It’s not by the shadow of a groundhog that I know when seasons are on the cusp of change in Mannheim. No, seasons are marked for me when an 1800-pound lemon on neoprene tires rolls directly in front of my two home office windows, and I’m suddenly overcome with thirst for a cool drink. Within a few days, the lemon will be replaced by a Colossal Onion marking the end of water fights and hide and seek and warm nights under the stars.
I’ve come to love the predictability of the lemon and the onion. It means my neighbour is home from feeding hungry cowboys at the Calgary Stampede and tough food critics at the Canadian National Exhibition. It means he can finally stop, rest, and refill his well; cuddle in with his bride and hibernate through winter.
But stopping, isn’t something Clay Metcalf has ever really done well. He was already “in business” at twelve, running an 8×8 booth full of candy apples, floss, and caramel corn. He learned math by counting out change, and the relationship between hard work and financial reward. He learned how to hustle, create instant rapport, and build relationships that have spanned decades. He bought trucks, booked and built his route, grew his crew to 30, created a brand, and trademarked it all.
But I’m going to bet if Clay had made an appointment with his high school gym teacher, doubling as the school guidance counsellor, in a cramped re-imagined closet of an office, he would not have been encouraged to pursue a career in the “outdoor amusement food service industry”.
Lofty visions of lemons and onions or any other career not listed on the faded poster taped crookedly to the wall, doesn’t generally go down well. The twists of fate that lead us to unimagined lives aren’t always understood by linear thinkers. But, I looooove those careers, and the remarkable people that have the courage to live them out.
As I type, looking down at my “Sun, Sea, & Sand In My Pants” yellow nail polish, I know Suzi Weiss-Fischmann, a woman who names nail polishes for a living, would have had a similarly awkward conversation with her guidance counsellor. Dreaming up: “You Don’t Know Jacques” taupe or “I’m Not Really A Waitress” red for OPI and getting paid for it would have be considered a bit of a long shot. Or, how about Travelodge’s “Director of Sleep”, Wayne Munnelly who gets paid to nap while testing the quality of pillows, blankets, and mattresses? Or John Harrison who works for Dreyer’s Ice Cream, tasting 60 ice creams a day? They’ve all found the thing that makes their heart sing, the thing they’d do for free, but getting paid for it makes it even sweeter.
Clay describes the work he loves, so vividly it plays out in my mind’s eye like a movie in slow motion. He loves the high energy challenge of meeting supply with demand; when his team works in unison at lightning speed, shouting, singing, adrenaline pumping. It requires precision, there’s high stress, and keeping up and keeping things under control is the measure that success. When the crowd dissipates, his team marks the moment with high fives and fist bumps. Clay lives for that moment knowing he created the conditions required for his team to experience the magic of high performance. This is where he finds deep meaning, making it worth the time away from family and friends, the monotonous set up and take down city to city, and bearing witness to the best and worst of humanity.
Clay lives for that moment knowing he created the conditions required for his team to experience the magic of high performance. This is where he finds deep meaning, making it worth the time away from family and friends…
I’ve interviewed professional athletes, politicians, celebrities, thought leaders, and everything in between. I love asking if they have any regrets. Rarely are any mentioned. There seems to be a collective belief that because every twist and unexpected turn, every decision made, has added up to the moment they’re in, they wouldn’t change a thing. They’ve found joy in landing exactly where they are and they use words like, deeply meaningful to describe their journeys and careers.
Learning what’s deeply meaningful to you and to those you love, is time well spent. Excavating the specifics of what we love about naming nail polish, napping, eating ice cream, or squeezing lemons for a living, requires that we dig deep to the core of what we value most. And through this process, we’re gifted the insight as to where that feeling can be transferred to other places in our life.
This is good news in the midst of Covid-19 with many of us having to take on more while living with less or needing to find something new altogether. Finding meaning as we reinvent, is the magic golden key to joy.
My globe-trotting neighbour Clay was stopped in his tracks by a dark- haired beauty in a red dress, named Lana on a random Tuesday night at Oktoberfest in Kitchener, Ontario. Being at that event, on that night, at that exact hour, led to the greatest love he has ever known. In lockdown, his trucks have been parked. Instead of travel and time away, he’s had a taste of “early retirement” and to his surprise he’s learned that the time he spends with Lana and the love he has for her, holds the greatest meaning for him above the adrenaline and high performance.
And so, the lemons and onions will wait.
