Charles Gupton

Story

Learning to Court Your Monster

This past September, I had the pleasure of joining a couple hundred visionary thinkers and leaders at an event produced by Jonathan and Stephanie Fields and their support crew under the umbrella of their Good Life Project. 

On the last night of the event, a talent show was held with the idea, as I understood it at the time, that it’d be a fun, mindless event with a handful of people doing some songs, silly skits, and maybe a few trivial tricks.

It was anything but.

Barry Solway’s book will delight your heart and soul!

 

For over three hours, people took the stage and opened their souls with raw – and often times very polished – talent. I’ve never experienced an occasion in which an audience was moved from doubled-over laughter to heart-touching tears and back again with such frequency. Or the number of standing ovations genuinely given in response to the shear amazement elicited by so many varied presentations.

One of those who did all three was Barry Solway. Barry tentatively, almost apologetically, read a story he’d written for his niece off his iPhone. Not only did he have folks laughing, but midway through almost everyone was crying. When he finished, folks leapt to their feet with applause and cheers. So great was the response that a team of believers surrounded Barry and helped get his book into print before Christmas.

You can read a post about the event from Jonathan Fields’ blog this week. You can also order either a print or electronic copy of Courtship of the Monster Under the Bed here.

Read it with your child. Read it to your child. Read it for your inner child. You’re welcome.

~ Charles

 

 

 

 

 

 

Regret for Time Spent in Regret

Regret occurs in our lives when the consequences of “bad” choices we make slam into the ideal we have of ourselves as good people.

Three recent examples from my life:

• I did not complete a written contract for a project several months ago before undertaking the work. That oversight led to a number of misunderstandings and miscommunications that have bogged down the project, wasted an inordinate amount of time, and potentially exacted a huge toll on the working relationships.

• I loaned money to a buddy to try to help him get out of a financial bind only to learn that he’s used the resources to dig a deeper hole of debt to climb out of rather than use good judgment to get out of the mid-sized hole he was in when he came to me.

• I did not move fast enough when an elderly family member was taken advantage of regarding her health care and finances. Had I moved more quickly and decisively, I believe I could have prevented a legal and personal quagmire that has lasted three years to date.

Although I consider myself fairly reasoned and intelligent, in each situation, I allowed urgency to over-shadow my better judgment. I was caught up in the busyness of too many commitments, and simply tried to make an important decision without the clarity of quiet separation from the critical issue at hand.

Because I see myself as thoughtful and deliberate, each of these oversights was like a kick in my stomach and something I greatly regretted doing. But each instance has also taught me a huge lesson in discernment.

What I am learning is that the bridge needed to cross the chasm that separates regret from wisdom is built with personal forgiveness and grace. In none of the situations did I intend to do something wrong.

By moving away from regret and towards understanding, I spend less unproductive time wallowing in shame and more constructive energy producing work that can have an impact for other people. Wallowing in regret and shame drains my heart of the willingness to risk again, if I let it.

If you do anything of any substance, that has any chance of making a difference in people’s lives, you’re going to face failure. And when you do, regret is going to raise its nasty head. I’ve yet to learn how to decapitate and leave it for dead. But I am learning to not sit down with it and let it devour me. I’m learning to build that bridge and move to greater wisdom.

In my work with clients, I frequently hear mistakes and regrets pop up in our discussions. The fear of making errors shuts them off to possibilities. I try to use those conversations as a sounding board to hear my own angst and address it. Because often we can’t recognize our fears until they’re revealed in the lives around us.

How about you? What are your regrets? How are they holding your story hostage?

Charles

 

Suffering a Loss in Your Narrative

We left home last Wednesday with great anticipation for the week ahead. We had two profiles to film as part of an ongoing project and a conference to attend. Both had our creative juices flowing. We were giddy with expectation.

Because we have six cows on pasture and a small flock of chickens – in addition to our dog and two cats – we have to make extra provisions for animal care compared to our urban counterparts. For instance, we know if the cows run low on grass in a pasture, at least one of the steers has an inclination to jump the fence looking for greener opportunities. And a cow getting in the road is a car wreck and a multi-million dollar lawsuit just waiting to happen.

As we rolled down the drive, I glanced over at the layer flock with a passing thought: “I hope today’s rain doesn’t cause the chickens’ electric fence net to sag over.” We were running about 30 minutes past our planned departure with a set time to meet one of our interviewees in Knoxville. I reassured my internal alarm with the knowledge that our neighbors were watching over our animals. And anyway, we can’t stay home and be on the road doing our work, so we had to get going.

Feathers remain caught in the electric net for days after the attack of wandering dogs.

There are times you don’t want your caller ID to show a friendly face. Friday morning at 6:11 was one of them.

Our flock of 23 layers had been decimated by a pack of dogs overnight.

