I’ve said before that more opinions and bullshit are traded into and out of our day to day lives than anything else, but recently I have been struck by a sudden sense of jealousy, sadness and urgency around one thing that I possess – or at least occasionally possess.
Some may have noticed that I’ve been away from my blog for a little while – in short, we have dealt with a few bouts of sickness; the type that seems to do circles through the house for weeks at a time. Then an annual family vacation – the kind that never goes for long enough and always leaves you more tired than before. Oh and then a return of the sickness, plus finding out we have another baby on the way, then returning to a relentless and hectic work schedule that drains one of all creative thought and endeavour.
Some may have noticed that I’ve been away from my blog for a little while – in short, we have dealt with a few bouts of sickness; the type that seems to do circles through the house for weeks at a time. Then an annual family vacation – the kind that never goes for long enough and always leaves you more tired than before. Oh and then a return of the sickness, plus finding out we have another baby on the way, then returning to a relentless and hectic work schedule that drains one of all creative thought and endeavour.
Its nice to be back though. I’m sitting on a plane on a Sunday night making my way interstate for what will be a week of flying, hotel rooms, meetings and computer screens. My 20 week pregnant wife is at home with our other child who has recently learnt that it’s not enough to merely say words as you learn them, but that you need to repeat them ever-more loudly until someone confirms that you have in fact said that word. “Car” he says on the way to the supermarket for groceries. My wife and I continue our conversation, building the usual list of items we must remember, knowing something important is probably going to be missed anyway...
“Car”.
“CAR”. “CAR CAR CAR CAR CAR CAR”
“Yes son. Car”
“Bike”…
He has also taken to calling out his bodily functions. I worry about the day he will announce the arrival of a ripper butt-burp in church on a Sunday morning.
They say that when you have children, the days are long but the years are short. Which brings me back to this recent sense of frustrated, jealous urgency I have been experiencing.
Time has been on my mind.
“Car”.
“CAR”. “CAR CAR CAR CAR CAR CAR”
“Yes son. Car”
“Bike”…
He has also taken to calling out his bodily functions. I worry about the day he will announce the arrival of a ripper butt-burp in church on a Sunday morning.
They say that when you have children, the days are long but the years are short. Which brings me back to this recent sense of frustrated, jealous urgency I have been experiencing.
Time has been on my mind.
“Every moment in your life is a compromise” – My Dad
While on our holiday, I managed to find some solo time with my old man. Even though he was on holiday, he was still handling final preparations for bringing a big client on board with the business he had launched about a year ago. Between sips of whisky sitting on the balcony and long silences listening to the waves crashing on the beach below the holiday house we had rented for the week; then the occasional phone call or random visit from my 18 month old to make sure I was still there, we talked about what all old men eventually talk about after afew drinks.
Time.
As migrants to a new country in the 80’s, my parents have never been strangers to work. I vaguely remember them both working 2 jobs when I was a kid, or bringing me along to help work on a house they were trying to flip, or jumping into a truck with the old man for an 18 hour day hauling whitegoods when one of the regular drivers called in sick. In short, I have always known my father and mother as the kind of people that both worked their arses off to try and provide anything above the bare essentials for their children. Now as adults, we have all had the opportunity to study and work, in turn creating families of our own.
When we got to talking about the pressures of life and family, my Father always steered the conversation towards the ceaseless search for opportunity in what limited time we have. I always found myself steering towards discussion about family. Then suddenly, there it was. The words we had both been searching for, from the mouth of the wiser. “Every moment in your life is a compromise”.
For my Dad, a hungering for a life without the endless carousel of work and home. To dream bigger dreams and retire without fear. He seemed to search back for a way to re-state his previous comment, then said nothing.
I felt myself realise for the first time that for every moment my father had chased his dreams, his passions, his love for family and his wish for their security, there had been a compromise elsewhere.
Time.
As migrants to a new country in the 80’s, my parents have never been strangers to work. I vaguely remember them both working 2 jobs when I was a kid, or bringing me along to help work on a house they were trying to flip, or jumping into a truck with the old man for an 18 hour day hauling whitegoods when one of the regular drivers called in sick. In short, I have always known my father and mother as the kind of people that both worked their arses off to try and provide anything above the bare essentials for their children. Now as adults, we have all had the opportunity to study and work, in turn creating families of our own.
When we got to talking about the pressures of life and family, my Father always steered the conversation towards the ceaseless search for opportunity in what limited time we have. I always found myself steering towards discussion about family. Then suddenly, there it was. The words we had both been searching for, from the mouth of the wiser. “Every moment in your life is a compromise”.
For my Dad, a hungering for a life without the endless carousel of work and home. To dream bigger dreams and retire without fear. He seemed to search back for a way to re-state his previous comment, then said nothing.
I felt myself realise for the first time that for every moment my father had chased his dreams, his passions, his love for family and his wish for their security, there had been a compromise elsewhere.
"...someone, somewhere, has compromised something that I already have, in order to have what I want." - Me
As a somewhat typical working geek I often spend much of my time reading articles and blogs or listening to podcasts (nerdy, right?) about business, entrepreneurial ventures, self-improvement, leadership and success.
In the pursuit of a life better lived, of opportunities taken and the great aversion to failure or risk; one can overlook the idea that someone, somewhere, has compromised something that I already have, in order to have what I want.
It’s quite a thought isn’t it? The person burning the candle at both ends to go from a Thought-leader to a 10x’er will likely not have the privilege(?) of sitting on the rug with their kids making fart jokes at 7 o’clock on a Tuesday night. The student throwing hours and hours at exam prep and accelerated courses to finally nail that post-grad probably isn’t spooning their wife (or doing the back-pack/reverse spoon) on a lazy Sunday night.
The levelling force in all ambitions and hopes seems to be time – at least to me. I wonder about what moments I have compromised in the wrong way, or what I will remember as the great milestones where my compromises were rewarded with a life still intact.
I will admit to you all that right now I’m tired, exhausted even. I have no new advice or sagely wisdom to share beyond the throwaway comment from my father on holiday.
Next week I will come back with the second post I’m working on - another thought regarding time; this one from one of my mentors – but for now, I would love to hear your thoughts about time and compromise. By all means leave a comment on here or on the Facebook page, I will make sure to get to it.
In the pursuit of a life better lived, of opportunities taken and the great aversion to failure or risk; one can overlook the idea that someone, somewhere, has compromised something that I already have, in order to have what I want.
It’s quite a thought isn’t it? The person burning the candle at both ends to go from a Thought-leader to a 10x’er will likely not have the privilege(?) of sitting on the rug with their kids making fart jokes at 7 o’clock on a Tuesday night. The student throwing hours and hours at exam prep and accelerated courses to finally nail that post-grad probably isn’t spooning their wife (or doing the back-pack/reverse spoon) on a lazy Sunday night.
The levelling force in all ambitions and hopes seems to be time – at least to me. I wonder about what moments I have compromised in the wrong way, or what I will remember as the great milestones where my compromises were rewarded with a life still intact.
I will admit to you all that right now I’m tired, exhausted even. I have no new advice or sagely wisdom to share beyond the throwaway comment from my father on holiday.
Next week I will come back with the second post I’m working on - another thought regarding time; this one from one of my mentors – but for now, I would love to hear your thoughts about time and compromise. By all means leave a comment on here or on the Facebook page, I will make sure to get to it.
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