~ Andy Warhol, American artist (1979)
Whenever I think about the possibility--no, the inevitability--of dying, I get petrified. While I try not to think about it, I know that sooner or later my heart will give out and this life as I know will cease to exist.
Tim Russert's death was a shock to the system, as was the death of my father 18 years ago, and when I actually stop to think about how I'll go--in my sleep, automobile accident, mugging, what have you--I'm never quite okay with it. While I have no specific long term goals or bucket list of things that I feel I absolutely must do before checking out, I still have no interest in leaving, and certainly feel that at the moment when I take my last breath, like many people, I'll be disappointed for not having done all that I could and should.
With that as the backdrop for this post, the other day, for a good 15 minutes, while boarding a plane for the 1,700 mile journey from Chicago's O'Hare Airport to Santa Ana's John Wayne Airport, I was completely comfortable with the prospect of my plane falling out of the sky with me in it. Call it an epiphany or total resignation to the prospect of dying right then and there but I was ready.
Back up 45 minutes and you'd see I had just arrived at my gate for the 3 hour and 46 minute flight home from three days of speaking about the benefits of blogging to online retailers attending the seventh annual eBay Live! Community conference and expo at the McCormick Place Convention Center in Chicago, Illinois. The conference, while poorly attended in comparison to previous eBay Live! conferences, was an excellent event for me as a business blogging advocate and educator. The accolades I received from nearly every single person who attended one of my three workshops was nothing less than spectacular, without exception (I know, that sounds so self-congratulatory, but considering my state of heath throughout the event--I was running a fever and my voice was nearly shot--I was actually, for once, quite proud of myself and my co-presenter, former eBay University instructor and entrepreneur Steve Lindhorst).
While attending the event, I had the opportunity to reconnect with old friends and business associates, many of which experienced tremendous personal and business growth since the last eBay Live! event in Boston. (As an aside, one friend lost more than 60 pounds, while another was finally hitting his stride in reaching eBay sellers with the kind of educational material that is truly making a difference in their lives, not to mention in the lifecycle of his own business. To be surrounded by such savvy and compelling people was an honor as well as an inspiration. I even connected with someone who reminded me about the power of positive thinking, and another--a business owner--who acknowledged my contributions while working on a competitive account a few year back.)
With that as the backdrop for my trip to the airport ... here's what happened next:
What happened next prepared me to die.
Somehow we got to talking about age. (I think I asked where she went to college, what she studied, what year she graduated and she said--at some point--"Are you trying to figure out how old I am?")
Once we exchanged ages, she lamented that she felt at her age (32) she should have by now accomplished a lot more (like many of her friends), which is why she hardly ever tells anyone how old she is. For my part, I told her that I once too felt the exact same way. I shared that when I lived in Colorado, whether by design or coincidence, I was surrounded by very successful people, almost of whom were at least five to10 years younger than me, had significantly higher net worth's than me, and were consistently recognized by our professional peers, industry trade groups, the local media, and mutual business peers and friends as being the cream of crop at such young ages.
I then shared that had I accomplished what she had by her age (Ivy League graduate, MBA student, gainfully employed by an emergent sports marketing management firm, trusted to be the coordinator of a major series of pro golf events around the country, yada yada, that I'd feel differently... that I would most likely feel exceptional, on top of my game, with nothing but a really bright future ahead.
I also told her that for me, the defining moment for how I valued myself (back in Colorado after spending years unfairly comparing myself to others) was when I learned and truly started to live the following concept:
All there is is what happens and what you choose to believe about it. And, related... All there is is what other people say or do and what you choose to believe about it.
Once I understood the freedom associated with living a life with that notion by my side, I told her, my life--and the lives of the people closest to me--became infinitely simpler and way more enjoyable.
Now, at that moment, knowing I had been added to the "I'll volunteer my seat" list and that I had chosen to sit next to her simply because I wanted quick access when the ticket agent would call my name to confirm my free travel voucher, the young woman said something like:
I believe that all things happen for a reason, and I am so glad we got to connect. I truly believe that my flight to Vegas was delayed for a reason, and that you were put here for a reason. I am just so glad that you chose to give up...
