The Polymath Talk

The Polymath Talk

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Jerrod and I

 Below is the text of my Launch Out St. Louis presentation. I’ve had a few people request I post it somewhere. Although it is written specifically to be delivered verbally, hopefully it makes sense as text. The cadence and inflection were an important component of the delivery. If you’d like the full experience, the video is here.

 

Pondering Purpose: Perspectives of a polymath paralyzed by potential and possibilities

(this presentation is brought to you by the letter “u”)

Perspective

As a young child I woke up at the crack of dawn every Saturday morning. I would bolt out of bed and sit under the glow of the television, eating my cinnamon toast and watching cartoons. After solving crimes as I rode with the gang in the Mystery Machine, I’d get together with my super friends to battle the legion of doom. I’d grab a picnic basket with Yogi before running through the desert with the Roadrunner. This life was full of adventure…it was a good life. A simple life. And then… then I would find myself in space. Zooming into the earth, I discovered a city built on stilts. In those houses in the clouds, a car would fly by. This car held one of my favorite families. The Jetsons.

Even as a young boy, my head was in the clouds. I love looking to the future and imagining the possibilities of all the things that could be. In the world of George, Jane, Judy, and Elroy, not only were there flying cars, but robots would brush your teeth or clean your house. People moved from room to room by being sucked through large tubes, often while a machine dressed them for the day. There were moving sidewalks. Kids could actually talk to each other through their televisions. The future was Rosie, so to speak.

As enamored as I was with this shiny future, I always felt sorry for George. It wasn’t because his boss yelled at him so much or because he was accident prone. No, I pitied George because of the work he had to do. George’s job was to push a button. One button. Sure, he might have been good at his job, but that’s all his job was. Even sitting on the floor in my batman underoos wearing my Chewbacca house shoes under the glimmer of that cathode ray tube, I knew I wasn’t wired that way.

When I grew up, I wanted to be a duck, flying freely through the sky and floating lazily on the ponds. I wanted to be an astronaut, exploring space. Discovering new life and new civilizations. I would be an inventor and automotive engineer, shepherding in a new era of technology. I wanted to be a marine biologist, sailing on the Calypso and diving to the unexplored depths of the seas. These weren’t phases I went through, I wanted to be all of them at the same time. You see, we aren’t all wired to be like George.

Perspective

I’m a polymath. A polymath is someone who passionately pursues many different things. It’s different than ADD, but there are similarities. If you ask my community of friends what it is that I do, you’re likely to hear that I’m a photographer. Someone else might tell you I’m a pastor, or maybe a missionary. A different person might tell you I’m a writer. Someone might say I work in information security. So which is it? All of the above. That’s what a polymath looks like.

All my life people have asked me what I want to be when I grow up. People are still asking. As if I have to pick. As if there is one thing. To tell you the truth, I still haven’t decided and I know now that I never will. I’m perpetually undecided.

From my perspective, I was paralyzed. Those infinite possibilities have that effect on a polymath. Our cultural narrative tells all of us we should find one thing to do. Find that one thing and master it. They tell us that is the secret to finding value, meaning, and significance in life. The world tells you to find that one button to push and then push it with all of your might for all of your days. In Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell observed that it takes 10,000 hours of dedicated practice to be world-class at any one thing. But what if I’m not wired that way? What if you’re not? When I focus on just one thing, something tragic happens. I’m fighting against my built-in programming. If I sell my camera to buy a typewriter, a piece of my soul dies. When that happens, I’m not as good a writer. Because I’m a polymath, I need the interplay between all these different disciplines in order for any of them to be good. That tension must exist, it provides the spark for creativity and the fuel for the journey.

My perspective had to change. Paralyzed is no way to live. But what can I give up? What one thing should I choose? I wasted years this way.

When I quit my day job to be a writer, I experienced the longest dry spell of my life. When I stopped writing to focus on photography, words burned in my head and in my hands, consuming me until they found an outlet.

