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The CC - Maybe I’ve Got No Bad Parts.
Maybe I've Got No Bad Parts.Parts of me felt flawed, I was a failure. I was grieving my damaged identity, imagined future. I’d disappointed an investor, employees and customers. Sitting at the cafe, feeling completely abandoned. I was depressed. Angry at myself for making such a mess of the company I owned. But little did I know I was learning about my relationship to suffering. Lessons that would enrich me decades later. Over the morning meeting, the bank found out how off-side Rocky Mountain’s balance sheet was. They freaked out and forced our $3M loan into the bank’s non-performing loan group. Which was another way to say “soft receivership”. After a really grim all-morning meeting with the bank, my investor and his CPA wanted me to join them for lunch. The bank made it clear, we needed to invest more into the company. I was tapped out, and my partner/investor had no appetite to give anything more. The server arrived at our table. “What can I get for you gents?” I had been groaning inside, “What am I doing here? There’s no job, no CEO role, no company worth this stress.” So I responded to the server, “Your apron.” “What?” He asked in obvious confusion. “Just let me change places with you. I’ll take your apron and your job. And you can sit in my spot here to have lunch!” My partner grimaced, “Grayson, that’s not funny. Just order.” My lunch colleagues at the table were unconcerned how devastated I was. I carried the shame of unmet expectations at my company. So the simple task of being a restaurant server looked inviting. I wasn’t able to live up to the contracts with the bank, customers or my investor. What was broken wasn't only my balance sheet, it was my sense of identity in the business. That sense of identity forced me into a dark place of doubting my worth-ness. I’ve spent years trying to outrun my various failures by building again, proving again, running hard so as not to have to sit in disappointment. It’s in the pain, pressing me down, that has compels me to dig deep and recover what I’ve been born for. Inside there’s a foundation of my true identity. Finding this means accepting my liabilities, limits, and brokenness. Embracing the totality of who I am. Failure has enriched me, helped me to collapse the false ego of competence. It’s usually through my stumbling that I’ve learned to stop trying to control life and instead take time with family, friends, and spiritual meditation. Then I can understand that the pains associated with my endeavors were as much a part of my story as all the success. Somehow, I’ve got no bad parts. I would love to connect with you on LinkedIn or Facebook See you next week, Grayson Did someone forward you this email? Get weekly reflections straight to your inbox by subscribing to The Compassionate Competitor. Want to share this issue via text, social media, or email? Just copy and paste this link: [ARCHIVE URL GOES HERE] |
Grayson Bain
Join us if you're yearning for business insights peppered with adventure, humanity, and a dash of humility. It’s more than success; it’s about significance.
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