When a pack of domestic dogs attacks, it’s for “fun” and it’s a bloody mess. Although several were dead, many had to be put down because they were still living but too torn up to survive. Four birds survived and we hope they’ll heal and be capable of laying eggs again.

While we grieve for the chickens – and the great eggs! – we’ve lost, the fear that so quickly escalates is the vulnerability we feel to spiritual and emotional attack when we are most open to pursuing our hearts’ desires for adventure and doing the work that, we believe, has the greatest impact.

The irony is that, at our core, we understand that our lives need to be vulnerable if we’re going to do anything that has meaning or makes a difference in the world. The higher the stakes, the more exciting the game becomes.

Most people say they want an interesting life. But most people don’t want any of their own skin in the game. It’s great to be a raving, lunatic fan of your favorite sports team, but that’s a far cry from putting yourself on the field of play.

As we got the heart-kicking news of the dog attack, we were getting ready to head to the Storyline conference we were in Nashville to attend. My first reaction was that of the angry victim – “Why did this have to happen while we’re so far from home and so out of control?”  But when are we ever really in control?

In the moment, I had to stop the questions of doubt and accusation in my mind and replace them with statements of fact about what I could and could not do. There is action I can take that will minimize our loss but I can never eliminate the possibility of disaster.

The most important decision we each made in the moment was to not allow a fog of anger and fear to settle in our hearts. We decided to accept the pain and move into the day with excitement and the anticipation that learning and being challenged held for us. I didn’t try to ignore my grief. But I didn’t allow it to frame my days either.

There are going to be attacks and losses in our lives regardless of what we do. But if we don’t embrace them as part of a greater narrative and push through them to a redeeming conclusion – if we allow the attacks to define us rather than us define them – then of what real value is the struggle?

Charles

 

Fake it ‘til You Make…What?

We’ve all done it at some point. Most do it to some degree every day. We act, in front of other people, as if things are going well when we don’t ourselves have the confidence that they are. We’re hoping that we can simply “fake it ‘til we make it.”

Just as there is evidence that smiling when you don’t feel happy will make you happier, there is great evidence that “acting as if” something will happen greatly increases the likelihood of that “something” happening. It truly does help to believe in a vision as a means of making it come true.

Does “faking it” help or hamper your road to success?

I’ve been striving for so long to hit some of my career goals that I no longer know whether I’m “faking” my belief that perseverance will lead to success or whether my belief is really real. And does it really matter?

However, can there be a point at which believing that something will succeed, even in the face of all evidence that it won’t, hampers the ability to move ahead in a new direction, with a new solution, that does have a chance of getting us where we want to be?

That question has infused my mind for the past several days after I had a conversation with a friend this week. She’s been more evasive than normal, wearing an “everything’s great” facade like a smile-on-a-stick. As she started to explain how hectic, but great, everything’s been going, she broke down in tears to say that although her career was taking a turn for the better, her marriage has been crumbling over the past year.

The desire to keep up an appearance of success in her community was critical for her to not be seen as “damaged goods” while looking for a new job. Although I understand, I also wonder how much emotional fuel we burn trying to maintain appearances rather than using that energy to get where we need to be. Who do we want in our community, people who understand the complexity of juggling life’s ups and downs — or those who live to judge?

What is the life that we’re making that makes up for all of our faking?

Charles

What Distinctives Make You Distinctive?

A number of years back, I ventured into the area of personal portrait work. I wanted to apply the storytelling approach I took with commercial assignments to the world of family portraits. My venture was not the raging success I wanted, partly because most folks couldn’t picture themselves doing something that wasn’t just like what their friends were doing.

To dig into the story of a family, I would ask a number of questions to give me insights into how we could capture a portrait that was distinctive to them. Although the answers that were most revealing led to better portraits, many people could not come up with anything distinctive about themselves or what their purpose was.

In one particularly alarming case, a mother came back to me several days after our meeting. She was angry that, “There are no activities that bind our family together because we’re four people living in separate worlds all wanting to go our separate ways!” Initially, her wrath was directed towards me for asking the questions that revealed an unsettling truth. But a couple of weeks later she called, grateful to have finally addressed an issue that was leading to a divorce.

What is even more unsettling is the number of business owners that I talk with who don’t know their distinctive purpose or reason for being either. Rather than dig into the uncomfortable process of discovering their story, they simply ignore the process and go about their business using the standard operating procedures that everyone else in their field is using. Yielding to peer pressure to be like, and look like, everyone else.

Most people are looking for a new set of tools, or life-hacks, that are going to give them an edge. But any improvements that are based on technology or a formula are also available to their competition.

The only distinctive that sets you apart is your unique story. Your history, world-view, and vision. Telling that story to the world allows your potential clients, employees, and partners to connect with you in a way that they never can with anyone else.

It’s your distinctive story that moves you from being a commodity in your market to being a competition of one.

Charles