People Don't Change

It all started, strangely enough, with The Apprentice.  For those of you who recall, this show takes a bunch of young business up-and-comers, preferably with entertaining personality "issues", and pits them against each other in contrived contests.  At the end of the show, the two teams are judged, with much pomp and circumstance, by none other than The Donald, Donald Trump.

Inside The Donald is a rebel with a Mohawk trying to get out.

I have to admit, I quite like The Donald.  Perhaps because I think that a man so ostentatiously ridiculous while raking in so much money is pulling one over on all of us.  He's a better straight man than Bud Abbot.  Also, I'm impressed that the guy made millions, lost it all, and then made millions all over again.  I mean, I'd be happy to manage that feat once.

Anyways, at one point on the show somebody asked Trump what advice he would give to young wannabe magnates watching the show.  Trump's words:  "People don't change."  I'm not sure what I'd been expecting but it certainly wasn't that. 

The words immediately struck me, because this is something that is so contrary to popular thinking.  The two main religions in the culture we call The West are Christianity and secular humanism (which is basically Christianity without out all the mysticism and miracles mumbo-jumbo).  Both have personal transcendental change as part of their mythos.  In Christianity, the self is profoundly changed upon acceptance of Jesus Christ into your heart.  In secular humanism, the myth, inculcated through a slew of schmaltzy after-school movies,  is that "you can be anything you want to be, if you try."  Indeed this later quote was more along the lines of what I expected Trump would offer when asked for advice.

The truth is, of course, you can't be whatever you put your mind to. A knock-kneed kid genetically pre-disposed towards poor hand-eye coordination may want to play in the NHL.  But it ain't gonna happen. 

People often say, "if only I had it to do over again, I'd do it differently." And yet, we do have it to do over again.  Every morning when we wake up, we have the choice of transformational change, of completely turning our lives around and becoming one with our ideal self.  The past is behind us, the future an open book.  You can say, "From now on I'll be like billionaire, philanthropist, daredevil and raconteur Richard Branson." Or in my case:  "Today I will start making use of all those fantastic organizational tools at my disposal so that I'm not in a constant state of confusion as to where I am and what I'm supposed to be doing."

But it doesn't happen, does it?  No matter how hard you try you still wake up with yourself every morning. Not Richard Branson.  Not Adam the Suddenly and Miraculously Organized.  I've been giving myself Stuart Little pep talks for thirty-five years on getting more organized.  The only thing that's changed about me as I look in the mirror, is the lines etched into my forehead, the crow's feet around my eyes.  I look at that slowly sagging face and wonder where that 18 year old rebel is.  I still feel like I'm him, though that middle-aged responsible-looking person staring back it me belies it.  I still feel him sneer at the fancy letters after my name, my tiny suburban empire.  I hear him whisper in the twilight between awake and dream:  "Burn it.  Burn it all."

People don't change.

It may sound like I'm being Captain Buzzkill here, but that's not my intent.  I don't tell the kids on my soccer teams, "What?  You wanna play for Chelsea when you grow -up.  Well, kid, why doncha put all your wishes in one hand and all your crap in the other and tell me which one fills up first."  Kids are still finding out about themselves; you don't want to tell them "stick a fork in it, kid, you're done."  But my son—great little soccer player by the way—is  a little older now and I am starting to drop the hint that, on top of all the work that's required to become a professional athlete, some of it is just drawing the right cards in the genetic poker game.  Elite coordination and athleticism, strength, competitiveness, drive, focus.  Gretzky scored 378 goals as a ten-year old.  That wasn't all from hard work.  I'm sure there's plenty of kids who probably tried harder than Gretzky who didn't score ten.  You have to concede that there was more than a little talent involved with Gretzky.  So I tell my son to chase his dreams, sure, but there's something to be said just for the sheer enjoyment of playing the game.  I'm crap at soccer, but I still love playing.  Not to mention the pints after—but he's  a bit young for that yet.

Of course kids set extraordinary goals for themselves, and that's OK.  Grown-ups, on the other hand—at least moderately self-aware ones—have become attuned to their natural strengths and weaknesses.  They don't want to be Batman anymore.  The wise thing to do is to align your goals with your nature.  I took a Master's Degree in Environment and Management, and, further to the "Management" end of that program, we had to undergo a battery of personality tests.  Of course I, like the others in the class, hoped the results would show that I had executive leader potential written all over me. 

But alas, 'twas not to pass.  Now, looking back, it makes perfect sense.  One of the traits of top CEOs, apparently, is optimism.  I'm an inveterate pessimist.  I've tried to be an optimist.  After all, an optimist, as well as perhaps having the potential to be a CEO, is also probably a happier person.  But I've come to the (rather pessimistic) conclusion that it is simply beyond the purview of my will to change from a dark person to a light one.  Then there's the aforementioned organizational deficit. Did I mention that I'm also easily distracted by shiny baubles, metaphorically speaking?  Also, that 18 year old rebel lives inside me still.   I often wonder if all the other middle age moms and dads coaching soccer or sitting around some work meeting have the same voice in their heads:  "You are not one of them."  Or maybe it's just me.  I have no idea.

Sorry, was distracted by that shiny bauble for a moment.  Back to the task at hand.

People don't change. 

And because they don't, you should align your goals and wishes with who you are.  For people with a natural sense of who they are, this is second nature.  But others perhaps carry around illusions of themselves.  For example, they want to lead, despite having repeatedly demonstrated a lack of any talent for doing so.  When you're deciding what you want to do with your wild and precious life, know thyself.  Speak honestly to that person in the mirror staring back at you.