“It is not the critic who counts; not the one (man) who points out how the strong (man) stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the one (man) who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends oneself (himself) in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if one (he) fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that their (his) place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

- Theodore Roosevelt from “Citizenship in a Republic,”
 a speech delivered at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910.

True confession.

More than a few times, my mental health therapist has mentioned this quote to me. I’ll admit – with just a touch of embarrassment – that I didn’t read it. Yesterday, I did.

After 18+ years, with a global software technology company, I was “re-organized”. Code word for “let go”.  My career was never one for the headlines but I worked with some truly amazing people. Behind the scenes, we produced some cool shit. Worked with the Fortune 100. Advised C-level executives. I was told that I was resourceful, passionate, successful. Suddenly I wasn’t.

For the last six months, and who knows perhaps for my entire life, I have played it safe. Too safe. Perhaps too loyal. I’ve had some great opportunities. Made mistakes. Been lucky. Missed chances too. Bobbed like a cork in the ocean. Here I am beached on the shoreline of the rest of my career.

What is my purpose?

I’ve spent many hours reflecting on all that has transpired over the last few years. Most major life events. Loss of a parent? Check. Divorce? Check. Job loss? Check. Inertia? Check.

It’s time to move. Step into the arena. Who cares if you fail? This life is a blink of an eye; much too short to trouble oneself at the end with a regret of any failure to act.