I went for a hike yesterday to sort through a major quandary. Or so I told myself. You see, I convinced myself that all the gods were conspiring against me. They had a meeting in heaven and Mark Stevens was tops on the agenda. Specifically, they were going to see to it that he had no place to turn. No road to run down. I was facing a business dilemma-or so I told myself-that I was turning into a life dilemma. A major chapter in the history of Western civilization. More than that, a biblical epic.
As I carefully constructed this drama, I made sure it was one of those stories Hollywood hates. There would be no happy ending here. How could there be: all the roads were closed. Every strategy I thought about, pondered endlessly, brought to life in a film noir I was directing, wound up on a dead end. Whoa, I was making damn sure that there was no viable exit from my business dilemma and that I had every right, excuse me, to feel terribly sorry for myself. The gods had it in for me and when they feel that strongly about a marketing guy and his business issues, well there’s a place in hell waiting for him.
And then the hike. And then the epiphany. All the roads are NEVER closed. In fact, none of the roads are ever closed. Not if you want to take a five minute break from feeling sorry for yourself and apply your creativity, your determination, your imagination and your guts to simply going down THE road you want to follow. I don’t care if every member of the Harvard Business School faculty says THAT road is closed. I don’t care if the Bishop Of Canterbury says itEmail This Post