- You can have everyone’s respect, but no one will love you.
- You can have everyone’s love, but no one will respect you.
(This might be hard to follow. Today is August 16th. I began writing this blog post on June 6th and titled it “GTFOOYH,” a reference that you’ll read below. I finished the post, which was primarily about some mental and emotional struggles I’ve been going through and how a song by a new band I love has helped me cope. I showed the post to my wife and she said it was great, but I didn’t publish it. I guess I was afraid.
Much has changed since I finished the original post, and I’ve thought about scrapping it and starting over. But that would give me an excuse to edit out some of the stuff that I found difficult to write about; I don’t want to do that. So I’m going to leave the original post in tact below and then write a lengthy postscript that brings the story to its current status today. And I’m changing the title to reflect where I am, not where I was. Apologies if this is hard to follow and a bit messy. That’s how life is sometimes….)
[Note: This is what I began writing in early June.]
Every once in a great while, a song comes along that changes your world.
It happened for me a couple months ago when I heard a song called “Do Not Let Your Spirit Wane.” I was listening to this new band called Gang Of Youths on Spotify and stopped what I was doing as this song played. I knew I’d found something special.
My wife and I were having lunch recently at a hotel restaurant when I told her about this song. I began reciting some of the lyrics. My voice cracked. I started to cry. I told her, “This is the most important song that’s come into my life in at least the past 20 years.”
Not long ago, a friend emailed me with an offer I couldn’t refuse: A ticket to see U2’s intimate show at the Apollo Theater in Harlem on June 11. What U2 fan wouldn’t jump at the chance to see his favorite band in a small, historic theater with only about 1,500 other fans?
I thanked this friend profusely and did some quick research on travel and accommodations. Within an hour, I used frequent flier miles to book flights to New York City on Alaska Airlines, and booked a reasonably affordable hotel, too. I was gonna be able to see this once-in-a-lifetime show for about $600.
Twenty minutes later, the excitement had worn off. I realized I was going only because I felt I should, not because I really wanted to. I canceled the flight and hotel bookings.
It was the latest weird twist in my longtime U2 fandom. I wrote about some of this a couple months ago — not buying new albums, not chasing down new vinyl releases and so forth.
My wife is pretty alarmed by this lack of interest in U2. The band, after all, has been part of my life for longer than she has. They’ve been part of my identity. A constant. She wonders if I’m suddenly walking away from them, what else am I willing to walk away from?
I’ve never talked about this with anyone until that aforementioned lunch with my wife:
I’m deathly afraid of dying. The thought of leaving this earth — of leaving my wife (if I die first) and kids — scares the hell out of me. This started probably 10 years ago or so, and has slowly gotten worse over time.
It’s gotten to the point of being mentally paralyzing for almost entire days. There was a day about 3-4 weeks ago that I couldn’t stop thinking about dying, and how afraid I am of it, and I was unable to think about anything else — couldn’t get any work done, couldn’t do anything. I was stuck inside my head and totally gripped by this fear. It was awful.
Somewhat complicating the matter is that I’m a Christian and I know I’m supposed to welcome death with open arms. For Christians, death is an opportunity to finally see our real Father and spend eternity with Him. We’re taught that this world isn’t our home; Heaven is. And we’re taught that death isn’t to be feared.
So, in addition to the general fear of sharing this with anyone, there’s also been the idea that talking about it with any of my Christian friends, or even a Christian counselor, would be pointless because I already know what they’d say. They’d be supportive and caring, for sure, but I already know what the Bible says about death and this world not being our home. I know. It’s not helping.
All of this has been noticeably worse since both my mom and dad died in the past few years — my dad in 2015 and my mom late last year. I’m still not used to being without both parents, and I’m starting to wonder if I ever will be.
My mom died nine months ago. For the first 6-7 months after she died, not a Sunday went by that I didn’t mistakenly think, “I need to call Mom today,” like I’d done pretty much every Sunday for the past 10-20 years. For the past month or two, I’ve stopped thinking I need to call her, but I haven’t stopped wishing I could.
