ones, family and friends, in ways that help promote their happiness and success as well.



I just have to turn intent into action. I have to focus, stay conscious, stay thoughtful and stay on track.



I have a challenge before me.

Turning 50, Every Day

I was discussing turning 50 with a friend recently, and I mentioned making plans to mark the event and efforts I’d made to reach some personal goals and milestones. Out of the blue he asked the pointed and direct question “Are you having trouble with turning 50?”. It took me off guard. I answered “no” and quickly tossed out a few generalized justifications and disclaimers as to the focus I’ve put on it of late.



The truth is that I am. That bastard. I hate it when somebody calls me on something I’ve not called myself on already. And he nailed it.



It was only after the question was raised that I started thinking it through, and coming to that very conclusion. I am having a hard time turning 50.



I’m putting significant energy into marking the occasion as the milestone it is, a half-century, but it does have an impact on me at a deeper level. I honestly think it should, and I think that it’s good that it is, because how I face and approach the years ahead can only be positively influenced by a little introspection, no matter how unwelcome it might feel.



I have been alive for 50 years now. Fifty. And unlike reaching 40, or even 45 with an aggressive degree of optimism, I’ve effectively lived over half my life. I’m over the hump. I’m on the ‘downside’. In all reality, the statical probability that I’ll see 100 is thin. I’ll try, though, for sure. In fact, I’ll likely die trying. And that’s where it gets uncomfortable. Acknowledging that there’s less road ahead then that which has been traveled on so far. Consciously realizing that it’s all going to end at some point and knowing that you can’t prevent that.



Looking at photos of my childhood this week, of my youth and of life until now, one thing really keeps coming to mind. “My life”, as far as that which I had significant control in, really kicked in around 20. Before then, I certainly had my family, my friends, numerous experiences and a few traumas, but until I became an independent adult, I was not really in the driver’s seat. When I look back, I see my time until my 20’s as the time I spent “ramping up” for the life I’d live as an adult. The life I’ve lived until now. The past 30 years.



These have been the years during which I took the wheel. Although I can’t make course corrections in hindsight I can see clearly through the rearview mirror. I made some wrong turns, hit road bumps, and had a fender-bender or two along the way. If I’d been given a better map, driven slower, or spent more time planning out my journey, things might have worked out differently, and who knows where I’d be today. But like most young men I was not a fan of stopping and asking for directions, and there was definitely a thrill to speeding and taking sharp corners. And as I’ve aged, perspective, experience, and responsibility have helped me become a far more responsible driver.



I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect that the next 30, provided I stay healthy in both body and spirit, can and will be years spent continuing on a journey down a road whose surface I’ve become familiar with. I know more now than ever before about routes I want to steer clear of, about where I want to be and the ways I can get there. I also know that there will be a wide range of things to ahead: wonderful and fulfilling adventures and discoveries, as well as painful and challenging things to contend with.



Taking time to consider this reminds me to stay conscious of the opportunities I have to embrace all of the joy and happiness available to me. And there is so much. With my wife, my children, and my own and extended family members. My friends who’ve known me for 30+ years as well as those who’ve known me for less than one. People I’ve lost contact with and friends I have daily interactions with.



I’m reminded to stay conscious of the opportunities I have to be a source of positive and good as well. The way I interact with my wife and kids clearly makes all the difference in their lives as well as in my own. The approach I take to colleagues or direct reports in my workday. The time I take to just reach out and acknowledge a friend as such. The way I interact with somebody merging onto the road alongside me.



Turning 50 feels like the appropriate point to reflect on what’s important to me so I can stay on course.



Maybe I should start turning 50 every day.