johnmaconline

I learned something today. I love days like that.

I always thought the day after Thanksgiving was called “Black Friday” because it was the day the retail world moved into the black — i.e., into profit. 

Wrong. Sort of.

The true history is much darker and more complex and has little to do with retailers’ profits. But, like many things in our collective and personal histories, revisionist history has taken over.

Yet another reminder that truth and reality are not always the same. 

Today in the United States, we celebrate Thanksgiving. 

If I could point to one single thing, thought, or practice that has made the biggest impact on me personally, it would be intentional gratitude.

We all live somewhere on the spectrum of blessings, and our position changes day-to-day or even moment-to-moment. 

Your spectrum is relative to you only. It’s not objective, relative to your neighbor, nor relative to some rich and famous person. It’s all about you.

The World wishes to keep you to the left. It benefits from your fear, anger, and victimhood because those are the fuel that fires its engines. 

But moving yourself to the right on this spectrum is one of the keys to your personal happiness and success. And it’s simple (if not always easy). You move yourself to the right by engaging in regular intentional gratitude. Focusing on, thinking about, and feeling the blessings you have in your life life. 

The beauty of intentional gratitude is that it moves you towards your perfect life without having anything change externally. Nothing changes, yet everything changes. 

You want to make your community, nation, or this world a better place? Start with yourself and being grateful. That gratitude will flow outward and upward. 

Today’s the perfect day to start. 

When I was a kid, the grownups pined for the days of the Route 66 travel experience. The slower speeds with interesting sights. The small towns. The people you met along the way.

Heck, Disney made an entire movie about it. (One of my favorites, by the way). 

Gone are those days. Since President Eisenhower signed the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956, we have 46876 miles of interstates. High-speed, efficient, utilitarian rivers of concrete. Even nostalgia can’t compete with convenience.

But the interstates get a bad rap. Nostalgia aside, driving long distances, even at high speed on artless interstates, can still be one of the most human experiences of our time. 

That long drive (we’re talking 8, 10, 16 hours) necessarily traverses myriad lifestyles and perspectives in a way that the Route 66 approach never could. At least not in the same amount of time. Three hours at 75 mph can radically shift the geography, geology, and sociology of your experience. 

Even a quick stop for fuel at a large and polished gas station/made-to-order sandwich shop/luxury restroom exposes you to the other. Three hours later, that same franchise has a different feel, if not a different look.

Sure, maybe it’s subtle. Maybe you really have to pay attention. Maybe you have to look around the corner and in areas easily missed.  

Maybe I’m making it all up.

But isn’t that the foundation of perspective? How do I see it?

Today we stopped for lunch at a Chipotle in central Virginia. It was a disaster.

I knew it would be as we drove in because it was a brand-new store. I envisioned long lines, underprepared staff, and sparse or wonky ingredients.

The drive from eastern Pennsylvania to western North Carolina takes about 10 hours. That’s a long day, but we’ve done it many times. It has a rhythm, and it’s no big deal as long as we stick to that rhythm.

But not today. Today we were derailed by a Chipotle. I was right on all accounts, by the way. Not only did it take too long, but they didn’t have the vegetables or pico de gallo!

Oh, the horror!

I was so frustrated that I was simultaneously staring daggers into the staff and mansplaining to my wife about their obvious lack of ability. If only they would just listen to me!! (You’ve done this also, haven’t you?)

What the hell is wrong with me (and you, by extension)?

Expectations, of course.

Expectations of service.
Expectations of convenience.
Expectations of getting what I want (like a toddler).

Chipotle only has itself to blame. They fell prey to their own achievement. They’ve built such a ubiquitous and outstanding fast-casual eating system that we instantly experience discomfort when it’s out of whack.

So what was the problem again? Right, there wasn’t one. Unless you count the one in my own head.

You can eat nothing but Twinkies, but should you?
You can smoke two packs a day, but should you?
You can run ten miles a day, but should you?

