If you stay in the military long enough, you realize that it has become your career, if that wasn’t already your intention, and you start to make decisions based on that realization. In 1998, I had almost 13 years of service; far too much of a time investment to get out and start over in the civilian world. Plus, I wasn’t ready. I had a family to support and I got very used to having a steady check, healthcare and a support network. Once I committed to the idea of finishing out at least 20 years, I started to focus on the necessary steps to advance my career.
There was saying in the military back then: “Don’t volunteer unless you’re voluntold.” In other words, keep your head down, do your job, don’t piss off the wrong person and you will make it through. You probably won’t advance, your job will never change and you won’t really be challenged, but you can coast once you reach a certain rank. At least, you could then. We were living in Montana at that time and even though the winters were long and frigid, we liked the area so much we actually looked for a house off base. More than likely, I could have finished out my career there. That’s because nobody wanted to be stuck in the “Northern Tier” bases in places like Montana, Idaho, and North and South Dakota. That’s where all the nukes are, by the way. Don’t worry, all of our enemies have known that for a long time…it’s no secret.
Usually, there were only three ways to get out of a hard-to-staff assignment: You could opt for a long overseas tour. You could apply for a special duty. Or, you could wait and eventually you would get moved…maybe. I don’t know how the other services worked, but that’s how it was in the Air Force. And once I decided to stay in the military as long as I could, I wanted to advance. I found myself bored and unchallenged in Montana. It was a small medical facility with a really small physical therapy shop and there wasn’t a whole lot going on. So, my only option was a special duty…a job outside of my career field. I had some pushback from a few of my friends and some “old timers.” That’s because taking on a special duty would do one of two things; advance or wreck your career. It was a big gamble that I anguished over for several months. “What if I get there and hate it? What if I can never get promoted again? What if we end up in crapy location?” All that ran through my mind.
Fortunately for me, I was married to someone who challenged me to challenge myself and to lean on the faith that we both shared. Not everybody has that and I will always be grateful. So, we moved from picturesque Great Falls, Montana to hot, sticky and rather backwoods Warner Robins, Georgia. And thus began “the year in hell.” I took an instructor position that ate up all of my free time. I barely saw my family and when I did, I was so stressed out and grouchy that I was about as fun as a hemorrhoid. There were times when I felt like made a terrible mistake, that I had torpedoed my career and brought a bunch of unnecessary stress on my wife and kids. However, this was definitely not the first time I had been, shall we say, uncomfortable. The four years I spent studying Budo (martial arts) in Japan taught me a lot about getting through difficulty. Patience, determination, endurance…grit. And just like my experience in martial arts, this particular assignment changed me in very impactful ways. Not only did it accelerate my career, but I garnered some unique skills, made life-long friends and I can look at that period as one of the best times in my life.
That’s the way taking chances works. If you believe in something very strongly, you need to see it through or you will spend the rest of your life wondering “what if.” It’s hard for a lot of us to see the other side of the “what if” scenario. “What if this opens up a bunch of new doors for me? What if I take a chance on this person and it ends up being wonderful? What if this opportunity is the best thing that ever happened to me?” Let’s face it, that’s typically not the way most of us look at things. We’ve all been burned and battered. We all know what it’s like to have our feelings hurt and to have our bubbles burst. The safest thing to do is to keep your head down, do your job and try not to piss anybody off. To stay on track toward your retirement so that eventually, you can have your boat, take a trip once or twice a year and enjoy the remaining years of your life. Or…you can live now. Because now, today, this moment, is all we really have. Plan for your future, sure. Don’t buy things you don’t need. Work hard, invest when you can. Be a good steward of your money. But don’t count on earthly treasures to make you happy. Do the things that challenge your faith, things that make you lean on God instead of you…and store up treasure in Heaven. Matthew 6:19-20 (MSG).
One of the best things we can do for ourselves and for others is to seek discomfort rather than comfort. To allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to have the possibility of failure. You don’t see anything new if you take the same road to and from work every day. This was the case for me when I took a job in a nursing home. How and why I ended up there is not important, but what happened during that time is. There were moments when someone needed me to be extremely patient, times when people needed to be cleaned up, spoken to gently. Moments when people were facing the end of the road and they just needed some compassion. A joke. A hug. The reassurance that everything was going to be ok. All types of emotional vulnerability that were not in my wheelhouse, parts of me I didn’t know existed until then.
What are you struggling with? Whatever it is, I’m sure you have a couple of options. The hard way, or the easy way. One keeps you on track, steady. The other forces you to answer the “what if” question. Chose wisely.
Dave Magliano
Tatsu Dojo
Jissenkan Budo
Dojo Cho