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Richard Borough

October 21, 2020 By Scott "Q" Marcus

Ironically, I might never have met him if it wasn’t for this column.

I had been publishing it for about five years when a woman in one of my meetings pulled me aside as the meeting ended. Almost in a whisper, as if not wanting to be a tattletale, she said, “I think somebody is plagiarizing you.”

“Why?” I asked.

She pulled from her purse a clipped article from the local paper written by Dr. Richard Borough, Ph.D. “Look at this,” she said, tapping the paper, “It’s the same thing you talk about in our meetings. You might want to call him.” The piece was about SMART goals.

“Thank you,” I said, “But, no, he didn’t copy me. That’s a common technique among those of us who work on goal setting.”

It was, however, enough of a prompt for me to reach out and introduce myself to him.

Richard ran a business support group, “Mastermind Alliance,” which he developed years prior when he was getting his practice on its feet in the bay area. When he moved to the Northcoast, he relocated its meetings, eventually expanding it also to the Central Valley. I had heard of it from business associates, almost always spoken of in hushed reverence; regarded as a blend of the “Million Dollar Circle” and the Who’s Who of local entrepreneurs. Great minds developed great concepts within its monthly get-togethers; only the best were invited.

Richard asked me to attend the first day we met. I don’t know if I was a “Great Mind,” yet I enjoyed the camaraderie, companionship, and supportive sharing. As my career morphed and changed, I no longer needed to attend; however, it remained on my calendar and whenever an open Wednesday made itself available, I was there.

Richard was at first a mentor, but as we worked jointly on projects, and discovered we had so many similarities, such as writing, speaking, marketing, and coaching; we developed a tight bond. He reached out to me for suggestions as often as I with him. It was inevitable that Richard and I became more than friends. I know the expression is somewhat overused, but he really did feel like a brother. I never had a brother, let alone an older one. Richard filled that role, as well as being a loyal friend.

For some reason unbeknownst to me, we didn’t go out often, only doing so on each other’s birthdays.

That was it, no more. Yet we never missed it. That unto itself was not so odd, but he insisted that we forever, every time, without fail, visit Oaxaca Grill and always order the same meal. We would do so on his birthday each year — and then again on mine. Despite suggestions from me, no other options were considered.

“Why do we always come here?” I asked. “Why not somewhere else?”

“I like this restaurant.” He replied simply as if that answered everything.

[Read more…]

Filed Under: Newspaper Column, Personal, Tribute Tagged With: death of a loved one, friendship, grief, in memoriam, relationships, sadness

Is it Fear or is it Excitement?

September 30, 2020 By Scott "Q" Marcus

As if we need yet another way to divide us, I’m going to do it anyway.

There are two types of people in the world: Those who enjoy roller coasters, and those who would rather have sharp object pierce their eyeballs. The difference between is how each rider labels what is happening in their body as they are being hurled over the amusement park’s grounds at 80 miles per hour. As each exits the ride onto the platform, those who enjoyed the experience are screaming in glee, “My God! That was amazing!” Conversely, the others too are yelling: “My God! That was terrifying!”

Upon giving thought to the reactions, the reality is they both experienced the same events, possibly even sitting next to each other. Each viewed the same sights; felt the wind racing across their skin; faced (literally) the identical ups and downs at the same precise periods. Their bodies felt equivalent forces acting on them; heart rates elevated; breathing increased and shallow; g-forces pushing on them without a difference.

The only variance was whether they labeled those sensations as “fear” or as “excitement”

In that word, lies all the difference.

Excitement is anticipatory; propelling us forward with a sense of awe and an expectation of positive results forthcoming; our senses are heightened. Excitement triggers creativity, sparking us to ask of ourselves, “What if…?” From such analysis, inspired energy explodes outward, saturating our views with the prospect of what might be. Excitement spreads outward, embraces the next; moving us eagerly, joyfully, expectantly, and fully aware into new experiences.

Fear, on the other hand, is protective; alerting us to – in reality, or perception –pending danger. Of course, that triggers the fight or – most likely – flight response. Physically and emotionally, we shrink, hunkering down, seeking shelter with a laser focus, ignoring all that surrounds us. We desperately hunt for avenues to extricate ourselves from what we perceive as a threat, our one and only objective — overpowering all else — is “make it stop.” Nothing else matters.

Neither emotion is good nor bad; they simply are.

Without the cautionary voice of fear, we would not survive. Without excitement, we do not thrive nor love nor grow; we merely exist.

You might be saying, “That’s all well and good, but I don’t care what you call it, there’s no way I’m getting into a rickety, coffin-shaped mechanism and allowing myself to be hurled at excessive speeds up and down a skinny metal track while secured only by a bar and a belt. Call it what you wish, that’s just nuts.”

Yet the implications of understanding the difference between these two twin-sibling emotions can make all the difference in the path of our lives. As I’ve said oft-times, “What we say to ourselves determines what we do to ourselves.” To that end, let’s move it into the real world of 2020.