It was only when I accepted myself as I am–the way that I was knit together by our creator–it was only then that I discovered the joy of being a polymath. Within the tension created by balancing writing, photography, preaching, and information security, I found life. Exhilaration. Instead of feeling pulled in a thousand different directions, I looked for the common thread uniting them all. In this new exploration, I discovered the beautiful journey my life was designed to be. I became unstuck. I became free.

Perspective. That common thread I found was that our lives have significance and meaning. We were each created for a purpose. Everything I do points to that truth in some way.

That first step…the one that took years to discover…is acceptance.

To step into a life of meaning, we begin by accepting the beautiful tapestry that we each are. You were designed to shine, but first you have to step away from the things that hinder. For me, it was that big button George Jetson pushed his whole life. I had to stop looking for that button that would complete me and instead look at myself. I had to discover my own unique shape and then accept it.

I had to accept my polymathedness. I had to understand my own composition and trust the one who created me. I had to accept that I’ll never be the best at any one thing, even though I could be pretty good at many. That was a difficult truth to swallow, but I found freedom on the other side. I discovered room to flourish. A space to be me. That freedom to explore flows from self-acceptance. Instead of trying to be like someone else or living up to someone else’s expectation I learned to trust God with the way He wired me.

All my life I’ve heard it repeated: you can be anything you want to be. The uncomfortable truth is, you can’t. You see, we are each uniquely designed. We’re customized. When we accept that the possibilities aren’t truly infinite, we begin to understand that the options still left on the table mesh with our internal composition. Instead of mourning the loss of all you can’t be, embrace the satisfaction of doing what you were created to do.

Perspectives. Acceptance.

Moving forward into a life of meaning, even after we have accepted our own uniqueness, is still a struggle. For me, even when I accept that I can juggle multiple gifts, I still think I need to focus on a single one. I’m a high achiever, I want to be the best at what I do. Over the years I found myself turning opportunities down because I feared failure. I feared I would never be the best. I sat on the sidelines, waiting for the day I would discover my true calling. Waiting to discover what I could be the best at. Eventually, I found it. I overcame that paralysis when I understood that the only thing I could be the best at is being me. When that clicked into place, I found even more freedom. Freedom to truly explore my own unique design and purpose.

This is integration.

We naturally tend toward elimination instead of integration. We try to cut out all the little things in our lives that don’t contribute directly to our dream. But all of us here are human, and humans are complex.

In my journey, when I focused solely on writing, my perspective was that my day job was hindering me. It was my big obstacle, so I eliminate it. What I found out, though, is that income helps. Later, I thought photography took me away from graduate studies. Public speaking interferes with my ministry. My struggles with physical pain and clinical depression undermine everything. But I learned to integrate it all into my message and my mission. It is all part of my story, and that story is glorious. Through everything I do the core message remains…life has purpose. Life has meaning. I believe that. And I believe in you.

My words, photos, ministry, and entire life are crafted to point to the truth about our creator and ourselves. We were custom crafted by a glorious and beautiful creator who loves us very much. As we learn to embrace this, we learn to step boldly into all we were designed to do. There is nothing as satisfying as integrating all you are into all you do.

Even our obstacles. Those things that seem to so painfully hinder us…lack of money, lack of time, lack of support, sickness, loss… all those things shape us. They refine us if we let them. The struggles give our lives focus. They help us prioritize. As we persistently push through the pain, we emerge stronger and wiser. If our perspective lets us. A healthy perspective tells us that every obstacle is temporary. Even our darkest and most painful moments can be endured. They can be integrated into our story.

Perspective. Acceptance. Integration.

After gaining this new perspective of acceptance and integration, another struggle still remains. This one is particularly troublesome for the polymath. Distraction.

A polymath that has accepted his own design easily rationalizes a lack of focus. It can resemble an attention disorder. It’s easy to only write when inspiration strikes. To only minister when on a mission trip. To only take pictures when conditions are perfect. If every aspect isn’t ideal, we always have something different to tinker with. What I’ve learned, though, is that discipline is the one habit that differentiates between average and exceptional. Significance versus meaningless. And who wants to live a meaningless life? I certainly don’t.

