Gratitude and Humility Can Take You to The Top of Any Mountain

As time goes on and I ease into those years when certain biological symbols of aging start to show up ... new grey hairs, blurry vision, craving for wine most of the time ... there are also nuggets of wisdom that I know were not around in my 20s.  With just hours remaining in 2014 ... if I had just two words to describe my theme for the year, they would be GRATITUDE and HUMILITY.  As my emotional bucket becomes more advanced with a healthy fill of good, bad, epic and crushing life experiences - being grateful and humble are what ties together all of the chaos in a way that makes sense and moves forward.

Living with gratitude and humility is an evolution that encompasses encounters and experiences big and small.  One that I would like to share because I actually wrote about it in the moment is my 2013 Kilimanjaro climb.

Most of my big adventures have put me in and around some form of H20.  Admittedly, climbing Kilimanjaro was not on my to-do list, but it only took a little YPO Peer pressure (and promise of cots and toilets) to get me signed up for the big climb. 

Here is the letter I wrote soon after the trip.  And, Happy New Year ... life is indeed much happier and more powerful with gratitude and humility in the driver's seat.

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February 26,2013

Dear Family and Friends,

I am happy to report that I made it to the Summit of Kilimanjaro!  This was by far and beyond the MOST challenging quest of my life...both physically and mentally.  Though I had tremendous respect for the endeavor of climbing the tallest point in Africa and reaching the summit of over 19,600 feet, I expected - and I imagine the people I am close to also expected, that this would be a Mission Accomplished.

 

 

Well, I was humbled...greatly humbled and felt like a speck of sand that should blow away and not exist or matter.  I feel extremely blessed and fortunate that I made it to the top and back down - safely.  I did every step of the 7 day climb with a sprang ankle that is still in "kankle" state, had altitude issues that gave me flu like symptoms and delirium that entered a mental state and place I had never known.

 

 

The daily 5 - 9 hour hikes were just warm ups (often long and painful) leading up to Summit night.  We woke up at 11 pm and started for the Summit at midnight.  6 and a half hours of taking tiny and very painful steps in the very cold and dark night - gasping for air that seemed to be disappearing - took a tremendous mental tole.  I don't know how I managed through those hours except with my guides who took care of me and sang African gospel songs most all of the way.  I didn't understand any of the words, but they kept me going and gave me faith.  At about 6 am, Christian, one of guys in my group said, "turn around" - the sun was just entering this side of the world and we were the first people to see it.  I knew we were close...so close.  We reached the Summit of Kilimanjaro at around 7:30 am and stood side by side and face to face with our sun - above Africa - the air, clouds, and everything else.  I felt of tremendous sense of personal accomplishment, insignificance and powerlessness. 

 

 

 

 

And, I did have a very special purpose.  I was so honored to be able to bring some of Chris's (Randy, my brother in law's best friend) ashes to thrive on the top of Kilimanjaro and his presence was front, center and over the top (typical Chris!). On day three during a water break, I took out his ashes and shared with my group about Chris.  We were immediately overwhelmed with a 360 degree rainbow around the sun without a drop of rain or cloud in sight. Everyone knew what had just happened and we all felt joy and lifted.  The air was as still as space at the summit and as I made my tribute and spread Chris's ashes on the top of Africa, an isolated breeze carried his ashes right back toward me and all over me.  Anyone who knew Chris would just nod and smile.  So Chris...

I will spare the rest of the Getting Down details for another time, but it was pretty darn ugly, painful and I entered the graduate level education in metal smack-down and humility.

At my most delirious mental states, most exhausted physical moments and even now - rested and reflective - I have two words to describe how my feel about my Kilimanjaro climb: Gratitude and Humility.  Without the support of my sisters who provided both the gear and layering systems/strategy for survival, my family and friends who supported my crazy quest and prayed for my well being and safety, the most wonderful Kili climb mates I could ever ask for, the incredible, gracious and loving crew who performed miracles every day that allowed to me focus on just one thing...putting one foot in front of the other - until I made it safely back to base camp, and God who gave me faith, strength and great weather...I would NOT have finished this climb.  No way, no how.

I know I will continue to download from these last 8 days and hope to become a better speck on our grand and glorious planet.

Love,

Sue

(written from Nairobi - transiting to Istanbul later tonight)

What is Happy Chaos? And Why Confess it?

