Who knew that the road to Utopia is littered with lollipop wrappers and dead unicorns. This is one of the times that only the coarsest imagery can convey the reality of living a paradox; that freedom can best be found when we let go of our lost treasure, when we suspend our failed efforts to obtain what we once pursued, and we boldly embrace the unknown and unimaginable.
Owning our Story
Those of us in the club at some point, had to decide if, when, and to whom, we tell our secret. Some of us were able to control the timing, however, for many others, that decision was made for them. Maybe it was a tremor or fall that caught the attention of someone outside of their inner circle, and now feel compelled to explain to those outside of the walls they have built for their protection.
My family and I have differing perspectives when it comes to the intrinsic value of all-things Zuckerberg. I tend to think of it more in terms of the way the Wonder Pup understands television — why bother; it’s not real. Do I really need to know what the friend of a third-cousin ordered at Steak-n-Shake last night? A steady diet of such revelations might leave me to believe that everyone is vacationing in exotic locales, eating at the finest restaurants or attending band camp. Why should I let the thought police and algorithms deployed by Zuckerberg decide who are my friends and what content they see?
Nonetheless, our story is told whether we tell it or we allow others to advance their rendition. Who better than you can tell your story?
Protecting Our Story
Sharing our story is not for the thin-skinned or weak-kneed. It will come with risks, and we will pay the price. It wasn’t all that long ago that someone took it upon themselves to share something I had told them in strict confidence. Then in a feeble attempt to stroke her ego, she fabricated a version that was slanderous, demeaning, and just plain wrong. Imagine my surprise that I learned while sitting in a meeting that I was suffering from a condition that I was not. Fortunately, I have access to those in the medical community whom I trust that took issue with this faux practitioner’s assessment and reassured me that was not the case. What was one person’s attempt to denigrate and malign now offers me an opportunity that is making my financial advisor salivate.
We can’t sit idly by, while those who do not have our best interest in mind, spread rumors and innuendo. It is our legacy that is on the line. To adopt a line from my alma mater, “What will you fight for?” If not you, then who.
Living our Story
Whether we choose to make our story public or we strive to keep it private, ultimately we will live out our story every day where others live out theirs. Our worlds are destined to collide, and our stories will become intertwined in ways that would make George Costanza cringe. We can’t become a person that we are not while we are waiting in an elevator, sitting in an interview, or having coffee with a friend. It takes more to become an Architect than just saying that we are one.
Our story will take on a life of its own. Those with whom we interact will retell the snippets that they find interesting, entertaining or salacious and not necessarily the ones we prefer to be shared. Nonetheless, by living and doing life with those we admire, we trust and will hold us accountable, our story over time will come to life and our true selves will be on display for the world to see. Together, we will celebrate our victories, and we will extend grace and be granted forgiveness when we stumble and fall.
So what do you want to do with your story? To leverage the tag-line from a once-mighty but now confused and soul-less shoe company, Just live it!
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Ivy, those aren’t dog treats in the closet — that’s where I keep my skeletons. I want them nearby in case I go into business making athletic shoes.
Al and his faithful, but consumer-savvy sidekick, Ivy the Wonder Pup.
I don’t know if Nike makes shoes for dogs, Ivy. Apparently, that will depend on Kaepernick. He seems more like a chameleon than a dog person.