Before we headed into the park, I spent a bit of additional time hanging out with my cousins’ six month old son (in all honesty, my brother and I “borrowed” him and walked him around the hotel for a bit, eventually ending up in our room). All of my cousins have super cute kids. I’ve mentioned this fact on a regular basis. As I hung out with the newest addition to the family, I was fascinated.

He was on the verge of crawling.

But he wasn’t crawling yet. Seriously, he is so close. I wouldn’t be surprised if he starts crawling moments after I post this blog, but on Sunday, he still wasn’t there.

He was almost there.

It was a sight to see. There he was, using every ounce of strength to lift himself up, or try to pull himself forward, or try to kick his legs as hard as he could–it just wasn’t all coordinated yet.

He could move a little bit forward, occasionally grabbing a desired object, but only occasionally. He’d sometimes roll to get to some place, but he still couldn’t quite crawl…

…yet.

We would all encourage him, and for a minute or so, he’d give it everything he got, until he final gave up in frustration or minor exhaustion. He might try again thirty minutes later, but he still couldn’t do it (yet).

So I sat there, watching him, and thinking about effort.

I saw him truly give it everything, and I honestly couldn’t think of a time in recent memory where I pushed myself to that degree. I couldn’t think of a time in recent memory where I pushed myself so hard that I truly grew in the process.

Yes, I’ve taken on challenges. Yes, I’ve reached new goals.

But I don’t think I’ve pushed myself to that level.

I read an article a few years ago about the development that takes place in that first year of life. We learn a new language. We build new relationships. We identify objects. We go through massive amounts of strength building. It’s really incredible. The article described the development as the equivalent of training for a 100+ mile run, increasing your weight lifting 4-5 times over, and becoming fluent in 2-3 languages while reading a novel a day (I may be slightly off in my statistics, but you get the idea). All of this happens in a very limited period of time.

And then we grow up.

And sadly, we get a little too comfortable.

So today, I want to challenge you to crawl forward again.

Pick up a new goal this year. Pick up a new challenge. Push yourself to do something extreme.

I’m going to think about this for a bit, and hopefully announce a cool challenge that I’ll take on. Let me know what you decide to do even though you might not have accomplished it…

…yet.

bills, ASU Alumni magazine, coupons for the store…

…and a special mailing from Bath & Body Works talking about their new DARK KISS line to help me seduce “him?”

It’s addressed to me, Patrick Maurer.

First, I’m not a gay man. Still, I’m basically 100% positive that even my gay friends would never wear this line. It’s a line obviously designed for females and they are sending it to me, a male.

Bath & Body Works isn’t the first to do this. On a recent trip to Ulta to buy some hair product, face soap, and a men’s grooming kit, I was asked to provide my email address. I did, but now I’m bombarded with messages for makeup, lip gloss, and fragrances. I’ve tried to customize the email messages, so I only get emails about “men’s products,” but the computer doesn’t seem to recognize it, so I’ve removed myself from the mailing list.

Of course none of these are as fun as what my dad received last year. Luckily my sisters also happened to be in town so we could watch our dad open up his special package from Kotex especially for him (apparently they thought my dad, proud father of four adult children, would be the perfect person to market their U by Kotex product to). We all had a good laugh at this one.

The problem? It’s a generic message sent to the masses.

Bath & Body Works and Ulta DO have products for males–it’s why I’ve shopped at those places in the first place, but it seems to be too difficult to try to develop communication for their male audiences. I even went to Hallmark last week, but had difficulty finding Thank You cards that didn’t look like they came from the nursery of a 3 year old girl–and people wonder why men don’t send many handwritten notes.

I’m not attempting a rant companies treatment of male. Not at all. I get the idea of product demand. Still, I wonder if some of these companies could make some simply modifications that would encourage a more diverse customer base–especially since they already have products for those customers.

And it also got me thinking about our schools and our organizations.

How often are we sending out one generic message to the masses and failing to truly communicate with out own diverse customer bases? Are we regularly neglecting people simply by trying a one size fits all?

