Rainbows and Butterflies

Yesterday, I had a shitty day. If this was the kind of blog that everybody assumes it is when I tell people I write a blog, I’d probably spend the next few paragraphs explaining the details of the shitty day in melodramatic, self-centered prose, hoping that anyone reading might be willing to feel sorry for me and I would feel justified, united by relatable circumstances. But I don’t write one of those, so I’ll spare you the details. It was one of those days where, aside from the always entertaining episode of Game of Thrones I watched, the bad shit just kind of kept piling on top of itself in different iterations, culminating in a night of sleep so poor, I can’t remember the last time I experienced anything like it. I literally couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back over the parts of my day that left me in such a weary state. That’s not a good place to be. Especially considering how well everything in my life has been going for so long, now. Sometimes, when the cards keep coming up aces, you convince yourself that it’s never going to stop. So when the shit card gets flipped, its way more of a surprise than it should be. Consider this my fault. It rains in paradise, too.

So this morning I was faced with a decision. Not just ‘how much longer can I stay in bed to make up for the abbreviated segments of unrewarding pauses that we’ll call sleep while still making it to work in time to squeeze in 8 hours and a workout before the gym closes at 7,’ although that crossed my mind. No what I had to do was decide how to react. Bad news happens. Bad things happen. And while continuing to write in vague details, let’s just say I had the choice of dwelling on the past or moving on to the future. I can assure you, it would have been very easy to dwell on the past. To delve into each or any of the less than fortunate situations that I find myself in and break it or them down with more depth than an NBA on TNT halftime show. The opportunity to feel bad for myself was laid out like a fleece blanket on a cold night. More than just available, but tempting, inviting, alluring.

I’ve spared you the details of why I had a shitty day not only because I’m almost positive no one wants to read them, but to write about them now would reinforce my inability to let them go. Instead, I’m writing to prove that I can, in fact, let them go. And that’s what is keeping me happy today. Well, at least part of it.

It’s easy to have people tell you to focus on the positives, the silver linings, the glass-half-full side. It’s easy for people to tell you to focus on other stuff, big stuff, like health, a job, friends. It’s easy to get caught up in American Beautyisms like ‘I need to remember… sometimes there’s so much beauty in the world…’ in order to maintain your sanity. But being thankful for my health isn’t enough to pull me away from something right here, now, that just rocked my world. The only way to do that is to make a decision. Making that decision isn’t easy. It is not the path of least resistance. But once you’re able to flick that switch, and decide, not hope, not plan on, not try to, but decide that what’s done is done, and the future will be brighter than the past, then that’s it. It’s black and white. There’s no second guessing. There’s no regret. There’s what happened, and what will happen. And your eyes are only looking at one of them.

I’m not saying that what I endured yesterday was catastrophic. In fact, writing the word ‘endured’ makes it seem much loftier than reality. Maybe I can say that because I’ve moved on (last night, ‘endure’ was the only thing on my mind), or maybe I’m just being dramatic. It’s hard to say for sure. And the same way that no one will ever get to feel someone else’s pain, no one will know what it was like in my head under the covers last night. Which is a good thing. But I’m a believer in what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and only the strong survive, so where would I be today if I rolled back over, closed my eyes, and replayed everything I did or didn’t do that lead me here? I’m not all rainbows and butterflies today, but let’s be honest, that’s a pretty elevated goal.

Being happy isn’t a result, it’s a choice. You’ve just got to have the will power to make it. 

Picture comment: I literally found this picture AFTER I wrote the above line. Fate?

Spinning My Network

This week marked my first experience attending an industry conference and expo, the American Society of Training and Development’s International Conference and Exposition, chalk full of keynote speakers, over-decorated, over-energized booths, almost 400 topic-specific sessions spanning three days, and somewhere around eight thousand attendees meandering the monstrosity that is the Colorado Convention Center in the lovely city of Denver, Colorado.

I flew out Sunday evening, after being delayed over two hours, and didn’t arrive to my hotel until around 11pm. No time for fun, the first keynote was 8am, Monday morning. I walked two blocks to the CCC and checked in, got my little name tag, and followed the masses to the Wells Fargo Theater located as far as you could walk while still being inside. I didn’t have much of a plan for my three days, so the fact that I could just walk the same direction as everyone else made it easier. The featured speaker was great, a fellow by the name of Jim Collins, and feeling mildly inspired, I was ready to take on the conference.

