Why I Started To Treat My Life Like A Lesson Plan, Not A Google Search

“I feel like I am a spectator in my life, not necessarily engaged but watching”.

This comment came at an unexpected moment. I was sitting with my wife one Saturday morning at an indoor playground watching our kids hurl themselves down inflatable slides and sprint from one bouncy house to another with complete abandon. I admit: It was odd to have this moment of introspection out-loud in the complete chaos of screaming children running everywhere. But with two 9-year olds, you take what you can get.

As the words left my mouth, my wife naturally looked at me with surprise. “Really?” she said. Immediately I wished I’d remained quiet. I felt overwhelmingly vulnerable and like something was wrong with me. Then, with a note of love and concern, she asked, “Why?”

A jumbled mess of words and longing for direction, I began to talk. I had spent the week on my very first “stay-cation.” The beauty of it was that there was no expectation to go explore a new city or engage in a local activity unique to where we were – it was just being home. Being surrounded by familiar things, lots of quiet time and time with friends, I was probably more relaxed than I ever have been on any other vacation.

Looking back on the week, I had the time and space to read at least three books, workout every day, meditate, take naps and immerse myself in play with the kids. This was all ideal, except, it gave me time to think – maybe too much time. I was reminded of Ed Catmull the author of Creativity, Inc. who said of his own journey that he had “lost [his] internal sense of purpose.” I realized that I was in danger of losing mine.

All of a sudden, I found myself wrestling with some pretty big questions: What impact do I want to make in the world? What problem do I want to solve for? How do my talents uniquely qualify me to solve for this? What am I deeply passionate about, and how can I continue to play to my strengths? If I was forced to do only one thing with the rest of my life what would it be?

Like any good consultant and executive, I began to search for the answers by constructing a plan for navigating out of the discomfort. I sought to narrowly define “purpose” as the accomplishments of a 30-year career only and put all other aspects of my life into neat little compartments that served as “supporting characters” to purpose. I struggled at every attempt to reconnect to my purpose to my passion in life. Each attempt I made was dissatisfying and I left the exercise more lost than when I started. The truth was I couldn’t compartmentalize my life and make this a tidy little exercise: I had to either be all in or not. I hated this seeming lack of control and vulnerability.

I recalled Brene Brown’s words: “Vulnerability [is] the willingness to show up and be seen with no guarantee of outcome.” Really? Is there really no way I can logically work my way out of this? I don’t have time for feelings and this wishy-washy stuff! And then her words haunted me again: “We will fill every ounce of white space with something so there’s no room or time for emotion to make itself known.” The ugly truth is if I wanted to find my way back to my purpose, I had to just stay in the emotion, the discomfort and wait.

I have never been a passive observer or spectator in the wait. Armed with the knowledge that something was going on with me, -- maybe the proverbial mid-life crisis -- I began to engage with people, clients, colleagues, my family, everyone differently. I actively began to listen, look and become more curious about life in a very different way and with a sense of purpose itself. I began to invite new people into my life and to be curious about who they were not just what they did for a living. I began to read and listen to talk radio rather than watch a show or listen to music. I played and laughed with my kids, pillow fights, thumb wrestles and Legos. I took time to actually engage with people rather than transact with them around a need, project or agenda.

This change took many forms: Actually taking time to have lunch with a colleague/client rather than eating at my desk answering emails; making a list of those core relationships I wanted to nurture and touching base with two to three people a week to catch up with no-agenda; making a goal of reading a new leadership, business or classic novel while on planes instead of work; committing to having dinner with parents from our kids school who I wanted to know better. In short, I began to treat my life more like a lesson plan rather than a google search.

Greg McKewon writes in his book Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less “If you don’t prioritize your life, someone else will.” I talk to hundreds of executives a year and their calendars all look like mine – they move from meeting to meeting and call to call. The gift of time really only comes when we take our vacations or have the occasional 15 minutes here or there of white space on the calendar to answer emails. We all appear important because we are so busy and in such demand but how much of what we do in our days is truly aimed at our purpose or passion? In the discussions I have had - very little.

At some point when we lose control of our calendars and the choices in how we spend our days we inevitably are moved far away from what McKewon calls our “essential intent,” or purpose. Productivity without purpose feels inauthentic and devoid of inspiration yet we all measure great leadership by these values while at the same time pack more “stuff” in a day than is humanly possible. Great leaders are authentic, inspire and are driven by a sense of purpose. To sustain this requires time, space and curious engagement in our lives, not more meetings or calls.

Much is being written today about mindfulness, work-life balance, the importance of sleep and exercise – all of it intended to help and make us live happier more purposeful lives. But I would submit much of these solutions for a fuller life are just another addition to our “to-do” lists. My experience has been that I needed to give myself permission to take things off the “to-do” so that I could create the space, get the time to connect and engage in my life. My journey has not been about doing something else, it’s been about being truly engaged in my life.