Necessary, But Not Sufficient

Epic Quest progress report: Today is day 14. Total word count: 4929 words.

My first brigade commander in the Army was then-Colonel David McKiernan. I was in the same space with him maybe two or three times, but he taught me one of the few lessons I have carried with me word-for-word from those days:

There are two kinds of plans, he would say. There are plans that might work, and plans that won’t work. There’s no such thing as a plan that’s guaranteed to work.

The first time I heard him say that was in 1995. He went on to retire as a four-star general in 2009. That, plus the fact that every soldier in his command seemed to admire and respect him, always seemed to me like strong evidence that he knew what he was talking about.

It seems like pessimism in today’s you-can-do-anything world. But I never took it that way. Because what Colonel McKiernan was saying wasn’t it can’t be done or it’s impossible to succeed. He was simply saying that the kind of meticulous planning and preparation that goes into a U.S. Army combat operation might not be enough. Because no matter how much you plan and prepare, no matter how well you analyze the terrain and the weather and your enemies’ capabilities, it’s always possible they might do something you don’t expect. Or a critical position might fail because a soldier fell sick, or got bad news from home. Or you just got unlucky.

You can mitigate those risks. But it doesn’t guarantee success. It’s necessary, but not sufficient.

That lesson has stayed with me because it’s applicable to a lot more than combat. It’s helpful to know I can influence outcomes in those parts of my life I care deeply about through planning and study and preparation.

But it’s healthy to remember that I can do all those things and still fail. That life and the universe are under no obligation to grant me success, no matter how much I work. So I need to make sure the things I’m doing are worth doing in themselves–they’re necessary–whether or not they lead to financial security (which is what we almost always mean in this culture when we say success).

So I’m diligent at my job, not because my boss tells me to be, but because I like doing work I can be proud of. And I try to remember not to use my job as an excuse to neglect my health or my family or my writing.

So I’m conscientious about eating right and moving my body, not because I expect to ever compete in the Crossfit Games, but because I feel good after a workout and I like the way I feel when I’m healthy.

So I stay close to my wife and kids and give them as much attention as I can, because one day they will be faced with a decision I can’t help them with and I want them to make the right decision for them.

So I set myself challenges like writing every day for 101 days, not because I expect to write a bestseller (although that would be really cool), but because I enjoy it and I like me better when I’m writing than when I’m not.

And I try to remember that these things I do are what a life is built on. And if it’s not exactly the life I dream of (whose is, really?), it’s a life I can be proud of.

I've been a soldier, a dreamer, a working stiff, a leader. A husband, father, example (good and otherwise), and now a survivor. I write about courage, because courage is what enables us to accomplish the impossible. If you draw breath, I love you. If you love in whatever way seems best to you and want others to love in whatever way seems best to them, I am your ally. If you believe someone is less than you because they do not love the way you do, I oppose you. If you see someone as a threat to be abused or destroyed merely because they do not look like you, or love like you, or worship like you, I am your enemy. I am a joyful and courageous man. And I stand with you who love.