Wonderment

Posted on July 21, 2017 by Andrew Bustamante

We can all relate to a child’s wonderment; where imagination rules and even mundane objects can bring hours of exploration and intrigue. While watching children discover the world around them has always been endearing for parents, a child’s curiosity also presents an important lesson for those pursuing success: Wonderment brings achievement.

Children are perseverance personified. They can be unwaveringly focused or infuriatingly obstinate without showing fatigue or hesitation. They seem to float from activity to activity with little regard for the outcome. Their lives stand as polar opposites to the frustration, exhaustion, and discouragement many of us encounter in our pursuit of personal and professional success. And time and again we find that children achieve incredible things almost by accident – they speak multiple languages, devise complex stories, construct and climb terrifying obstacles, and show genuine compassion at totally unexpected times.

If ever we wanted an example to model, let me offer children as that model. No, I am not proposing that we stop sharing, throw tantrums, or tell fibs about other children – though I would argue that many business and political leaders do exactly that. Instead I am offering that we emulate the way children imagine, explore and let themselves wonder without the expectation of a specific result. To a child, a toy may look and feel the same way every day but there are no limitations to how it can be used. They may see someone day after day but that does not negate that person’s value. Routine is never routine for a child, and there are endless variations to the standard.

Children do not care about intentions, purpose or utility. To them, every person, moment and object is potentially interesting and worthy of wonder. It is stunning how our perspectives change when we grow up. As adults, we prioritize our lives around intentions, purpose and utility. We choose certain people, moments or objects as worthy of our time and even begin to think that it is the responsibility of others to inspire our sense of wonder. With such selective criteria before we choose to put in effort, how do we ever expect to break free of our current routine?

There are many things that stand between us and our ambitions; we must not let ourselves be one of them. Let wonderment be a tool for change. Explore the world around you with the limitless curiosity and unbiased mind of a child. Even though it may seem hard to change the way you think, remember that you too were once a child. Wonderment brought you to where you are. Let it take you to where you want to go next.

April Challenge: The Crust

Posted on April 19, 2017 by Andrew Bustamante

We must accept a universal truth: Kids don’t like to eat the crust. An endless battle for parents, this truth is a powerful tool for meeting goals.

Be it toast, peanut butter and jelly, grilled cheese or otherwise, kids have always preferred the core over the crust. It is not hard to understand why. Experience has proven to all of us that the soft part of the bread has the best texture, the freshest taste and is the easiest to chew. Even as adults, many of us still pick the soft core out of fresh bread served in high-end restaurants. We’ll never admit it to our kids, but we all know it’s true!

I find that a child’s approach to eating a sandwich is the roadmap to success in achieving goals. To the child, there is no sorrow for what they didn’t eat. Instead, they celebrate every bite of what they wanted to eat! They eat in perfect contentment until they are full, and then they leave the rest behind. Usually, the remains are not pretty; picked over and mangled like a wild animal came and plucked all the best parts out.

The same should be true of our goals. Goals are meant to be enjoyed. They should feed the body, mind and spirit and help us grow over time. While it is easy to build a goal that looks wonderful (like a good sandwich), finishing that goal is not always uniformly enjoyable. There are parts that we really like and parts that we don’t like that much. As adults, we try to force ourselves through what we don’t like by using discipline, logic and will power. Parents use the same tactics when trying to get their kids to eat the crust. And often, like parents, we find ourselves frustrated and defeated when our tactics don’t work. Even worse, we look back on the whole experience as a failure. Rather than approach our goals like the parent, I advocate that we approach them like the child.

Our April Challenge is entering its final week. Some of us may feel proud of our progress while others may feel discouraged. If challenges or doubts tempt you to quit or feel ashamed, remember what generations of children have taught us about bread: it is better to enjoy what we eat than it is to finish it all.

We all set goals that we knew we would enjoy. We spent three weeks overcoming distractions and making progress together. We must not let shame spoil the taste now! Keep working, keep growing, and enjoy every bite. After all, the best part of any sandwich is the core – not the crust!

Spies Like Me

Posted on February 24, 2017March 3, 2017 by Andrew Bustamante

I was a covert intelligence officer for the US Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) living and operating under cover for nearly a decade. SPOILER ALERT – spying is not like you see in the movies. Yes, we get code names. Yes, we travel around the world on someone else’s dime. No, we do not drive nice cars. No, we do not get cutting-edge tech that fits inside a watch. But the most important thing to understand about spies is this – we are alone and we hate it.

In 2011 I was called to serve in a countersurveillance operation in a large metropolitan city in Asia. I was briefed only on the details I needed to know and given two pictures – one of the foreign agent and one of a fellow CIA officer traveling to meet the agent. My objective was to blend in with the crowd and keep a watchful eye from a distance for anyone taking a suspicious interest in the agent meeting.

Another difference from the movies is that spying is not glamorous. We do not wear bespoke suits and drink martinis while rubbing elbows with social elites. Spies are more like drug dealers, digging around in dark, dirty places selling treason to bad people. By virtue of the people we do business with, security is the top priority during operations. A spy that gets caught is an international incident. A spy that gets away lives to spy another day.

I tracked my targets on foot as they travelled through public venues engaged in hushed espionage. After nearly two hours, the two parted ways and I continued my look out to make sure neither was followed in their departure. Success – my mission was complete and I could start my own trip back home.

On that trip home I was struck by an urgent idea; I needed to leave CIA. Spies do not live in the real world. We operate in alias names, operate in cities where we do not live, and befriend people we do not like. Because of this parallel existence, spies only do what has to be done to maintain security rather than take risks to pursue great achievements. There are of course exceptions to the rule; the few outstanding officers who are selfless and uniquely dedicated in service to their country. But as with any other workplace, the few are not the norm.

I left CIA because I believed that ambition and passion would lead to a better life while security and secrecy would end only in loneliness. I believed that I needed genuine relationships to shape me into the person I was meant to be. Complacency is a slow infection – it robs us of creativity, passion and purpose and convinces us that we cannot be who we want to be; cannot do what we want to do; and cannot achieve what we want to achieve.

Just like popular movies glorify the life of spies, popular culture glorifies the life of those who ‘fit in.’ Both are works of fiction. Many of us live like spies, choosing to conceal our identity in order to blend in with the world around us. Rather than commit ourselves to great achievement, we instead do only what we must to maintain a sense of security while surrounded by people we do not like, engaged in work that does not challenge us. We justify our actions by calling them ‘responsible decisions,’ or ‘social obligations,’ or ‘necessary steps’. In the end, however – just like so many spies – we feel alone and we hate it.

Me.Now. invites all people living like spies to realize the possibilities of a deliberate life; to write a story for ourselves. Complacency is a perpetual foe that seeks to divide rather than unite. Like a spy, we are only alone for as long as we choose to stay in hiding. Once we choose to give up our cover and step into reality, we can find a community that enables us to achieve great things and a better future.