I am all about celebrating milestones, and this is a big one. This column is my hundredth, which, of course, makes me pause.
I began writing in this place almost a year ago, and today, I want to take a look back and see where we’ve come.
The first thing I wrote was a little fictional piece about being in finance class, and it was an attempt to invite you in to what seemed like a classroom setting.
The following several columns all blurted out some core definitions for our practice in the world of finance, providing definitions for money, wealth, success, and retirement, and purpose.
Weeks 9 through 11 even saw a 3-part definition of the meaning of life—hey, nobody ever said I was bashful. (I still think that series holds water and can be very helpful if you have lost your way or want to find a better way.)
But as time went on, I started writing pieces of advice, little snippets that I gather in my daily work. Those snippets are little seeds planted in my garden that germinate, and I always love to share them.
Week 16-18 I wrote about items of wonder: the miracle of human connection, the emptiness of life without beauty, and the positivity in my life from our local Rotary club.
I wrote to clarify definitions, to give advice (and find it), and to share in the wonder of life.
And maybe the reason I’m writing this today is because I want to make space to comment on the writing going forward.
I am not a guru with advice for every season and situation, and neither am I a dictionary with definitions and descriptions—and even if you could find such a guru, I’m not sure they would actually be much help unless they literally moved in with you.
Instead of writing to transfer knowledge, my goal is becoming a writing meant to change the way your mind works, the way it processes the world.
That internal view of the world is like a lens we all see through, and that lens is constantly under attack.
Advertisement firms know this, so they tell you “you can’t live without this new phone”, and after a while, you start to believe them and see the world that way: nobody can live without a new phone!
It’s my passion to reset that vision to its base default position.
The good thing is, like you, I am human. I am afflicted by the same core problems, am overjoyed in the same wonderful experiences as you, and am puzzled at the same frustrations as us all.
But I think the reason writers write is to help the reader connect his specific problem with the bigger picture, to remove the blinders that automatically descend on us all so that we are equipped with what ancient scholars call vision.
That vision is the internal view we have of our lives.
And I believe that if we all shared the same vision, our world would be near-about perfect. In ancient times, kings set that vision and everyone fell in line. If the king was good, it was a good experience, if he was bad…well you get it.
But Americans have no king.
Our vision is the product of the free market—for good and for evil.
This is why we read.
This is why we write.
That is why this column exists.
I’m no Yoda; I have no secret to success, no drum to pound or ax to grind, but what I am is who I am.
I’m Adam, a human whose vision has been shaped by the reading of great books, the conversations with great people, and the devotion to a great God.
I’m a passionate participant in the business of life, and this column is the pointed, weekly advertisement to joining me in that mission for vision.
“The most pathetic person in the world is some one who has sight but no vision.” ― Helen Keller.