I've learned from my mentors that the standard for success is:
professionalism and
being world class.
Although I was born in Chicago, I pursued a career in horses from a very young age. I started competing Nationally when I was 11 years old. For me, it was all about show jumping; the bigger the better
I was on the road 10 months a year, competing in different city nearly every week from one side of the country to the other.
Yes, it meant that I did not attend school the way most people envision school. However, I assure you my education was not neglected.
The one thing I wanted more than anything was
to win
to be the best
to be world class
Straight away I observed that if you want to be world class at anything, you must look and be the part. Genuinely learn how and act perform professionally.
I also saw that to be big and great, be a champion, you must look and act like a world champion.
Acting world class is not talking the talk.
It’s Walking the Walk
In my case, winning.
In short order, I realized that I had to keep stepping up the caliber of my mentors. That’s what the equestrians who were world champions were doing. Constantly doing. That meant I had to find the next “best” coach, the next “best” mentor.
My mentors were not my coaches.
My mentors were my horses!
I kept on finding better and better and better caliber horses. My pursuit was for professionalism. I had no interest in being an amateur.
A coach teaches you how to do something.
On the other hand a mentor:
Encourages you to continue your pursuit
They're patient
They’re there for you
They give you the wisdom of their experience
They invite you to push the boundaries
They’re kind to a point
And realistic in their communication with you
My horses were all that:
Each one had more ability
Or had a different ability
Each one was patient while I perfected my craft
Each one was kind
But they could and would draw a line in the sand
They would let me know wrong from right
They demanded professionalism out of me.
If I failed them, our performances were not world class.
Horse gives you what you ask for. Generally, they aren’t inclined to give you more than what you ask for.
They taught me the very valuable lesson of do what you are doing, when you are doing it.
Approaching a 6-foot jump and getting distracted is a recipe for failure. Jumping horses is a risky affair and can definitely can leave a mark.
Let’s leave my horse show arena and step back into our urban/suburban culture.
I look around the world right now and I see a preponderance of what I refer to as a slacked-off professionalization. It’s culturally pervasive:
in business
in education
in family structure
Not only is it everywhere, it’s becoming part of the new normal...
on the shop floor
or maybe it's in the boardroom
or maybe it's at a hotel
or in a restaurant
or at the dinner table
or in the virtual classroom
Rather than having a laser-like focus while doing the activity at hand people are checking their mobile devices or they're chit-chatting. They’re otherwise engaged or engaging.
I've noticed that this slack-off brand of professionalization especially in business where people are forgetting that when you are at work, it's “show time” and bring on your ‘A-game’.
In society at large people are treating public spaces, shared virtual spaces as if they are in the privacy of their home.
I host a lot of Zoom meetings and I see it all the time.
As host...
It’s my job to watch the participants
To measure the experience
To learn how the next meeting could be better
When you are on Zoom...
You are no longer in the privacy of your home
That part of your home where you Zoom is public domain
Yet, I see people eating, texting, taking calls, doing make up and playing with cats & dogs. They aren’t being courteous or professional. They’re not giving their attention to the job or task at hand.
All I'm saying is…
If you want to live your best life
If you want to own a game you can be proud of
If you want to live a life that makes a positive impact…
Then follow in the hoofprints of my mentors when they led me to raise my standards to world class in every arena: family, friends, work, and community.
They taught me to raise my standards across the boards.
I learned that being the best is less about inherited genetics and much more about installed habits. I’ve found that in my life, raising my standards about my beliefs and the way I interact - by going the extra mile - permits me to be content with myself plus be comfortable in the presence of the shadow I cast on others.
The ultimate value of my horse mentors was to help me create a better version of me.
Opmerkingen