It’s not by the shadow of a groundhog that I know when seasons are on the cusp of change in Mannheim. No, seasons are marked for me when an 1800-pound lemon on neoprene tires rolls directly in front of my two home office windows, and I’m suddenly overcome with thirst for a cool drink. Within a few days, the lemon will be replaced by a Colossal Onion marking the end of water fights and hide and seek and warm nights under the stars.
I’ve come to love the predictability of the lemon and the onion. It means my neighbour is home from feeding hungry cowboys at the Calgary Stampede and tough food critics at the Canadian National Exhibition. It means he can finally stop, rest, and refill his well; cuddle in with his bride and hibernate through winter.
But stopping, isn’t something Clay Metcalf has ever really done well. He was already “in business” at twelve, running an 8×8 booth full of candy apples, floss, and caramel corn. He learned math by counting out change, and the relationship between hard work and financial reward. He learned how to hustle, create instant rapport, and build relationships that have spanned decades. He bought trucks, booked and built his route, grew his crew to 30, created a brand, and trademarked it all.
But I’m going to bet if Clay had made an appointment with his high school gym teacher, doubling as the school guidance counsellor, in a cramped re-imagined closet of an office, he would not have been encouraged to pursue a career in the “outdoor amusement food service industry”.
Lofty visions of lemons and onions or any other career not listed on the faded poster taped crookedly to the wall, doesn’t generally go down well. The twists of fate that lead us to unimagined lives aren’t always understood by linear thinkers. But, I looooove those careers, and the remarkable people that have the courage to live them out.
As I type, looking down at my “Sun, Sea, & Sand In My Pants” yellow nail polish, I know Suzi Weiss-Fischmann, a woman who names nail polishes for a living, would have had a similarly awkward conversation with her guidance counsellor. Dreaming up: “You Don’t Know Jacques” taupe or “I’m Not Really A Waitress” red for OPI and getting paid for it would have be considered a bit of a long shot. Or, how about Travelodge’s “Director of Sleep”, Wayne Munnelly who gets paid to nap while testing the quality of pillows, blankets, and mattresses? Or John Harrison who works for Dreyer’s Ice Cream, tasting 60 ice creams a day? They’ve all found the thing that makes their heart sing, the thing they’d do for free, but getting paid for it makes it even sweeter.
Clay describes the work he loves, so vividly it plays out in my mind’s eye like a movie in slow motion. He loves the high energy challenge of meeting supply with demand; when his team works in unison at lightning speed, shouting, singing, adrenaline pumping. It requires precision, there’s high stress, and keeping up and keeping things under control is the measure that success. When the crowd dissipates, his team marks the moment with high fives and fist bumps. Clay lives for that moment knowing he created the conditions required for his team to experience the magic of high performance. This is where he finds deep meaning, making it worth the time away from family and friends, the monotonous set up and take down city to city, and bearing witness to the best and worst of humanity.
Clay lives for that moment knowing he created the conditions required for his team to experience the magic of high performance. This is where he finds deep meaning, making it worth the time away from family and friends…
I’ve interviewed professional athletes, politicians, celebrities, thought leaders, and everything in between. I love asking if they have any regrets. Rarely are any mentioned. There seems to be a collective belief that because every twist and unexpected turn, every decision made, has added up to the moment they’re in, they wouldn’t change a thing. They’ve found joy in landing exactly where they are and they use words like, deeply meaningful to describe their journeys and careers.
Learning what’s deeply meaningful to you and to those you love, is time well spent. Excavating the specifics of what we love about naming nail polish, napping, eating ice cream, or squeezing lemons for a living, requires that we dig deep to the core of what we value most. And through this process, we’re gifted the insight as to where that feeling can be transferred to other places in our life.
This is good news in the midst of Covid-19 with many of us having to take on more while living with less or needing to find something new altogether. Finding meaning as we reinvent, is the magic golden key to joy.
My globe-trotting neighbour Clay was stopped in his tracks by a dark- haired beauty in a red dress, named Lana on a random Tuesday night at Oktoberfest in Kitchener, Ontario. Being at that event, on that night, at that exact hour, led to the greatest love he has ever known. In lockdown, his trucks have been parked. Instead of travel and time away, he’s had a taste of “early retirement” and to his surprise he’s learned that the time he spends with Lana and the love he has for her, holds the greatest meaning for him above the adrenaline and high performance.
And so, the lemons and onions will wait.