The Promises Journey
My college years have been on my mind lately. I don’t know why. I was remembering the experience of discovering an entirely new place for the first time and what that was like.
I’ve only recently realized that it was a series of promises that took me from milepost to milepost over the years. It was a series of quiet promises that made my life as rich as it’s been. I guess I never thought about it all that much before. It’s like suddenly becoming aware of a habit. It’s as if I saw a video of myself and noticed the way I said or did something I never thought much about until that moment.
Getting out of Oshkosh, Wisconsin was a promise to myself. It was something that I made at a young age, and all my school friends knew I’d keep it. It was a thrilling first step. It’s not like I left thinking, we’ll I’m going because I made a promise. I was excited to go.
Everything about moving to Olympia, Washington to attend college was new. I had no idea where the adventure would take me. Going for a walk in the moss covered woods, seeing giant slugs for the first time. Every bit of it was magical for me, right down to the phosphorescence in the moss, and sometimes in the water at night in Eld Inlet. Everything about the Pacific Northwest was enchanting to me, like I was now living on a different planet. I felt like I was in the low budget version of Avatar but just as enchanted.
The pursuit of that promise alone was like I was given a chance to start over and build an entirely new life. I wanted to write or call my friends and tell them about all the daily discoveries, from the mountains to the Pacific Coast, and the massive changes in tides that captivated my imagination. I’d go down to the beach near campus in the middle of the night at low tide just to discover something new. I couldn’t get enough of the campus woods and the constant discoveries.
Getting my college degree was another promise to myself, along with that promise to get out of Oshkosh. It was my promises that were making my life exciting. Fulfilling promises are what drove me from point to point, except I didn’t have to think about it. It never felt like I was creating an obligation in any form. It was merely what was important.
There was never a moment when I considered breaking one, regardless of how inconvenient. I gave it about as much thought as taking out the weekly trash. It was just something I had to do, like getting dressed in the morning. It’s not like I wake up and think, no I’m not getting dressed today, I just did it. It was mechanical and somewhat unconscious.
I’d also made the promise to myself at fourteen that I’d never drink alcohol, or participated in recreation drugs, and I’ve never broken that promise either. Nobody asked me to do it. It was never hard. It’s not like a faced a bottle and ever said, gee I promised. I never thought about it again.
I made a promise to my parents that I’d never miss a Christmas with them, and until they died, I never broke that promise either. I sometimes went though hell to get back to Oshkosh, but I’d make it. I never considered not going back for Christmas, because I knew how much it meant to my parents and I love a good adventure.
Some of those journeys flying home for Christmas, getting stuck at connecting airports, or for even more fun, driving through raging snow storms and freezing cold are still some of the best memories I have. I drove through minus 32 degrees in Montana and saw air so clear at night that I could see hundreds of miles like it was right there. I couldn’t get over the clear air that seemed to magnify everything. I wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for a promise and at that moment, there was no place I’d rather be than see that sight.
On one trip back to Seattle, a group of us were stranded along I90 in Montana and we all helped each other until the road cleared. I had the only vehicle in that group that could drive a path down to the bathrooms at the rest stop, so I shuttled people who couldn’t walk in the deep snow. We all had a great time and made the best of it. It felt festive.
It was all rooted in keeping a promise I never thought much about. That was the underpinning of the adventure.
Over the years, as I fell into a routine, the explorer in me has never gone away. In part, it has roots in all of my entrepreneurial journeys and the promises I make to myself that would dive me to get there. Keeping a promise means something to me and I rarely tell others about it.
It could be the byproduct of my moral compass and sense of self-esteem or it could be what drives it. They are very well connected, regardless. It’s what keeps my feet firmly planted on the ground and helps me run a company with purpose.
When I was in college, I couldn’t afford a car. I spent about six years without one, from October of 1978, until August, 1984. That’s humbling. I remember the miserable years well and all I thought about was someday owning a reliable car. I made promises to myself that I’d someday own exotic cars, in part to justify the sacrifices I was making during that entrepreneurial journey.
I had a landlord in college who owned a 1938 Rolls Royce, and that too led to a promise as I wanted to have one someday, and all for the same reasons he had his car. He would invite friends for country drives to hidden restaurants. When I bought the Phantom, it was the country drives that made it fun, and those are my best memories of that car. Once I had the experience, I was done.
In 1984, I was finally able to buy a very used, high mile diesel VW Rabbit. “Reliable” wasn’t yet an option in my life. The thing was noisy at idle, like someone was shaking rocks in wooden box in a steady annoying rhythm. It fell apart around me like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Parts would just fall off for no apparent reason. I’d be on the side of the road wondering, “why?”
When you’re without a car for as long as I was, once you get a car, you have to drive everywhere and for any reason that pops into your head. I’d drive to Florida for a ham sandwich if someone asked. They didn’t. I didn’t own my first new car until I was thirty-five. That was a big day! I’ll never forget what that was like.
The shift from limited freedom to sudden explorer on a larger scale fueled my enthusiasm and you couldn’t get me out of my car for at least the next ten years. No, more like twenty.
In spite of starting Exotics at Redmond Town Center, I’m not a car geek. I have a massive appreciation for cars, because I went without for so long, not because I’m into cars. I’ve owned exotics because of promises to myself about milestones in my life that got me through tough times. It was another promise kept that delighted me, and changed the course of my life just for doing it. I promised to drive Pacific Coast Highway in an exotic and that’s the very first thing I did.
It was my promises to my two prior dogs to be with them until the very end of their lives that was rewarding when they both passed at fifteen, two decades apart. It’s the promise I make to my third dog. It’s been my promises that connect all the dots and take me from goal to goal. It’s the keeping them that gives me a sense of pride and fuels my drive to the next thing. I don’t worry about anything else.
It was my promises that got me sailing, flying, building a gyrocopter, owning and traveling in a motor coach, motorcycle trips, sailing, and so many other things. Check and check.
When I think back, it was the promises to myself that resulted in great achievements and the richness I’ve experienced. Without those promises, I don’t know where I’d be right now. It was also those promises that got me though the tough times. They were a component of my mission. Even today, I still make promises, and I always keep them. They are still what takes me from point to point. It’s what I think about when I start my day.
Thinking back, I’ve never made a bad promise, such as a promise to get even, or something negative in any way. It’s always been a, “…when I get through this thing, I’m going to do something else to reward me and reward others for getting through it.”
Even now, what’s driving me are promises I keep making. They are what inspire me and take me on the journey as an explorer, connecting one promise after another, that keeps my life rich with experiences I otherwise wouldn’t have. It’s my promises that make me who I am.