We interrupt this cliche to announce...
Belicove, Mikal Belicove, please see the agent at Gate B-20; Mikal Belicove, please see the agent at Gate B-20!!
Long story short, even though I was the first person to volunteer my seat, my seat was no longer needed. Seat 7E--a middle seat--was all mine and was waiting for my pear-shaped body to submit.
When I turned to go back to where my carry-on bag was laying, with a frown on my face for having lost the opportunity to score a free ticket and dialogue further with this woman (and no, I wasn't hitting on her, Steve; she was married and we had already covered that ground), I could tell that she too was sad but also grateful for the moment.
But before I left to board the plane, I took a notebook out and asked if I could share one more concept that sort of changed my life and that she too may appreciate exploring further. With her encouraging nod of approval, I began to draw what I've coined my "Possibilities versus Expectations Paradigm," which I explain through this somewhat humorous college-related example:
Remember when you were in college and you called your boyfriend up on the phone and invited him over to your dorm room to watch a movie? Around 30 minutes later, he shows up with his hair all combed, teeth brushed, and smelling like he'd just been quick-dipped in a bottle of Drakkar Noir Cologne for Men by Guy Laroche.Much to your boyfriend's surprise, when he walks through the door to your dorm room, sitting there on the floor smack-dab in front of the television is your roommate, Karen, who just may be the most annoying person ever admitted to any institution of higher learning. At that moment, your boyfriend realizes you meant watch a movie, not "watch a movie" (i.e., make out).
When one travels down the road called "Expectation" (as in the example above), and they hit a roadblock or significant pothole, they get thrown off course, become lost, and experience a sense of anger, disappointment, and resentment. If they ever do make it back onto Expectation Blvd., chances are that the journey will be hampered and limited by what happened in the past.
On the other hand, when one chooses to travel to the same location but via a different road--the one called "Possibility"--when faced with the exact same roadblock or bump in the road, navigating around the obstacle--while still challenging--is a heck of lot easier and a lot less painful because right on the other side of Possibility Drive's pothole is more hope, intention, and most importantly... more possibilities.
Here's a reproduction of what I used as the visual aid:
The look in her eyes upon having heard and seen this paradigm was touching, and her comment as I ripped the crumpled page from my notebook and asked her if she wanted it to reflect on later, was priceless. Again, she reconfirmed the notion that everything happens for a reason, and thanked me with a look that said more than words ever could.
As I walked back to the ticket agent to gain access to the crowded walkway to the plane, I turned around and waved a sort of goodbye, and in that moment I thought to myself that if indeed everything does happen for a reason and my plane were to fall out of the sky at some point over the next 3 hours and 46 minutes, I'd be completely at peace, because I felt that in that moment that I may have made enough of a difference in someone else's life that my own may have finally had some significant measure of meaning.
Quite egotistically, I envisioned news of my death eventually reaching her, and somehow--and I know, this is just absolutely absurd--that the sheet of paper that I left with her would make its way out to the rest of the world and impact millions and billions of people (in part because of the whole "everything happens for a reason" thing). A book would be written, Oprah would add it to her reading list, a foundation would be established and my last name would somehow become synonymous with the Possibilities versus Expectations Paradigm.
As I boarded the plane, I remained committed to my newfound belief that if it were all to end now, it would end in the spirit of a life having made a difference in the survival and advancement of others.
Some 15 minutes later--as a flight attendant said something to this effect: In the event of a change of cabin pressure, panels above your head will open revealing oxygen masks. Remain seated with your seatbelts fastened. Pull a mask down towards you to active the flow of oxygen. Oxygen will be flowing to the mask even though the bag may not inflate. Cover your nose and mouth with the mask, place the elastic band around your head and continue to breathe normally. Remember to secure your own mask before assisting other.--I no longer felt as I did before. Death was no longer an option!
