and Words
I close my eyes
Only for a moment and the moment’s gone
All my dreams
Pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
Many years ago, I observed an e-mail conversation on a very large public distribution list. I don’t quite remember the nature of the discussion. I simply remember that it felt exceedingly noisy and pointless. In a moment of protest, I expressed my opinion in an unconventional way. I responded to everyone with a one-word response: “unsubscribe”. Some archiving services will stop sending you any activity on that discussion upon seeing that response. That wouldn’t work here, but it communicated that I wanted off this discussion.
Days later, I walked into my weekly status meeting with my new lead, Ted. I had worked with him for a couple of years but only recently started to report to him. He didn’t reprimand me for that stunt, nor did he even criticize me. He simply asked me, “What did you want to achieve?” He explained how my response might make me feel better, for perhaps a few minutes. However, my rebellious one-word response was an ineffective way to affect change. If I hoped to change this ridiculous policy, my rebellious reply would not help.
That conversation started my relationship with Ted; I didn’t anticipate that I would grow as much as I did. Nuggets of wisdom filled many conversations, in a way that I still reflect upon today.
Shortly after we formed our team, he outlined to everyone, “I aspire to treat you all differently but fairly.” Though I didn’t object at the time, I heard those words naïvely, and they sounded like grounds for discrimination. However, I slowly observed how he conducted himself with each of us, and he absolutely lived up to those standards.
I reflected back upon that early conversation about the “unsubscribe”. I’m now convinced that would’ve gone very differently had it been one of my other teammates. We each had different temperaments and values. However, he took time to understand who we each were, and subsequently he knew what would motivate us to change. He inspired us to improve.
He told us precisely what we each needed to hear and precisely when we needed to hear it.
While I can’t remember precisely the context, one day he turns to me and mentions something. Discreetly, he matter-of-factly tells me that our team looks upon me as a leader. I turn to him with a genuine look of confusion. We’re a team of about five people; we’re all peers. I never saw myself as any different than they were. Though slowly, he worked on my temperament and guided me through those relationships. Subtly one day, these very competent people implicitly trusted to me and sought my advice. Somehow, I had earned their respect.
In that quick moment, he pivoted that conversation in a way that I could see myself through both his and their eyes. In that instant, I found myself in a maelstrom of pride, confidence, humility, and alarm. To me, this was more meaningful than positional authority or even an updated title. I’m convinced this is precisely the way he planned it.
Months later, he articulates that I likely have 90% of the influence than he does even while being their lead. Ted certainly knew when to pick his moments.
We met for regular weekly status, though this one would be the last one of this year. I quickly approached my use-it-or-lose-it vacation, which would truncate at the end of the calendar year. Though I worried about a document hand-off which I would not complete. I confessed that my vacation came more quickly than I anticipated. Therefore, I contemplated sneaking in on that first day of vacation to finish that document hand-off. He merely acknowledged it.
On that day, I got up a little later and wandered leisurely into my office. I was barely settled before he shows up at my office door. Shaking his head, he mentioned that I may come in to hang out with my teammates or get lunch, but I was not to work today. Subsequently, he urged me to pack up my things and escorted me out the door.
I found out later that shortly after our last meeting, he put out a bounty on my head to my teammates. If they were to see me on that day, they would report to him. Many people will talk about work-life balance but willfully look the other way as they watch you cross those boundaries. Ted didn’t. He protected each of us, and that included setting healthy boundaries.
We all remember those cartoons when a character faces a dilemma and needs to make a decision. Magically, two figures appear, their alter ego. One is an angel; the other is a devil. We all giggled as kids while watching the predicament. That angel is the voice of good and aspires to do the honorable thing.
Through those years, Ted was that voice in my head as I navigated my work. Brené Brown defines integrity as doing what is right over what is fun, fast, or easy. In many ways, this principle sounded in my head with his voice as I debated a pig-headed response to a question. More than once, I amended my behavior for no other reason than to avoid disappointing him.
Ted made me a better person.
This past Sunday, I see a picture of Ted on my feed. It’s an older picture, but one with his familiar smile. I scan the words quickly initially, then slowly. Then the message struck. My friend passed away on the day before.
He was my lead, my mentor, and a friend. However, none of those labels adequately describe the role he played in my life. I can only paint a picture through the stories that described him. Much like he did with me those years ago, I will describe him through my eyes and not his, which are marred by his humility. He inspired and elevated me, in ways that I didn’t imagine.
I never adequately expressed that gratitude.
I was young when I first heard this song by Kansas, though even then I knew it was distinctive. There’s a nihilistic sadness and continuity about ‘Dust in the Wind’. While I acknowledge that our time on Earth is limited, we can make the most of the time when we’re here.
That ‘dust in the wind’ may be the foundation of our home. And that ‘drop of water in an endless sea’ may simply be that teardrop shed while mourning an old friend.