Happy Chaos is what I strive and hope for in my life.  And, what a relief, because one can end up in a hamster wheel trying to find that Life Balance Black Hole that over 100,000 books and articles claim to mapped the course.  Here are a few things I know ... despite this grown up pressure to find that "life balance" and "having it all" nirvana.  

I know that life doesn't make sense.  

I know that life balance is impossible and ridiculous.  

I know I can't find that definitive place (both mentally and physically) of calm, peace and serenity.  

So, I've come up with the state of being (or place) that most accurately describes my life, and also what I constantly and continuously strive for.  Happy Chaos is that ideal and realistic combination of living out of balance and even out of control. Yet, you are in the groove, ready for disruption and curve balls, and living a life fueled with extremes and uncertain outcomes.  You are armed with wisdom, experience and courage, inspired by meaningful and crazy connections, and thrive with wild and powerful relationships. All the while ... you're happy with yourself ... from pretty cool, just OK or even sad, to elated and downright euphoric.

 

I'll never claim to have the answers to any of life's big questions.  There is however, a self-realization and self-relevance that comes with being an adult for more than a couple of decades that warrants collecting your Self Data, analyzing it and professing it.  It's like a grown up Confession that is not forced or shameful, but is earned, honest and fulfilling.

Just a few years after I started NOVA, while I was still young and dumb, I had a one off moment of wisdom and purchased this print and hung it in my office.  The print is the Chinese character for Chaos defined with "Where Brilliant Dreams are Born." It remained the only constant in my NOVA office over the 21 years.

 

 

 

Was it reminding me day after day, year after year, that Chaos is my only constant?  Yes, but it was also a wise teacher.  The print then says,

 

 "Before the beginning of great brilliance, there must be Chaos.

Before a brilliant person begins something great,

they must look foolish to the crowd."

Because of one dimensional or snap shot perspectives of me and my life via Bios, Facebook and Google, I may be perceived as a super busy, go getter type who's got a lot going on.  Some of the perception may be true on certain days and moments, but I also can be super lazy with an office always a mess and junk drawers very junky.  What I can confess and profess with pride and certainty is that I strive to Live Happy Chaos each and every day ... and what a relief.

Going It Alone: The Virtue of Self-Bonding

Ever Get That Un-lonely Feeling?

'Never walk alone' '…a beautiful life is shared' But, first and foremost, you gotta love yourself and cherish being alone. 

I am often pegged as a “people person” and rightfully so.  I love teams, groups, family, bonding, sharing — in other words, meaningful human relationships. These soul connections inspire personal growth and make life a lot more fun.

Yet I’ve discovered another essential, powerful aspect of life that contributes to my fulfillment and ever-expanding perspective.  It is private, often quiet, and sometimes a little scary — yet it refreshes the soul.

It’s called going it alone.

There was a time when I would have been self-conscious doing “people activities” alone.  In years past I would see other men and woman going solo and wonder about them.  Did her date cancel?  Is he a food critic?  Where are their friends and family?

I now believe these solo men and women may have already understood the virtues of going it alone.  They got it.  For me, it took a painful marriage to figure it out.  I won’t go into the nasty details, but I will confess that during my darkest days and nights, I would dream and hope of being alone…and that visual was so bright, happy and fulfilling.  I missed me.

There are times when you can fully realize experiences only if you go inward.  You make the event or experience a moment that is a gift all for you.  You are completely self-absorbed, all alone, and that’s okay.  You’re not concerned about how a companion may feel, forced to coordinate multiple schedules, or navigate the differences in your personalities.  Instead, all your senses are completely present, focused and alive.

Not long ago I found myself sitting in Walt Disney Concert Hall listening to a Los Angeles Philharmonic program.  I attended the concert solo, but I didn’t feel alone.  Rather, I was overwhelmed with emotional and meaningful connections.  I was with the composer (at this concert, Bartok and Lindberg), my favorite conductor (Esa-Pekka Salonen), the glorious music, and the amazing musicians.  By totally immersing myself I could feel my soul: I was at peace, at one with myself, and felt complete.  I loved that night and the concert has remained a cherished memory — by me and only me.