Obviously, my flight did not fall out of the sky and I did make it home with nothing more than my own memory of the experience. At the outset of this entry, I posted Andy Warhol's quote about fame. In a similar vain, I now wonder if the same holds true:
~ Mikal E. Belicove, American blogger
While there's no way I'd be able to sum up everything that happened in my life in 2005 (that's what the Archives section of this site is for), here are five (5) things I'm proud to share:
1. I continued attending weekly 'fat classes' in 2005, which I credit for encouraging me to stay on track with my many health and weight management goals. Without going into much detail, in September of 2003 I started on a quest to lose 40 lbs. by the time I turned 40. Dubbed the "40 x 40" plan, I hit the mark a lot sooner than I or anyone else thought I would, but more remarkably, I managed to keep 40+ pounds off up until and way beyond my 40th birthday, which occurred last September!
2. While I no longer work for John Wiley & Sons, I am proud of the fact that two of the books I conceptualized, acquired, and saw through to publication, were highlighted in Wiley's third quarter filing with the Securities and Exchange Commission. While Reverse Mortgages For Dummies and Tour de France For Dummies were just two the 20+ titles I was responsible for publishing last year, they were two of only four consumer For Dummies titles highlighted for their content and sales performance by the company's significantly overpaid CEO in an SEC filing (the "Form 10-Q" filing to be exact) which reported quarterly revenue of $236.7 million (an increase of 4 percent from the $226.9 million the company earned in the same quarter one year earlier). And if that wasn't enough, Reverse Mortgages For Dummies was named by noted syndicated real estate columnist Robert J. Bruss one of the 10 BEST real estate books to be published in all of 2005. Bruss' accolades, along with Wiley's own nod to both books, are validation, I feel, that I was a good acquisition editor!
3. In 2005 I came to realization that 'home' is less a "place" and more a set of actions involving certain people and feelings. Those of you who choose to read this blog are a part of my home, and if you read between the lines, you've noticed how often I talk about how much I miss one town in particular. In 2005, I realized that many of the people who live in Boulder, Colorado (my former 'hometown') and it's surrounding burbs, are still part of my home, as is the strong sense of community and freshness I felt while living there. My Mother and Brother in Vermont, along with the GF's family in another state, are also a part of my home, despite being nearly 1,000 miles away. In 2005 I learned that the trick to feeling comfortable with your home,i.e., where I live today, is to be willing to commit not to any one town, i.e., in my case, Boulder, but to moments that contain the opportunity to be exactly where I am, not where I may think I want to be!
4. Another highlight in 2005 was watching friends and colleagues advance on both personal and professional levels. Many of the people I'm fortunate enough to call my friends made significant advancements in 2005, including Ford, Matt, Joe, Mike, Roman, Bryan, Renee, Ian, Kenny, Elizabeth, Hanna, Ret, Scott, Paul, Bob, Christina, Jerry, Missy, Jozet, Danna, Sheila, Deb, Kristin, JJ, Erika, Chrissy, Sarah, Jeremy, Shantanu, Kevin, Dave, Elaine, Zoe, Erin, Kate, Stefan, Jay, Angela, Susan, Luke, Pat, and my Mom, just to name a few. I'm always in awe of the people who just-keep-on-keepin'-on, no matter what they're faced with, no matter what the cost, and no matter who is or is not watching!
5. But perhaps most of all, I'm proud to share that in mid-2005, the GF moved in, and seven-plus months later, she's still here!
Here's wishing everyone a great 2006!
As I wrote around this same last year, for the past 10 days or so, Jewish people all across the globe have been observing what is commonly referred to as The High Holy Days... a time of year when Jews are meant to reflect upon and examine the relationship they have with God (and with other human beings, too), and where we attempt to right past wrongs, as well as ask for forgiveness for the intentional and unintentional wrongs we know weíve committed. This year's version of The High Holidays officially kicked into high gear on the 4th of October with the marking of Rosh Hashanah (that's the Jewish New Year, by the way), and ends this evening at sundown (6:07 p.m. here in Indy) with the winding down of Yom Kippur, otherwise known as The Day of Atonement.
