BY MEN FOR MEN
Making A Difference
by Teichman
A long time had past since I stepped up for a division job. I had always managed to convince myself and others that I was too busy with taking care of my son almost full time and making a living supporting two households. I’m not sure of the exact moment a big shift occurred in my life that opened my eyes to what my real priorities were, but one day an inner voice spoke up something to the effect of, “if not me, then who?”
When I speak of priorities, what I realized is that I’m often confusing what is urgent with what is important. I believe the first time I became aware of this distinction was in a Franklin Covey class I took on creating schedules in an organizer. My default thinking based on anxiety always gravitates to urgent matters; the rent, bills that must be paid, matters that solely pertained to my career and taking care of the household. What else was there? If these things didn’t get handled, then what?
My life seemed to grind on in the rut I created. What I came to realize is that I always landed on my feet, but I never really felt like I was going anywhere. My life felt like an endless cycle of maintenance, always making it, but never feeling like I accomplished anything.
I remember hearing a true story from a friend who was in a near plane crash. The plane must have hit a major air pocket, lost altitude suddenly and dramatically to the point where all the passengers were levitating above their seats. At first he described total pandemonium and panic, but then a calm set over the whole plain as certain doom seemed imminent, and the passengers felt completely powerless.
There was nothing they could “do” about their situation, they could only “be.” In that moment of being, his life flashed before his eyes, and what played before him and became abundantly clear, were the events of his life that held the most importance. This is what people who work in hospices with patients at the end of their lives, also recount. No one has regrets about not working enough and about not making enough money. What we remember is time spent with our loved ones, our parents, grandparents, our first kiss, the first time we got laid, time spent with our wives and our kids. Ironically, what most of us spend so much time worrying about ends up on the cutting room floor.
So what does this all have to do with “stepping up” and volunteering to take care of men? It all has to do with how I spend my time. We only have a limited amount of it, so why not spend it on time that we get to keep, that doesn’t get edited out. What I came to realize is that when I’m engaged in a higher purpose endeavor, or giving myself permission to spend quality time with my son and people I love with actions that matter, I actually have the same amount of time to get the urgent stuff done, (it always gets done anyway,)but I find I spend less time worrying about it.
I’ve come to realize that I’m an expert at arguing for my limitations with Madison Avenue flair. I can spin dramatic stories of how time is scarce and I can’t manage it. The epiphany I recently came into, is the illusory nature of it all. There’s an old adage, “If you want to get something done, find the busiest man to do it.” There’s a reason for this, they’re lubricated with action, not fearful thinking. For me, what is becoming apparent is that what paralyzes me is fear, fear of not having enough. Fear leads to inaction and reinforces the illusion of scarcity and it can be a viscous downward spiral.
The way out for me, is to engage in actions that create meaning, joy and fulfillment. I find when I’m engaged in actions that I know are making a difference in the lives of others, I’m filled with a joy that pushes out the same old anxieties. I’m still up against the same problems, but I’m holding them in a different place. It’s just that there’s so much more that’s important to me than my base survival, and I believe this is what separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom. It’s what gives us the unique ability and desire to co-‐create with God.
For me it manifests as the difference between “loving to win”, and “hating to fail”. The one directs my actions to seek out pleasure, being driven by desire, and the other in the avoidance of pain, driven by fear, which leads to inaction and paralysis. Just surviving is overrated. The saying that rings true to me is “Fear not death, rather fear having never lived,” or, I want to live until I die, not be dead until I stop living. When I’m doing what I love I feel truly alive.
Another unexpected benefit I discovered to engaging in higher purpose work for me, besides setting aside my anxiety of survival, is pushing me through my perfectionism. The view of what a higher purpose was supposed to look like from my armchair always seemed grandiose and unattainable. With being engaged in imperfect action, I find myself fired up with what’s happening in front of me in the moment. Going through what has recently been daily work to get men to and through this upcoming Men’s Weekend, and knowing they will go through profound changes in their lives, fills my heart with a joy beyond any complacent fantasy. I don’t have to wait to be struck with inspiration. It’s all happening right now!