I’m very well aware that this blog does that almost every time I type since the audience is students and teachers, students from diverse organizations, students from different countries, different states, different ages, etc. But I do try to make that conscious effort to reach my diverse audience by addressing different ideas.

Are you?

Go beyond a mail merge and learn about your real audience.

I’m trying.

(but please let me know how I can do better)

The Trust Walk is nothing new. Many organizations do it, and I’m a huge advocate of this taking place at night. Bishop Manogue has a gorgeous two story indoor campus, allowing some great opportunities for the activity. Since there was an odd number of participants, I took part in the walk as well, pairing up with a student.

During the first part, I was the “eyes,” providing relevant details about our location on campus, the upcoming obstacles, and reassuring safety measures. I keep calm. I continue to talk to let the person know I’m nearby. I reassure. I’ve lead the activity several times over the years, so I know what (most people) like to hear during the time in which their eyes are closed. I’m biased–I did a good job.

But then it was my turn to close my eyes. To be honest, I hadn’t done THIS part since high school. Okay, I’ve done it a bit, but in a large gym during a mini-walk at a leadership day. Now I was on the second floor of a building I barely knew with an understanding that I’d soon be walking six or so minutes back across the campus and also down a staircase.

I don’t want to fault my partner. She actually did an INCREDIBLE job of providing specific instructions. She kept calm. I didn’t bump into anything. I didn’t get hurt. I didn’t fall I knew where the stairs were (and she even counted steps down to the floor for me). But I have to admit, I was still a little scared. When I was the eyes, I was able to provide details about the campus, naming specific artwork or room names. She did the same, but I don’t know the campus, and so I really didn’t know where I was (even though she was giving really good directions).

So I walked slower. I was more hesitant.

And it made me think about beginning something new.

First, I think that if we are the more “experienced” people are on campuses, it’s time for us to step up and get ready for all of the new students to join us. What can we do to welcome them in? How do we welcome them in? How can we help them open their eyes? I’m a huge fan of schools that utilize Link Crew for their high school or WEB for their middle school. Both of these programs are excellent “eyes” for new students and empower leaders to truly mentor new students.

Second, I think if we recognize our eyes are closed, we need to be open to trust. It took me quite some time, but when we finally got to the last hallway or so, I picked up my pace just a bit and trusted. I didn’t know exactly where I was (or perhaps as well as my partner who regularly walked the hallways), but I began to realize she wasn’t going to let me fail. Even then though, if I had failed, the worst thing that would have happened would be that I’d walk into a wall (the stairwell was way behind me). At this point, it’s a matter of me being willing to walk. In other words, don’t delay your success simply because you might have a minor failure.

Just some quick thoughts. I hope you all are able to open your eyes this year and help others see their possibility!

(ps–many thanks to the student leaders at Bishop Manogue)

It’s known as The Code. If you owned the original Nintendo, you knew it. You may not own the game Contra, but you knew The Code. My cousin taught it to me. At first I didn’t believe him. How could a series of buttons during a title sequence affect so much?

But it did.

Once you knew it, you shared it with others. The result was always the same.

“You’re lying.”
“No. Seriously, it works.”
“Prove it.”
“No way. That’s AWESOME!”

I have played Contra only once without using the code. I’ve heard rumors of friends of friends who’ve beaten the game without using the code, but to this day still know of no one personally. The 3 lives just make it seem impossible, but with 30 (which is what the code provides), the game was beatable. You could take that riskier move, take the bolder shot, and really approach the game with a confidence. For the first time in a video game, Nintendo allowed the player to think “when” not simply “if.”

Keep in mind, this was huge at the time. Sure today’s games have multiple player profiles with unlocked levels and progress saved every few moments. Most of the games in the 80’s didn’t have those features. If you wanted to beat Contra, you sat down and played until you defeated Red Falcon and called it a day. A few games perpetuated this lack of a save feature continued longer than they should. I remember a friend of mine playing Jurassic Park the video game for three solid days in college, putting the game on pause for hours at a time while he went to class, until he ultimately finished at 2am one night (I’ll admit I was bummed as I definitely watched hours of playing time, but not the final victory screen). Contra didn’t require this type of time dedication, but the lives were limited and why would you play with only three, when with a few extra button clicks, you could have thirty.

