I wrote this a few weeks ago – very early one morning – when I should have been working on other things or just sleeping. It’s a sort of preamble don’t you know!

Sitting here in our kitchen in Dallas, early in the morning – the thought of being back sailing on an ocean fills me with a combination of excitement, and a little more than a tinge of trepidation – actually, an increasing amount of trepidation! I only have 2 weeks left before I embark on this next adventure. Bernadette and I were sailing down in the British Virgin Islands just a few short weeks ago and we enjoyed some really great winds and sailed on a boat with a number of issues, nothing life threatening or dangerous – just a little awkward. I tried to use that time to establish a picture of what I might experience crossing the Atlantic. It was hard though, because all around us and within easy sight were sun drenched islands – and even if Hurricanes Irma and Maria had left their mark, the beauty was still there and still awesome. But, in the BVI, not for one moment do you disappear out of view of land or leave the comfort of a VHF radio call or even a cell phone call from help (and we did need it when we lost our ability to steer – that’s the boat, not us). Even if you sail up to Anegada (which we routinely do now) – you only have to look behind you and you see mountains. I ended our sailing trip down there without any real input to what sensory and other experiences I might get crossing the Atlantic! I had stupid expectation and probably had a better idea from other sailing trips! On our last morning there, I tried to create a situation where we did nothing, but sit and read and reflect on life, sitting in the natural anchorage of the Bight on Norman Island – trying to acclimate myself to just losing time – something I am not good at doing. But, other boats came and went and we could hear people shouting at each other, especially as they tried to pick up a mooring and kept failing – something that Bernadette and I no longer experience – we pick up the moorings now first time, every time (sorry – I have to boast on this one and previous crews take note). I don’t think I will experience a lot of boats coming and going in the middle of the Atlantic – and I certainly won’t hear people arguing over mooring balls or dropping the hook –  not unless they have a unfeasibly long anchor rode! In any event, those other boats were a distraction from the attempt at building skills in the gentle art of doing sod all!

I planned this adventure – crossing the Atlantic – for various reasons – not least of which because it was one of several ambitions I had when I came off the water from sailing around Great Britain (Round a Large Island on a Small Boat). Then, it was simply an ambition without a plan – which I guess you could call a wish! I thought I would spend my time while sailing around GB figuring out the future – and if you read the blogs from then – I didn’t. Once back from that trip, I diligently set about figuring out exactly what the future needed to look like. What I actually do and have done for some time now – is constantly disrupt my own status quo and do something to make life more challenging. This clearly wasn’t a a conscious thing – it only became apparent when I tried to understand what my modus operandi had been over the years. I used to explain to folks I worked with, that the reason they found every day a bit of an uphill climb – was because they got up every morning looking for a hill to climb. And, after all of that BS to others (but BS I believed and still do), I finally accepted that was exactly what I did and I couldn’t just stop doing it after all of these years. Hill climbers climb hills!

Now, today, I don’t have what my mother would call a proper job! I do still work at doing proper things, but not likes I used to (some of the things I do even pay the bills), but, after more time than I imagined it would take, I finally figured out that going back to work in a “proper” job wasn’t going to be my plan. It took several close encounters with proper jobs to work that out, but I finally have done. I just don’t want to run something day to day and be constrained by another five year stint being lashed to the wheel of a company with all of the responsibilities and accountabilities that go with that. And, for those who think executive pay is ridiculous (and in many instances it is), you’d be shocked by the stress and strain there is in running a company properly – especially in challenging circumstance. It greatly shortens life (fact, not opinion – source IMIU) and has massive impact on one’s personal life, but, of course many other jobs do that too without the financial rewards. Running a company delivers way more than financial rewards when you do it properly but it isn’t nuclear physics. For one thing – there isn’t a Nobel Prize for running a business (not that I know of anyway).

