Since it’s the beginning of a new season, I think it’s only right that this episode dives into a very deep and personal story of mine: one that I haven’t shared public before. One that took me four years to be able to tell anyone besides my wife. I’m talking about one of the biggest upsets in my life.
I’m drinking a hot cup of coffee on this fall-like day in New York and if coffee is your thing, grab your cup and join me.
All right, here we go. The story I’m about to tell you involves a job interview at both Apple and Stanford in the spring of 2014 that rose my spirits to the heights of Mt. Everest and quickly slammed them down into the Pit of Sarlacc. And for those who don’t know what the Pit of Sarlacc is...well, it’s the terrible toothed sand monster that digests a human for 10 thousand years.
But first, let’s go back...
The snow had melted, the trees had begun to bud, and Apple sent me an email. It was 2014. They’d like to fly me out to Cupertino to their headquarters, the email read, to meet with their education marketing team for a position I’d be great for.
Now, to step back a minute, it’s important to understand my love for Apple. Yes, the products are sleek and sexy, but my fascination with Apple was nil compared for my adoration for Steve Jobs.
Jobs was the epitome of success in my mind’s eye (setting aside his cruel temperament later exposed through Isaacson’s brilliant biography). I deeply related to Jobs: we both were adopted, we both grew up in a modest poor family without a well of money, and we both found meditation to be a source of empowerment in our teenage years.
“Well, this is interesting,” I thought as I scanned the email again to make sure it didn’t come from some 3-party scammer.
Realizing it was legit, I shared the news with my wife and in a state of ecstasy began planning my trip to California.
I loved teaching. I loved my podcasting and writing ventures. I loved living in New York. But, yes, I would leave all that behind for this dream job.
Around the same time of Apple’s email, I also received news from Stanford. I made it into the final round for an education fellowship on their design team. A colleague at Stanford recommended that I apply since I had shown great promise in my writing and the first podcast I created, The Transforming Education Podcast.
Eager to grow my impact in education, I packed my bags and flew off to California.
After starting up my rental car, I quickly headed over to Stanford and then Apple headquarters to get a taste of what may possibly be to come.
I immediately fell in love with Northern California’s meandering coastline and giant trees and did exactly what one shouldn’t do this early in the game: I found the perfect little home to rent for my wife, Yoda the Cat, and myself.
The interview at Apple was grueling -- six hours of back-to-back meetings -- but I walked out confident I had best displayed my talents and love to transform education.
A move to Northern California seemed imminent and I flew home, eager to share the news with my wife.
But when I walked into the door, I felt what Dicken’s must have felt when he wrote: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom…”.
My wife’s battle with Lyme Disease had grown more intense. Her fatigue increased, brain fog clouded her mental acuity, and our insurance had rejected IV antibiotic treatment. We’d have to cover the 10k/month treatment out-of-pocket if we wanted to continue.
Regardless of whether Apple or Stanford asked me to join their team, we couldn’t leave our support system in New York. Our team of doctors lived there and I relied on my in-laws to drive my wife to appointments when I couldn’t take time off of work and her body grew too weak to drive.
Two weeks passed by before I heard the news. I had come in second place at Apple and Stanford’s board rejected my application because I hadn’t filed as a non-profit.
It’s hard to explain my mental state at this moment. Emotionally, I was crushed. My self-esteem plummeted. Logically, I was relieved. Deep inside, I knew I would have to reject any job proposals and now no longer would have to worry about how this decision would affect my marriage.
Even though the sun shined brightly that summer, I struggled to keep the light inside. The teaching job I once loved now seemed nil compared to what I could have done at Stanford or Apple.
Meditation, yoga, writing -- these mindful tools kept me afloat.
Two years would pass before I learned the lesson in all of this. I learned the art of letting go and surrendering to the results.
The Art of Letting Go
Practice letting go of any results and continue to focus on giving 110% of your effort. It’s a way of living where you give everything in life your best effort and then practice being content with the results.
It’s like training for the Super Bowl and running your best 40yd dash and being content if all that effort leads to a new personal record instead of an NFL-draft pick.
It’s like tending to a field to grow this year’s harvest and when a flash flood destroys the year’s profits, being content that you have enough food to provide sustenance to your family.
It’s like giving it your best in a job interview and being content if you don’t get the job.
It’s knowing that there’s a greater lesson at play and there’ s something to learn in all the results of all actions.
The Art of Surrendering
To be clear, you define what surrendering means and just so you know, I struggle with surrendering to this day.
At its core, surrendering just means acknowledging that there’s a great energy at play. There is something greater than ourselves in this game of life. And we are not in control of the timeline.
I’ve found that when I surrender I allow myself to see the once-hidden lessons.
When I surrender, I allow myself to let go and be free.
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Now,
What about you? This is the lesson I learned through this roller coaster in my life, but I’d honestly love to learn from you.
What lessons have you learned from the dark times in your life?