“You’re a starter. You start things.”
“I finally figured you out. You’re a starter. You start things.”
A few years ago, I had just finished giving my annual talk to the CEO class at a local high school when the mentor told me that. And it stuck with me.
“You’re a starter. You start things.”
At times, it has kind of gnawed at me in contemplation. How many layers can I peel back to understand the core of who I am, and what excites and energizes me and my work?
A rough 6 months
Not many people have known, but I’ve had a really rough six months. Only my wife Suzanne has really seen the depths of it, and God bless her for her love and support through these months.
It started when I was let go, with a handful of others, from Exodus earlier this year. What I had joined in the belief that it was a mission to which I was called had quickly soured. Honestly, within a few months I could tell that it wasn’t going to work long-term, and I was actually relieved when I was let go. But that didn’t make it any easier, since it still feels like it’s a mission that isn’t being led and served as well as it could or should be.
Over the last six months, I’ve wrestled with questioning my vocation as a deacon, considered asking for a leave from my assignment or even from my faculties.
I bought a Tesla. Suzanne joked that it’s my midlife crisis car. I pondered – am I in a mid-life crisis?
Getting through the lows of the last six months has taken a lot of time in spiritual direction, meeting with those in authority over me in the diocese, and with my pastor to reformulate my duties and commitments in the parish.
It’s taken a lot of nights away in prayerful reflection. It’s taken a lot of praying for each other and chats through the group chat of those of us who have left Exodus. It’s taken the love and support of so many around me.
It’s taken the blessing of landing back in a job with a team that I deeply love.
But it’s still been a continued darkness.
A trip to Disney
I started to feel like I was rising out of the clouds and the darkness a couple of months ago when we decided on where to go for our family vacation this year – Walt Disney World in Florida for the week of July 4.
Almost as soon as I booked the trip, my disposition flipped to a more positive, happy one.
Suzanne even questioned me more than once – what was it about going to Disney that had me so happy?
I became fixated on the trip and helping us discuss and pull together every detail.
Our time at “The Most Magical Place on Earth™️” came and went quite quickly, and I was riding the high!
The last morning: Peter Pan
A curious thing was nagging at me, though. Despite all the trips to all the theme parks with different groupings of me, Suzanne, and the boys, I still hadn’t had a chance to ride Peter Pan’s Flight.
I had gone into the trip knowing that I should try to ride it again before they closed it for refurbishment and re-working a couple of the scenes (scheduled for right after our trip). But I didn’t quite know why it was nagging at me so much to make it to Peter Pan.
The last night of our trip, I told Suzanne and Thomas that I wanted to get up early the next morning and get to the early opening hours of the Magic Kingdom to be able to get to Peter Pan. Thomas said he’d like to go with me.
So our final morning, Thomas and I left early and caught a bus to the Magic Kingdom to be there for the early rope drop for the resort guests. While everyone else was running to Seven Dwarves Mine Train or the other popular first rides to line up for, we ran to Peter Pan’s Flight.
Neverland & growing up
Sitting next to my oldest, Thomas, flying through Peter Pan’s Flight at the Magic Kingdom, I was hit by a tidal wave of emotion.
Last week, I took it to spiritual direction and had an opportunity to reflect upon and talk through why – and what it meant to me. I appreciate my spiritual director pressing on the Peter Pan point, and asking: “Let’s explore that. Let’s talk about what you were feeling and why.”
It was meaningful to me to be able to experience Peter Pan’s Flight that morning with my oldest Thomas.
I grew up wanting to be a movie or theatre director or producer. I started college studying theatre design. Some of my favorite moments in life were around making new things come to life. Helping to produce, write, direct, and create shows for national scouting conferences and Jamborees were among my favorite efforts and accomplishments.
I left school early to start my career when the opportunity presented itself. Along that path, “Starting things” have been some of my favorite opportunities.
Starting our family
Starting some of the first radio station websites
Starting a new dotcom tech company before the 2000 tech bubble burst
Starting new teams at production houses, ad agencies, and at Omniture & Adobe
Getting back into a startup at Exodus
Being a partner with our CMO/CCO at Exodus in creating the first (and perhaps last) Freedom Summit event for hundreds of men in the mountains of Colorado last fall (this has been one of my favorite efforts and one of the most meaningful to me in recent memory)
But still, deep down, there’s a spark that just wants to create… start… produce… even more things.
One important thing that I’ve come to learn about myself in the last couple of years, and especially the last six months, is that once something gets past the point of “starting” and “creating”, I can become bored and frustrated. I’m not the one to keep running it. I’m the one to get it created and started.
I had a hint at this after my first sabbatical at Adobe, more than 10 years ago. At Adobe, every employee is able to take a sabbatical every five years. Your first sabbatical at the five year mark is 4 weeks long, the next one is 5 weeks long, and every sabbatical after that is 6 weeks long.
When I returned from my first sabbatical, I was asking my team members who reported to me what was missing when I was away. One of them said, “We were missing the spark that you have that gets us to make the new things happen.”
While I had a hint of it from that teammate a decade ago, it hadn’t really coalesced into a full self-realization.
That’s now an important self-realization at mid-life, and will play into the way that I co-create my career path with my leaders and teams at work – and in my diaconate ministry – heading forward.
It even helps me understand why I was getting so frustrated in my diaconate. The fire that I had when I first landed in my parish assignment and had the opportunity to create and start new things was dying out as they all continued into maintenance mode and keeping them running.
What was it about going to Disney that had me so happy?
Flying through Peter Pan’s Flight, I realized the answer to Suzanne’s question. Walt Disney and the company and worlds he created are the embodiment of what excites me so much. Every element of every experience that Disney creates are thoughtfully created, brought into the world, to move and have an impact on someone.
Creating… Starting… Imagining what can be and giving it a spark into existence.
“Disney” helps me identify and reconnect with what gives me life and the type of work I like to be able to do.
There’s something about all of that coming to a head while riding the Peter Pan ride that ties it all together – Something of boyhood that was still lingering… Something of what fuels me that’s been right in front of me… Something of what doesn’t fuel me that I needed to come to realize… Something of unrealized dreams that I had set aside or continued to pursue in different ways…
It really came to a culmination in the way that Providence let me take that Flight with my oldest, who’s about to head to college to continue pursuing his dream to create, perform, and tell stories through theatre and dance.
Creating what’s next
“Create the future” is one of the four values at Adobe, where I’ve re-landed and am loving my work getting a team and program around Adobe using its own software best inside the company first. I find myself connecting the most to the values of “Create the future” and “Own the outcome”.
I was explaining to my spiritual director an idea for something that I would like to start next, that I’ve been working on writing for the last couple of months. We had a great discussion about the opportunity for it, and what it could do for the church and the world.
But he was able to caution me and press on something that my recent experiences already have me considering: If running it once I’ve started it drags me down, how am I creating it from the start with the mind of who will help keep it running once I’ve given it life?
I was happy to tell him that I was already thinking through that. The experiences of the last couple of years – and especially the last six months – have really helped me understand what fuels me, and what douses the flames of my passions. And I’m adjusting how I work and build based upon that.
Wrapping up
It’s fascinating to me how something as simple as a draw to run to a theme park to ride a ride, and then the experience of riding it, can lead to so much contemplation and self-realization.
But it can also help me say for myself now, what that CEO mentor said years ago…
“I finally figured you out. You’re a starter. You start things.”
“That’s the real trouble with the world. Too many people grow up.” – Walt Disney