I’ll own up to being frightened; there is much to be fearful about. I don’t want to get COVID; it strikes terror in me. I am filled with consternation about financial collapse and not being able to survive well and easily into my later years. I am deeply dismayed at the level of discourse and violence shattering our country. I shudder at the affront shown to vulnerable populations. I am anxious about our planet; I know Earth will survive – but will we? I am upset about the world in which future generations will be raised. There is much to be worried about.

I am scared. I admit it. I own it. And when I so focus, I, by default, contract, hopeless, stagnant, hunkered down, immobile; a passenger in my own life.

Yet, I also know that from pain births greatness.

I don’t understand why they have to be related but I accept that they are. While admittedly timorous, the prospect of cooperative peoples overcoming climate change, injustice, and financial inequity fills me with hope. I can imagine a world where we live in balance with our environment, where disagreement is resolved civilly and respectfully, and those elected ‑— via free and fair contests — seek only the betterment of all concerned. That prospect is exciting.

Of course, I don’t know how it will turn out. Both are formless futures. Yet, together they reside in possibility at the same time, neither path locked in. Should I paint tomorrow with the hues of “excitement,” I will move forward toward that vision. Should I brand it as “fear,” I shall remain stagnant, allowing that vision to manifest.

One day, we’ll exit this ride, one way or another. When we place our feet firmly or shakily onto the platform, what will be the conclusion of the statement: “My God, that was…”?

The choice is ours.

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a professional speaker and founder of www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com, where he can be contacted for coaching, consulting, and presentations. During this social distancing period, he is conducting monthly on-line workshops on setting goals and getting past what holds you back. You can find out more at www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com/intentions

Filed Under: Hope, Inspiration, Newspaper Column, Power of Attitude, Self Talk Tagged With: amusement park, attitude, emotions, fear, feelings, inspiration

Hanging Around Getting Fit

September 23, 2020 By Scott "Q" Marcus

There is confusion as to why the current pandemic’s virus is named “COVID-19.”

The CDC, on its website, explains, “In COVID-19, ‘CO’ stands for ‘corona,’ ‘VI’ for ‘virus,’ and ‘D’ for the disease.” “Nineteen” refers to the year the virus was discovered.

Not wishing to disagree with such an esteemed, well-respected, scientific organization but, in the same manner that the “Freshman 15” refers to the 15 pounds many first-time college students gain in their first year, the 19 in COVID-19 is, in reality, a reference to how much weight most of us gain while stuck in our abodes, gulping junk food, watching Netflix, and hoping to survive until 2021. After all, let’s be honest, if the apocalypse is nigh, does it really matter how many Twinkies I consume?

So, while commemorating “south of the border night” on my couch (a celebration in which I engage several nights a week), consisting of an extra-large helping of nachos and a Margarita (or two), I had to unbuckle my belt and was therefore painfully confronted with the fact that I was becoming a tad “thick around the middle.”

“Nah, not me,” thought I. After all, everyone knows that calories consumed to medicate feelings of sadness or anxiety don’t add pounds. Clearly, my belt shrunk. Hefting myself from the sofa like a nine-month pregnant woman struggling to rise, I waddled to the scale, only to be alarmed at the number flashing before me.

“NO! Can’t be,” said I, putting down the bean dip and wiping the melted cheese from my face, “Time for a new scale.”

“Honey,” I called out, seeking confirmation that I remained as svelte as a 27-year-old fitness trainer, “Am I putting on weight?”

<crickets>

“Honey? Did you hear me?” I bellowed again from the bathroom scale while contorting myself into various poses on the platform to lower the number. (None worked.)

From the kitchen, the garbage disposal activates, blasting forth an earsplitting racket; my wife shouting over the din, “Sorry dear, I can’t hear you. Talk to me later.”

Point taken.

Faced with an indisputable truth, I – being the motivator that I am – decided to immediately commence a plan to flatten my stomach. Eating fewer chips would be a good start, but I wasn’t quite “there” yet. Instead, opting to strengthen my arms and make flat my belly by pulling out timeworn exercise equipment stored in the back of the closet since the Carter administration. I lugged the “ab flattener” sit-up machine into the guest room, blew off the dust (coughed repeatedly), and located it in the center of the floor. Next, pushing aside old moth-ridden blankets, and beyond the tchotchkes in boxes, I yanked loose my ancient pull-up bar, secured it to the door jamb, and gave it a yank or two to ensure it could support my now-heftier bulk.

“Okay,” said I to myself, picturing six-pack abs within the week. “What is my strategy?”

[Read more…]

Filed Under: Baby Boomers, Diet, Exercise, goals, Health, humor, Newspaper Column, Overcoming Obstacles, planning Tagged With: changing habits, comfort food, covid 19, diet, exercise plan, humor

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