Spanish Explorer/Soldier of Fortune Hernan Cortez landed in what is today Mexico, in 1519. His plan was to not only conquer new lands for Spain, his country, he sought to secure both fame and fortune for himself. That the land he wished to claim was already someone else’s empire (the Aztecs) mattered little, for if Cortez lacked anything, it wasn’t ambitious confidence. Upon establishing his party on the beach, he ordered his men to burn the ships that had carried them across the sea. For Cortez and his company there was only one direction open to them: forward.
I’ve shared how the pandemic has impacted my industry. The company I work for has seen its revenues contract 80%, and my income has taken a huge hit. Our customers aren’t in any great hurry to reopen. “Too much uncertainty” they say. Those who are open, are buying at a greatly reduced rate. It’s going to be a long time before my industry is operating at anything close to “normal”.
I have contemplated finding something else, moving into another industry, or maybe making my side-hustle my full-time effort. Maybe I’ll restart writing the book I had stepped away from, or getting those last two licenses required to be a certified financial planner.
What has prevented me from doing this is I had convinced myself that “something is better than nothing” during this time of uncertainty. The truth is a “small comfort” is just that…small.
Yesterday afternoon, I was invited to a meeting with the company president. He’s third-generation in this family business. We’ve known each other for over 20 years. I had a feeling I knew what was the purpose of the meeting, and it was confirmed this morning: He needs to cut payroll, and my position is being eliminated. He was having a very hard time doing this, given our history. I told him not to lose another moment’s worry over this, and instead focus on keeping his company afloat. I told him I would do right by him, and my customers to transition my accounts to whomever will pick them up.
As I started my car, I looked at the building, and I saw a burning ship. Not his ship. My ship. Life had just burned it. Only one direction open: forward. I am not entirely sure what lies beyond, where the jungle meets the shore, but I do know I will not find it standing on the beach.
So I shall go forward, and I will do it sober. I won’t drink, because I don’t drink. I am a non-drinker.
I look forward to learning more from you as we travel the road of recovery together, sober, opening new doors. Cheers, mate.
