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The sun slowly came up like a faithful friend, distantly approaching.
I wrote this in the quiet morning of New Year’s Day, putting pen to paper while sitting in my car and looking out to the magnificently quiet beaches of Connecticut.
For me, putting thoughts to paper is a catharsis — time I need to soothe the tempests that often burden me. These are notes to myself, but while I do not presume to know you, I hope that some of my thoughts might rest well with you, too. Or, perhaps you might pass this along to someone who might find a moment of quietness and comfort in knowing they are not alone when it comes to fears, doubt, and wondering.
New Year’s Eve brings out so many wishes, hopes, and loud cheeriness. The night is so easily beguiling and infectious; the crowds amass. The elation is a drug that we must take to help us to look with hope to the future. It is as if in this one magic moment, all of the good of the past year will carry forward, while all the rest will be left behind, deleted, cleansed, forgiven, and forgotten.
As the skies lit up with fireworks and the shouts and laughter of the crowd climbed into the air, I could not help but wonder how many in those crowds were heartbroken and afraid for the emptiness of their tomorrows—living a life so lonely, even as they stand wholly surrounded.
Somehow, I feel like some grumbling old fool—but I promise, that is not the case. Yet, in many ways, I dislike the superficiality of the "Happy New Year." What I truly want is the wealth of many good days and memories that I can be grateful for. If I can give this to others in turn, then all the better.
These thoughts bring to mind a lovely Charlie Brown cartoon. In the panels, Charlie and Snoopy sit side-by-side, looking up at the stars.
"We only live once, Snoopy," Charlie Brown says.
Snoopy pauses. "Wrong," he counters. "We only die once. We live every day."
Over the past four years, I feel like I have lived a few lifetimes. I have enjoyed incredible highs and exceptional lows. In summary and this order:
I faced major life events that caused me significant emotional turmoil.
Notwithstanding the above, I founded and launched a Global New Brand Activation Network.
Two people I had trusted deceived me, causing a near-fatal loss of millions of dollars.
My best friend, the light of my life, began fighting a life-threatening illness.
While success has come, the mountains I have had to climb to find it have been cruelly steep. Still, the ground before me often seems deadly, with its ever-prevailing cold swirl of fog intent on forcing a stumble.
But I had to take some benefit from this.
Had I given enough time to process? Did I truly listen to my inner voice? Maybe I could have found other paths, one that would not have prompted others to do me harm. Sometimes, the collective voices of the many are not as powerful as the inner whispering of self.
However, I have found a way to turn that poison into medicine. My past experiences have helped me to reset many things within; the quieter, reflective me has also helped my family to move forward. In the end, they came to understand that their lives did not have to be filled with anger—not when time would take care of everything in the end.
Giving time to time is often the best grace we can discover.
Not so long thereafter (and right in the middle of roaring commercial success), people who I trusted and believed in returned my goodwill by being utterly deceitful. Their actions cost me and many others an awful amount of money.
I wonder how they celebrated the New Year; if they for one moment thought about all the people they injured. I wonder if the word "sorry" even came into their hearts and minds. Alas, I don’t think so, as their subsequent behaviour shows that in the end, it is not what people say, but what they do, that defines the depth of them.
And as if all this were not enough came the news of my beloved. So brave, powerful, unselfish, dignified. She is the light of my life—now fighting to hold together, to continue to live and love her family.
So, no, I have not known a Happy New Year for some time. And yet—I have known fantastic victories and wonderful days, precious islands of calm. I have met amazing people. I am blessed with incredible friends and partners. I am surrounded by love and kindness.
And yet, all too often I have observed, but not seen. This thought reminds me of a beautiful poem by Rudyard Kipling, “The Thousandth Man.” In it, a journeyman tells his fellow traveller that despite all things, he stands eternal in his love and forgiveness.
So why am I committing this to paper? I do so in the hope that it gives me a focus and a reminder.
Yes, I’ve had a reasonably distinguished career. I’ve experienced countless opportunities and have been able to play my part in the story of many successful brands and companies. I am genuinely grateful for that—but I am not thankful for every experience I have had.
I can allow that mix of experiences to fester, or I can use it to the good. All medicine can also be poison. I chose to turn the poison into something that can heal and help me to become a better person, a better leader, a better friend.
What can I do right now? I can—and will—give my thanks for every day.
I will try to do one good thing every day.
I will try to smile for somebody.
I will remember to thank somebody.
I will be thankful for the happier minutes in the hour, no matter how small they may be.
I will continue to take time to understand and embrace "human difference"—not so that I can be intellectually empathetic, but rather lean in. I will do all I can to ensure that those I impact know that I see them—and that I am listening.
No "status quo" will deny me from trying to pivot, fix, and help those less fortunate than me. I know words have power, but actions empower.
I will resist any "man-made rules of engagement"; I will look for the fair, decent, and kind parameters in which to live my life and to allow others to engage with me so that together we can do better.
And all too often, I will fail. I will try to reset and reset, for I am human and thus imperfect.
I don’t know what the next week will bring. But as it comes, I will ensure that even in the dark days, stop, breathe, and consider.
Finally, I will continue each day to look at the little cutting I pasted in a notebook that I carry around. They are the words of Nelson Mandela, one of the finest men I ever had the privilege of meeting, a man who truly knew the power that every day held to conquer years.
May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.
