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Carpe Diem Obsessions
For most of my working life, I've felt like the youngest person in the room, on the team, on the committee, or in the discussion. I'm keenly aware of that feeling now, because it stands in stark relief to another reality: I'm now counted among the old guard. My novelty left some time ago.
As a young turk, when I'd speak, those "elders" who brought more experience to the moment than I did would occasionally roll their eyes in exasperation, stare at the floor in boredom, or respond in patient tones (sometimes forced) to what I had to say.
My sincerity didn't matter. Neither did my commitment - passionate or otherwise. My words bothered them and when I became aware of this, I felt confused and occasionally stung by it.
When I'd listen - and I didn't listen nearly enough - I learned that most of my observations and opinions had escaped their own lips years ago. My talking was a déja vu moment for those who were senior to me. That same fire had roared in their bellies, those same observations had rattled around in their consciousness, and the same cocky sureness of mind and foot had characterized their declarations.
But, as elder pros, they had learned something that I hadn't yet encountered: transforming one's passion and conviction into results is exhausting. When I was younger, the heady exuberance that possibility and opportunity brings on was like some drug. But living through the slow, tedious plodding of getting things done, well that's something else again. It's fertile ground for disenchantment. Exhaustion can make one look lazy and old when one is simply tired out from one's carpe diem obsessions.
So how have I learned that I've joined the old guard? Is it because I'm tired or look lazy? Perhaps. But there is a more telling sign - at least to me.
Today, when I sit in rooms among my professional colleagues, and listen to the young turks in the room, I hear my own passions and convictions riding high on their voices. Sometimes I feel jealous. It's like my obsessions and commitments are former lovers who are much happier in the embrace of these younger others.
I know now that the patience that was so generously shown to me by the likes of Jerry Willis, Bill Dawson, and Jay Doty was much harder to summon than I ever realized. I thought that they were impatient with me, but it was much bigger than that. They had been on much more intimate terms with "my ideas" than had I. I think about this now, and I'm embarrassed. How could I have dared?
Last week I was riding up the escalator in the Long Beach Hyatt Hotel. I looked over and across from me on the down escalator was Mickey Rooney. I couldn't help staring. I've always been amazed and fascinated by his talent and vitality.
He shuffled slowly when he walked, but behind his eyes - blazing up from his belly - I could see a bright fire. "How old is he," I wondered? I caught a glimpse of something more than an old movie star who had hoofed, laughed, and barked his way through more fantasies than I will ever know. I saw a warrior. A bright, live spirit.
I loved it. I felt, once again, like the young turk I still aspire to be. I want my commitments to make me younger, more alive, more connected to my colleagues and friends. I want the energy for obsession and I don't want to settle for just listening. I want to go down in action, not in contemplation. Like I'm sure Mickey Rooney will do.
I take my inspiration where I can find it. I take my truths where they are revealed to me. There's still so much possibility and opportunity in the world. I love these carpe diem obsessions, tiring as they may be. They connect me deeply to the world and to the forces that drive it forward - slowly.
Posted on September 13, 2006 11:28 AM | Permalink
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Comments
Neill,
Thanks for the wonderful insight. I take the post to heart as I move into the ranks of the old guard. Going from the “street� to the classroom was a transition to say the least. I do take great comfort in that my years “on the street� will make a difference in the classroom. I see the burning desire in the eyes of the students and this reminds me of the desire I had for my chosen profession. Now that I have moved into the teaching realm of the profession I want to be able to convey to the men and women the ideas and ideals that will make their travel a bit less bumpy than mine may have been. It is important that the “old guard� remember the input from the “rookies� can be full of good information and ideas… and that we too may learn from them and assist in moving their words to action… and that action is worth much more than lip service…
I was very lucky to have a mentor that was not afraid to share with me the rookie… he gave great words of wisdom and was not worried that I was “out to get his job� and would use the information in that way… But when he did leave, I was promoted to his rank and took his position. I called it a natural progression. Many years later when I left the ranks… the gentleman I had mentored took my position and I can say he is doing a fine job. He wears the mantle well as I hoped I did.
The words of my mentor still ring in my ears today… Robert, always remember… to do the right thing at the right time for the right reasons my son and you will satisfy your dreams. To me words well spoken… these are words from the ranks of the Old Guard and words I speak and actions I take to this day.
Again thanks for the post and the insight.
Robert
I suppose I'm one of the not-so-old guard-at-all.
I often find myself in precisely the position that Neill described: always the youngest one at the conference (sometimes the youngest by 20 years), the youngest in the meeting, at the Rotary, on the Board of Directors, etc.
When I reflect on Neill's post, I have to think about what a mentor he has been to me. He and Wendy taught me to dress for success, how to speak authoritatively (practising one's "lecture" voice in a restaurant is quite fun), and most importantly, how to simply have enough confidence to contribute even if surrounded by the Old Guard. Neill and Wendy taught me what it means to be inquisitive and to learn.
After I convinced the board to hire Neill and Wendy, one of the directors said to me, "You know, Shawn, that you'll be getting a $100,000 education working with the Roans..." I could not have learned in school what I learned while working with Neill and Wendy. Thank you!
So there.
Shawn