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THE SECRET SOCIETY
āHouston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.ā
With that, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin made their way from the lunar module Eagle to the moonās surface for the worldās most famous walk. Iām sure you know the moment: āThatās one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.ā Canāt you almost hear that echoey, old-timey voice playing in your head?
But what you may not remember is that there was another astronaut on Apollo 11 who isnāt spoken of much. Heād just ubered Neil and Buzz to the moon but wouldnāt be taking steps on it like his coworkers. Instead, heād wait in space, orbiting the moon until they were ready to be picked up and brought back to earth. Not everyone could go down on that coveted walk. Someone had to stay with the Apollo command module.
That someone was Michael Collins.
ON THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON
While Armstrong and Aldrin had the eyes and admiration of the world, Collins did laps around the moon. Twenty-six times, to be exact, while his partners completed various tasks on the moonās surface.1
In the shadow of Armstrong and Aldrināindeed, in the shadow of the moon itselfāCollins quietly did his job.
I like how one journalist clearly defined the stakes of Collins executing his role to perfection:
Collins was under a different kind of pressure than the other astronauts: He was their only ride home. The crew would arrive at the moon together. Armstrong and Aldrin would travel to and from the surface in a lander, and Collins, in the command module, would release and recapture them. If something went wrong in these delicate maneuvers, the moonwalkers would be stranded. Collins needed to learn how to fly the command module back to Earth because there was a terrible chance heād be the only one coming back.2
Needless to say, Collinsās role was a crucial one. But he didnāt quite touch the moon. Heād traveled 238,900 miles. Heād trained his entire career for the opportunity. Heād even been to space before and was uniquely positioned to be one of the chosen. Walking on the moon was one of the greatest accomplishments in history. And he missed it by that much. Not to mention, despite the undeniably famous āone small step for man . . .ā echoing in your brain, youāve probably never even heard Collinsās name.
The president of the United States surprised Armstrong and Aldrin with a telephone call from the Oval Office while they were on the moon. Nixon spoke of the pride he and other Americans were feeling because of their historic feat, but he failed to mention Collins in his remarks. While the world praised the moonwalkers, Collins worked diligently in the shadows.
One thing I should share with you about Michael Collins, since you likely donāt know much about him, is that he approached his work differently than most. Going to the moon isnāt even the most impressive part of his story. More on that in a minute.
First, thereās a reason Iāve brought up the moon landing.
Some of us are the Neil Armstrongs and Buzz Aldrins of the world: the ones who stand in the spotlight and garner a lot of attention, who make a significant impact on thousands (if not millions) of lives. Itās hard to argue against the fact that some of us have been wildly successful in that kind of obvious sense. Weāre at the top, so it makes sense that others want to be like us and, therefore, we get a lot of attention.
But donāt forget about the other kinds of success that are a little less in your face. Maybe we are more like Michael Collins than Neil or Buzz. No one knows our name. Weāre not necessarily making it big or getting widespread attention for what we do. Our role is important (maybe even vital) for our organization, but no one is mentioning us in their speeches.
Regardless of whether youāre a Neil or a Buzz or a Michael, what I want you to see is that we need to both broaden and personalize our definition of success, or we risk going our whole lives feeling like we failed when we actually made history. We risk going our whole careers feeling like we missed the mark instead of understanding the truly vital role we played.
What we may not have realized until now is that weāre all up against the same problem. While we may have varying levels of public attention, weāre led to believe we should all want more. More attention. More recognition. More money. More likes. More views on YouTube. A better version of our lives thatās just beyond our grasp. The worst part is, this relentless pursuit for something weāll never attain is making us miserable.
What are we supposed to do about that?
LIVING IN YOUR DEFINITION OF SUCCESS
When most people hear the word integrity, they think of someone having good morals. Good values. Someone others can rely on. But thereās a second definition: āinternal consistency.ā And hereās why I think that definition deserves some attention. Culture has sold us on the narrative, āGet into the spotlight (whatever that looks like in your profession), and youāll have everything you ever wanted.ā Weāre told this is āsuccess.ā Culture is pushing you to get to the top at all costs. You know somethingās not quite right with that approach, but instead of identifying whatās at the root of your unrest and then working to eliminate it, you keep on. The lack of integrity between who you want to be and how you are living is causing a rub. At the root of it, the reason you feel off is because youāve been chasing after a definition of success that, deep down, you suspect wonāt make you happy. And yet you keep pushing, because youāre not convinced thereās another option.