Hopefully none of us do.

So once we discover that common thread connecting all our various pursuits, it’s important to find the discipline to focus. It can be okay to jump from thing to thing, as long as each is working toward the larger vision, allowing the natural tension between disciplines to feed each other and the message. Andy Stanley once said that our direction…not our intentions…determines our destination. We can’t let our diverse interests divert our eyes from the end goal, a life of significance that impacts the world in a positive way.

Perspective. Acceptance. Integration. Discipline.

That’s the point of this presentation about polymaths, potential, possibilities, and paralysis. The truth is, you might not be a polymath at all. But, just like me, you have a unique design. You have a purpose…a work to do that is significant and meaningful. You might feel the tension …between what you’ve got to do and what you’d like to do. You can’t let go of your current circumstances to step into the new, but you can’t let go of the new stuff either. All of us end up there some time.

And when you do, remember to adjust your perspective. Accept who you are. Integrate everything you have into everything you do. Keep stepping in the direction of your dream.

 

 

Derek

Derek

This is Derek. 8c8d5893-9d7c-4a9c-a937-9709d44eaa39I met him a few years ago at a pumpkin patch. Although I’ve seen his family around these parts my entire life, I guess I never got to know any of them very well. The look on Derek’s face intrigued me. I pulled up a bale of hay and struck up a conversation.

“Hello, friend!”

“Hello, young one. I’m Derek. What can I do for you today?”

“You looked lonely. I thought you might like some company.”

“I’ve been in this field for years. Through thunderstorms and blizzards, tornadoes and earthquakes. I watch the pumpkins grow. I see the people rush by. After all these years, a touch of melancholy has set in.”

“But Derek, you’ve seen countless beautiful sunsets from where you stand. Plus, the work you do brings warmth to the people of this land. Things can’t be all that bad, right?”

“Young one, I do not grow melancholy for myself, but for those I see hurry by. Look at that family over there, tell me what you see.”

“Well, there’s a mom and dad with their toddler. I saw them pose for a picture with scarecrow just a moment ago, now they’re hunting for the perfect pumpkin. It’s actually a sweet sight.”

“Ah…but did you see how they rushed? This pumpkin patch is a mere checklist item for them, a chance to capture a picture, not a memory. Did you see their daughter? There was a butterfly on the scarecrow. She was enthralled by its beauty. Perhaps she lives in an apartment in the city and has never seen one before. Her parents didn’t see the butterfly…they hollered at her to look at the camera and then made her move on as soon as the shutter clicked. The picture was more important than the moment, so the moment was missed.”51ce8bd6-8d7e-4311-a864-c4dfd38d9d36

“Gee, Derek. Surely it isn’t that bad. Look at them enjoying the pumpkins!”

“Watch the little girl. See her staring longingly at that cute little pumpkin with the discolored stripe? She sees the beauty in the imperfection. But dad tugs her away. He’s finding the biggest, most perfect specimen. He’s missing the beauty of the young lady’s perspective.”

“Okay, Derek, now I’m getting a little melancholy, too. I see myself in that situation, and I hesitate to tell you which side of that relationship I’m on.”

“I’ve seen you, too. You’ve been here many times, but this is the first time you’ve noticed me. You’re learning, young one. You’re growing. You’re slowing down. In a good way. There is still hope for you. There is still time.img_0096

Listen, young one. Most people walk through life with their head down. They hyper-focus on what they don’t have and neglect what gifts have already been given. A single hardship overshadows a hundred blessings. Young one, take a step back from the moment you’re in. Seek a long view on life. In ten years, the overwhelming hardship you face today will no longer matter. However it resolves, it will be in the distant past. Why worry so much about it today if it will not matter at all tomorrow? What will still matter are the relationships you have and the memories you make. Play more freely. Love more deeply. Rest more frequently. You will discover your days are full of beauty and love. You will learn to truly soak in a sunset. Even your cloudy days and darkest nights will retain a glimmer of hope, love, and beauty.