I’ve spent most of the past couple years in what I call turtle mode. My tendencies towards introversion have been in full bloom. I’m consciously avoiding many things and choosing to stay in my shell. Earlier this year, I took some initial steps toward becoming a small business mentor with SCORE, but soon decided that I’m too busy these days to make that commitment.
I am busy — no doubt about that. But I also feel like, if I was in a better state mentally, I could’ve stuck it out and figured out a way to make it work.
There’s a line in “Do Not Let Your Spirit Wane” that really hits home for me:
And it’s strange, all the things that I’ve run from
Are the things that completeness could come from
Deep down, that’s exactly how I feel — like I’m running from things that I’d really enjoy.
As I sat at lunch that day with Cari, telling her about all this — the new song I love, the sometimes paralyzing fear of death, the continued sadness I have about my mom’s death (and my dad’s), I cautiously said this:
“I feel like I might have some kind of mild form of depression.”
She started nodding in agreement before I finished the sentence.
I was — and still am — super reluctant to make that kind of self-diagnosis because I don’t mean to diminish the struggles of people who are really battling through something worse than my current struggle. Depression is a serious word, a serious condition — and I don’t want to be accused of blowing some ongoing sadness out of proportion. On the other hand, I keep seeing lots of messages on social media about how you can’t keep it inside, you can’t be afraid to share what’s going on. And so that’s what I’m trying to hold onto as I type this.
As Cari nodded, she reminded me that she went into a state of depression in 2008 after her dad died. She even went to counseling for it. (I confessed that I’d forgotten about that.)
She told me that one of the common expressions of depression is that you reject things you love. After her dad died, she stopped reading. And if you know my wife, you know that reading is just about as important to her as breathing.
I’m sure there are people who would say the same thing about me and U2.
I wasn’t there when my dad died. My sisters were, and they called me to share the news. I went back to Pennsylvania for the funeral, but I never had the chance to say goodbye to him.
That changed a few months later when a completely unexpected series of events fell into place at the last minute, and I found myself at a U2 concert in Chicago. In the middle of the show, I felt compelled to put my camera away and let the music wash over me. As the band played “Bad,” I saw my dad sitting in our house as we watched Rattle And Hum together. I cried a river of tears and, in that moment, was finally able to say goodbye to him.
I think I went into U2’s current tour expecting the same kind of catharsis about my mom’s death. I saw three of the early shows this year, and that moment never happened. There was no “Bad” moment this time around. I knew it wasn’t (isn’t) fair to put that kind of pressure and expectation on a band, but I also knew that U2 had never let me down before in that way.
Since then I’ve realized that it wasn’t only unfair to ask a band/concert to do that for me, but it was also unnecessary. I did say goodbye to my mom already. I was at her bedside last year when she died. Now I just need to work on accepting that she’s gone, and that I said what I needed to say before she died. Baby steps.
In “Do Not Let Your Spirit Wane,” Gang Of Youths’ singer/songwriter Dave Le’aupepe tells the story of a dream that he had regularly in which his imaginary wife/girlfriend and their kid die in a car accident while he’s drunk in the basement of their home.
The song title is a take on a Charles Bukowski line (“As the spirit wanes, the form appears”) and Le’aupepe has referenced a philosopher named Martin Heidegger when talking about the lyrics … all of which is, for me, very reminiscent of U2 and Bono’s lyric writing over the years. So, I love that aspect.
The chorus is an encouragement — or maybe a reminder — to not waste time, and not waste the gifts that grace has bestowed on us.
Do not let this thing you got go to waste
Do not let your heart be dismayed
It’s here by some random disclosure of grace
From some vascular, great thing
It’s an important message and one that I’ve tried over the years to impress on my kids. But it’s at the end of the song, in the last chorus, when the song cuts right to my bones.
Get the fuck out of your head if it says
“Stay cold and be deathly afraid”
Do not let your spirit wane
“Get the fuck out of your head.” That’s the lyric that I’ve needed to hear more than any other lately. Because I have been telling myself to stay cold, and I’ve been deathly afraid of my own death for so long now. Too long.
