How My Journey Supports Your Journey
In my first blog post, I made this statement: “I know what it’s like to live a life without purpose, absent clear values: emptiness, directionless, uncertainty, lack of caring.”
I spent decades trying to please others. As a child, teenager, and even into my twenties, my goal was always to please my parents. I was raised by loving upper middle-class parents in Lexington, Kentucky with a sister three years my junior. Projecting the right image was important in my family. I was taught my “Yes sirs” and “No ma’ams,” and to convey happiness when speaking with elders. If I met you at a party and you were my elder, you’d find me dressed in khakis and a blue button down: you would receive a firm handshake, a beaming smile, the most courteous greeting, and an answer that suggested life was grand. I heard constantly that I had the perfect family. I rarely if ever got in trouble.
As I grew up, I found myself making decisions solely to project the best possible image and/or to please my parents:
I followed my father’s path for high school to an elite boarding school attended by the richest of families with classes six days a week and 700 miles from home. It was a constant struggle to fit in, keep up and stay grounded.
For college, my focus was the same. Project the best possible image. I chose the highest caliber school I could get into: Vanderbilt University. It was less about fit or feel, and more that Vanderbilt, a top 20 school — the Harvard of the South — projected a grand image. Uncertain what to study, I chose to major in history, my dad’s college degree.
After college, and following a year at home working with my father, studying stocks for his investment firm, I decided to move to a big city and pursue marketing. This career path stemmed from discussions with my father about being on the other side of the stocks I was studying. It was one thing to read about Disney, Coca-Cola, Gillette, PepsiCo. But wouldn’t it be great to be on the inside of one of those companies building those brands? That’s what we discussed, that’s what I heard, and I followed.
I developed a career in marketing in Chicago...not driven by passion or interests, but from a conversation with my father.
I went to business school because I thought it would help me be a better marketer. It was immensely difficult, particularly for a history major.
Starting in 1999, three years into life in Chicago and amidst a brutal 18-month MBA stint, I felt incomplete. Looking back, I know it was the void of living a life driven not by my own interests, desires and values, but to project an image and please others. I wasn’t truly unhappy: rather, I was a ship without my own rutter.
Ultimately, I began seeing a psychiatrist off and on (mostly on) for the next 14 years. Her message from the start was simple: Happiness is a choice. I fought her on that for 13.5 years. My response was, “No it’s not – fix me."
I lived those 13.5 years uncertain of who I was, not fully committed to developing relationships, or to building my career with passion and purpose. When uncertainty is your prevalent mode, it’s easier to disengage. I did the best I could to do what I’d always done — project an image — but my image was built on a foundation of sadness.
Everything came to a head on a Tuesday in September 2013. A years long addiction to Ambien — that I was hiding from my wife and psychiatrist — caught up to me when my body started to reject the drug. I was wheeled out of my workplace in a dazed stupor and sent by ambulance to the ER. Coupled with years of distance from my marriage, I was at a lifetime low.
Broken, I returned to the same psychiatrist I betrayed by obtaining Ambien from another source — information I withheld from her — and begged for help. Despite the pages long prescription record of my abuse she held in her hand, she graciously agreed to see me under two conditions: No more betrayals, and a short fuse for treatment. In other words, if she didn’t see immediate progress in my state of mind, I would need to seek treatment elsewhere.
I remembered what she had always told me: Happiness is a choice.
Finally, I made that choice: “I'm going to be happy. Now is the time.”
It sounds crazy, but once you choose to see the bright side you invite a new perspective. Suddenly there is more than one filter — there is an invitation to see the world from a different point of view.
Over the ensuing months and years, I made a host of changes and commitments in my life, focusing on the most important areas:
Sleep: I committed to sleeping medication-free.
Marriage: In partnership with my extraordinary wife, I rebuilt my marriage stronger than ever through therapy, commitment and love.
Fatherhood: I recommitted to my children — coaching their sports teams, being fully present at home and prioritizing their place in my life.
Spirituality: I revitalized a long-dormant relationship with God. For years, I had gone through the motions. No more: I was fully present at Mass and joined Bible study groups.
Relationships: I nurtured relationships that were previously on cruise control.
Service: Though helping others was rarely an interest of mine in the past, I started teaching third-grade religious education and donating time at the local senior center.
Fitness: Running, cycling, lifting weights with a trainer — in short, I prioritized my body.
Nutrition: I started reading more about food’s importance to physical and mental health and consistently improved my diet. I’m far from perfect, but my diet reflects a mentality of continuous improvement.
Perhaps second in importance to making a commitment to be happy, I defined my values — the first time I’d ever done so. Frankly, if I’d known then what I know now, this would have been my first step after making my commitment to happiness. In hindsight, leading with values would have accelerated the progress listed above (evolutionary steps that in some cases took years).
There’s a cost to not living in alignment with your values. The world is full of competing values and principles, and if you aren’t clear on your values, you will live in alignment with the values of others. That’s what happened to me.
Living in alignment with my values has led me to become my own man, to seek a life of service to others in a variety of ways. This desire to serve led me to school to become a coach, and it led me to start The Human Journey.
I’ve lived my life both with and without purpose, happiness, and joy. That experience, education, understanding and perspective defines my commitment to serving to you and your journey.
I know what it’s like to veer off track. More importantly, I know how to find the way back. I can help you do the same.