Well, there’s a first time for everything, they say. Today marks the very first newsletter where I haven’t sat down to write out my thoughts in real time. I wrote this a few evenings ago; I had no choice. I couldn’t focus on anything else other than that afternoon’s events, so away I wrote until the clock struck midnight.
It felt good to get this memory out of my head and onto paper but, truth be told, I still don’t want to share it, but I’m going to anyway because I’ve found continued solace in vulnerability and I trust I’ll find the same here today. Yes, it’s another story about me, but, as always, I hope that it communicates the intended message well. I’ll wrap things up after the story is read so, away we go…
Life literally took me on a detour today. The main highway that I take home from work each day has been under construction for quite some time now and traffic today was backed up for miles due to some large concrete bridge beams being offloaded near our place. Luckily, being a lifelong resident of the area, I know every back road there is around here. My son, Aiden, was driving (he works with me) so I redirected him to a route that skirts the western edge of town and we were soon back on open roads.
Being that these backroads are simply programmed into my memory, it was a mostly thoughtless series of actions to get us clear of the traffic jam ahead, kind of like a computer utilizing its own random access memory. As we turned onto the road that would take us the rest of the way into town, it dawned on me that I was about to take a trip down a road that was flooded with memories. I told my son “get ready” as I started down the list. I can happily say that my son hasn’t ever seemed to mind my stories from my youth and, judging by the continuous laughter, I think it’s safe to say that fact still stands.
Growing up, my best friend lived on this road which is why I have a long list of memories tied to it. I told Aiden the story of the time a good friend of ours “borrowed” her grandfather’s truck late one evening, came to pick us up, and we then headed into town, which was not much more than an old gas station and a blinking yellow light back then. Oh, and by the way, we were all under the age of sixteen; not one driver’s license between the three of us. We were on a mission to grab some sodas and junk food and the mission was indeed a success, that is, until we started back towards home.
As I mentioned, this area was much different back then. We probably saw two or three other cars on the road that evening where today you’d see a hundred or more, easily. I was the one driving the old truck back home, and we were putting along just fine when, all of the sudden, headlights came up on me in what seemed like an instant and then started to pass me on the left. It was a two lane road back then, so I took it as someone wanting to challenge me to a race so, just as any young, dumb teenage boy would do, I floored it and smiled ear to ear as we’d just found some fun. Well, the fun was short lived. As I watched the speedometer climb, I was pleased to find that we were still in the lead at this point, but the other car started gaining on me. Once in clear sight, my smile turned to a look of absolute horror when I noticed the word “sheriff” painted on the door of the car. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I was trying to race a Williamson County Sheriff’s Deputy. Ah, the fun we were having.
I bet you can’t guess what happened next…
Yep, his lights came on and he kindly directed us to pull over. Long story short, after my friends and I practically soiled ourselves, the kind deputy opted to follow us home to ensure we made it there safely, but only after a stern lecture about making better choices and doing what’s right. We were grateful for his grace, and we counted our lucky stars that night as we enjoyed our bounty of junk food and newfound outlaw status. I’m pretty sure that my folks didn't know about this event… until now, so… Sorry, mom! Sorry, pops!
There were other stories I told about one adventure after another and I found myself present in a really great moment of recalling some wonderful memories and sharing them with my son, yet that moment quickly changed as we crested another familiar hillside.
Just down the road, and in plain view once we found ourselves over that hill, was a small arrangement of office/warehouse buildings. It’s where, many years ago, I had my own metal fabrication shop. In an instant, I went back in time to a dark, humid, late summer night that I will never forget.
The year was 2009, and I’d been in business for about four years. I’d started as a one-man operation and quickly grew into a bonafide company with several employees and countless satisfied clients. The growth happened at a feverish pace. It seemed like I was constantly hiring new people, purchasing new equipment and tools, and taking on bigger and higher end projects with every passing month. I was well on my way to becoming a household name in this area, all based on the two guiding principles of the company; honesty and integrity. This wasn’t simply my company motto, it was how I did business, and it was well received in a market that had been experiencing a wave of “fly by nighters” just looking to cash in on the current housing boom. It was one of those times where they were building multi-million dollar homes on every corner, and the dollars were being handed out like participation trophies to any and all who were up to the task of providing a quality service that fit the budget.
I took quite a few of those dollars, and invested every last one of them back into the company. As is the case with many young companies, the bottom line saw a lot of red ink, but I felt that it was necessary to keep spending in order to keep up with the demand of a growing client list. I still stand by this sentiment today, but that housing boom I mentioned was about to come to a complete standstill.