Afraid to go it alone?  So was I until I missed me, got to know myself better and embraced the person I have always strived to be.  As a result I gained access to the full confidence and consciousness that comes with revelation and maturity.  I realized that the LA Phil experience was something that I craved and required on a regular basis.  I had denied myself this personal pleasure because I was concerned what others might think:  Why is she alone?  Did she get stood up?  I realize how much concern and energy I had placed on things that simply don’t matter.  Why care about what strangers might think of me?  And why assume they are thinking negative thoughts or anything at all about me?  It is self-absorbed to assume strangers have even taken notice of my presence.  I now believe my insecurities may have blocked me from those sublime, restorative and enriching encounters with my real inner self.  Could the same be true of you?

I have discovered other going-it-alone opportunities that I took for granted for many years.  Being on a plane is one of them.  I used to think travel time was wasted time.  Now I look forward to it.  It has become precious.  It is quiet me time: no phone, no Internet, just three-to-four hours in the rapture of public solitude.

A dining experience alone is another opportunity.  I now love enjoying each bite of my perfect medium-rare filet and sips of red wine, while occasionally observing and feeling the vibe of the restaurant.  I also realized that my going-it- alone experiences do not always remain just mine for very long.  As a people person, I just had to share my personal discoveries with others.

Going it alone may, at times, require that we reach deep for that extra dose of confidence and self-like.  Where’s my support group?  Who do I share with, download with, vent with?  But the personal growth and soulful loveliness that may result is powerful and lasting ‘cause…You’ve Got You Babe.  You will discover rare feelings, original thoughts, reckless creativity, and boundless clarity.  All of which may very well make you better — with people. 

Ever get that un-lonely feeling?  Embrace it.  Cherish it.  Love it.  Your soul will thank you for it. 

A Great Journey Must Always Be Shared

When I started NOVA in 1993, I knew nothing. And that is an understatement, since you can’t possibly know what you don’t know. Fortunately, a wise man shared some wise advice that would shape me. He passionately told me the value of having partners; real partners with whom everything is shared. I took the advice and soon realized that it was one of the best decisions I would make in the early years. 

The journey of a lifetime is very much like a great climb or underwater exploration. All challenges inevitably lead you to the dungeon of suffering and the tower of celebration. Things will go wrong in ways you can’t imagine – and you can feel so alone. Some things will go so right – and you want to have a party. The emotional and fiscal hills and valleys of these events are not something you want to horde… alone. 

Share everything

Share everything. It will help dilute the impact of the inescapable thrills, chills, and endless hours of starting your own business. If you’re never too high, and never too low, you have the best chance of surviving the long haul. Also, in the years to come, when looking back on the grand ordeal, it is so meaningful to have a few reliable witnesses and memory banks. 

Sharing the journey is what gives life meaning, dimension, nuance and even surprise. Such as the solutions your partners envision that never would have crossed your mind. Or the humorous observation a partner risks while in the jaws of seeming defeat. These moments are too rich and harrowing to be singularly expressed or experienced. Partnering is the best, quickest and most steadfast path to wisdom and fulfillment that I have yet to discover. 

Yet sometimes a partner is not someone who literally sits with you through each tough decision. Partners are also friends, significant others, spouses and other family members. In the early days of NOVA, I had a dream that inspired me. Even so, I must confess that there were rough patches when it felt like all I was trying to do was survive. In those moments, my most important partners were also my mother, sister, and girlfriends. They were one-woman cheerleading squads who powered me through every struggle. 

As we began to fulfill the NOVA mission of helping people of all ages live beautifully and independently, I discovered that success, not just despair, is a group activity, a team sport, a group hug. By sharing the victories, I felt elevated by the company I had kept. The pride of achievement was far more glorious and memorable when I looked around me and saw the faces of my partners beaming with joy. But more importantly, it is the devastating failures and crushing blows when your partners save you, save your business and transform everything. 


The moral of the story is simple: never walk alone. Not in business nor in life. Success in any field is nurtured by community, mutual respect, dint of hard work — and the remarkable reward of sharing. 

Finally Forty

At last...completely out of balance

When I started my company at the not-so-ripe age of twenty-three I had no idea there would be so many surprising drawbacks and challenges. For one, I was ambitious and energetic, but my obvious youth was a travel liability. At the time, most car rental companies had a minimum age requirement of twenty-five. The one exception was Enterprise, but they only had offices in select major cities, and much of my travel took me to small cities and towns.

