Motivation

“Motivation shapes perception” - Ram Dass in Be Here Now

Early yesterday morning, I stood quietly watching the waves roll in across Good Harbor Bay on the Leelanau Peninsula.

Normally, my sister’s house here is one of my favorite places to meditate—the wide-open horizon of Lake Michigan hypnotizing in its serene tranquility.

Not this morning.

I was moments away from diving in to swim nearly all-out against a relentless procession of one-foot swells. The first mile of a three-hour practice triathlon in preparation for the real thing in two weeks.

Usually, the lake brings me calm. Today, it was an intimidating challenge of my physical and mental strength.

This race simulation had been hanging over my head for days of vacation.

What was motivating me to do this? Why not just drink coffee and lounge with my family?

One of the most useful questions we can ask ourselves about anything we’re pursuing in life is: What’s important about this? What is my motivation?

The immediate and easy answer usually obscures a deeper truth.

Motivation Evolves

When I started triathlons a few years ago, I was motivated by my ego and the physical challenge. I was in my 40s and I loved the idea that I was doing something most people did at a much younger age.

I enjoyed saying “I’m still on the way up!”

It also became an effective way to continue fundraising again in support of my son Silas. I raised over $50k the first couple years and while I was immensely proud of that, my ego was still focused on the fact that I continued to fall short of finishing the race in under three hours.

I was exhausted from the pursuit after falling short in 2023 and ready to retire.

Then my buddy Pete said he wanted to join me next year. Then six more friends. Then, this year, our team grew five fold.

So has our impact. We’re over six figures raised for the epilepsy community so far with two weeks to go.

And as I sit here and reflect, I see how that shift from inspiration has helped me find a deeper motivation for all this effort.

A sense of connection. That connection I felt when Pete reached out to me so selflessly.

Now we have two new dads of adorable toddlers on the team—two young dads like I was, who were thrust into this terrifying world of seizures and rare disease for the first time last year.

They are beginning their own journey of self-discovery. As are the three dozen other people on the team who are racing in support of our cause, even though they aren’t personally impacted.

But they connected themselves to it anyway.

As I reflect, I see how my motivation evolves from surface-level ego to a much deeper and more fulfilling sense of connection, duty in honor of others, and ultimately—love.

Fear vs. Love

All human motivation comes down to fear or love. It’s what drives everything on a subconscious level.

And most of the time, especially for the first half of our lives, we’re driven by fear.

Carl Jung said, “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”

Fear keeps us separate, hidden, “safe.” It compels us to wear the masks we perform our daily lives in, keeping our true selves hidden as we pursue our culture’s celebration of accomplishments, status, and money.

And the harder we push toward those external validations—the extrinsic motivations—the more we miss the whole point.

Love is what connects us, compels us to act outside our comfort zones, and risk vulnerability.

A couple of years ago, I started sharing more intimate thoughts and experiences of our journey through the hardship of my son’s condition. Something amazing happened as I did.

The process of sharing publicly helped strip away the protective covering that shielded me and kept the world from knowing who I was and what I really think deep down.

Though my ego would cringe and resist, the more I shared, the more freedom I felt.

And I experienced a near-universal embrace from friends, family, and total strangers who shared encouragement and donated generously to our cause.

It was this sharing that Pete pointed to that made him want to join me. And that’s what led to where we are today. Not just in our team doing the triathlon, but in my own courage to publish this column every week.

Letting Go

And so this process continues to teach me the importance of letting go.

Letting go of fear. Of attachment to my performance. Of the pursuit of anything that feels like it’s directing me toward ends important only to me.

It’s why yesterday, a couple miles into the run on these godforsaken Northern Michigan hills—two hours and change into the workout—I had to stop running. I was absolutely spent.

My ego was screaming, “You suck! You’re never going to beat three hours if you’re stopping now.”

But as I ran and walked the rest of the way, unlike in years past, I recognized the fear of failure that was driving that voice. I reframed the totality of the experience into the more meaningful truth.

That this race, the training, and everything that goes into it is about one thing for me: connection and service.

And I can stand resolutely in the face of any tantrum my ego wants to throw, hold that voice with compassion, and assure it that we are in pursuit of a much nobler goal.

One that doesn’t have a finish line.

The real race isn’t about time or distance. It’s the lifelong practice of choosing love over fear. And developing the awareness and understanding of how easily and often we default into fear.

We all run that race every day. It’s why we must frequently ask ourselves what our motivation is—because it’s easy to get distracted by the ego’s voice.

And I’ll need to continue to remind myself of this because, no matter how much I believe it, I still want that three-hour goal.

But I don’t need it.

And when I tap into this deeper motivation, my perception of the world and my place in it expands.

-CoachKris

P.S. What our team is accomplishing this year continues to inspire me to believe in this message to my bones. As it grows every year I begin to believe we can make truly a difference in the fight against this disease. Please donate here if you’re able

PSS… Whether training for a triathlon or writing an essay on motivation, this view of the Good Harbor Bay on the Leelanau Peninsula in Northern Michigan never disappoints.