Many people have heard that Jews choose to fast i.e., not eat any food for around 24+ hours or so, on Yom Kippur, which is exactly what I'm in the midst of doing this morning (no food, only water--and a diet Dr. Pepper--since I went to gym and then a class at around 1:30 p.m. yesterday afternoon).
As a child, I was taught that the intention of fasting was not to torture or punish myself for the sins I committed. Rather, fasting was supposed to help me to transcend my physical nature so that I could connect with the most unselfish aspect of myself. I was also taught that praying without concern for food would allow me to completely focus on my prayers.
Well, to be honest about it, for me, ever since I was old enough to create meaning for myself, the fasting (read: the extreme hunger) has served as an intense reminder of all that I have done wrong in the past year, and thatís exactly why I choose to do it. The fasting encourages my ëprayersí (for lack of a better word), and reminds me that I must hold myself accountable for all of my actions, misdeeds included.
As I shared last year, these last 12 months has been remarkable ones. I've had the opportunity to interact with, and be a part of, so many different lives. For most, I know for certain that I was a positive influence... I was someone who was fully-engaged and supportive. For others though, well, quite frankly, I'm sure I was not.
So here it is (and I assure you that just because this is being shared in such an open forum, these words are not hollow ones)... If I offended you over the last year with any of my actions, motives, or words, please accept my apology. I'm a work in progress, and some days, especially today, I wonder if the work will ever be done.
As always, thanks for reading this post, as well as for being a part of my life, and for allowing me to be a part of yours. Sincerely, if I have upset anyone, please know that I am sorry and that I am committed to being more mindful of all of my actions (and reactions, too).
It's a busy day here at 902 North Penn. (what with all the great jobs I'm finding and applying for... yes, cat's out of the bag--I am searching for a new job), so rather than blab on and on about how disappointed I am with John Bolton's appointment to the United Nations, or about just how transparent ABC's Good Morning America, NBC's The Today Show, and CBS's The Morning Show are about providing 'coverage' for Hollywood movies produced by the studios that own ABC, NBC, and CBS, I figured I'd share a photo of what I looked like as a baby.
Happy Tuesday, everyone!
So, this past Saturday morning I decided it was time to look into the possibility of getting a new prescription for my glasses. Somehow, I don't think it's necessarily a good thing that I've been wearing the same prescription/glasses since the spring of 1997. Along with the new prescription--which I'll receive after a detailed exam later this week--I'm also looking into the possibility of getting entirely new frames.
Help me out, will ya? Please place your vote for which of the following pair of glasses you feel works best for me?
Did you know: By federal law, eye doctors are required to provide an eyeglass prescription, following an eye exam, at no extra cost. Additionally, by law, consumers have the right to receive a copy of their eyeglass prescription, so that we can shop for the best value in eyewear.
Ever wonder what to do with your old eyeglasses? Consider donating them to Lions Club International, a not-for-profit organization that annually donates more than 5 million pairs of eyeglasses to needy recipients in developing countries all across the globe.
Did you know: Dogs can see in much dimmer light than humans. This is because the central portion of a dog's retina is composed primarily of 'rod' cells that "see" in shades of gray, while human central retinas have primarily 'cone' cells that perceive color. The rods need much less light to function than cones do. Finally, dogs can see flickering light better than you and I. The only significance to this appears to be that dogs may see television as a series of moving frames rather than as a continuous scene.
Aside from the fact that I can be accused of being a giant 'rod' for posting these pictures, honestly, which one(s) do you think works best for me and my goofy face?
I haven't had much to say lately, thus all the silence. I've been working a lot, going to the gym a lot, and sleeping a lot, which has left little time for blogging. I'll be back tomorrow though with a new version of Four For Friday.
When does the weekend officially begin for you? An old friend of mine claims it begins on Friday morning, and I suppose if you work a 40-hour week between Monday and Thursday and don't have to work on Friday, that'd be true; but still, this friend of mine has long claimed that the weekend officially begins Friday morning (despite the fact that she has always had to work a traditional Monday thru Friday job). Regardless, here's what I did this weekend...
