Musings

Be bold and be brave. Crawl out of your cave. You built it to shelter you from yourself, anyway. Dare to be seen in the light. Nobody will see you until you stand up to be seen.

Turn your head to the sky. Don’t turn a blind eye to the endless sky above you. Prepare yourself now to give flight. The time to travel to another place is now.

Power comes from within. You will never find it outside of you. You may rely on others to help you along your path, but the energy to move your muscles comes from some unseen place past your flesh and deep inside of you being. Call it what you will, but it is simply the Source of it all.

Shake it off…shake off the fear, the trepidation, the uncertainty. Most importantly, shed off whatever it is that makes you fall back to the comfortable, unproductive rhythm that got you into that cave to begin with.

Be bold and be brave.

Do something different.

When I was in elementary school, my father caught me breaking up with a girl on behalf of her boyfriend, one of my best friends. I was dumping by proxy. He told me something I never forgot: “Don’t do anyone’s dirty work for them; make them soil their own hands. And let THEM live with what happens next.” He waited a moment, and, more gently said, “Son, sometimes what you say is just as important as HOW you say it.” Superficially, I didn’t quite understand what he meant, but there was a much deeper part of me that hung tight to that nugget of wisdom.

At the age of 36, I completely get what my father wanted me to understand. He wanted me to understand that we must own our thoughts, own our expression of those thoughts, and own the consequences. I think that latter part is the most compelling: own the consequences of your words and your actions. Be accountable…no, TAKE accountability. Actively take accountability for what you say and what you do. And take accountability for how you deliver your message. In the end, that will most often be what stays with others.

So, for me there is only one answer. I do not believe that the circumstances matter. I do not believe that emotions matter. I do not believe that the story I craft to justify my very bad behavior matters. These are all matters of the ego, not of the soul. I believe that when I speak, I should be giving voice to what is in my soul. And in my soul there is nothing but oneness with the Universe. To me, the message should always come from that place, and there is only one way to get that message across:

Say It with Love.

The other day I posted a comment about not living up to my potential. This comment elicited a response from my parents. They said that none of us really live up to our full potential. That reply to my post struck me. Perhaps it’s true. We all fall short of fully becoming the most supreme “us” that we can be. That shouldn’t be surprising. It makes sense, really. I can’t believe I hadn’t perceived it this way before.

Years ago, a wise person I knew told me, “As you get older, your have to become more mentally healthy. Life only gets trickier, so what you do to get by today probably won’t cut it tomorrow. You have to get better at it.” Most people you meet only grow at a rate that allows them to keep pace with the increasing complexity of their lives. It takes deep, personal growth and the cultivation of an increasingly healthy mental and emotional state to actually make progress in life. Without energy focused on personal growth, we are bound to be overwhelmed by the tidal wave of mounting pressures that face us as adulthood and responsibility expand. All it takes to ride that wave to shore, however, is one thing: focus. Focus, my friends. Focus.

And what does focus look like? Well, that depends. Focus is a very personal thing. It will and should be something that speaks to us all individual. It’s a personal revelation about where we need our energy to be channeled. It is “strength” the way someone like Marcus Buckingham describes it: that which gives you power, energy, to exist throughout the day. For instance, focus can mean a commitment to self-reflection, to self-analysis. It can mean a commitment to taking the fruits of that meditation and putting it into words, for the benefit of that individual and the benefit of those who may read those words. Kind of like someone would do with a journal or a blog. For example.

Focus can bring us one step closer to enlightenment. If the goal is something less lofty, then focus can at least lead to progress. And progress is a satisfying thing. If my friend was right, then progress means getting better at dealing with Life, with a capital. With progress, then, we can expect a greater degree of mental and spiritual health. As we get healthier, our ability to positively influence the world should increase. So, the bar continually gets raised.

It is true that none of us live up to our true potential because our true potential will grow as we grow. It should be a moving target. Our aspirations, by definition, will always exceed our abilities. And that is as it should be. From the day we are born until the day we die, every one of us will have that to wake up to.