Anyone who knows me well and especially anyone who has worked with me will know of my obsession with “purpose” – in that everything and everyone needs one. So my continuing life purpose is now becoming increasingly clear to me and I guess over the next several months, it might become increasingly clearer to you too – should you choose to engage with me and follow this blog. The first thing to note, just in case you don’t already know this – I’m going to sail the ATLANTIC! This is part of fulfilling my purpose in life – it is not THE purpose of my life! After a splendid dinner just the other night, standing outside the restaurant saying goodbyes on a warmish, clear Texas evening, a close friend was explaining to an acquaintance of ours what I was up to. This acquaintance asked the almost inevitable question that comes from such an exchange – “so, why are you doing this.” My friend started to answer the question for me like I wasn’t able to myself, but then he stopped answering and instead looked at me and then echoed the question – “why are you doing this.” Being who he is – he then still tendered a number of potential answers, none of which were completely right, and most of them hung around the principle of getting some bragging rights of sorts.

When asked, I now have two levels of answer to this question of why I am doing this and, depending on who asks it, you might get either or both. To me, the purpose seems so obvious, but may be not to everyone. Some see this is a worthy challenge and an opportunity to test myself – and that would be mostly true. Some see this as a death wish and think I am beyond stupid – and again there is some truth to the later part of that, but neither is totally or uniquely true. I have had someone tell me it seems almost selfish to do this and take on something that has inherent dangers, but leaving the house (or actually staying in the house) on any given day does, too. There are inherent dangers in almost anything we do – and explicit in many – who the hell would choose to leap out of a plane at 15,000 feet with a cape strapped to their back? The most damning question I’ve been asked is “How can you leave Bernadette and the kids again and go away on your own and do something that is totally selfish – just about you.” Well – I am doing this with Bernadette’s total support – because that’s who she is and she wants me to do things like this. These days she does wander around the house with my life Insurance policy clutched to her chest and an inane smile across her face (no – she doesn’t – just joking – she doesn’t smile outwardly – she’s much more subtle). Now, of course Bootsie will definitely miss me, but she’ll have Bernadette for all of that time and in reality – that’s all she needs to be happy and contented (although she might let the kids know I haven’t been around lately – they talk). So yes, there is a level of selfishness in this and there is a level of danger – but that’s not the answer to the question why am I doing this.

There may be some element of truth in everything people have said and in the purpose they have offered, but most of it wouldn’t be intentional on my behalf. So what is or are the purposes?

The Level One purpose I give is very simple and also accurate – “because I can.” Yes, that sounds selfish and a little vague. Maybe arrogant, but after a life of working excessive hours, giving more of myself to businesses than I care to think about, putting up with the shit that owners, shareholders, analysts, activists, employers, employees, colleagues, suppliers, lenders, buyers and anyone else involved tend to periodically throw your way – I think I’ve earned the right to do things which suit me and are part of a different life. I answer only to my family, myself and to God. So even though I have specific responsibilities to others – like the Boards of a couple of companies I sit on – I can accommodate their needs and wishes, but I would resign if necessary, rather than fail to deliver on my responsibilities to them because of my intended plans. I will no longer change life plans to accommodate work – both can be accommodated – I changed plans for years, ask Bernadette! Living life and making memories is the bigger purpose now. The tables have turned and it took a long time to figure that out.

The second level of purpose is intensely personal. I’m doing it because it is something that on the one hand fascinates me and and on the other assails my sense of order. If you bared with my previous blog, you would have come across one of the slightly surreal posts I made towards the end when I was physically and mentally exhausted – that dealt with comfort zones and our innate ability to push past the norm and into the unknown and deal with the discomfort that comes with doing so. One can do this on an every day basis in the small things and then tackle much bigger things that will provide a higher level of challenge. Perversely, there’s comfort to be found in discomfort!

Sailing around the Large Island did result in me reflecting on how I’d lived my life thus far and determining what had proved to work for me – and some time later I concluded that I always benefitted from pushing the comfort zone and learning to deal with consequences. When I stayed within the allotted guardrails – life took on a dull hue and an uncomfortable level of boredom and my performance in every aspect of my life declined. As an an employee, a boss, a father, a husband, almost everything and anything (and yes I mean in that area, too) – declined. I don’t say this about pushing comfort zones to denigrate anyone who revels in the status quo, fights change, enjoys routine, shies away from challenges – if that’s your world and if it floats your boat – go for it and reap the benefits of the personal comfort you have. It just doesn’t work for me. Period. I found that telling people something was going to happen – something that needed to be dome– even if I had no idea how I would make it happen – meant I pushed the boundaries and then did something that needed to be done. So, taking on the challenge of sailing across the Atlantic in the company of God knows who on a boat that while much bigger than anything I’ve ever sailed on in the past – will have major restrictions on personal space and facilities – will eventually float my boat! I know there is a level of danger involved here – things will go wrong and situations will have to be dealt with – stuff will test me, but ultimately, it will, I believe make me stronger and who knows – may be even an easier human being to be around – eventually.