Still imitating a lemming, I ended up at the expo, freshly opened and ready to invade your personal space. I made my way down every single aisle, wide-eyed first day of school style, managing to exchange words with no one. Which means, since I had left my apartment at 5pm the night before, I hadn’t said much more than ‘thanks’ and the address of the hotel to the cab driver in about 16 hours. I was beginning to feel like an outcast walking among that many people with no one to talk to. Everyone else chatting, hugging, connecting and reconnecting, me, not. “Because nothing sucks more than feeling all alone, no matter how many people are around” (J.D., Scrubs, S2E18, My T.C.W.). This continued all the way through the generously provided lunch. I say generously provided, but when I realized how much a ticket to this event cost, I guess it made sense. Full, I stood in back to avoid being harassed by the invasive booth workers, creating my game plan of booths that I needed to stop by to minimize the amount of unnecessary contact, considering there were over 200 booths and about 10% actually applied to me. It was in this phase of my journey that I randomly bumped into three coworkers on their way to an early afternoon session. It was nice to talk to people.

The topic-specific sessions varied in their format, from 200 person lecture hall types, to round tables set up for frequent group interactivity, to cleverly disguised sales pitches. I attended two of these sessions Monday afternoon, the first offering not much more than a cool demonstration that was inapplicable to my profession, the second offering quite an eye-opening reconstruction of my entire professional processes. The second one was worth my time. That was the essence.

I had dinner with my coworkers that night, which included a bacon potato pesto soup and encrusted pork tenderloin on top of elk jalapeno-cheddar sausage hash and spicy sweet potato mash; yup. I then spent the rest of the evening in the hotel bar, networking, the focus of the trip, and this post.

Somewhere in between the giant theater speeches about innovation and inspiration, the crop fields of booths with their most ‘talented’ assets front and center, and the dozens on dozens on dozens of private sessions, you spend your ‘down time’ doing everything possible to meet and greet anyone that sparks your interest, on any level. My first iteration of this took place while I waited for my afternoon smoothie, a tasty treat doubling as filler until dinner. My first three preferences were unavailable (out of mango, strawberry banana, and strawberry), so I settled on peach, while the screwy, unreadable credit card of the young woman behind me rewarded her with a free chai. Alas, a conversation was born, and ‘networking’ commenced. Later that night, at the hotel bar, you know, the hotel that was about 90% conference-goers, ‘networking’ continued. Whether out of desperation (only one other person in the bar at 8pm), proximity (an interesting person grabbing a seat nearby), or interest (mutual recognition of personality and conversation), I met, chatted with, discussed industry specific ideas, learned about parts of the field that I never gave much thought to, and generally, realized the scope of the profession that I find myself attached to, along with a laugh or two.

Throughout the next two days, I listened to lectures that were so elementary, I probably could have taught it myself, I sat through keynote speakers that used music as much as language to get a message across, and gathered information from booths that were actually relevant, all while keeping my ears and eyes open for those I had already met, strengthening something so recently ignited, or seeking new networking opportunities to pack on like pounds for the winter.

Networking, as I’ve come to know it, is fascinating; so many angles, so many outputs. Me, I had a few things on my mind. I was looking to meet people in the industry (which was everyone), just to help understand the field that I find myself under-educated in. The more you talk about it, the more others talk about their side of it, the clearer the landscape of the training world is painted. As a young professional, understanding the landscape is as important as perfecting your craft. I was also looking for anyone doing what I’m doing, instructional design, to once again, talk the business. Just being in a room full of 200 instructional designers was an uplifting experience, knowing that there are more out there, just like me, dealing with the same issues, and surviving. I was looking for personal connections too, for various reasons. Reason one, in case I no longer find myself employed by this wonderful company and need to reach out to some similar-industried people. Reason two, in case one of these similarly-industried people finds themselves out of a job and could be an asset to my team. Reason three, because I needed company. Humans weren’t meant to be alone, and it was nice to grab a drink, meet up for a lunch, stop at a booth for a chat, or enjoy a cross-convention walk with those I had met; made the trip worthwhile.

So, I hope this wasn’t the last time I get to be so immersed in my professional field that you forget you still have a job. I learned a lot, ate a lot, walked a ton, and met some folks that hopefully won’t be strangers. I think I like networking.