Another formidable challenge was my lack of experience. Too often I was mistaken for a sales associate or assistant, not the founder and CEO. To overcome my deficit, my first hire suggested that I carry two business cards, one as CEO and the other as Account Representative.

At the time, I suppose I could appreciate his logic. He thought some of our customers would be more receptive to me as an employee rather than a CEO with guts and in high heels. To prove his point, my employee called our main competitor and pretended to be a dealer who wanted some feedback on Sue Chen and Nova. I listened to the conversation on another phone line and was frustrated by what I heard. ‖She’s a nice girl, but so young… what does she know at her age? How can you take her or her company seriously? Then he just laughed.

I remember thinking, 

“I want to be forty! Just wait until I’m forty! Then people will take me seriously!”

Well, I’m finally forty. I’ve rented hundreds of cars, flown almost a million miles and have acquired all ―elite‖ travel statuses. I’ve met with thousands of dealers, customers, and partners, and traveled to towns and cities in almost every state in America. Along the way — I grew up.

I grimace when I think back on my twenty-three-year-old self and her anxious desire to get older fast. Good thing I didn’t step into a time machine and get my wish. I now see that becoming my true self was a transformation, not an anxious race. Each day, every year was a steppingstone in my life and for my heart, mind and soul. I had to earn it.

There is an authenticity that comes with having traveled the high and low road to forty. It’s exciting, knuckle crunching and unpredictable. It requires crossing the unpaved byways of our twenties and thirties without a map. It’s an open-road epic with empty and peopled landscapes, prairies and cities, thrills and spills — and, finally, arrival at a destination that is somewhat unpredictable.

Did I say it is fun? So much fun…a total blast! Did I say it was also painful? So painful, I didn’t know if I could bear it at times. But along the way, life has some important lessons and revelations it wants to teach us: Embrace it. Move forward on your journey.

Life Balance Does Not Exist

On the road to forty, I learned that this destination of ―Life Balance‖ does not exist.

The search for this Life Balance defined much of my twenties and thirties. I now consider the concept to be a waste of time, a mirage that weary travelers often encounter looking for that perfect oasis. Especially female travelers who have been told they can have it all — career, love, marriage and family — but it must be balanced.

I was among the millions seeking this enlightened state only to realize that it makes no sense. It’s a dumb, ridiculous word as used by Dr. Phil-types and armies of self-help authors. In my experience, striving for balance is like trying to be an Olympic gymnast, but without the skill. Imagine trying to remain very still so that upon command you can do a backflip on a balance beam without missing your mark and falling. Never fall apart. Never. Sounds pretty darn painful. In fact, the definition of balance is ―state of equilibrium. Is that what we are looking for? I say defiantly…NO.

Here’s the deal. Balance does not exist, so why try to achieve it? Once I came to that understanding I realized what I really wanted and needed: to define my life in my own terms. And guess what? The self I coveted required most of my twenties and thirties to create.

We evolve and so do the words we use to define our beings, our achievements, our states of grace and disasters. Define, Life, Terms…these are dynamic words that move and change - sometimes slightly, sometimes dramatically. What a relief to know that there isn’t some ―aha! moment waiting for us. The real Finally Forty Insight is the acceptance that we don’t have it all figured out and we never will.

I’m fine with that, more than fine, because I now know that I don’t want a balanced life. Instead, I’m looking forward to all the things I have yet to understand or discover and I intend to greet each experience with the zest, passion and wisdom I have accrued over these last couple decades. I am looking forward to my life – out of balance.

That’s the joy of finally knowing me a little better. I have the confidence to just be. As a result I can embrace the unknown, countless uncertainties and the risk-taking that comes with grabbing a larger piece of the world and defining it in my own terms. 

Small Me in a Big World

In my twenties I felt so large because my brain was mostly concerned with me — I loomed large in the world, and, surprise…that was boring. In my experience, life is so much more meaningful when I am a tiny blip in the big picture of life. At forty I am smaller and the world is bigger. That’s as it should be. I’m a minuscule part of our complex, diverse, massive and insane world. A world I love…more and more each day.

By taking the emphasis away from me, the big picture and massive mission becomes clear and present. It became my new reality. And this powerful experience was truly transformative. Relationships are rich and meaningful. Girlfriends have become sisters. Mom is my best friend. My sister is my soul mate. My business partners are brothers, and my colleagues are my mission buddies.