So, the higher level of purpose is about being compelled to once again step out of my comfort zone and challenge myself to deal with the consequences of doing just that – dealing with the unknown, including guaranteed discomfort. I do take with me the certain knowledge that there will be moments of great happiness and joy and who knows, the potential to make some new close friends – hey, think about Barclay from the last trip!

I turn 60 this year. Both Bernadette and I do. We try really hard not to act or look like our parents did at this age – we shouldn’t. We’ve had much easier lives, the benefit of great healthcare (because we either lived where it was free or we were privileged enough to afford access to it — unlike the millions about to be tossed off it again here in the US – not sorry for saying that Trump fans – it’s a fact!) and resources to look after ourselves better, including the knowledge about what we need to do. Neither of our fathers made it much over 60. We have no excuses for not living for many years past 60, as long as we don’t fall to a terrible disease – like cancer, which can be so random and indiscriminate. We have all of the resources to sustain a long and very happy life – but only if we are achieving things and being useful and mentally challenged as well as physically challenged. That requires a presence of mind and a level of fulfillment. I have no intentions of seeing out my last trimester of life as a passive and inactive individual. Both Bernadette and I exercise like idiots – 6 days a week. Cardio, weights, stretching, Pilates, yoga, you name it. And, I know – I still look like this – just not fair. Just imagine what I would look like without the exercise! Turning 60 isn’t a milestone or an achievement – it’s just a fact (I’m starting to sound like a parody of someone a number of you know – “it’s a fact, Nick, a fact.”) Sailing the Atlantic in my 60^th year has a ring about it to me. It has a certain cached value – as I said, if only to me. It isn’t a tick on a bucket list – I don’t have one. It is a tick against an ambition that I have had for years – which for a long time was never as specific as this, but became specific once I understood what a passion looks and feels like. Sailing a boat is a passion for me. It’s not an obsession. If I could, I would sail much more often, but I don’t feel the need to move to the water and live on a boat. I don’t even feel the need to own a boat – not while I can afford to charter one (you must know the saying about the three f’s – rent them, don’t own them). Although lately I have been sneaking a look at boats for sale – and then I regain my senses! The feeling I get while at the wheel of a boat under sail with only the sound of the water lapping the boat (or crashing over the boat) in the company of a bunch of people, working closely together on keeping this floatation device moving broadly in a direction of our choosing – under control and safe – is unparalleled in my experience. So, it is only natural that with time and resources on my hands and a lust for challenging my daily comfort and in the process getting the cache of transporting myself across a good part of the globe that usually involves a couple of jet fueled engines – that I should choose to do what I’m doing. Sailing in the BVI is very pleasurable. It’s not a significant challenge and trust me – while the comfort zone changes, there is precious little discomfort if you’re sharing a 52 foot boat with only one other couple of your choosing and you have gizmos on the boat that almost sail the thing for you (not quite – and when those things go wrong and there’s just two of you – and one of you hasn’t much experience trimming a sail or steering a boat close to the wind – there can be a momentary massive change to your immediate comfort zone that could become permanent if that other person was any less forgiving). It fulfills one pleasure and passion, but not all.

So, I’m going to take on this adventure with delight and excitement – even though I know it will be uncomfortable and at times – disagreeable. It may even be boring for lots of the time – but I have toys and things to eradicate the boredom. And, if all else fails, I could use the time, this time, to take on some of those bigger thoughts and challenges about the future. Or, I could be sensible and just let that stuff go and just deal with them as they arise and be contented with knowing that I will forever want to wake up in the morning looking for life’s hills to climb and go to bed each night asking why the hell I chose to do that. Hill climbers climb hills and valleys are boring! Rinse and repeat!

Pip pip!

N