In the past three months, I’ve given talks to
CEO groups in Albany, Banff, Calgary, Chicago, Montreal, Nashville, New York
City, San Diego, Tallahassee, and Toronto. I also spoke at bookstores about my
new book Daunted Courage,
at schools in Nashville and New York City, at The Adventure Cycling
Association’s 40th anniversary
event, at a worldwide gathering at Intel Corporation, and to the entire staff
of U.S. Pharmacopeia, a company that has been around since 1820.
In every CEO workshop and presentation, I’ve
witnessed a common desire and heard the same request. Kindergarteners have
shared this thought with me. So have high school students, teachers, middle
managers and CEOs. Each
person had a unique story and set of experiences, but they had this in common: they wanted to be
more adventurous.
Some people roll their eyes at the word
“adventure,” telling me it’s overused and has lost any real meaning. Perhaps
that’s true. But each of us carries inside the possibility to take abstract
concepts and turn them into meaningful action. Defined as, “willing to take
risks and try out new ideas or experiences,” the word “adventurous” is derived
from the Latin root meaning, “about to arrive” or “[a thing] about to happen.”
Its etymology includes the Old French term meaning, “to risk the loss of.” We
are at our most adventurous when we set out on a journey that may take us to a
place where we risk the loss of something precious to us – our old self,
perhaps?
Being adventurous is being open to your own
possibility for growth. It is about being afraid but continuing anyhow.
When I’ve struggled with the hard stuff of
life – the death of a friend, the breakdown of an intimate relationship, my
body’s fading strength from aging – I’ve sometimes dreamt I was dying. In one
dream, I jumped into a swimming pool to help a dog. As I swam underneath and
tried to push the dog up from below, its paws suddenly locked onto my
shoulders, and the two of us began descending rapidly. Despite struggling
fiercely, I couldn’t escape the downward pressure. I heard the muffled, desperate
voices of people along the edge of the pool screaming at me to swim away from
the dog, but I couldn’t escape. I bent my knees, waiting to hit the bottom of
the pool and propel myself back up, but my feet never reached a foundation. We
descended into the dark watery depths of the bottomless pool, where I felt the
terrifying sensation of drowning.
I awoke breathless, panicked and sweating. As
I pondered the dream, I realized, “Something in me is dying. I must be losing
part of my old self.” It was a disconcerting feeling, a grudging acknowledgment
that change is inevitable and that grief is non-negotiable. But I suspected
that, just ahead, out of view, my new self was waiting around the corner with a
knowing smile.
The CEOs and students I spoke with told me
their own dreams of adventure, but they also frequently cited the obstacles
that were preventing them from taking action – the parent who must care for a
child and therefore puts on hold his own ambitions. The child who wants to
explore her physical limits but has internalized fears projected onto her by
well-meaning adults.
We all want to craft a meaningful life, but
our obligations and external expectations frequently prevent us from truly
living, from following a risky path, from growing to our potential. I want to
tell you: Don't hold back. Listen to the nudge inside. Accept that following
your nudge will come with risks and consequences, but it also promises the
opportunity for the most wonderful growth. I want to say: Dive fearlessly into your
own adventure!
But who knows if that
is the best advice? Who can determine the right path for you? Only you, or the
dog in the pool, or your new self, waiting for you just around the corner.
