commitment

flashback friday: committed? are you sure?

How committed are you? To your job? To your personal mission? To the things you must accomplish in this life? How committed are you really?

We’re told we should choose a career that we love so much we’d do it even if we didn’t get paid. That’s a pretty high level of commitment and passion right there. We all want to do something we love, something that has meaning for us. But what if what you loved required you to risk incarceration? Death? That necessitated carrying firearms just to get to the job? That still paid almost nothing, if anything at all? That was so outside the norm that you were the only one in the entire country doing it and you were blazing the trail with almost every action?

That’s pretty rough. Let’s up it a little: would you go into exile for your passion? Would you leave friends, family, and everything you knew behind to go be a second-class citizen in another country just so you could “follow your bliss”?

This weekend I watched the 2007 documentary Heavy Metal in Baghdad about Iraq’s first (only?) metal band Acrassicauda and saw a glimpse into what relentless obsession looks like. The movie is a fascinating look at Baghdad in 2005/06. It’s not about soldiers, politicians, ideologies, right, or wrong. It’s not even really about heavy metal. It’s about the struggle of a group of 20-somethings just trying to have a band and make some music against the backdrop of daily life in Baghdad. What would be a normal – mundane, even – activity for college-aged youth in the US becomes a hero’s quest where hopes and dreams wrestle against the hopelessness of daily violence and chaos. They suffer more for their dreams than I could ever go through here.

After watching, I came away wondering how I could up my passion to that level. How can I tap into the human need that’s fueling them to carry on? How can I bring the noise like they do? How can I play that big with the things that are important in my life? How much would I, could I, truly risk?

[This was originally posted July 30, 2012. I just watched the movie again last night and was affected even more strongly than the first time. It’s easy to talk about following my dreams when I am my own biggest roadblock and easy to complain about all my problems and setbacks when I don’t really have any. Time to play bigger.]

committed? are you sure?

How committed are you? To your job? To your personal mission? To the things you must accomplish in this life? How committed are you really?

We’re told we should choose a career that we love so much we’d do it even if we didn’t get paid. That’s a pretty high level of commitment and passion right there. We all want to do something we love, something that has meaning for us. But what if what you loved required you to risk incarceration? Death? That necessitated carrying firearms just to get to the job? That still paid almost nothing, if anything at all? That was so outside the norm that you were the only one in the entire country doing it and you were blazing the trail with almost every action?

That’s pretty rough. Let’s up it a little: would you go into exile for your passion? Would you leave friends, family, and everything you knew behind to go be a second-class citizen in another country just so you could “follow your bliss”?

This weekend I watched the 2007 documentary Heavy Metal in Baghdad about Iraq’s first (only?) metal band Acrassicauda and saw a glimpse into what relentless obsession looks like. The movie is a fascinating look at Baghdad in 2005/06. It’s not about soldiers, politicians, ideologies, right, or wrong. It’s not even really about heavy metal. It’s about the struggle of a group of 20-somethings just trying to have a band and make some music against the backdrop of daily life in Baghdad. What would be a normal – mundane, even – activity for college-aged youth in the US becomes a hero’s quest where hopes and dreams wrestle against the hopelessness of daily violence and chaos.

They suffer more for their dreams than I could ever go through here. I highly recommend the DVD to see the level of commitment they demonstrate.

After watching, I came away wondering how I could up my passion to that level. How can I tap into the human need that’s fueling them to carry on? How can I bring the noise like they do? How can I play that big with the things that are important in my life? How much would I, could I, truly risk?

all or nothing

Three corners in, running in the top five, and a double jump coming up. I hadn’t tried to clear it in practice and was going to roll it, but realized that if anyone behind me went for it they would land on me. Too late, I twisted the throttle, but came up short. The impact from hitting the second jump bounced my motorcycle off the track with me in a handstand over the handlebars. After too many slow motion seconds I augured into the dirt, digging a small trench with my helmet. While I quickly assessed damage, all my competition simply motored away, leaving me behind. Front runner to last place because of a simple lack of commitment.

Ok, not everyone is a motocross fan so let me explain. The example above really did happen and pounded (literally) a lesson into me about commitment. (Don’t worry, I’m getting to the business application.)

Some things we can “sort of” commit to. Or ramp things up just a little bit to test the waters and ease into the pool. Other things require full on cannonball-into-the-pool level of commitment. You can’t ease into it off the diving board. Do or don’t do. A double jump is a series of two jumps just close enough together that you can land on the backside of the second jump. They are also usually close enough that if you don’t jump both you’ll need to take the first jump much slower than normal to be able to safely approach the face of the second jump. So there are really only two safe choices: approach it as a double jump or approach it as two single jumps in a row. There is no in-between; there is no easing up to it. It’s back off and slow down or go for it.

This step up in commitment from small to large with no middle ground shows up in real life. Starting your own business, commission sales, moving from a home business to a regular retail space, becoming a manager, entering new markets, launching new products, starting a family, etc. are all actions that require an intense level of commitment. To do it half-way is to crash horribly, burning up resources without succeeding. They all require full on, full out levels of commitment and the enthusiasm, knowledge, and skill required to clear the gap.

That level of commitment is way outside the comfort zone. With it, you may still crash. Without it, you will definitely crash. A very real danger is that as you approach the moment of truth, there is the chance to hesitate, to back off, get spooked and try to do it half-way.

I’ve seen plenty of racers leave in an ambulance because they committed to something they didn’t have the skill to pull off, so I can’t say that every opportunity is the right opportunity for you to commit to. There is a difference between stretching and being stupid. I can say that in many situations you either have to commit to going slow or commit to going full out. The gap makes going medium far more dangerous than the other options.

At least, that’s what the deep gouges in my helmet suggest.