Potential.

My kids either teach me directly or are the conduits for lessons that the Universe sees fit to send my way.

My little guy still poops in pull-ups. He has daytime pull-ups and nighttime pull-ups. The daytime ones are used for pooping. The nighttime ones are used as security whilst we all sleep the wee-hours of the night away. Many nights, he’ll wake me so he can pee. Some mornings he’ll wake up dry and pee as soon as he gets up. Other mornings it’s clear that he chose not to wait. This is simply how it goes.

Tonight, we were watching his older brother playing Mario Kart Wii. The little guy walked up with a daytime pull-up and said, “I have to poop.” Engrossed, both went through the routine: pants down, pull-up on, and off to his private corner to poop. We both watched the older guy displaying mastery of the circuit, racing around the track, weaving in and out of his adversaries and their many super-charged attacks. Time passed, and all indications of a successful poop became evident. So, off we went to change into jammies.

Imagine my horror when, upon pulling off his pull-ups, I saw a pair of Nemo underwear. They were soaking wet and…well…unclean. “Ethan!” I exclaimed. “You pooped in your underwear!” “WHAT?!?” he gasped. We were both utterly shocked. Details from this point on matter little. My son forgave me (his words), but the message in his eyes was clear: idiot. Yes, Dad is an idiot.

Tonight, I failed to be present. I failed to be in the moment. I should have flowed from full attention to Mario Kart to full attention to my little son, dependent on me to navigate the tricky task of removing pants and underwear, replacing with pull-up, and facilitating pooping. I botched it because I failed to move from one moment to the next, being present for one as much as the other. In the process, I managed to make us one pair of Nemo undies short. Later in the evening, Mommy came home, and I did it again. Nothing to do with poop this time, but I failed to successfully and completely move from one moment to the next. I failed to be present. I guess I don’t always get my lessons the first time.

The Universe works in mysterious ways, and often my kids serve as unwitting teachers. My wife often plays tutor. Sometimes, I’m all over the lesson. Other times…not so much. Like the one about being present.

So, the little guy was up at 4:00 AM, yelling my name. I heard him through the monitor. It’s a two-way deal, so I can talk to him through it. I asked what he wanted. Very matter-of-factly, he let me know he had to pee. That’s a positive when you’re at the tail-end of potty training, so I mustered up some gratitude for his progress and went to help him to the bathroom. He’s so chipper at 4:00 AM; it chaps my ass. His irresistible cuteness kicks in, though, and I just wind up smiling stupidly at him as he stands there trying to take care of business. He smiles back, every time.

Last night was no different. He did his thing, I took him back to bed, and his eyes were rolling back in his head before I left his room. Out. Me, on the other hand…well, I went back to bed and couldn’t find sleep. It eluded me, so my mind started processing. Saturday evening, I watched a recent episode of Oprah’s show on our TiVo. Suze Orman was the guest, and she was laying it out: what you need to do in 2009 to survive the economic downturn. If you thought last year was nutty, wait until people start DEALING with what went nutty last year. That’s what’s in store for 2009. So, Suze Orman wrote a book, an action plan for 2009. Seriously, it’s a book specifically written to help people get their financial houses in order in the year 2009. You can get it for free until January 15th. Check it out at Oprah.com/download. The whole point of the book and the show was to help give anyone willing to listen a plan for reducing debt and increasing their long-term financial security. The show left an impression on me and got some wheels turning.

Listening to Suze, contemplating the US economy, seriously considering consumerism, and stuff like that lead me to the conclusion that this whole system is screwed up. The U.S. Government actually encourages people to go out and spend money…that they don’t have. Huh? You want people to work their butts off making minimum wage, barely make enough to stay above the Poverty Level, and then run out with their “discretionary” cash and buy crap they really don’t need to survive. I am sure that the $200 XBox will definitely have a HUGE positive impact on the quality of life of that household making the $40K a year. Forget that their health care costs are through the roof and that they have no savings in the event of an unforeseen personal crisis. I know, I know: self-accountability. I get that. It’s all about choices, that is true. Still, the pressure to consume is incredible, the onslaught relentless. We should live in a world where you have to fight against pressure to buy, buy, buy. But that’s the engine that turns the world.