The Sue Chen ingénue had to be seen doing the cool thing on the weekend. At forty, a great night is sometimes sitting on the couch and getting cozy with my DVR as I catch up on favorite TV shows. My thirties demanded that I had to be in a relationship, I had to find a husband. At forty, following a divorce, I am happy and relieved to be single again.

Gratitude at forty has brought me calm, peace, clarity and a joy. I’m humbled when I realize that through the years my work has touched millions of people. And I intend to reach out to millions more, because there is so much to do.

One more thing. My younger sister tells me that in the year approaching my fortieth birthday, I finally got my superhero powers back. She says the critical powers were stripped away in my 30s, but now they’re back — stronger than ever. I don’t really believe I have superpowers. But I dream big. The vision is so clear: I want to change the world.  

By the way, I never did use the Account Representative business card.

Ice Cream and the American Dream

I was only four years old when my family arrived in Brooklyn, New York. My parents had left everything and everyone in Taiwan to pursue the American dream. It was winter, and though I trusted that my family loved me and would protect me, there was great uncertainty as we faced our new life in an expansive new land. The faces were all new – different hair and eyes, new languages, smells and sounds. The landscape was also new – tall buildings and new neighborhoods. It was so very different and exciting, yet uncertain for a four year old. Uncertain – for sure. Where was I? 

Then I had the experience that would make sense of it all...and seal the deal. It was during that winter during my first weeks in American that I had ice cream for the first time – The American kind, the good stuff, the really good stuff. I had never had anything like this before. What was this hypnotic combination of sugar and crème that transfixed me? 

After my first spoonful, I decided right then and there that wherever I was, with so many unique faces, smells, and sounds, I was staying, because nothing could be greater than a country that served this beautiful thing called ice cream. Can it get any better? But it does! The many flavors…the toppings…the dripping sauces. The possibilities and pleasures were endless. 

My first truly American experience was a spoonful of ice cream on an ice cream cone. I knew it was true love when on my second cone, I was a bit too ambitious with my approach and the scoop on top of the cone fell to the ground. I broke into tears. This was my first heartbreak. And all these years later, that memory endures and to this day, I eat my ice cream with great care and it’s one thing I will not share. 

I will admit, however, that sometimes my devotion to this sweet and satisfying dessert seems a bit trivial. Surely America has produced so many other great discoveries and obsessions — Halloween, The Tooth Fairy, Barbie dolls, Elvis, Madonna and Beyonce, sports teams like the Miami Dolphins and Los Angeles Lakers, beach volleyball, movies like ET and Forest Gump, In and Out Burger… 

Yet when I realize how universal my urge to indulge is, I don’t feel so silly. When savoring my favorite flavors I feel closer to the American populous, not set apart. Ice cream is a thing so luscious that it can be enjoyed in silence and solitude or with friends and family. No one has to legislate thou shall enjoy ice cream. It just happens. Naturally. To anyone and most everyone who will try it. And it should be said that through the years my dessert of choice has always been there for me, in times of delight and utter defeat. It hits my taste buds, my stomach, and my heart…reminding me of how much I love my country. 

Ice Cream also blends well and you can make it completely unique to you. Different flavors squeeze nicely into one bowl and, much like a hyphenated cultural identity, compliment one another. Top it off with fruit and nuts and new dimensions of texture and fulfillment emerge. Or mash various American sweets — Snickers, M & Ms, Reese’s Pieces, or whatever you like — into a couple of scoops and excite your taste buds in your own personal, revolutionary way. 
Ice cream is so shameless and accommodating that everyone is welcome to shape their lush dessert into their own image, so to speak, and that says a lot about another American tradition —transformation. 

My family, like so many other families, came to this great nation and succeeded. It wasn’t easy. Not every moment was ideal. But by passionately contributing to an idea, a notion that all men and women are created equal, we arrived with nearly nothing and yet gained everything. With pride and distinction we could embrace our hyphenated identity, our unique mixture and call ourselves Taiwanese-American. We could stand beside other peoples who identified themselves as Japanese-American, Korean-American, Mexican-American, Persian-American, Irish-American and so on. We could do so and still feel like there was plenty of room for all of us. 

Much has been written about America the melting pot of culture. By now it should not surprise you that I see America as an ice cream bowl, the good stuff, the American kind.