It was a week spent nearly entirely in Michigan.
I started off with a trip up to Ortonville, Michigan, to see my dear friend and mentor, Rex. It was time for some in-person work together, and it was well timed.
Coming off a two week stretch at home gave me plenty of time to think before seeing Rex. I rattled off a ton of shit and then also a laundry list of things to be improved upon.
Something we covered for a while is nature and our role on this planet. (Spoiler alert, this set the tone for the whole week.) The role we play in this ecosystem, this universe we’re in.
At one point, Rex mentioned the feeling of mourning when something/someone is gone, but then the planet, the animals, the earth, it keeps moving.
It just keeps unfolding.
Not as if that thing wasn’t there, but because it’s a natural progression.
That person, that plant, that thing, it existed in the way it was supposed to, and now there is a void, but earth keeps expressing itself.
Whether it was a chicken dying in the coop or a tree dying in the woods, it was the same natural progression.
We’re all having an experience here on this planet, and when it’s over, the planet (hopefully) continues on.
Then it led back to me. The following conversation led directly into my experience at The Chaldean Open (golf tournament) this week.
One fear I have, which was the foundation of my discussion with Rex, is my purpose on earth and dying without fulfilling my purpose.
And then it came out… Dying without being important.
Ah yes, that moment. The need to feel important to the earth and, most importantly in the short term, others around me.
There it is… The toxic tonic I’ve been gargling for many years.
I could feel myself not being seen as “important” during times at the tournament, and I would go out of my way, with my evidential mind completely in charge, to highlight something about myself.
This happened at an increasing rate as I became more fatigued as the week went on.
Instead of having an experience and taking things in, I was increasingly trying to shine a light on myself. Now, to be fair, after digesting, I realized it wasn’t all that often, but none of the instances were necessary.
None of them was I in alignment, or as many people call it, centered.
“This doesn’t need to be about you, Stephen. You’re a part of the group, and that’s all you really want to be. You want to be present as love because that’s who you (and everyone else there) are.”
That was the constant monologue afterwards.
I did it because it’s a group of guys, successful guys, that I don’t see very often, and I really want to feel like I belong.
I wanted to feel like they valued me being there.
I put myself in an environment where all I needed to do was be present, and I had many moments where I slipped. I had a rough Saturday, beating myself up about it, but came out on Sunday, here in this writing, in a better mental space.
I’m now settled back in Houston, taking time to recenter myself and thinking about my appreciation for the experience this past week with Rex and the Chaldean Open.
It’s important for me to highlight the incredible conversations I had with wonderful men whom I admire. I was able to hear stories about everyone’s most influential person in their lives as they shared at our big dinner on Thursday evening.
I was in the room with men who had worked countless hours to build careers and relationships. I learned from every one of them.
The greatest wisdom I received was when I realized they were all there to be a part of something special, something bigger than themselves.
That’s what really hit me. It was everyone together like a big group of beautiful trees at the end of a field, playing their role on this planet.
I’m thankful that I was able to be one of the trees this weekend.
Here’s to being the best tree I can be, and that being more than enough.
– SJ
PS: Thanks to Steve Kherkher for inviting me again this year. I learn a lot every year I’m in attendance, and whether you notice or not, it means a lot to me to be there. Thanks for taking a chance on me.