Wednesday, March 28, 2007

The Bracket of Life



What would your life look like if you laid it out in a tournament-style bracket?

Yes, the thought was inspired by March Madness – and The Enlighted Bracketologist. (Brilliant idea.)

But it was truly sparked by a recent breakfast discussion, talking about success. Specifically, financial success. Who is rich? Moreover, why? Did they become millionaires because they are brilliant and shrewd visionaries? Or is it a case of timing and dumb luck? Whatever. They were in the right place at the right time. Said another way, they made a series of decisions that put them in the path of a financial windfall, whether or not they knew that would be the ultimate result of that decision.

Money doesn’t have to the yardstick here. Could be contentment. Happiness. Just happened to be the focus of our discussion.

Which got me to thinking about the decisions we encounter in life.

And that if you were to lay out your life in a linear, chronological format, you’d chronicle thousands, maybe millions of decision nodes.

You’d certainly show the major decisions – like who to marry, who to work for, where to live, what college, church, associations to belong to (or not). To the degree they’ve impacted your life, those minor decisions might also be chronicled: where to have lunch, what movie to see, what book should I read. (Not sure paper or plastic qualifies.)

Regardless, these nodes visually remind me of a tournament bracket.

Of course, the bracket analogy doesn’t totally work, for a few reasons like these:

1. If money is the determining factor, not everybody starts out in life at the same point. You don’t get to choose the socio-economic bracket you're born into.
2. The tournament bracket pits winners against each other while banishing the losers. It's a a zero-sum proposition. Our life is a bit more complex. Here, the winners and losers define who we are.
3. The tournament bracket suggests two choices. Life’s decisions aren’t so black and white, offering multiple options.
4. In life, you have more control over the outcome. The tournament/sports example limits your involvement as a detached spectator. (Unless your name happens to be Pete Rose.)
5. Nobody organizes an office pool around your life.

But as I sit here, disenchanted and discontent with my lot in life on this particular day, I reflect on the choices that landed me in this place. At this time. Somehow I can hear David Byrne wailing, “How did I get here?”

Reviewing my life and its decisions, bracket-style, provides some clarity.

Because as I review this imaginary, massive bracket, I see similarities between those life decisions – both major and minor – and how I picked my unimpressive bracket for this year’s NCAA tournament. Sketchy knowledge. Scant research. Precious little understanding. Didn’t consult the experts. Did a few of the picks just to be different. (If I would’ve picked, say, North Carolina because I thought it would make others happy, that would really have made this analogy sing.)

Guess I’m just glad life’s bracket isn't a single-elimination tournament. For now, you can find me fighting to stay relevant and alive somewhere deep in the NIT-like consolation round.

1 comment:

Kris Oliver said...

I hear you, brother. I frequently find myself wondering, as Jack Nicholson did in that movie of the same name, if this is "as good as it gets?"

What if wealth were distributed based on merit? Merit based on what - intelligence, contributions to society, love for others, knowledge of Gilligan's Island plotlines? Now that's a reward system I could get behind...

So easy to focus the blame for our discontent outward - toward those for whom life seems so effortless. With age comes the painful realization that the problem lies within. If I were granted everything I envy, would I be happier? I think not (although I'd like to try).

I believe what I just said. I really do. I believe what Dallas Willard says about our lives - that each of them is a gift from God and that we are all precisely where we are to achieve some great good for the kingdom. I also know that this belief resides in a portion of my brain with a very weak signal; it is easily drowned out by the static and noise of life.

And I find myself at the knobs again, trying anything to tune it in...