It’s also…

You can vote for what benefits you most, but should you?
You can speak your mind, but should you?
You can donate to their cause, but should you?

It’s also…

You can use bots for sales calls, but should you?
You can advertise on a billboard, but should you?
You can impose a new fee on your customers, but should you?

It’s also…

You can buy out every last toilet paper roll from the store, but should you?
You can install an eight-foot fence around your entire property, but should you?
You can buy an EV, but should you?

Every day in our personal and professional lives, we face choices between what’s legal, available, or within our power and what’s right. The choice is difficult because we recognize the “right” choice is always subjective. 

When we’re on our game, we choose by using tools such as critical thinking, experiments, beliefs, and personal experience. 

But the easy path is a powerful force. The easy path is always what’s legal, available, or within our power. The easy path is usually defensible as well. 

Don’t get sucked in. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. 

You want to be on the hook. We need you on the hook.

Only those on the hook make a difference, make a change, and make an impact. 

And when a group of people on the hook come together, the sky is the limit. A group of people on the hook can create a life-saving C02 filter, a website platform for everyone, and the Bill of Rights.

Many people shun the hook.  

Let’s face it. It’s easy to pass on the hook. The World is full of people looking to avoid it or give it to someone else. They’re worried about the downside. The World sells downside.

It can go bad when you’re on the hook, and it might be your fault. Even if it isn’t your fault, you may take the fall. 

That’s the downside — this might not work, and you might suffer.  

That’s the ontology of the hook.

But what’s the alternative?

Someone needs to be on the hook, whether it’s your country, your church, your company, your over-40 hockey team, your kids, or the guy looking back at you in the mirror.  

Next time the hook comes around, grab it and get on it.

My wife and I have a little inside joke we use when one of us relates a story about someone unknown to the other, and that person’s age may be relevant.

It goes like this:

“If she hears the word “bizarre,” does she think strange or church bake sale?”

Because, of course, bizarre and bazaar sound the same when spoken. If you think church bake sale, you immediately give yourself away as “older.” 

The bizarre/bazaar homophone is an overt flag that helps us understand the person, their perspective, and the context of the conversation. 

If we pay attention, these little overt perspective flags fill our culture — tribe affiliation, bumper stickers, masks, hairstyle, clothing, car, yard signs, social media posts, music, etc.

We explicitly, if not always purposefully, use each of these flags to identify and communicate something about ourselves and our perspective. 

But what about the hidden flags? What parts of our perspective do you and I try to keep hidden or maybe only show in specific company? 

It may be harder to discern another’s hidden perspective flags, but it’s worth the effort. Because if you and I have these hidden parts, so does everyone.

The person standing at the front of the room has the power.

That’s not necessarily a bad thing. This model provides plenty of efficiencies for the collective in the room — information dissemination, entertainment, teaching, legal judgment, etc.

But the only reason that person has the power is the people sitting in the rows agreed to relinquish it. If you wanted to, you could instantly arrest that power.

It’s just a decision to disagree.

Simple pleasures is a cliche. A nostalgic throwback reserved for the get-off-my-lawn generation. 

What kid wants to play with sticks and leaves if they have an iPad? Physically going to the store? How quaint. Why would we play a board game when we have access to MOMGs?

Every once in a while, if you’re lucky enough to be present and paying attention, a simple pleasure will strike deep within your soul and burn itself into the zeitgeist of your being.

And it makes you a better version of yourself. 

It’s easier to google it, but is it better?
It’s easier to order Door Dash, but is it better?
It’s easier to vote straight-ticket, but is it better?
It’s easier to stick with your current job, but is it better?

Often it is both. That’s a win. With the thousands of choices we make every day, we must outsource to easier in most cases. Our energy budget requires it.

Sometimes, however, the path that takes more time, effort, or emotional risk pays off in spades. The stories from your personal journey that you remember and shape who you are today rarely include the easier path.

Sometimes harder is better. The key is to spend your limited energy budget on those times.