A long time ago I read a phrase somewhere that said: “May you live every day of your life.” The truth is that we don’t. Sometimes we’re so obsessed with preparing for our future that we forget to enjoy the present, just like those people who spend so much time working on their body and their looks that in the end they enjoy neither their body nor their looks; if anything, they suffer them.
I’ve said many things on this blog, which I try to make more and more personal, looking for the opposite of what other people look for: I don’t want to give the impression that behind these lines there’s a guru of some kind, or a tremendously analytical expert in various subjects. Above all, there’s a flesh-and-blood person, who suffers and has suffered, and who can also go off the rails at times.
A person who has had good teachers, both professionally and personally, probably the best teachers anyone could have. And I’m not going to fall into false modesty either: I’m a disaster at many things, but I’m incredibly good at a few. And that’s why I do those few things.
Although some people won’t believe it, personally I’m not driven by an obsession with money or getting rich. In fact, more than once I’ve told a reader that my goal isn’t to get rich, although it is to achieve a certain financial freedom, something that is getting closer and closer. If I became rich along the way, I wouldn’t turn my back on it either, but let it be clear that I’m less and less able to stand people who are driven only by money.
When my best friend, business partner and professional mother died, I coped as best I could, and I even carried on handling everything I had handled before. After all, that’s what I teach people: to focus on the good things and look only at the reasons that move us forward. To keep going despite life’s hard blows.
But one night I was in a pub, and without thinking I went outside to call Victoria. As I was dialling her number, I realised that no one would pick up. All the memories, battles and good times we’d had together flashed through my mind. And I think it was at that precise moment that I knew none of it was ever coming back. I broke down. Even so, I carried on over the following days, outwardly as if everything were normal, but inside making an effort that was consuming me. I started making bad decisions and handling my own emotions terribly.
Then I asked myself what advice Victoria would give me in this situation. And it was crystal clear.
So I cancelled practically all my professional commitments, left others in the hands of my two “protégées”, and decided to take a few sabbatical weeks. That’s one of the reasons you’ve seen fewer posts over the last few weeks. It hasn’t been 100% holiday, but I have taken quite a load off my shoulders during this time.
I’ve gone back to enjoying the moments that people give you. A philosophy of life I always practised, and that for a while I forgot, both professionally and personally.
The thing is, some of the people who are giving you wonderful moments today might not be here tomorrow. And we’re not talking only about death, because it also applies when relationships end, where some people cling to the loss instead of remembering those wonderful moments and looking for ways to create them with other people. Ultimately, you’re also a creator of moments. In fact, you can be someone else’s “moment”.
In the same way, professionally, even though we should have long-term goals, I’ve preferred to savour each step. I’ve enjoyed every negotiation, every small success. Because a great success is the sum of small successes. Thinking only about the big goal can even cause stress and make us forget that we can enjoy those small moments.
In the end, our job is to do what we have to do now in the best possible way. And, if possible, to enjoy it. If you adopt that philosophy of life on the next call you have to make to a client, at your next meeting, or even over that coffee you’re having with someone you like, you’ll enjoy those small moments, and that will lead you to create many more.
This is a kind of thinking out loud, and also my way of saying that I’m back… more tired, but with a clearer head. What have I missed?
Featured image: WI-Photos, CC0 1.0, via Wikimedia Commons.