I think about it this way: imagine two companies, Company A and Company B. People work for Company A. They make Doodads. They churn them out and earn their wages. People work for Company B. They make Doomahakies. They churn them out and earn their wages. Marketing people at both companies convince everyone their lives are incomplete without Doodads and Doomahakies, neither of which are essential for life. So, people from Company A spend their left over pennies on Doomahakies, and people from Company B spend their left over pennies on Doodads. Both companies are profitable, people get paid, and life goes on. And on and on and on. As the machine chugs along, what progress is made? People are running to stand still, sweating to make money that we are encouraged over and over again to spend.

Spending is the measure of a healthy economy, so that means things are at their best when people are in a never-ending cycle of acquisition. That means we should be working our wholes lives to we can constantly buy stuff, and we should plan on having hordes of cash for retirement so that we can continue to spend money until we die. That’s how we keep the World Economy strong. How utterly depressing. Ba-a-ah! I feel like a sheep.

I fell asleep before I could conjure up a brilliant solution. I woke up not wanting to contribute to the World Economy. I am a bad Global Citizen! Bad Global Citizen!

Some days are just tougher than others. They aren’t all fun and games all of the time. That’s OK. They can’t all be good.

Or can they?

Even bad days are good days. After all, if you make it to 11:40 at night and have time to write down a few thoughts, then things can’t be all that bad, can they? Besides, the rough spots turn into smooth spots. The rough spots enhance appreciation of the smooth spots. So, nothing is wholly bad.

Like today. There are no horror stories for the day, just some rough spots. That said, we managed to get a few things done that might not otherwise have been completed. That’s good; it’s always nice to cross something off of the “to do list.” More importantly, being able to sit here and write makes me appreciate the life I have. I am grateful.

I have learned that gratitude today turns into abundance tomorrow. You can’t have one without the other. Just being alive to experience all of the pleasure and all of the pain is reason enough to wake up the next morning. It’s worth it just to see what will happen next.

There is always something good around the corner.

Woo (wU): Matters of a spiritual nature, often inexplicable.
Woo-woo (wU-wU: Of or pertaining to woo.

“Woo” begins in the home. It is learned at an early age. I hold my mother responsible for teaching me woo. She is a very spiritual person. My father calls her a saint. My mom doesn’t like that characterization, understandably. She may not be a saint, but she is definitely a woman who does her best to live by her spiritual principles. In that regard, she is really quite special. The thing that impresses me the most about her, though, is her humility towards her spirituality. For her, it simply is the way to be.

These are things that you pick up as a child. As you age…notice I don’t say “mature;” that comes later…the lesson sticks with you. Why? Simple: leading by example is the single-most powerful learning mechanism for children. What children see at home, they model outside the home. Keep that in mind the next time you cuss somebody out on the road and hear your expletives repeated back at you, contextually appropriate, a few hours later. Try explaining THAT to your wife. Hypothetically speaking.

So, by simply and genuinely being a spiritual person, my mother showed me the beginning of a path towards spiritual enlightenment. It’s a long path; I have traveled far and will travel farther still. As I look towards the horizon, I see a startling light ahead. As I look back to the beginning of my path, I see another radiance: my mother, the Font of Woo.

I posted this in a private Ning group back in August 2008, but I stumbled across it today. It makes me chuckle every time. I have to shake my head at how insistent some people are on painting others into corners by attaching labels and assigning categories to them. Interestingly, this post indirectly has to do with many of you who might read this, the friends and family I had around me when I lived in Mexico City. Some of the language is tongue-in-cheek, so I hope nobody gets pissed at me. Just know that my memories of you are as individuals who contributed to the beautiful, full experience of my life, not nationalities, ethnicities, or other such corner-painting language…like Mexican. 😉

—-Originally posted on August 18, 2008—-

At the risk of offending someone, I have a few thoughts to share.