Some days you will be sad. Some days you will cry.  With a longer perspective, you are free to fully feel, knowing it is simply for a time or a season. The sadness and tears will pass, and the sunshine will return.”

“But Derek, when we love deeply, we hurt deeply, too.”

“It’s worth it young one. Every time. It’s worth it.”img_0162

img_0097I walked away from Derek deeply pondering his words.. As I walked my boys over to the pumpkin patch, we meandered a bit. For the first time, I noticed the family of red-headed woodpeckers nesting in a telephone pole. The setting sun broke through the grove of trees that were now between Derek and me. After a brief pause, I picked up my pumpkin…slightly lopsided with a discolored streak right up the front. Like life, it was imperfect but beautiful.

 


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Launched

Launched

Break out? No. Break-through.
Creative Storytelling

Launch Out 2016 is over. Echos of those final goodbyes have faded. Our ways have parted. We now cling to memories of #AllTheHugs as tightly as the original embrace. Online acquaintances have become like treasured family members. Life has shifted. Nothing is the same anymore.

Two days of intersecting inspiration is complete. Months of preparation by the incredible host team and presenters paid off. Our tanks are full but we are spent. We are living in the tension of our dreams and our days. Nothing is the same anymore.

The irony was rich…wearing a t-shirt that audaciously declared to the world that I was one who would “Go CONFIDENTLY in the Direction of Your Dreams” while wearily ticking off the miles on my journey back to my ordinary life…  maybe you felt it too. But ordinary life isn’t so ordinary anymore, is it? The truth is, it never was. Now we know that. And nothing is the same anymore.

Let me share a moment of perspective again. The infamous LaunchOut hangover may be settling in. But I have a secret. I know the antidote. It doesn’t protect against every obstacle, but it helps with re-entry.

Back in my college days I knew a few people who were pros at beating hangovers. I’ve culled some lessons I learned

Find your bandwagon

from them and have them here just for you.

  1. It was called “hair of the dog.” The cause of your hangover can also be the cure. Those guys I knew in college swore that if you never were sober, you’d never have a hangover. While this probably isn’t the best advice when it comes to the intake of toxins, it is great advice for dreamers. Even though our lives aren’t continually intersecting like at LaunchOut, our dreams still are. Yes, LaunchOut is a conference, but it’s also a state of mind. You can shift your perspective at any time. Be bold. Hold tight. Keep stepping in the direction of your dreams.
  2. Community. When hangovers hit, there is nothing like a good buddy to help you through. When obstacles arise, reach out to someone you connected with or even someone you just wish you had. You don’t have to dream alone, so don’t. And if you reached out to someone and they didn’t respond, it’s possible they had #allthenotifications and simply missed yours. Reach out again. Please.
  3. Jump on the wagon. Falling off the dreamwagon hurts. What I’ve learned from LaunchOut (and the Tulsa 5 Club)
    Scan the horizon

    is that dreaming and launching works better together. My dream might not line up exactly with your dream, but as Jerrod pointed out in the opening keynote, if you find someone heading in the direction you want to go, jump on their bandwagon. Dreaming has a way of exploding when it’s done together.

  4. Perspective. You know I’m a big fan of perspective. I’m convinced many people experience a post-launch hangover because they’re looking for it. They are expecting to crash after the launch. This is where I think Randy’s vision is so brilliant… we didn’t launch a rocket, we launched a sailboat. You know what that means? Even if you drift a bit, you didn’t crash. You’re still out on the ocean. Check the wind, trim the sails, and enjoy the view. Climb up into the crow’s nest and focus on the horizon instead of your hangover.
Focus

There you have it. Tried and true remedies for the infamous but mythical LaunchOut hangover.

Keep dreaming, folks. Keep doing, too. Nothing is the same anymore.