My Mt. Everest | February 2006 Newsletter

My Mount Everest: February, 2006
Merle M. Singer, Founder

Welcome to the premier issue of my e-letter. If this weren’t a graphically challenged e-letter, it would have pictures of fireworks, confetti and balloons. Oh well, you’ll just have to picture it.

I guess a good place to start is by explaining the title. People that climb Mt. Everest don’t do it as a vocation, they don’t do it to improve their vocation. Climbing Mt. Everest has no noticeable connection to the main road of their life. They climb Mt. Everest to challenge themselves. It’s appeal is that it is so different from their lives.

Another appeal is it has a clearly definable beginning and end. The commitment ends with the end of the journey. Plus it is clearly a stretch, a challenge; it requires preparation and follow through and fortitude (guts). Frankly, I never understood the appeal. It seemed pointless, unnecessary, useless.

Well, last year I climbed my own mountain and caught the bug. I’ll tell you more about that challenge in another issue. But the setting out of a definable challenge of clear beginning and end that stretches your capabilities is frightening, exhilarating, absorbing and a definite boost of confidence.

This e-letter is this year’s Mt. Everest.

I am planning a monthly publication that will evolve as I go. Along the way, I would like to add one article by another voice, so if you have any ideas about who (yourself included) would be a good guest article writer, let me know. In fact, just let me know ñ any facts, reactions, impressions. I love the feed back.

Ultimately, I want to write a book, and the e-letters are to loosen me up and to develop material. The book is next year’s Mt. Everest. Actually, this Mt. Everest concept is catching on with me and I am multi tasking Mt. Everests — I’m challenging myself in a few areas. But I can only handle talking about this one right now.

“You just have to jump off the cliff sometimes.”

Pierce Brosnan, during a TV interview, 2005

I’m writing this on the plane to the East coast, summoned to help our son and family. (It makes me feel so good that our kids think of us — my husband and I — as part of the solution, when there’s a hint of possible trouble.) Anyway, I was watching the in-flight entertainment after the movie. Brook Burk was interviewing reality show graduates.

I always thought those contestants were in search of a life, but I’ve come to realize they are living their lives, climbing their Mt. Everests. And look what it gets them; whatever they want, a bigger world with more and larger choices. Several have gotten TV shows. One is investing in restaurants and using his familiar face as entre to celebrities to finance his gastronomic ventures. One Survivor graduate was saying how much greater his life was after the show.

I don’t think it’s about being on TV, necessarily, though it doesn’t seem to hurt. I think it’s about defaulting to action. You know, JUST DO IT. Things in motion tend to stay in motion. It’s about seeing the bigger possibilities. It’s about daring to dream. It’s risking. It’s risking looking like an idiot in front of the world. That bravery is rewarded in opportunities.

So instead of being smug maybe we(I) should learn from these “idiots who are making fools of themselves.” Instead of condescending, we/I should be ascending to their sense of adventure and freedom to do something without having to be able to predict the outcome, which we really can’t do anyway, even though we think we can.

That’s it folks, I’m spent. Please let me know your reactions. You are my beta group: friends, family, people with various expertise and perspectives from different parts of my life that I think may enjoy this, and/or have good suggestions and improvements to make. Each month I will increase my mailing list as much as I dare till I run out of names. So if you think of people who would enjoy being added to the list, please let me know. Also, let me know if you’re too busy to participate, and I will free you from receiving these e-letters.