Now we jump into the arena
Yesterday, the Chevening class of 2015 met again, one last time. One last time because although we will all be connected because of our Chevening experience; we may never all meet again in one place. *Sniff, sniff* But so is life. Strangely, there were no “I will miss yous” exchanged. I didn’t hear any at least. What I did hear were lots of “see you laters”. As both Andrew McHallam, Head of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO) Scholarships Unit and Ruth Shaw, Head of Campaigns and Engagement at the FCO pointed out, the event might have marked the end of our awards but it also marked the beginning of our relationship with the much wider Chevening community.
Jumping into the arena
Nick Hungerford, co-founder of Nutmeg (https://www.nutmeg.com/) and keynote speaker of the day put what it means to be part of such a community in perspective. As Chevening alumni, you have the double ‘curse’ of knowledge and responsibility, he said.
Now that we know what we do, have witnessed the impact of people stepping up, we cannot ignore an opportunity to make a difference. Or as he put it, we cannot let other people be the leading women or men in our lives. We have to step forward, and “jump into the arena”.
The word arena always makes me think of ancient Roman games where men were thrown into an arena with lions as punishment. Some men would try fight the lions, literally fighting to the death. The world feels that cutthroat sometimes so throwing yourself into it is no cool beans. Good thing Hungerford didn’t leave his advice hanging, he fortified it with five nuggets.
Purpose
Hungerford’s first nugget was that we lead lives or choose vocations with purpose. Many of us have heard this, read about it, been told by others, yet it is something very few people follow through on. Nick pointed out that if you live a life solely for financial success or the celebrity a vocation comes with, then you may become limited when it comes to jumping into the arena.
Think of it this way, an opportunity to make a difference may present itself. However, you may not cease it because doing so could jeapardise your bank balance or your status. When you have purpose, you are willing to make sacrifices, persevere through whatever hindrances because you are pursuing something you enjoy.
Risk
“I always thought taking risks meant doing something,” Hungerford said. When he did, I remember thinking, “yeah that is what it is!” Because we are told to take risks every day. Then Hungerford continued” “I’ve realised that risk is not doing something; it is not, not doing something.” One of the examples he gave was not asking that girl at the pub for her number –he said this was how he had met his wife.
Not, not doing something puts you at the risk of asking what if. What if I had applied for the other job? What if I had moved to the other town? Such questions only drain you in your current situations. In short, they are a risk to you in the arena because they take your attention away from what is right in front of you.
Stop and regroup
“In order to work hard, you have to play hard, train hard,” was Hungerford’s twist on the all work without play makes Grace a dull girl adage. Burn out is real! Take time off to take a walk, read a non-work related book, watch a movie, go for a run. Do whatever your version of play is. The kind of play that not only relaxes the body but also trains it.
You are not going to be any good to others if you are always tired, cannot think straight or succumbing to preventable illnesses.
Be interested not interesting
“Choose to be interested instead of interesting.” When Hungerford said this, it seemed like he was saying something against all that advice we get on making good impressions. Then he put it in perspective –using the selfie. We post selfies, are happy with all the likes and #slaying #onfleek #nailedit comments that go with them. That is all well and good.
The problem arises when we fail to be interested in the people around us. How about using the same platform to draw attention to someone else, a cause, a business, something that has nothing to do with you.
Hungerford talked about how when he had just started his business and even at the stage when it was just an idea, people were interested. They listened to him. They understood his excitement when the company was new and let him go on and on about what he was going to do.
A time came when it was his turn to listen to other people’s ideas. To encourage them, and provide guidance where the ideas were not so good after all. To be interested.
Rejection
Hungerford’s business idea was rejected 46 times before he found an investor to fund it. The list of successful people with a similar story is long, and Hungerford mentioned some of the ones we all love to talk about –Steve Jobs, J.K Rowling were some of them. Honestly, no matter how many times I hear these stories, rejection always, for lack of a better word, sucks!
What Hungerford advised was not to brush it off but to “deal with rejection bravely and objectively”. I loved his choice of words. Usually people say, “just move on”. Which is well and good. But it is hard to “just” move on when that feeling of rejection has created that tight feeling in the throat. But bravado means you get to face that feeling head on. Objectivity means you get to assess what may have caused the rejection.
I am familiar with rejection, and everytime I’ve gone through it with someone else, I’ve heard people tell the other person, “just move on like Grace”. Here is the thing, I don’t ‘just’ move on. I guess I’m familiar with the dealing bravely bit of this advice.
When rejection hits me hard, I do something a wise person said was the bravest thing I could ever do –I cry. I find a comfortable place to cry –under a running shower has proved to be the best place and cry my heart out. This is when God hears the ‘why me?’ speech. After a good cry, the tightness usually goes away, then I realise that while crying was therapeutic, it did not really solve anything. Then I get back to the rejection and try to figure out why it happened. I’m still working on the objective part since I’m slow to admit it when I am the problem.
Rejection is no cup of tea but it can be sweetened when we choose to learn from it instead of being discouraged to try again.
With these reminders on how to be really be present in the arena that is life, McHallan’s parting shot to us, “Go out and change the world!” should come naturally.
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
(‘The Man in the Arena’, excerpt from President Theodore Roosevelt’s Citizenship in a Republic speech, delivered in Paris, 1910)