Does anyone here remember what happened in 2008? Does “The Great Recession” ring a bell? Perhaps “Housing Market Crash” will stir your memory. However you wish to put it, history tells the story best. An unimaginable amount of really bad subprime mortgage loans created a bubble the size of the sun and, just as bubbles do, it burst in grand fashion. At first, I wasn’t too worried about it. After all, most of my clients were building houses for clients that were “well to do” and mostly shielded from economic downturns, right? Wrong. Dead wrong. Most of their clients were just as leveraged and vulnerable as the common man. Although I’d made it almost all the way through 2009, the flow of dollars slowed to a trickle and eventually came to a complete stop; not even a drip.
Those employees I was constantly hiring a few years prior? I laid them off. A little at a time, and with tremendous pain in my heart, I let some amazingly talented people go. I felt as if I was taking money from their wallets and food from their plates. It still hurts deeply, some fifteen years later. All of the new equipment and tooling I’d purchased? I slowly sold them off, one by one, either to make ends meet or to settle debts with employees that I couldn’t pay their final paychecks to. I’d gone from a one-man operation, to an “empire” (at least in my little world), and back to a one-man operation. It was like watching your worst nightmare unfold before your very eyes, in slow motion.
Back to that dark, humid, late summer night…
I was working on what would turn out to be the last project my company would offer, and it was one of the most challenging. Almost every part of the project was hand-forged, and I was on night three or four of standing in front of a forge in the sweltering heat (even at night) as I hammered away on picket after picket that stood no chance between my hammer and anvil. I had been trying my best to keep it together. I was constantly reassuring myself that things would turn around again, but deep down inside, I was breaking down. I was months behind on my shop rent, I had outstanding balances with my vendors, I was still settling debts with some recently laid off employees, and my wife and I had long been struggling to stay afloat. The wolves were starting to gather at the door, and I had an increasing feeling that I was suffocating.
That night, as I forged away, each hammer stroke became more fierce than the last. A process that had typically brought me great peace and serenity started to become an avenue for some long overdue rage. Within minutes, I was striking the steel so hard that I was ruining it. I didn’t stop; I just kept hammering harder and harder. The tears started to run down my face as I broke into pieces inside. I kept hammering, sobbing, then screaming, until my arm and hand gave out. I managed to turn off the forge, took a few steps away, and stopped in my tracks as I wept uncontrollably. I’d lost everything that I’d worked so hard for. I had let so many people down. The flood of failure came crashing over me and swept me into complete madness.
I went to my truck, parked just outside of the shop office. In the bed of that truck was an ice chest. I opened it up and grabbed a beer. It was ice cold, and something I normally coveted after a twelve hour (or more) day, but before I could even open it, I threw it to the ground at my feet with such force that it exploded. The anger continued to rise. I grabbed another beer, and it met the same fate. I grabbed a third beer, opened it, took a sip, and proceeded to throw it as far as I could into the woods behind my shop. It had nothing to do with the beer; I was just so intensely angry that I couldn’t function on any level. I screamed at the top of my lungs and began to weep again. Exhaustion soon set in, so I took a seat on the tailgate of my truck. I was spent. Each breath slowed, my heartbeat followed, and I attempted to slowly gather my wits. I grabbed beer number four, this time drinking it down in one desperate chug. I grabbed number five, took a sip, and let it do its thing as it continued to bring me back to an operable level.
I sat there, sipping my beer, and taking stock of just where I was. In my mind, I was stuck. I couldn’t continue. I had to cut my losses and move on. I cried again, this time not in anger, but rather pure sadness, as I had finally faced facts and was about to put the nail in the coffin of one of my greatest achievements. I grabbed my phone from my pocket, and dialed one of my closest friends who ran a local steel fab shop. It was getting late, but he answered on the first ring.
“I need a job.” I said.
He was silent for a minute. A job inquiry was the last thing he was expecting from me.
“A job? Are you serious?” he asked in bewildered fashion.
The words that followed still ring in my head today.
“I’m done.”
That was it. I had officially given up. My friend wasn’t hiring at the time, but he made the exception for me and I started the next day. I finished the final project to the best of my ability over the following weekends, yet a mountain of debt still loomed in the distance. I spent the following three years paying off every cent of every debt, a little at a time. It was a hard road, but I felt it was the right one. Most of my vendors and creditors had extended credit to me simply because of who I was. They knew me. They trusted me. I couldn’t walk away from that. I’ll never forget the day that my wife and I made the final payment to the last vendor. It was the most freeing feeling I’d ever felt.
What a nice, happy ending, huh? Well, sadly, the story isn’t over.
Failure isn’t uncommon in business ventures. I can’t recall the exact statistic, but more businesses fail than succeed. You’ll never hear a successful businessman or woman talk of how easy it was to get to where they’re at, and you’ll never find one who’s failed who doesn’t have a mile-long list of lessons learned. There’s great education in failure, and I’m grateful to have experienced it first hand, but even after all of these years since, there’s something that I can’t get over.