GTFOOYH.
I’ve made that acronym my Twitter profile, and every so often (1, 2 and 3) I’ll tweet it with no explanation … just a reminder and encouragement to myself.
If you see one of those tweets, now you’ll know what’s going on. It might mean I’ve caught myself having a moment. Or it might just be me encouraging myself not to have a moment. I’m not looking for sympathy, but I’d obviously welcome the prayers and support of anyone reading this.
Things are starting to look better. I’ve committed to a speaking engagement next month — my first one in more than four years. My U2 malaise continues unabated, but I’m kind of excited by the progress we’re making on a new atu2.com website, so that’s good. And I’ve got this new song to remind me to GTFOOYH.
It’s a weird place I’m in. I don’t like it and I want to get back to normal. I just haven’t figured out how. Yet.
Here’s the song I’ve been talking about. The singer mumbles a bit so it might help to have the lyrics handy if you’re interested in listening.
[Note: This is the postscript that I started writing in late July.]
I flew to Dallas earlier this month for my first speaking gig in about four years. My first flight was a short hop over to Portland. It was a really early flight, which is always tough since I’m a night owl. Fortunately, I had a row to myself and decided to lean over against the window. I put on Gang Of Youths’ latest album, Go Farther In Lightness, and closed my eyes. I may have drifted in and out of sleep a bit.
I don’t know what song was playing, but there was a moment that I woke up and looked out the window. Mount Adams was right in front of me, like close enough that it felt like I could reach out and touch it. And as I looked at this beautiful sight and listened to this new album I love, the most incredible sense of peace washed over me. I said a little prayer of thanks, and suddenly sensed that my mom was okay and I would see her again in Heaven. The weight of her death was gone. Whatever difficulties I was having since I was at her bedside last October and saw her take those final breaths — I felt them leave me. It’s hard to explain even now; it was just the most wonderfully peaceful feeling.
I knew Cari would be awake and I knew I could text her since Alaska Airlines has that free-texting service while you fly. So I sent her this:
When I explained all this to her, she said that I’d felt the peace that transcends all understanding. Amen. That’s exactly what it was, and is.
That speaking engagement went really well. I gave two presentations and it was just like riding a bike; I felt very comfortable up in front of an audience again. And it was really good to see some friends from the marketing world that I hadn’t seen in a long time. I enjoyed taking a step out of “turtle mode.”
In the time since that flight, I’m still listening to Gang Of Youths as much as ever. But “Do Not Let Your Spirit Wane” isn’t my favorite song anymore; it’s been replaced by “The Deepest Sighs, The Frankest Shadows.” This song lifts up my spirits in much the same way that U2’s “Where The Streets Have No Name” did for years. Specifically, there’s one lyric in “Deepest Sighs” that I’ve clung to lately:
I will stand in the darkness and laugh with my heel on its throat.
For me, that lyric is the flip side of GTFOOYH. (I replaced it on my Twitter bio, too.) Once you’re out of your head, you’re not immune to the darkness and difficulties of life … but instead of letting it all get in your head, you put your heel on its throat. Strength over fear. Here’s a live performance of the full song below, and here are the full lyrics.
Since that moment on the flight to Portland, things are so different and so much better:
I no longer wake up on Sundays forgetting that my mom’s gone and thinking that I should call her. I still miss her, of course, but it’s not a missing of grief — it’s a missing of gratitude, of remembering all the great times and great blessings she poured into my life.
That fear of death that had paralyzed me for so long is gone.
I had the great experience getting back up in front of an audience in Dallas, and taking a step out of turtle mode.
I feel like that depression — if that’s what it was — is gone. Maybe it was something else, maybe just extended grief and sadness … I don’t know. Like I said, I’m really reluctant to use the D-word in this context. But the bottom line is that I’m in a much better place now than I’ve been for the past several months, if not the past few years, and I’m grateful for the discovery of a new band and new songs that have been a huge help in this turnaround.
