Chapter 3 - Leap into the Void

“What is your vision for the company?”, my coach asked as we started working together. “What is my vision for the company?”, I pondered, “What is my vision for myself?” I did not know. It was an impact question, requiring me to stop and think; like pulling the handbrake on a speeding car. It was an invitation to retrace the main crossroads of my life and the choices I made, and understand how I arrived at where I was.

Last time I had any solid plans for life was in my teens, I dreamed of becoming an air force pilot. From early childhood I was enchanted by flight. I spent hours gazing at the skies, imagining myself wandering through the canyon like structures of soft cotton clouds. The dream blew up in my face when I dropped out of the Air Force Academy after 11 months. It was devastating. I had no other aspirations so when the military routed me to the armored corps I took it with indifference. A few months later, when it was time to consider officer training, I volunteered. My rationale was that as an officer I would have less people giving me orders and I would have a certain degree of independence. I was willing to ‘pay the price’ of serving an extra year in addition to the compulsory three. Those years are known as ‘the first Intifada’, one of many rounds of futile violence in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It was a first-hand, eye opening experience, of living in the middle east. Evidently I also understood that officers had commanding officers and that obeying orders was not my thing. Military life was not my cup of tea, though I had 23 years ahead to serve as an officer in the reserves.

A few weeks before the end of my four years of full time service I had some free time on base. I looked for a book small enough to fit in the thigh pocket of my field pants, and so I found Viktor E. Frankl’s “Man's Search for Meaning”. Viktor Frankl was a Holocaust survivor. Frankl’s experiences in Auschwitz and his unique observation and relations with these experiences gave him a deep understanding and ability to help other prisoners survive the horrors. I was not used to reading such literature and would probably have overlooked it. But it was the only book I found that could fit in my pocket, so I gave it a try and was captivated. In retrospect, Frankl’s book shaped my perception of life like no other book. Leading soldiers and reading Frankl’s book awakened my interest in people. Thus, as I considered my academic studies, I took an introductory course in psychology. It was very interesting, but since I inclined towards precise sciences rather than humanities I resolved to learning Industrial Engineering and Management. I sounded like a good mix between the two, though I didn’t really know what it was or what I was going to do with it.

At the age of 27, with my B.Sc., I had no long term plans or aspirations. I wanted to live with my girlfriend, Yael, in vibrant Tel Aviv.  A newspaper ad lead me to a job interview in a plush Hi-Tech area on the outskirts of the city. I was impressed by the modern design of the office, the wall-to-wall carpets, and the abundance of lively restaurants on the streets. This was the place for me!!!  The boss was a big, authoritative leader with a deep bass voice.  He was a veteran brigade commander in the armored corps, so we had a common base for mutual appreciation and understanding. I was impressed by a big poster decorating his office wall, “Leap into the Void” by French artist Yves Klein.

I started working in that company and was immediately sent out to deliver projects in rugged industrial facilities all around the rural areas of the country, in Europe and in the USA. I hardly ever worked from the office, but I enjoyed my work anyway. I was very good at it, and had a trusting relationship with the boss. Seven years later, the firm was bought and our division was spun off to be merged with another firm. The boss was gone.

I was now reporting to new bosses. They were partners, two cunning accountants, with a solid methodological approach to running a Professional Services company. It was the best possible school for Business Administration. My contribution was strong project management skills and operations capabilities. Together we built a very efficient business machine. In the years that followed life’s course was determined by the needs of the growing business. The firm skyrocketed with several positive aspects; new challenges, several business opportunities, promotions and an increasing salary. But it came with a price. I spent 10 to 12 hours per day at work, and was attentive to phone calls and e-mails 24/7. There was a constant atmosphere of drama. Everything was urgent, and needed to be resolved immediately. Whether it was a proposal that had to be issued the next day, a negotiation to prepare, a position to be recruited, a milestone to deliver, or a crisis to attend to. All management and administrative meetings were held after normal office hours and into the night. It maximized customer billable hours and optimized employee utilization, for profitability was always in mind. Whenever I stopped to think about it, I could not find a rational justification to this very poor lifestyle. We were not saving lives, this was not a hospital Emergency Room, or any other sort of life supporting service. I believed it was possible to run a profitable business, and maintain a well balanced lifestyle. From time to time I tried to implement a routine of starting late or finishing early, or trying to ignore late night calls and messages. But something urgent usually popped up and ruined my plans. It felt like I could not grasp control of my life. “Perhaps I was destined to hard work?”, I thought.

When I was 38, our son David was born. Yael and me never married, neither of us felt a need for a wedding ceremony or any other official affirmation of our relationships. I recall one evening when I was walking the streets of Tel Aviv with David in a stroller. Suddenly I noticed he was shouting repeatedly at me, “Dad you’re not listening to me!!!, “Dad you’re not listening to me!!!”. I don’t know how long this has been going on. Indeed I was not listening. My head was stuck in the damn smartphone. My body was present, but my mind was at work. David’s call felt like a knife piercing through my abdomen. A couple of years later I would thank David for insisting that I be a present father. He put a mirror in my face, a calling to wake up!

So, was this a life guided by vision? Apparently not. It seemed rather like a video game, advancing through screens, jumping over obstacles, confronting the occasional bad guy. Always watchful for what may pop up behind the corner, responding immediately to whatever the game threw at me. With progress I gain points and ascend to the next level, get an upgraded company car. Being the CEO of this firm, was just another level in the game. Who sets the rules of the game? Who deals the cards? What does it all sum to when its "Game Over"? Why?

I was caught up in the Matrix, and I had more than enough.

Coaching taught me that changing circumstances will not make an essential difference. People make changes all the time - change their employer, change the house, marry, divorce, marry again, buy a motorcycle, go on a diet, run marathons. Numerous changes, but eventually the essence of life remains unchanged. Why? because whatever change we make, wherever we go, ourselves comes with us. If I simply left the firm, I would soon find myself in a similar condition somewhere else. It was I who got me here, and it was I who would get me further. There were more questions than answers. The nature of such questions is that they linger and resonate within until the right time comes. Today I understand that those first meetings with my coach were just the beginning of a process of understanding. Through this blog I hope to share some of these understandings, to contribute and to learn from whoever may be out there on similar paths.

About two years after the initial questions were asked, I had a fair understanding of how I let the game control me. I no longer fitted in the game and I could not change it to fit me. It was time for me to go, to leave the relative comfort of the known and find my own way. I was standing on the window threshold, considering my unknown future, scared to death. It was time to leap into the void. 

 

“Leap into the Void”, by Yves Klein 1960

Chapter - 4