I’m on the Chicago airport, sipping coffee and listening to unfortunate jazz while checking email. I just picked up the 13″ Air, so I’m enjoying the size of the screen and relative comfort of the keyboard. And I’m hoping I filled it out with enough software and old code to do some damage on this trip.
Traveling can be clarifying. I’ve been in a funk off and on for 5 years. The past year hasn’t been great personally or professionally (until we started BigLeap), and I’ve let a few things slide that deserved more attention.
Six weeks ago I started jogging, kind of like Forrest Gump in that there wasn’t any reason for it. Health in my case, but I’m not a fan of running, so it was surprising when I just did it. Having running shoes on put me in the frame of mind. Bear digs it because I’m not lagging behind, and I dig it because our hikes are shorter and more productive.
Carrying a bag puts one in a different frame of mind, too. I’m looking outward, not inward. People are so different in airports and planes, different from people I know and see regularly. Things seem more possible. I plan my next few days, check to make sure I’ve got everything I need for the 4th time ( I don’t, but I can recover), read more, think about the future instead of the path, get out of patterns of thinking and doing and into something new.
One attraction of traveling isn’t about leaving yourself behind, it’s about leaving the old clothes of the past that dressed you every day and putting on new clothes of possibility. I do best when I live in the possible, that space between the present and the future, the place where practicalities and limitations are malleable, lightweight, and re-shapeable like putty.
Life just changed significantly with the sale of the company; the biggest difference is that the obligations I built up with a lot of people have been satisfied. You sell the promise, the hope, the dream, the possibility, knowing you’ll make best efforts and there’s a pretty good chance you can deliver. This one took too long in that sense, and I think it weighed heavily on me.
So onward–to the next one. And the next. If you’re a starter, that’s what you do. Start things.