Leaving One Shore for Another

Often, the decision to leave what we know, with hopes of finding something we don’t yet know, can be daunting. When it comes to a new vocation or career, a new relationship, a change of scenery, it’s understandable that most of us experience a sense of tangled apprehension. Uncertainty is rarely a reassuring emotion.

However, as Anais Nin once wisely said, "And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

In shorter prose, sometimes it hurts too much to stay, and leaving is the only option.

In my own life, a turning point came when I decided to leave my hometown in Ohio and move to the west coast.


Other than one semester in London, which radically changed my world view, my life consisted of little league, backyard football, Atari at friends’ houses, riding bikes to Dairy Queen and fearing the gym teacher. In High School it was trying to win sporting events, do as little homework as possible and avoid looking girls in the eye. So, it wasn’t as though I’d summer in California or had a relationship to the west coast, in any meaningful way.

Yet it called me, as it does for many who want better weather and a chance at reinvention. And it’s not as though I was suffering in Ohio. I had great friends, a solid foundation. I’m sure there was opportunity, had I bothered to look for it.

So, what was the risk of staying? Numbness. Sameness. No-thing to get excited about. Not because I didn’t love my hometown and everyone in it, but almost because I did. I knew every corner, streetlamp and convenience store (and they knew me) - and I was far too comfortable to be truly happy. (I had a client last week tell me his biggest issue “is that he is comfortable being comfortable.”)

While I didn’t intentionally embrace a "beginner's mindset" in this brave leap west, I realize now, it was the only thing that allowed me to actually take the risk. Some could call it naivete, but it was the things I didn’t know that sprung me out of my midwestern life. I can still see myself dialing numbers and setting up interviews… I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for (or how desperate I might have looked), all I had was a sense of possibility. I didn’t know I “should” have been starstruck or even terrified to meet people like Ari Emanuel. Because I didn’t “know better,” I was able to approach each new situation with openness and curiosity.

Today, when a transition arises, I try to recall the value of a “beginner’s mind” and how it has served me in so many circumstances. Of course, we acquire knowledge along our journeys, and that earned wisdom has a place in everything we do.

But a beginner's mind is more about approaching circumstances with a sense of “I wonder what I don’t know.” Because the truth is, we have no idea what’s coming down the road. I think of it like having a headlamp on in a huge forest. We can see the path in front of us and our immediate surroundings, but there’s a lot of dark, dense pine out there, too.

Beginner’s mind is allowing for a genuine, “I can’t - and don’t - know everything,” attitude to allow new information to come through. Do you think you know when a huge project will land in your lap? Or when a dream client will call? Or when the beginning of a lifelong friendship sits across from you at a dinner party? Of course you don’t.

Beginner’s mind invites us to approach new experiences with openness, curiosity, and a lack of preconceptions. By embodying this mindset, we allow for uncertainty as a strategy, while co-existing with what we do know.

I trusted my intuition when I left Ohio (one shore) for California (another shore), and it led me to a life that surpasses anything I could have imagined. If had known ahead of time exactly what that transition would look like (my first months in LA would be the most humbling, ego-checking days of my life), I might not have taken that leap. Sometimes, it’s best we don’t know.


Another chapter in my own history was when I made the leap from that secure job in entertainment to -? Yes, it was a question mark. I didn’t know what I needed to do or how. All I had was the intuition that it was time to move to a new shore, towards something that combined my unique skills and interests.

Years later, the company I worked for was acquired, and the vision of the new management did not align with my own. Uncertainty loomed before me.

After traveling to DC to visit and meet the new owners of the company, I felt underwhelmed and flat. It was actually that downward beat in my heart that catalyzed something, a percolation that was already brewing - that would become my future.

On the flight back home, I wrote a "Jerry Maguire" memo/mission statement, outlining the life I wanted to lead and the type of company I wanted to be a part of. I sent it to a woman I had met only once before saying, “I turn 40 in 6-months. Help me build something that people will benefit from, something I will find joy in doing.” The note concluded with “What do you think? Are you game? Join me won’t you?” She responded that she had been looking to coach and I was the prototype she had been envisioning. Our minds were blown by the cosmos aligning the way they did and - despite neither of us knowing what the future had in store for us - we embraced the uncertainty and off we went.

This was the first step in a ripple effect that I’ll continue to share in next week’s newsletter. But what I hope to leave you with today is a sense that embracing what you don’t know is a vitally important skill. When we plant seeds, we don’t know exactly when they’ll sprout. Saying “I don’t know” or “I want to learn more about that” creates the space for the sunlight to get in, helping those plants flourish.

Stay tuned for next week’s note where I’ll share exactly what happened when I started working with the woman who would eventually write the New York Times best-selling self-help book, “You Are a Badass.”

Because I was her first Badass.

If these writings resonate (for you or someone you know), check out our 8-week coaching program coming up. Amy Swift Crosby and I have designed two coaching groups for people who are ready to set sail.

One is for young professionals - those of you who are under 40, plugging away - in the midst of your hustle - who suspect there’s a map that might help your journey.

The other is for creative entrepreneurs who are ready to grow, scale or multiply in some way. You’re a veteran business owner or service provider and you’re ready to hit this one out of the park.


Find me here or just reply to this note. Only 6 people per group - so if you’d like a spot - let’s go!

BG


Looking to level up your business, unlock new opportunities, and build stable, sustainable growth?

There’s nothing like the value of a conversation. Let’s talk it through.

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Leaving One Shore to Find Another: Part 2

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Generosity is a Setting