So I’ll just wrap up this really long and really strange post by saying this: If I didn’t seem myself to you recently, and if that included doing or saying something that was hurtful or somehow inappropriate, I’m sorry. I haven’t been myself. I was in a weird place. But I’m getting back to normal now and feeling more like myself every day. I’ve got my heel on darkness’ throat. And I’m laughing.
It’s been more than a year since I sent some saliva to 23andMe to learn as much as I could about my genetic makeup. None of the reports I’ve been able to access since then have revealed any inclinations toward serious medical conditions … which is a Good Thing. (Here’s hoping that trend continues!)
I’m happy that I took the dive into this genetic testing/sharing, but it’s all been very abstract. For the most part, the tests are related to medical conditions that aren’t part of my daily life and experience.
That changed not long ago when 23andMe emailed me about several new reports that they added — one of which was for a minor condition I have called misophonia. I clicked through to read the report and, sure enough, 23andMe says that my genetics make me more likely to have it.
It never occurred to me that something like hating the sound of chewing would be a hereditary thing, but that’s apparently the case. Who knew!?!? This is something I deal with every day, which makes it the most visible and tangible connection to my biological parents. And that’s really cool. Less cool is that I’ve also passed misophonia on to my daughter. Family meals are few and far between with half the family not enjoying the sound of other people eating!
(By the way, my misophonia is probably not as bad as it is for others. Generally speaking, if I’m also eating, I don’t mind the sound of other people eating. Generally speaking, the sounds that bother me most are crunchy sounds like the cracking of potato chips or crackers. It’s annoying but I know it could be worse.)
2017 was the year that I said goodbye to my mom.
It’s been 2+ months since she died. I used to chat with her every weekend, usually on Sundays. And since she died, not a weekend has gone by when I haven’t thought to myself at some point, “Oh cool, I get to call mom today.” (or tomorrow) And then I’m reminded, “No. No, you don’t.”
It’s the strangest thing not having either of your parents around. So much gets written about dealing with a parent dying, but I don’t recall ever reading or hearing people talk about when the second parent dies. When your parents are alive, there’s some kind of buffer zone, a layer of protection between you and your own death. And then when both die, that protection is gone and it’s like … “you’re next!” Such a strange feeling to have both parents gone. I wasn’t at all prepared for this. But seriously, I’m fine. Not looking for sympathy here, just sharing some personal thoughts. (Many of you know that I consider this blog a personal journal.)
2017 was the year that I decided respect — both self-respect and respect from others — is more valuable than money, titles, status, etc.
In a marriage workshop that Cari and I attended many years ago, attendees were asked to choose one of these two options:
Our group of attendees, like most groups before us, voted largely on gender lines: Men (including me) overwhelmingly choose option 1 and women overwhelmingly choose option 2.
Maybe the biggest thing I learned about myself this year is that respect trumps all. I don’t need to be liked. I don’t need to be agreed with. I need to be respected. And this was the year I decided to stop surrounding myself with people who don’t respect me.
2017 was the year that I literally heard God’s voice for the second time in my life.
He was so right the first time I heard His voice (in 1993) … how could I not listen again this time? I still don’t know where He’s leading me, or why, but I know that listening was the right thing to do, no matter how difficult it was, how out-of-left-field it was, etc.
2017 was the year that I learned who my true friends are, for both better and worse.
After I left Third Door Media in July, almost everyone was incredibly supportive and helpful and rooting for me as I steered my career in a new direction — and I’m so grateful for that. But I soon learned that there was a small group of people who were spreading rumors about me. They were saying I left TDM because I was lazy and didn’t want to work hard, and because I was afraid I was going to get fired by my new boss. (Not only were the rumors false, but they were disrespectful to both me and my former boss, Danny Sullivan.) I thought the folks gossiping about me like that were friends, but that’s not how friends behave.
But more recently, I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of support from friends and acquaintances as I applied to be the Chief Experience Officer for Cancun.com. The help I got with this was crazy — more than 2,500 votes!!! Are you kidding me?? People from across the SEO industry, people from across U2 fandom, people from my wife’s social circles and all over the place were voting for me and sharing with their friends to drum up support. I didn’t make the cutdown to 100 finalists but that’s okay; what I got from the friends who came out of the woodwork to support and cheer me on was invaluable.
