I’ve been thinking a lot lately about doing things that matter. Spending time on things that matter.
Having conversations about—
Helping businesses that—
Meeting people who care about things that—
We spend so much time spinning our wheels. Selling things. Making people believe something different about us and our capabilities than is actually the truth. And in the process, we tend to alienate each other. Our daily interactions become superficial, meaningless. And we wonder why we’re left feeling unfulfilled.
I’ve noticed, lately, a substantial, material reaction in my brain when performing off-screen activities—especially those which stimulate other senses to a large extent. It happens while raking the yard and the brisk fall air chills my skin, and the dirt and leaf crumbs find their way under my sleeves. And it happens while cooking, feeling the texture of the veggies against the board, or clenching a smoking match between my teeth to fight the burn of the onion air.
How might you rearrange your life to do more things that really matter?
Mere words can’t quite express the altogether grateful and humbled high I’m still feeling after a few days back in the States. Travel always changes my perspective on home—but this trip can’t be categorized as simply as “travel.” It was a grand adventure, filled with experiences both grounding and uplifting, humbling and empowering, exciting and maddening. We met friendly, helpful, inspiring people who all changed the course of our trip for the better. We visited some of the most beautiful places in the world—places so many dream of visiting and may never have the chance. For all of that and more, I’m grateful: to Weber Shandwick for allowing me so much time off in the first couple months of employment; to friends and family for the recommendations and encouragement; to my parents and to God for affording me such a rich and blessed life. And more, I’m humbled by so many things: by the size, grandeur and remarkable beauty of the places and people in this world; by all of the things I have yet to learn or understand; and also by pain…despite the beauty and adventure we were experiencing, several friends here at home were enduring their most painful days, losing some of the most important people in their lives to some of the ugliest and most brutal diseases. I wish there were a way to bottle up these feelings for use in the future…an easier way to remember to appreciate the beauty and the pain of the world in order to more fully experience love and loss in our daily lives. Maybe the answer is to have adventures more often. That sounds just fine to me.