Hey look, Iāve been there. I used to define success as owning a million-dollar house. Thereās a neighborhood a few minutes down the road from my house where Iāll take friends who are visiting Nashville. When I say the neighborhood is crazy nice, thatās an understatement. The cheapest house you can buy is a million dollars, but most of these mansions are between two and three million. I take people on a tour of this neighborhood with the same fervor as with other Nashville landmarks like the Ryman Auditorium and the Grand Ole Opry.
For a couple of weeks, I was really serious about wanting to own a house in my favorite neighborhood and would refresh my search constantly to see if any were up for sale. I wanted to picture my ten-year goal (or at least thatās what I told myself). I wanted to dream of what my life could look like and what my friends would say about me as the owner of one of those houses.
It was actually quite fun to daydream about. And then one day I noticed myself feeling frustrated about the amount of money I was making, knowing Iād need a lot more to move into my dream house. The āif they only knew what I contributeā types of thoughts flooded my mind. Day by day my resentment grew, and slowly I found myself quite unhappy with my life.
After a little too long being sour, I had a brief moment of clarity. I started to think through exactly why I wanted one of those million-dollar houses. The justifications came flying in. My kids would be set up in a better school district. Weād spend less money in the long-term because they could go to public schools. We love the area we live in, and this would only put us a mile down the road.
These were all true. But if I were honest with myself, I knew none of these were the actual reason I wanted to move into that neighborhood. The real reason? I wanted to appear successful to my friends. If I had a million-dollar house, itād show people that I was a person who had accomplished something and, therefore, that I was important.
It may be my constant desire to achieve or something else entirely, but sometimes doing a good job, working toward something meaningful, being part of a team, and serving the people around me donāt feel like theyāre enough. Forget Michael Collins; I want to be Neil Armstrong! I want to show those around meāespecially the people I respect and think are accomplishedāthat I belong and can compete at the highest level.
But what do we actually need to compete at the highest level? That is the question that has been driving me ever since I read about Michael Collins. If what we need is the spotlight, then what does that say about the man who made the whole moon mission possible? Maybe thereās a way to reevaluate our definition. Maybe we donāt need a constant upgrade of houses or cars or followers to mark our success. Maybe we can track it with something different.
Hereās a truth. The problem wasnāt wanting a million-dollar house; the problem was my intention for wanting that million-dollar house. I was chasing a fantasy in an attempt to cover up a whole lot of internal dysfunction. I was relying on a fancy house to feel successful. And in doing so, I was not living with integrity. My internal consistency was off, and I could feel it.
I decided it would be best to delete my house-searching apps (I had downloaded three) and take a break. With a clearer head, I remembered what I had been missing the past couple of weeks during my million-dollar house search. Gratitude. I looked around my already-big-enough-and-beautiful home and my growing family. I had been so fixated on my big goal that it caused me to miss what was right in front of me, and it ultimately led me to resentment.
At my house, thereās a pond out back. Itās not a huge pond, but itās big enough to throw a paddleboard down from time to time. When my wife, Katie, and I were searching for our current house, we walked up the driveway and saw the water at the edge of the yard, and our jaws dropped. Even though we love the pond and the peaceful nature of it, itās easy to take for granted. Probably not unlike someone living in Colorado who no longer notices the mountains.
Staring at the pond and thinking about my two-week brain glitch, I realized I had gotten caught up in an unhealthy mindset. I listened to a world screaming more, more, more and completely gave in to the unhappiness of wanting to keep up with my peers.
You can probably relate to that feeling of wanting more, of being discontent, of getting distracted from the now by thinking of the next thing.
But imagine actually enjoying your life. Imagine taking breaks from the search for the next gig or the next position or the next company you want to start. Imagine settling into your role and being happy with the day-to-day. Imagine experiencing integrity and gratitude and rest.
What if I told you there are people out there who live their lives like this every day? Not only are they making a massive impact on the world, but theyāre deeply inspiring, competitive, magnetic people who would tell you theyāre living lives chock-full of meaning.
I mentioned them in the introduction, but itās important to know more about them so you can model your life in the way they live theirs. You, too, can join this Secret Society.
THE SECRET SOCIETY OF SUCCESS
The most impressive thing Michael Collins has done in his life, if you ask me, isnāt the impossible mission that day with Armstrong and Aldrin. What heās done is live life according to his own definition of success. That is truly a miraculous feat.
What would make this a miserable story is if Michael Collins came back from his trip to the moon and acted like a victim. Can you imagine him trying to steal the sp...