Visionless and Questionful
As the screen began to blur, I surveyed my cramped room, now cluttered with my desk shoved into the corner alongside a futon that doubled as my couch by day and bed by night. My dog’s bed covering what little carpet still visible. Just a few months prior, this tiny space morphed into both my office and bedroom, squeezing my entire existence into less than 100 square feet.
Returning my gaze to the computer, intent on finishing some updates to my website after another long day (and night) of work, I hoped my vision would refocus. Instead, everything completely blurred, leaving me unable to see anything.
As panic and disbelief washed over me, not knowing what else to do, I slid from my chair to the floor, my heart racing. As my dog curled up beside me, two thoughts dominated:
(1) I really hope my vision comes back.
(2) How the heck did I end up here??
Thankfully, my vision eventually cleared, but the path that led me to that floor, visionless and questionful, was paved with bold decisions, unforeseen challenges, and bad timing…or was the timing exactly what it needed to be?
Has there ever been a moment in your life when everything you were working towards seemed to blur before your eyes? How did you respond?
The Call that Changed Everything
“So, we aren’t closing on the building?”
To which he responded, “There were loans that closed earlier in the morning but the check hadn’t cleared yet when they made the announcement…even those deals aren’t closing. No, we aren’t closing.”
July 2007: The first wave of bank closures crashed down, including the bank providing me financing for buying a historic, boarded up, mixed-use building to convert into my office and house.
That short conversation with my mortgage broker (remember those?) kicked off what would become a 21-bank, 3-month odyssey filled with twists, turns, a pre-engagement-engagement, living with tenants in my own house (who belonged on Jerry Springer) as I had already leased my house, a full-blown panic attack, and ultimately the front edge of the Great Recession.
The Roads Not Taken
Many times looking back, I could easily say, “Oh man…two weeks earlier and it wouldn’t have been an issue”, and there were A LOT of times when my mind hosted that pity party, but ultimately who knows how things would have turned out if it had gone as I originally planned.
Who knows if I would have gotten upside down in a way that I couldn’t have dug myself out of.
Who knows if the adversity during that time period battle-tested me enough to take on the wars I ended up facing later in my journey that I wouldn’t have been able to take on otherwise.
Who knows if that would have completely changed the trajectory of my business and life from what it has become today.
Who knows if the eventual solution hadn’t been for my then-girlfriend to co-sign on the loan and have our relationship ever forged by the seemingly endless assault of setbacks and challenges, that she would become my now-wife and mother of two amazing kids.
Reflecting on this reminds me of an ancient story.
Chinese Parable on Luck
An elderly Chinese farmer and his son owned a single horse. They used the horse to do everything on the farm; it was essential for the farmer to their livelihood and sustenance.
One morning, the horse broke the fence and ran away into the woods. Upon learning this, the neighbors said, “Your only horse has run away just before the planting season. How will you till the land or sow the seeds? This is unfortunate. This is bad luck.”
The farmer replied, “Good luck, bad luck. Who knows?”
A few days later, the farmer’s horse returned from the woods along with two other wild horses. Upon hearing the news, the neighbors exclaimed, “Now you have three horses! You can till the land much faster. Maybe you can buy more land and sow more crops or sell the extra horses. Either way, you’ll be richer! This is good luck!”
The farmer replied, “Good luck, bad luck. Who knows?”
The next morning, the farmer’s son began training the wild horses to assist with farming. Unfortunately, he fell and broke his leg while trying to mount one. With the sowing season imminent, he could no longer help on the farm. The neighbors commented again, “This is really unfortunate. This is bad luck.”
The farmer repeated, “Good luck, bad luck. Who knows?”
A few days later, the king’s men began visiting each village to enlist the eldest son from every family for a war against a neighboring enemy state. Upon reaching the farmer’s house and seeing the son’s broken leg, they deemed him unfit for service and left him behind. Remarkably, he became the only eldest son in the village not drafted into the army. The neighbors, some with tears in their eyes, remarked, “Your son breaking his leg was incredibly fortunate. He is the only one spared from the draft. What a stroke of good luck.”
The farmer calmly replied – “Good luck, bad luck. Who knows?”
Wisdom from the Past, Lessons for Today
I’ve encountered various versions of this parable over the years, yet it always gives me pause, prompting deep reflection on my journey and its applicability across numerous scenarios and times.
I am not a rose-tinted optimist that believes “everything happens for a reason.” Instead, I am convinced that “everything happens for a reason if you give it one”. My mindset is a deliberate choice: Do I wallow in despair and cry “why me?” or lower my shoulder into the headwinds and cry out “why not me?”
What can I take away from this?
How could this give me the opportunity to rebuild my life the way I want to?
How can I ensure, as Winston Churchill once said, ‘Never let a good crisis go to waste’?
Only you and I can make that choice for ourselves. No outside circumstances or anyone else can decide—only the person staring back at us in the mirror.
What scar tissue from a battle earlier in life is carrying negative energy that’s holding you back?
What unfortunate situation is bombarding you right now that could benefit from a reframing of perspective?
Good Luck…Bad Luck…Who Knows?
Who knows? You do. That’s who. Choose to find the lesson, to grow stronger, and to be the hero—not the victim—of your story. Trust that in hindsight, the reasons will crystallize, transforming regrets and what-ifs into wisdom and gratitude.