Friday... together with some co-workers, took a fellow co-worker, who is expecting her first baby next week, out to lunch. Stayed at the office till around 8:30 p.m. or so (I have a lot of stuff to do these days), and when I couldn't see straight anymore, went home and did a couple of loads of laundry and some light housekeeping (there's nothing better, in my opinion, then waking up to a clean house on a Saturday morning).
Saturday... went to the gym in the morning, found $20.00 in the parking lot afterwards, went into the office from around 10:30 a.m. till 3:30 p.m., spent $8.00 of the $20.00 at the movie theatre (I finally saw Million Dollar Baby... great flick, by the way), came home for a minute, then went over to Urban Element for dinner and some wireless web surfing. While there, I found someone's purse sitting atop one of the outside tables with no one nearby to claim it. When I brought it inside the restaurant to see if anyone owned it, the lady who said it was hers later stuffed $8.00 into my hand (as a reward) and wouldn't take no for an answer.
Sunday... went to the gym again in the morning, and then to the office from 11:30 a.m. - 2:30 p.m., followed by a trip over to Trader Joe's where I bought some food with the money leftover from Saturday. I made it home by around 4:30 p.m., had some delicious Chicken Parmesan that I bought at Trader Joe's, and then just vegged for the rest of the day with my roomie and his girlfriend.
All-in-all, not a bad weekend! Going to the gym first thing in the day really helps to make the rest of my day better, even if it means having to come into the office on a weekend day.
Happy Monday (can you tell I hit the gym again this morning? :-)
I had an interesting conversation last night with a friend who lives in my former hometown of Boulder (Colorado). Bryan and I worked together at both the Association for Experiential Education (AEE) and The Outdoor Network (TON), and we try to connect every few months or so to stay up-to-date with what's going on in one another's lives. Last night we realized that in less than 30 days, I'll have lived in Indianapolis for three years, which both of us acknowledged as being quite an unexpected development.
As recently has three-and-a-half years ago, if someone took me aside and told me that by the time March of 2005 rolled around that I'd be living in Indianapolis for going on three years, I would have said, "You're Nuts!" But here I am, nearly three years removed from Boulder, and I am living in Indy, and quite honestly--outside of winning the lottery--I couldn't be happier. Sure, there are days when I miss Boulder's charm, atmosphere, and the life-long friendships I developed there, but for the most part, home is what you choose to make of it, and Indianapolis suites me just fine.
If I'm honest about it, I sold The Outdoor Network and moved to Indiana because I sensed that if I didn't, I probably never would have taken the steps necessary to become a self-sustaining adult. Boulder was an oasis of sorts for me. I had many friends and associates there who were supportive of my business-related dreams and goals, but at the end of the day--at the end of most days--people were too generous with me, and I never truly learned to fend for myself. Whether it was living in a friend's basement rent-free when times were tough, or accepting friends loans in order to keep my company afloat after the dot.com bubble burst, I just wasn't cutting it on my own. Sure, my team and I did innovative things at The Outdoor Network--we launched the first website in the world to report outdoor education and adventure travel industry news on a daily basis; we created the most popular online job and resume site in the world for outdoor education and adventure travel industry professionals (and successfully licensed the proprietary technology running its search engine to non-competing organization); and we created and launched the first-ever legal periodical to cover the outdoor ed and adventure travel space (called The Outdoor Education and Recreation Law Quarterly)--but personally, while I was thrilled to be developing innovative products and services for an industry I loved, I wasn't being personally responsible.
Day in and day out, I hid behind my company's successes, refusing to grow up and take responsibility for so many things that were wrong in my life. From my personal finances and relationships with others, to my health and the distance I was putting between myself and my family, if I didn't sell my company and move from Boulder's "it's okay Mikal, we'll support you" environment, I would have eventually alienated everyone I knew, including myself.
Moving to Indianapolis forced me to take responsibility for myself, and as much as I want to kick and scream some days, it's a move I haven't regretted. Sure, I still have a long way to go in terms of being that self-sustaining adult that I wasnít while living in Boulder, but three years later I am a bit closer, and that's a good thing!