The hardest part about being Mexican is that I am not Mexican. I mean, I like Mexicans. I love Mexico. I lived there for 11 years, between the ages of 7 and 18. Mexico holds a spot in my heart that few other places do. I don’t have a problem with Mexico. The issue lies in the fact that the people I meet and the people who see my name on a piece of paper don’t know that I’m not Mexican. All they know is that my last name is Gonzalez, therefore, I must be Mexican.

But I’m not Mexican. I’m Puerto Rican. More accurately, I am an American citizen whose mother was born in Puerto Rico. My dad was born in New York City. His parents came from Puerto Rico. So, if I have to label myself, I call myself a Puerto Rican. There, I have a label. Now everyone can go about the business of reshuffling their expectations of me. Because, after all, Mexicans and Puerto Ricans are very different.

The problem, though, is that I kinda am Mexican. I lived in Mexico for a long time, when I was really young, during those formative years. I learned to speak Spanish like a Mexican. Any Puerto Rican I talk to will tell you that I’m Mexican because of the way I speak, the words I choose. But any Mexican I talk to will tell you that I have a funny accent, like I’m Italian or something. People I met when I moved to Illinois to go to college used to assume I was Italian. A guy on my floor my freshman year at the UIUC said, upon learning that I was Puerto Rican, “Dude, I thought you were Italian! I didn’t know you spoke Mexican.” Mexican isn’t a language. Maybe he thought that I spoke ancient Aztec or Mexica (pronounced me-SHEE-ka) as the language is called. I don’t. I do speak Italian, but that’s just because I thought it was easier than French. I speak a little French, too, but don’t let me fool you into thinking that I’m poly-lingual. I’m not. I just look and sound like I should be. Ricardo Antonio Gonzalez: Puerto Rican, lived in Mexico, speaks Spanish and Italian, can fake French, and looks like he’s Italian or something. Do you see how confusing this gets?

My point? Well, this is the rant I promised in my last posting: anointing people with titles. Titles are just labels. We place a lot of emphasis and importance on titles. Sometimes it’s warranted: the guy that I go to who has the title “Doctor” pretty much has earned his title. So, I assume he knows what he’s doing. Assumptions about title hold true in business just as much as they do in any other aspect of life. As a Manager, I am one thing. As a Leader, I am another. Either way, the Corporation has given me “the juice” by way of my title. So, people are forced to listen. That doesn’t mean that I’ll change hearts or minds by title alone, but it does mean I get the floor…unless there’s someone in the room with more juice. Then I’m forced to prostrate before them. But what about the brilliant guy in the corner who doesn’t have the juice, therefore doesn’t have the opportunity to truly be heard, because he lacks the title? We miss out on brilliance all the time, simply because there’s a title missing. No title, no juice, so they must not have worthwhile ideas. Unless they are Mexican.

Those guys are really smart.

I’m one of those people who hasn’t always felt that they live up to their full potential. At minimum, I’m one of those people who really, really just wants to be a better me. Sometimes, stuff gets in the way. Most of it is self-sabotage. Other times, I find myself buying into something someone else may have said about me or done to me. Worse yet, there are times when I talk myself into believing that something is going on when nothing at all IS going on. That’s more self-delusion, I think.

Regardless, the most important remedy to such situations is to allow my true self to enter into and be fully present in the moment. If I can reconnect with the realization that I am consciousness observing the moment, then the emotion passes, and I can see the moment with more clarity. Emotion is useful; there is a great deal of wisdom and intelligence inherent in our emotions. The idea is not to suppress them. Instead, the idea is to objectively observe the emotion, feel the emotion, then utilize the emotion. The most important thing is to never let the emotion rule the moment. Things can get messy at that point.

I can be a better me. Even if I miss the mark this time, there is always hope…hope that I will hit it next time. Can’t beat the hope out of me.