Go With The Road You Take

I look back on my life and wonder if it would have been better had I taken a course different than the one I did.

I look back on my life and wonder if it would have been better had I taken a course different than the one I did.

Examples abound: Actually they don’t. But I think of a couple.

For example, I was finishing up my time as a mission president in Santiago Chile for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, when I received a call from Elder Lorin C. Dunn, president of the area covering Southern California for the church.

I had been tipped off what the call was in reference to. I had a loyal network of friends who knew of my progress in the church. Elder Dunn was going to call me to be an area authority.

On the call he said he had “something in mind” for me when I returned to So Cal. There were so many reasons why I would have loved doing that. So Cal was my home turf. I loved it. Every morning of the majority of my life, I woke up and could smell the subtle hint of the ocean breeze. I surfed my life away there. I raised my children there. I attended my oldest daughter’s piano recital, the next one’s ballet recital. My two sons pony league baseball games, even their tee ball games, my youngest daughter’s elementary school plays.

I met my wife there, courted her, married her, with her as she gave birth to our five children.

I changed professions there. The riskiest event in our married life. I started my own business for the first time in my life. I left my secure full time profession teaching religion at age 39.

Everything, every meaningful thing in my life I experienced in So Cal. Everything I ever loved.

Now came the opportunity to continue that, as an area authority. The dream of a lifetime. I could have done it too. I could have pulled it off.

A lot went through my mind as I prepared for the conversation with Elder Dunn. Surprising things. For example I had a job offer as a corporate executive in Salt Lake City. But, I could turn it down, because we had a sizable amount of money we could live on.

I could have said to Elder Dunn, “My financial commitment is in Utah, but I can leave that if you want me to.”

But, I didn’t. I could have, but I didn’t. As you can see, it still pulls at me all these years later.

Through going back and forth, I’ve concluded that what I told LCD was my true motivation. I needed to insure my ability to make money and secure my family financially. But, where I failed was in the momentary negotiation. I didn’t leave LCD’s room to at least talk through my situation.

Surely I was smart enough to know this. But, I didn’t. Why? Perhaps subconsciously, I didn’t want to talk it over. Perhaps I had had enough. Why didn’t I say, “What do you have in mind?” But I knew what he had in mind.

I didn’t want to allow for a possible negotiation.

There was no way I was going to sacrifice my family’s financial security. I had to make up for lost ground.

Plus, I wasn’t as anxious to pursue more leadership advancement as I might have been earlier in my life.

That’s a contradiction, however, because earlier I said it still pulls at me. How do I reconcile that? In my world of Mormonism, position matters. But, In my other world, getting back to management consulting and the lifestyle it fostered mattered too.

In the very high octane Mormon religion, when someone wants to reward you with an advanced position, you don’t want to turn down that possibility. The opportunity may never come again.

But, when it came down to it, I chose the Utah option.

It seems there are always two roads. Mostly, each is good. My advice, it doesn’t matter which one you take. They’re both good enough. Yes, you may look back now and again thinking of all the good had you taken the other one. Probably, had you taken that one, you would look back on this one as well.

My advice? Pick any road, get on it, and go. It’s all good.

Life Is Hard, Be Hard