It was the code and it brought us confidence.

The irony is that although I was raised in the code world, few of us actually experience the code in our daily lives. Most of us probably feel like we enter into new opportunities with a deficit rather than an advantage. Many graduating from college this weekend will enter into a volatile job market with huge debt, not a huge savings account. They’ll likely feel the pinch of the economy, the pinch of an entry-level position, and the pinch of doubt.

Many in high school still approach their days as if they are lacking. They are afraid to take on that new challenge, afraid to join that organization or run for that office, afraid of asking out that special person. Quite simply, they worry about how much rejection or failure they can take.

And yet, what if we lived our lives like we had The Code?

In Contra, you still died. You still lost lives, but you always knew that you had another shot–not an infinite amount so you’d be completely reckless, but enough to finish the task.

In these difficult times, let’s make The Code happen again. Let’s not live lives of deficiency, but rather lives of abundance and hope. No, this doesn’t mean we are irresponsible with money or dangerous with our decisions, but it means that live with a certain level of confidence that asks again “when” we will achieve, “when” we will serve, “when” we will lead, rather than “if” we ever can.

Up Up Down Down Left Right Left Right B A Start

The elliptical I used today was in perfect view of the Kids Club at my gym. I find it to be a hilarious scene, often times with the biggest, toughest guys in the gym transforming into their “daddy” roles, or a gaggle of kids emerging with an exhausted mom who probably enjoyed her only “me” time of the day. Today, one of the little guys caught my eye.

He couldn’t have been more than one and a half. He was small, wearing those funny baby pants that would be shorts on any normal human being, but fit babies perfectly. He stood at the door. His dad was in the process of checking him out of the club, but seemed to be having a conversation with the babysitters. The little guy wanted out.

Over the course of five minutes, he attempted over and over again to open up the door. He’d stand on his tippy-toes, grab the handle, and bring it down, only to be confused by what to do next. He looked directly at me a few times, apparently in hopes of getting a clue, but I didn’t think assisting in an escape was my best option. After every attempt, he’d look back at his dad–not to get sympathy, but to check if anyone was watching–and then try again. A few times he almost lost his balance, but he never fell down. He just grabbed that handle and released the door, unable to physically push it open.

Halfway through this, the other kids in the room, saw what he was doing. They moved closer to the baby gate, not even attempt to grab its handle. I imagine if they could talk it would sound like that scene from The Waterboy, but they were too young, and so instead they looked at him, eyes filled with hope.

I was surprised by the little guy’s disposition. He never cried, never whined, and never gave up.

Failure.

Tippy-toes, grab handle, release door latch, and…

Failure.

Tippy-toes, grab handle, release door latch, and…

Failure.

Finally, his dad picked up his gym bag, turned around, picked up the little guy with one arm, and carried him out of the gym.

I still had some more time left on the elliptical, providing me a moment to think.

I wonder if we are still really attempting to open up the doors in our life. Sure, there are the easy ones we walk through, but are we really problem solving anymore or pushing ourselves? When was the last time you attempted something in life that required you to get on your tippy-toes, only to fail again? When you did fail, did you turn around and look for sympathy, or did you try again?

I’m not saying I’m perfect at this. To be honest, I think I’ve been waiting for some to open doors for me, but part of me isn’t satisfied with that. Part of me wants to step up and try something tougher.

What about you?

I also tend to root for Fiesta Bowl placement. It tends to mean friends from other schools come into town and I can play host becoming a pseudo fan for the weekend (as my true allegiance will always lie with my Arizona State Sun Devils).

This year was different though. The odd BCS system ended up with the strange combination of TCU and Boise State, two “bowl busters” now playing each other. Like quite a bit of America, I wasn’t as fascinated with this game as I might have been if TCU or Boise State had a chance to take on one of the major conference teams, but this was the game that took place.

Still, it was an interesting game, with TCU never quite gaining it’s stride. For me, the coolest moment took place in the fourth quarter.

Boise State faked a punt. It was 4th and 9 from their own 33, and Boise State makes a gutsy call. If you haven’t seen it yet, watch it.

