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Tag: storytelling

Search for meaning

The internet gives you many lives. You can write an article once, muster the courage to post it online, become disappointed when it falls flat and goes unshared, resolve to forget about it and write something else. Then one day, you wake up to an inbox of responses and questions as if this was a piece you posted yesterday.

This sometimes happens to me.

Lately, a few of my Medium posts have undergone rebirths, and I’ve found myself answering questions about the search for meaning and joy and life. “Should I go to a monastery?” “Do I need to volunteer in a different country to find myself?” “What advice can you give me to discover my passion?”

I don’t have any answers, really. I know that the answers we often want most are right in front of us. They don’t necessarily require a trip around the world, months spent in solitude, or someone else to show us the way. I wish I could tell you a perfect formula. I wish I had this formula myself three years ago when I first set out for Nepal.

But I think that’s my big secret. I stopped looking.

I was driving myself crazy with these exact same questions. I was browsing the self-help section for career changes, dog-eared my way through What Color Is Your Parachute, and still no answers. My journal was a messy scrawl of ink and tear, I mean, coffee stains when I got on that first plane to Kathmandu. I knew was I was hurting and raw and sick of feeling like crap. I wanted to feel good, both in the world and in my body and make a positive contribution somewhere. And this is how I found myself teaching English to a bunch of rowdy monks.

No, I had no idea I was going to start a Learning House. If you told me I’d spend the next three years of my life in Nepal, I would have laughed. But I did know that giving to others and empowering individuals through education brought me deep satisfaction. In this way, my focus shifted from myself and onto something positive. I stopped questioning and just did.

Meaning found me. I hope it finds you.

3 things I learned starting a social enterprise in Nepal

Yesterday I had the honor of addressing attendees of Skövde Business Week. I presented my experiences founding the Learning House, a center devoted to education, leadership and community in Western Nepal. To hear my full talk, click this link.
I believe “A rising tide lifts all boats.” I don’t think scientific research is needed to show that more educated and competent citizens lead to more talented business recruits who in turn create better, more effective businesses. Getting the tide to rise is the difficult part.
My work has taught me the following:

  1. Travel through life curious.
  2. Extend yourself to another.
  3. Ask questions.

When we become fixed on an end result, we tend to lose beautiful opportunities along the way. Had I not allowed myself to explore Nepal, to be open to promise and potential and brokenness, I would have missed some truly profound moments. Since arriving in 2013, I have seen many volunteers come and go; some are so focused on their defined role as Volunteer Teacher they fail to look beyond designated responsibilities and connect with the people they came to serve in the first place.
We dig trenches around ourselves. They’re deepened by societal roles and professional delegations. Our personal selves and true passions become hidden from colleagues, friends, even our families. The irony is that when we move beyond these lines and reach out to each other, we forge meaningful relationships and experience life more deeply. This is when we win.
Finally, ask questions. Your colleague, your neighbor, your grandmother, your client. Who are they? Where are they going? Can you help? It’s impossible to solve problems and brainstorm solutions without taking time to listen. The most successful companies (and people!) are the ones listening — and they’re shifting, giving, adapting and changing in ways that show they care.

You have something precious

Several months ago I had the pleasure of speaking on the ChapterBe podcast. I talked about how I ended up in Nepal and lessons I’ve learned along the way. It was a great interview, punctuated with street dogs barking in the background.

The podcast highlights stories of people living across the globe who have made a commitment to live authentically, passionately, and with conviction. I was honored to be included.

We all have unique skills and stories that lead us down winding, magical roads. From the moment we wake up until our heads again find rest, our bodies are catapulted across spectacular terrain. Mothers feed families and dream of their children’s futures, fathers are forced to make decisions based upon their own life challenges, sons dare to become better than their parents, and daughters fight to turn dreams into reality.

My point is this: the lessons you’ve learned and the challenges you’ve overcome could help someone else facing a similar predicament. Have the courage to share.

15 links to supercharge your bookmark bar

Mix it up. Read good writing. Read bad writing. Learn something new. Remember something old. Get inspired. A few of my bookmarked favorites (in no particular order):

  1. Alltop
  2. Fast Company
  3. :zenhabits
  4. Brain Pickings
  5. Derek Sivers
  6. Farnam Street
  7. Zig Ziglar
  8. Steven Pressfield
  9. David Lee
  10. McSweeney’s Internet Tendency
  11. Reid Hoffman
  12. Lifehacker
  13. ReadWrite
  14. Lean In
  15. Medium

Being human

Recently I was rejected. I spent a lot of time crafting the perfect letter, re-writing and re-reading and editing the hell out of my argument to compose a convincing, logical, matter-of-fact and to the point submission. I sent in my proposal confidently. The rejection was prompt, and, of course, it stung.

I received a phone call several days later. “You have to explain why YOU want this,” the man instructed, “You have to say why YOU, not anyone else. They didn’t buy it.” I removed too much humanity from my writing, and the panel wasn’t pleased. They didn’t want perfect. They weren’t looking for politically or grammatically correct. They wanted the messy version: gritty, personal, detailed. They wanted human.

I submitted a second letter, this time writing for a friend. I wrote truthfully, about relationships and desire. I mentioned insecurities and inserted myself back onto the page. It worked.

Panels, bosses, review boards and government agencies — yes, they have a pulse, too. This is the place where we connect, where we can build bridges, where we can learn from each other and help ease our suffering.

Let’s not forget our where our commonalities lie. Our hearts beat the same.

“Live a story.”

I saw this written on a climber’s memorial along the trail to Mount Everest. It haunted me as I walked the ridges leading to Base Camp. Mostly, it got me thinking about the story I was telling. I wasn’t sure if the way I was living was leaving a legacy. I certainly wasn’t convinced I’d be missed.
What’s beautiful about stories is they are always changing. Like a river, our lives encounter different obstacles that can reroute our course. If we remain open to possibility, there’s no limit to the chapters to be written.
I’m grateful I found the guts to quit, even when it felt like stepping off a ledge. I made a few bargains with chance and risk, shook hands with disappointment and failure, but I knew it was part of the deal. I did it because I wanted to see what was on the other side.
No, I’m not immune to anxiety and black confusion. I am refusing to let either get the best of me. Instead, I’m clawing my way towards the unexpected, and it’s taking me down paths of problem solving and giving.
Everyone is writing their story as they go. Listen, and share yours.