Steve Jobs needs no introduction. At what seemed to be the height of Apple’s rise, Jobs was fired from the very company he created. It was a public and humiliating event, and it led to yet another failed business attempt that happened in plain view of the public eye. Jobs would find success again in the company Pixar and he would eventually rejoin his beloved Apple and guide it on a meteoric rise to what would eventually become what it is today, a trillion dollar company, and one of the biggest in the world. Although Jobs met a tragic and untimely demise, it’s clear that failure did not define him. He allowed it to be the teacher that it is, he learned from it, and came back stronger as a result. This is one among hundreds of stories of how failure was a necessary part of the journey for so many who persevered and achieved their eventual success.
My story, however, tells of a man who let failure define him and follow him through life, all the way to the present day, and here’s another fun fact… Within my story, somewhere between the failure of my fabrication company and present day, is the account of yet another, almost eerily identical failure, this time of a cell tower company. Yes, that’s right… not only did I fail once, but twice. In the grand scheme of things, multiple failures aren’t uncommon in many who have experienced success in business. The problem with my story, however, is how similar these failures were. With a long list of priceless lessons at hand, I went into the next venture and repeated almost every single mistake.
How could I have done this? How is it possible that I disregarded almost every bit of knowledge I had of the trappings and red flags of failure? I had the recipe for what not to do, yet I baked the same damn cake.
Why? Ego, that’s why.
My recent journey to become a much better version of myself has brought to light some disastrous traits that, in hindsight, laid the golden path right to my demise not only in business, but in my personal life as well. They say that insanity is doing the same thing over and over, yet expecting a different result. Well, my friends, I have long sailed the seas of life aboard the USS Insanity, all while named Captain of the Ship. My ego built castle-like walls in a years-long attempt to blind me from truth and progress. It disguised itself as the northern star, yet it led me to the most unforgiving shoreline, breaking me almost entirely and beyond repair. As the wonderful writer Ryan Holiday aptly titled one of his most-read books “Ego is the Enemy”, he couldn’t have said it better. Those four words now live inside of my head, rent free. It’s quite true, you know? Our egos are indeed our enemies, and we must set a course to limit their advancements to a crawl. There’s the saying “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” and the same can be applied to our most dangerous adversary, our ego. Without a check valve and a very short leash, we will succumb to the false narratives that may very well lead to a majestic rise, but will most certainly find us at rock bottom. Only in these dark moments will you realize just how far it led you astray. This is where a choice is to be made. Continue with Ego leading the way, or find your way back to your truth.
I’ll never know if I made the right choice that night. I think about it all the time. My life ever since hasn’t been horrible by any means; I have many accomplishments that I am proud of, both personally and professionally, but I would be lying through my teeth if I said that these failures don’t still haunt me today. The way I see it, I built two very impressive companies by doing almost everything the wrong way. What would have happened if I would have shed my ego and heeded the warnings that were present throughout these ventures? My ego was constantly telling me that everything would work out in the end and to keep pushing forward, which is just what I did. My ego didn’t allow me to take a step back and see just how imminent failure was… TWICE!
It’s such a powerful part of our psyche, our ego. It has a wardrobe full of disguises (passion, pride, and vanity are a few that come to mind), and it will stop at nothing to gain absolute power over all that is you. Don’t get me wrong; I truly think our ego has it’s rightful place in our journey through life, but its blinding effect on reality can lead us into some painful traps that are typically hiding in plain sight.
I think it’s important to note that those who do everything “right” aren’t immune to failure. There are so many factors in life and business that we simply can’t control. However, when we keep our egos in check, two things become possible. One, it makes it much easier to see the freight train called failure steaming down the tracks as it gathers momentum. Take a step outside of your own head and pull you and your ego off of the tracks. And two, our ability to minimize our ego’s control over us is what allows us to not only learn from failure when it does come our way, but it affords us the humility to realize and accept what we did wrong so we can move forward down a corrective path.
Whatever you do, please don’t let failure define you. Trust me, it will rob you of so much as if it had a gun to your head, demanding your very soul. Whether big or small, let failure be a teacher, a mentor that stays with you in a guiding, healing capacity. Fall down if you must… but remember: Staying down will only invite the vultures to pick away at the shell of your former self. Get back up, dust yourself off, and emerge a better, smarter version of you.
So… there it is. Yet another peek into my soul. I still don’t want to share this, but I am beyond certain that I must. As uncomfortable as it is to share certain things about my darker days, there is indeed a therapeutic essence to it all. My hope is that it helps someone who might be struggling with their own ego that has led or is leading them down a treacherous path. I’m still amazed at how sly and calculated my ego has been, and I think they, possibly you, will find the same.
Live your purpose. Whether it be through your family, your friends, or your God, let it be yours and let it be pure. This will be of great help in keeping the distractions and disguises of your ego at bay.
Anyways, as always, I’m grateful for your continued interest in my ramblings ;). As a reminder, or for those of you who are new to these, if you ever want to continue this or any conversation, I’m simply a reply away. Shoot me a reply to this email, and let’s have a chat. There are no rules here, so let’s be on this journey together.