I like the risk involved with this. It reminded me of another play from an Idaho team I had seen days earlier when Idaho State defeated Bowling Green on a two-point conversion with 4 seconds remaining.

Again, the risk factor is appealing. There is something about doing something that goes against the norm a bit, being bold, and living with the consequences. I know that if either one of these plays didn’t work the coaches would have been ridiculed by fans and the media, but because they were bold and they did work, the coaches were praised. Highlight reels included these plays and people continue to talk about them.

Yes, there are times for security, for consistency, for staying on a charted course.

But there are also times for bold action.

I realize that far often than I would like to admit, I play the safe route, kicking on a 4th and inches because I fear what would happen if I don’t get that first down. In these times I end up living a life of ordinary instead of extraordinary. That fear of failure prevents me from achieving that incredible feeling of success. You can watch these videos and see the players complete joy for accomplishing that which others think is a little bit crazy.

Both of these Idaho teams won their games.

As you being 2010, it’s important that you’re still willing to take that occasional risk. Boise State’s play worked because it was unexpected. They don’t fake every punt, but they do when it matters.

And because they are willing to take that risk, we want to talk about them.

On Friday, I watched the news shows talk about the failed Chicago bid for the 2016 Olympics.

On Saturday, I watched my Sun Devils fail to maintain a home winning streak against the Oregon State Beavers.

On Sunday, I saw a replay of the SNL opening sketch describing Obama’s failures as President so far.

I spent more of Sunday watching football and listening to commentators talk about teams’ “failure” to make a first down or get into the endzone. I read another article about California’s failed state of economy.

Fail. Fail. Fail.

It just dominated. It was negative. It lacked hope.

Then, I was reminded of the beauty of the attempt. I saw this simple video.

I fail, perhaps not as often as I should. There is something to be said about picking yourself up and going big. I learn from my mistakes and I hope I get better each time. The aim should never be failure, but if success is always a guarantee, are we truly striving?

I’m back in San Jose, California for a few weeks due to various speaking engagements, weddings, conferences, and camps. It’ll be nice to spend some time with local family and friends, and with Comedy Sportz San Jose, the family-friendly improvisational comedy troupe where I performed for four years. I arrived in time for our Tuesday night practice. People ask me, “How do you rehearse improvisation?”  The simple answer is you just get up and do it.

It’s really about stopping yourself from stopping yourself. Far too often we get in our heads and we worry about failure. Once you get over that fear, it’s a lot easier.

I’ll be performing in the 9pm show this Friday and the practice was good for me. I’m a bit rusty having not done a show in several months. Luckily, my first scene of the practice took place with the founders of Comedy Sportz San Jose. It’s a great feeling to be on stage and know that the person in the scene is not going to let you fail—that you can take that risk, and something good is going to come of it. I like that team environment.

I thought about saw a trailer for the new Pixar movie, UP. If you have a chance watch The Pixar Story. I’ve seen it twice, and the level of failure the creators of Pixar faced in their early days blows me away. Many were fired from their dream jobs for thinking outside of the box.  When they formed Pixar, they nourished that type of thinking, allowing people to decorate their cubicles however they’d like and hosting annual paper airplane contests in their cafeteria, all while putting out some of the best animated films ever.

During a Comedy Sportz rehearsal, we might take a moment to point out a habit someone is developing in character, in scene convention, in vocal patterns, etc. The Tuesday nights are used to try something different to push ourselves to another level. A few weeks ago, the cast focused just on accents. This week we spent time working on the Tarantino storytelling method. Pixar does the same thing. They purposefully break habits. When they saw that they were ending all their films with outtakes, they removed them. When they realized that everyone who directed a film was an original Pixar member, they brought in Brad Bird to challenge their way of thinking. Each film takes on a new challenge that the animators, computer programmers, and storytellers have to master. UP is no different as Pixar heads into the 3D era.

I’ve seen far too many groups hold themselves back by falling into habits and not supporting one another while they take appropriate risks. They insulate themselves from the viewpoints of outsiders, and it hurts them.

We need to not be afraid. We need to stop ourselves from stopping ourselves.