When I speak of priorities, what I realized is that I’m often confusing what is urgent with what is important. I believe the first time I became aware of this distinction was in a Franklin Covey class I took on creating schedules in an organizer. My default thinking based on anxiety always gravitates to urgent matters; the rent, bills that must be paid, matters that solely pertained to my career and taking care of the household. What else was there? If these things didn’t get handled, then what?
My life seemed to grind on in the rut I created. What I came to realize is that I always landed on my feet, but I never really felt like I was going anywhere. My life felt like an endless cycle of maintenance, always making it, but never feeling like I accomplished anything.
I remember hearing a true story from a friend who was in a near plane crash. The plane must have hit a major air pocket, lost altitude suddenly and dramatically to the point where all the passengers were levitating above their seats. At first he described total pandemonium and panic, but then a calm set over the whole plain as certain doom seemed imminent, and the passengers felt completely powerless.
There was nothing they could “do” about their situation, they could only “be.” In that moment of being, his life flashed before his eyes, and what played before him and became abundantly clear, were the events of his life that held the most importance. This is what people who work in hospices with patients at the end of their lives, also recount. No one has regrets about not working enough and about not making enough money. What we remember is time spent with our loved ones, our parents, grandparents, our first kiss, the first time we got laid, time spent with our wives and our kids. Ironically, what most of us spend so much time worrying about ends up on the cutting room floor.
So what does this all have to do with “stepping up” and volunteering to take care of men? It all has to do with how I spend my time. We only have a limited amount of it, so why not spend it on time that we get to keep, that doesn’t get edited out. What I came to realize is that when I’m engaged in a higher purpose endeavor, or giving myself permission to spend quality time with my son and people I love with actions that matter, I actually have the same amount of time to get the urgent stuff done, (it always gets done anyway,)but I find I spend less time worrying about it.
I’ve come to realize that I’m an expert at arguing for my limitations with Madison Avenue flair. I can spin dramatic stories of how time is scarce and I can’t manage it. The epiphany I recently came into, is the illusory nature of it all. There’s an old adage, “If you want to get something done, find the busiest man to do it.” There’s a reason for this, they’re lubricated with action, not fearful thinking. For me, what is becoming apparent is that what paralyzes me is fear, fear of not having enough. Fear leads to inaction and reinforces the illusion of scarcity and it can be a viscous downward spiral.
The way out for me, is to engage in actions that create meaning, joy and fulfillment. I find when I’m engaged in actions that I know are making a difference in the lives of others, I’m filled with a joy that pushes out the same old anxieties. I’m still up against the same problems, but I’m holding them in a different place. It’s just that there’s so much more that’s important to me than my base survival, and I believe this is what separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom. It’s what gives us the unique ability and desire to co-‐create with God.
For me it manifests as the difference between “loving to win”, and “hating to fail”. The one directs my actions to seek out pleasure, being driven by desire, and the other in the avoidance of pain, driven by fear, which leads to inaction and paralysis. Just surviving is overrated. The saying that rings true to me is “Fear not death, rather fear having never lived,” or, I want to live until I die, not be dead until I stop living. When I’m doing what I love I feel truly alive.
Another unexpected benefit I discovered to engaging in higher purpose work for me, besides setting aside my anxiety of survival, is pushing me through my perfectionism. The view of what a higher purpose was supposed to look like from my armchair always seemed grandiose and unattainable. With being engaged in imperfect action, I find myself fired up with what’s happening in front of me in the moment. Going through what has recently been daily work to get men to and through this upcoming Men’s Weekend, and knowing they will go through profound changes in their lives, fills my heart with a joy beyond any complacent fantasy. I don’t have to wait to be struck with inspiration. It’s all happening right now!
