“The Year of Overflow” - Monday, January 1, 8:38 PM

It's on long flights that I begin putting my jumbled thoughts together.

Infants are crying loudly on our five-hour flight back to Los Angeles, their legs flailing about and kicking the back of our seats with no intention of stopping any time soon.

I'm listening to Barack Obama’s “Promised Land” in one ear as I reflect on the final weeks of 2023 and look forward to the first weeks of 2024.

It's not easy, beneath all of the noise is a slight feeling that I may not be as ready as I thought I was for this next chapter. At the very least, I want a do-over of December but there’s no point in pouting about it.

The babies seem to be crying louder now. The thought of grown men blubbering like them would have been comical to me in previous years, but now it's weirdly sobering. I told myself this year I would focus on the wins and the positives but I can’t help but replay the missteps and disappointments.

I'm still not where I want to be and it's become a constant annoyance to me.

Truth be told I'm running out of truly great people to follow. I’ve read the autobiographies of the greatest titans of industry, thought, and leadership and I’ve started going over them again for retention. During this memory lap, many have since fallen from grace and have had their legacies interminably displaced in a sea of public shame and humiliation.

I wonder how many generations it will take for the world to forget or hate me, despite all that I attempt and succeed at doing?

It's a terrible thought, but it is one that sticks with me more than I care to let on. It's evident in my goals and all the opportunities I choose to bet on.

Behind my determined optimism is a surging anger that I refuse to weaponize against anyone other than myself.

Only God helps.

When I notice it in others it's visceral and it's felt, but never reciprocated because who would I be if I magnified it?

What do I have to be mad at?

I’m sure many have wondered but have yet to ask. The answer wouldn’t surprise anyone who dared to take up the task.

I'm upset that the world isn’t better than I remember it and that my collective accomplishments seem petty in comparison to the enormity of the issues I desire to solve.

It really is that simple.

The problem with dreaming big is always one of measurement. While some are fine with embellishment I’ve made a science of assessing personal impact, and routinely tested it.

I've often said that younger me would be proud of me but wouldn’t necessarily be impressed. There would be plenty of kudos for undertaking and sticking to the journey, but he’d expect me to be much further along on the quest.

That's just me being honest.

I will be great though. Not just because I want to, but due to the growing amount of people who are determined to bring greatness out of me. People inspire me indefinitely, yet I’ve always struggled with staying in touch with them individually.

Last year, I chose not to leave California to develop some financial sustenance and all year I felt a palatable distance. Weddings, funerals, baby showers, it made no difference. Was it wise or selfish?

I'm not foolish enough to believe there isn’t a duality in all my actions even when I can’t readily detect them. If relationships are important to me then shouldn't I protect them? Some are dead for good and Jesus won’t resurrect them.

But today’s a new day and this is a new year.

I’ve made a list of people I’m determined to see in person to say thank you, goodbye, or see you again soon. They’re too important for me not to do it and I finally have the wherewithal to do it on this extended blue moon.

This is my overflow.

New Year’s Eve in New York was my first swing at it and my departure was one of mixed feelings. I have high hopes that our meeting will be better and that this year I can fit into your schedule.

This is my open letter to all the go-getters at the beginning of my latest chapter. I’ll see you when I see you, but sooner is always better.