I can’t adequately express what that experience meant to me on a personal level. A simple “thank you” seems insufficient, but it’s all I have at the moment. Thank you. I was blown away by the amazing messages and shows of support — and it showed me that I have friends in places I never knew. Incredible.
2017 was the year that I devoted myself to helping my wife reach her career dreams.
Cari and I tried working together about 6-8 years ago; I’d give her online marketing advice and she’d ignore most of it. She wasn’t the best client, and I’m sure I wasn’t the best consultant. For a variety of reasons, we never clicked on that level. But it didn’t really slow her down too much — she’s still managed to become one of the top ~30 real estate agents in a market of (I think) 700 or so agents.
We gave it another shot in August of this year, and it’s been wonderful. We’re working like a team and I’m thrilled to be able to help her reach her career goals (which don’t include settling for being in the top 30). We’re having fun, too, and we’re succeeding together. And that feels wonderful!
2017 was the year that the McGee clan eschewed the Big Family Vacation and instead enjoyed several shorter/smaller vacations. We all went over to Seattle in May for a U2 concert, and again in July for a Mariners weekend (and watched them beat the Yankees). We had a wonderful visit from our friends from Arizona — Mat, Holly and their three kids — in July and drove out to see Palouse Falls for the first time. On top of that, Cari and I also enjoyed trips to Las Vegas, San Diego and Santa Monica — all loads of fun and great to get away for even just a few days here and there. A highlight was getting to visit our alma mater, Pepperdine University, for the first time in a couple decades.
2017 was the year that I got to hear U2 play The Joshua Tree in its entirety at four concerts. To be frank, this wasn’t anywhere near my favorite U2 tour ever, but it was magical to hear “Red Hill Mining Town” live for the first time — a song they’d never played live before this year. And I never thought I’d get to hear songs like “Exit” and “In God’s Country” live again. Every chance to see/hear U2 live is something I cherish.
So that’s it for 2017. I hope you had a fantastic year, and I wish you an even better 2018!
In the past 10 days since news came out of my career changes, I’ve received a number of very kind messages from colleagues in the search industry congratulating me and wishing me best of luck in the future. I’ve appreciated every one of those messages and I’m grateful to know such thoughtful people — thank you all!
Some of the messages, though, have also expressed sadness that I’m “getting out of SEO” or “leaving the search industry” or some such thing.
Thing is … that’s not the case.
Let me set the record straight:
1) I left Third Door Media. That’s all. I’m not necessarily leaving the search industry or getting out of SEO.
2) Re-starting my old SEO consulting practice is very high on my list of career options at the moment.
3) I’m also very open to opportunities with marketing agencies and/or corporate in-house teams.
4) I’d be happy to consider new journalism opportunities at other media outlets, too.
To be clear, if a great opportunity outside the search industry comes along, I’ll certainly give it my utmost consideration. But I haven’t left SEO or the search industry. You guys aren’t getting rid of me that easily. 😉
1.) I’m not going to be offended by the 25-yr-old gal at the pet store today who asked me, “Do you want some help out to your car?” as I was buying a 30-pound bag of dog food. #ageism
2.) I’m also not going to be offended by the woman at the grocery store a couple weeks ago who warned me that the avocados I was buying weren’t quite ripe, because she’s surely smarter than a guy when it comes to buying avocados. #sexism
3.) Likewise, I’m not going to be offended by the female cashier at the grocery store a month or two ago, who decided to educate me about 75% of the items I was buying because surely guys have no idea how to do the grocery shopping. #sexism #womansplaining
Nope. Not gonna be offended. Life’s too short. Just gonna keep smiling and doing my thing. YMMV 🙂
ps –
1.) Fortunately, I can carry 30 pounds of dog food very easily at my current age.
2.) I don’t like avocados, but my wife says no one picks a better avocado than me. Weird, huh?
3.) I’ve been doing the family grocery shopping for the past 10 years at minimum.