Random Thoughts of a Supersmock

I have been experiencing a lot of this in my life recently. Being a Type A person, I have always strived for excellence. I read books on how to improve my mind, body, and soul. I have a million Pinterest ideas on how to maximize my time, money, and energy. I have always measured myself against the standard benchmarks of life, and I believed that striving for excellence was the ultimate goal. I don't know why, but recently everything in my life seems to be telling me, "Forget that." My newer employer doesn't care about maximizing talents or truly increasing KPIs to reach our prime potential. They care more about people feeling good than doing good. It's been a hard adjustment, to say the least. I see it showing up in my own goals, too. Maybe it's me getting older. Maybe I'm slowing down. Or maybe it's the reality of showing up every day to a company that doesn't promote that relentless pursuit of excellence. Whatever the reason, I don't seem to ...

I read so many things that say worrying is one of the worst things you can do, right along with being afraid. It's taken me a long time to realize that I can, in fact, change my mind. I can choose to stop worrying about things. Most of the time, that comes with the help of God, but I've also found that I'm simply less afraid than I used to be. For more than 20 years, we've worried about our kids. Truth be told, I've worried about all of them at least three times this week. I'm proud to say that's much less than it used to be, but it's still more than I should be doing. I know I'm not perfect and I'm far from who I am truly called to be, but I think this season is teaching me far more than I expected. I'm learning that it's okay to be bored. I'm learning to appreciate the little things rather than constantly chasing the big things. I'm learning that slowing down isn't weakness. Most of all, I think I'm learning to worry les...

I see him very often at the corner on my way to work. He reminds me of my dad in a lot of ways. The way he walks. His stance. Sure, my dad isn't a Black man with an eye patch, but he gives me the same vibes. I don't really know his story, but I see him often, and I pray for him every time I do. He always waves and carries the same sign. I don't typically give people things when I see them holding signs that say, "Please help..." Most of the time, I think the same thing many people think. They're just going to use the money to buy drugs or alcohol, or they're begging because they're too lazy to get a job. I even once saw a man begging on a corner walk over to his very nice car after collecting a few bucks. So naturally, I'm skeptical of everyone. But this man is different. Today, I had some cash, and I could afford to give him some. I've seen him for almost a whole year, and I hardly ever have real cash on hand. Today, I saw him start walking up...

I often say the wrong thing. I have gotten better over the years, but I have always been quick to speak and slow to listen. I recognize my selfishness and stubbornness. I recognize the moments when I want my words to wound instead of heal. I recognize when I want to elevate myself above someone else, proving that I know more or that I am somehow better. Lately, I have been learning what it really means to be "less than" myself and "more than" my ego. That is harder than I would like to admit. As the youngest in my family, I was always the one behind everyone else. Everyone got to experience things first, and whether intentionally or not, I often felt like I wasn't enough. Being told you're not enough can create a lifelong desire to prove that you are. Sometimes that proving comes through achievements. Sometimes it comes through your voice. I think that's why I have spent so much of my life wanting to be heard. Wanting to have the right answer. Wanting to...

I have come to a pretty significant realization in my life: I am, for the most part, a nobody. Don't get me wrong. I am somebody. We all are. But I am not anyone particularly important in the grand scheme of things. Over the course of my life, I have come across people who truly are somebodies. They are the kind of people who inspire others, accomplish remarkable things, and leave lasting impressions wherever they go. They are often admired, celebrated, and remembered. I was never one of those people. I wasn't unpopular, either. I simply existed somewhere in the middle. I had great friends throughout the years, though truth be told, I have often been a terrible friend. But that's a story for another time. This story is about being a nobody. There was a time when I desperately wanted to be a somebody. I believed it took something extraordinary to earn that title. Money. Power. Influence. Recognition. The ability to change the world in a visible way. I have none of those thin...

There have been times when I was actively looking for a new job, and there have been times when a new job found me when I wasn't looking at all. I can't tell you which employers I was ready to leave and which ones I wrestled with walking away from, but I can honestly say this: not all the jobs I've jumped to have been what I thought they would be. Some fell short of expectations, while others were so much more than I could have imagined. I'm not perfect, but I do think I'm more than just a financial historian reporting numbers and closing accounting books. I enjoy the challenge behind most of it. I like being part of building a business and helping companies improve and grow. Recently, I read one of the most interesting job postings. It asked: "Do you challenge the numbers instead of simply reporting them? Do you make the call and own the outcome? Do you want a target, the authority to pursue it, and the freedom to determine how you get there?" I thought, ...