My worst wedding day

My father is a smart guy. A research scientist, a mathematician, and a professor. He was the best in his class in high school. Then college. Then in his PhD program. Sometimes, I forget how much brain power is up there. You see a man toiling away on his computer trying to decide whether an instant coupon saving $5 at Walgreens is better than $5.50 at Rite Aid, and it’s shockingly easy to forget. But I know it’s true. My brother isn’t a slouch, either. He was a tack-sharp, Silicon Valley programmer, before essentially retiring at forty. My sister is pulmonologist who graduated from Stanford.

I, on the other hand, was not at the top of my class. I did not go to Stanford. And retirement sounds about as realistic to me as san bathing in the North Pole.

In my family, achievement is measured by two things: intellect and money. Which is odd, because intellect isn’t achieved and money is at best a byproduct of an achievement. But these were the gold standards of my youth. And no matter how far I’ve gone, no matter how long it’s been, I still can’t quite leave home. You put me in a room with my whole family in my childhood home, and the effect on my esteem is stultifying. It’s like being 16 all over again, except with a lot less hair.

I grew up thinking it was was all about how clever I could be. How well I could show my chops, how much better I could be than everyone else. I rarely was. But I had a moment or two. I was great with multiplication tables. I wasn’t bad at chemistry.

The thing is, when you measure yourself by any type of yardstick – it doesn’t matter what – all you can really do is spend your time trying to prove yourself. And that’s just more time lost trying to be yourself. There was no way to make myself smarter, so I could only hope that I could somehow show I was smarter than I really was.

HOW TO CREATE A SOUL-SUCKING BUSINESS
And that’s what I took into my first business. Then my next. And the next. Greeted each time by some success, but even more failure. Which is no real surprise, because whenever I looked inside, there wasn’t much there other than a pile of aspirations wrapped around a big, black void of insecurity. That’s what happens when you spend your timing looking for validation.

The problem is people don’t hire you to be what you think is good. They hire you to be what they think is good. That means you have a choice. You can chase the dragon and keep on guessing what everyone wants. Or you can lead the way, and provide what people really want. Fulfillment comes when you focus on other people’s needs, but provide your own solution. Insecurity comes when you focus on your needs, but provide other people’s solutions.

And that’s exactly what I spent my life doing. Creating the product I thought people wanted me to so I could quell my own insecurities to feel like I was successful. It’s the difference between being good and looking good.

Being good is living on your terms. Looking good is everyone else’s.

Being good is solving problems. Looking good is avoiding them.

Being good needs no one else in the world to see it. Looking good needs everyone else to see it.

Being good is them following you. Looking good is you following them. And I’ll tell you, if you want a following, no one will follow those who chase them.

What happens when you spend your time proving you’re good is you get clients of every stripe. Showing you can do it all is the surest way to doom yourself to having to do it all.

MY WORST DAY
I know exactly when I hit rock bottom. It was a horrible mismatch from the start. After years of trying to be everything to everyone and taking any business under the sun, it all came to a boil one fine summer day several years back. I knew I shouldn’t have taken the job, but when you’re used to one bad match after another, sucking it up just becomes a way of life.

This one was different, though. I felt it in my gut.

“Do not do it.”

I didn’t listen. I took the job, and the day was an assault. A barrage of constant and unending doubt, because that’s what happens when you don’t properly earn people’s trust and you take work you shouldn’t.

“Do you think that’s the best angle to shoot me?”

“Don’t you think we should stand here, instead?”

“Can’t we do something that looks fun?”

“I have an even better idea…”

When it rains, it pours. And it was cats and dogs all day, right up until I found myself taking pictures of a bridal party dancing the roger rabbit in the middle of New York City.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

But there was, because that isn’t me. It was me showing my ass for not having the resolve to say no ahead of time and help the couple find someone better suited to serve them. I’ve had harder wedding days. But I’ve never felt more valueless.

My tank had hit empty.

And all because I just wanted to be a smart guy, like my dad or my brother or my sister.

HOW TO STAY ALIVE
Here’s how real life works. There is no good. There is no bad. There are business realities. There are social realities. Things societies approve of. Don’t approve of. But forget truth. These things shift and slide, ducking in and out of anything you could ever tie down.

If you want to find true north, you won’t find it looking outward.

Don’t focus on what looks good. Don’t even focus on creativity. True creativity is about letting go. When your mind tries too hard to do anything, it stalls out. Try walking on the edge of a sidewalk. Easy. Now try walking on the edge of a cliff. No different in principle. Very different in reality.

Paradoxically, trying to be good means not trying to be good.

Instead, just listen. Listen to your body. Listen to the universe. Clear out the thousand voices in your head. Settle into the signals inside. See what they’re feeling. See what they see. Because good is the truth in the moment. Your truth in the moment. It will ebb, it will flow, but it’s always there, all around you, and you can’t keep it on tap. Just let it pour and drink as you need it.

A good picture isn’t what happened. It’s what you felt about what happened. Your connection to the outside world is the only way to find spontaneity. If you want pictures no one saw coming, don’t let your head and your ego hijack the scene. Get your body involved.

Instead of doing the thing you know will work, make yourself uncomfortable. Shoot from a different spot. Shoot with a different lens. Force yourself to figure things out. That will call upon your skill and your vision, and it will fully commit you to the present.

Embrace the uncertainty. Look at what’s in front of you. Move a little. See how the angle changes the light, the features, the background. Look more. Watch the picture form. Say yes. Don’t look at all the reasons a picture won’t work. Find all the ways it can. Because it always can. No is just a safety mechanism that keeps you from taking a risk. But it’s also a safety mechanism that keeps you from finding reward.

If you look inward, I offer no guarantee you will not fail. I offer no guarantee anything will work at all, in fact. The world is all too mercurial for that type of security to ever exist. But that’s just the point. There’s never any type of security that really exists no matter what you do.

But when you fail on your own terms, you can fail with pride and dignity. You’re not wounded. You’re empowered. You’re not lost. You become determined.

It will keep you in it.

And, as it turns out, that’s about the only thing I could ever say really is true.

Not that if you’re in it, you’ll win it. But if you’re in it, you won’t need to.