The Importance of Honoring Customs while Abroad

My journey back to Amman was rather uneventful which is not necessarily a bad thing. I listened to an audiobook, glanced over my Italian flashcards, and occasionally took in snippets of the conversation of the couple sitting across from me.

As I peeked out the window I couldn’t help but take in the barrenness of most of the Jordanian countryside. On the upside, it made me feel less guilty that I dosed off.

I thought back on my four journeys across the United States with my best friends en route to Syracuse when I was still in college. Driving for hours on end could sometimes be monotonous but at least we had each other.

Occasionally though we’d zip past signs for the “30-foot cow” and “5-legged horse,” which intrigued us but didn’t pique our interest enough to stop.

I wondered what it’d be like to take the same trip today; how the tone of our thoughts would be different and our feelings about what lie ahead hued with the life experience gained from the path already trekked.

Dog Days of Summer

I returned to a much “cooler” Amman. “Cooler” is relative in this case, but I was grateful for the relief. It was like bartering an Egyptian summer for the lazy months of D.C., or Philly. It may not sound like much but I was grateful for 95 degree heat over say, 105 degree heat.

I walked the streets the same way I had a week before trying to remind myself of my good fortune to be in such a place. It’s a greater challenge than one may think at first. The more you live the greater the likelihood to take things, even wonderful things, in passing.

The trick I’ve discovered is to stay in the pocket of hope, of possibility, of curiosity. Each day I tried to act as if I’d just arrived before nearly wondering out loud why I couldn’t do the same at home.

I walked past an art gallery I’d noticed when I first arrived but this time it was open. I strolled in and was greeted by a young and pretty Jordanian woman in her mid to late 20’s.

She asked if she could help me find anything to which I told her I was just looking. I inquired if any of the photographs or acrylic works were hers.

“No,” she said. “I’m a law student.”

Much better idea, I nearly said to her.

No Eating on the Street

I slowly moseyed on back to my hotel before stopping off at one of the few restaurants open. I’d been trying my best to eat healthy during my stay, but found it a challenge.

I figured the fresh squeezed carrot juice and lack of eating in general left me at about even. I ordered two sandwiches and made my way back to the Bonita Inn.

When I got to within 100 yards of my hotel I was stopped by two police officers.

“Do you speak Arabic?” they asked.

That’s a first, I thought.

“No,” I said.

They then asked for my ID making some grumblings about my New York City address.

“You can’t eat on the street. It is Ramadan,” one told me.

The other then proceeded to get out of the car and stand beside me. He made a point to brush my shoulder, which gave way to a small shove.

“Hide it in your bag,” he said before letting me go.

I waived him off conveying I understood. I could now add Jordan to the list of countries where I’d piqued the interest of the authorities along with Italy, Israel, and New Zealand.

Perhaps I just thought they could have handled the situation with a bit more grace though I’m not sure how exactly.

Learning and Honoring Customs Abroad

On the way back to my hotel I reminded myself of the importance of respecting the customs and culture of every country I visit and how that reverence should extend to every foreign place, whether it be a mosque, a colleague’s home, or new job.

I was, whether I liked it or not, a sort of ambassador — a representative of my country. It was my responsibility to act with a heightened sense of respect and, equally important, a desire to know how to properly honor the time honored ways of a part of the world I was less versed in.

Another Life

The following day, I hopped in a cab at 6:00 am. Mahmoud was the name of the gentlemen who drove me. He was probably about 70 years old and was kind when he insisted I sit in the front.

We didn’t say much during the 25-minute drive but I felt comfortable in his presence. The impeccably clean Toyota Camry with leather seats and remnants of cigarette smoke took me back to sitting in the back of my uncle’s car during summer visits to Korea.

Mahmoud too might have been an uncle from another life.

We passed security after I was asked where I was from.

“New York,” I said.

“Oh!” he beamed. And waved me through.

I’d knew I’d miss that proclamation when I returned to my native California. Something told me it wouldn’t inspire the same reverence, or open as many doors for that matter.

Moments later, Mahmoud dropped me off and wished me good luck on my journey.

I waved goodbye and made my way hoping I was somehow a better, if not, slightly wiser man for my time in this country.

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How Your Hustle Can Hurt You

Today, there is a prevailing theme of “hustle” being promoted in our culture. Social media is flooded with words like “grind,” and “crushing it.” As a young drama student, I’d arrive at the theater each morning at 5:30 am. For 10 blocks I’d pound my chest with clenched fists roaring, “Come on! You either want it or you don’t!” I was convinced with my dogged determination and work ethic it would only be a matter of time before I took Broadway by storm. And though there’s no substitute for a focused commitment towards our goals, I soon learned if we’re not clear on what we’re working to achieve, all the hustle in the world won’t mean a thing.

The trouble is, the grind is alluring. There’s nothing quite like the satisfaction you get from plopping down on the couch after a long day knowing you gave it everything you had. For years, nothing gave me greater joy than being the first to sign my name on the check-in sheet at Shapiro Theater. I made certain my name was written in big easy to read letters. I’d stake my claim before tiptoeing past a sleeping guard to avoid an argument, of which there were many. “Why do you need to be here so early?!” they’d ask. “I have work to do,” I’d say. But years later I overlooked the need to take personal inventory, making sure what I was working towards was still aligned with my core beliefs. I spent years bulldozing my way to a dream I once had in the hopes my old values would somehow be resuscitated back to life. I kept hustling because I was too scared to admit I no longer knew what I wanted.

A good hustle is admirable but it doesn’t always guarantee success. Like acting, entrepreneurship is such a fiercely competitive world if your vision and sense of purpose doesn’t have chest thumping clarity your grind won’t be sustainable. Over the years, I appeared on major television shows, booked commercials, performed in big regional theaters, and acted with theater gods as a Broadway casting reader. I was slowly making progress but I’d also lost a little bounce in my step. I longed for my school days and the sense of purpose I felt while training on the 16th floor of Riverside Church. And like that view of the Hudson, my dreams felt within reach but yet so far away.

By the time I’d hit my mid-30s something wasn’t sitting right. I could no longer just bury myself in the day-to-day grind and deny I’d lost my “why,” and perhaps a little of myself along the way. I was pushing really hard on a door that read, “Pull” to get into a building I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be in anymore. My goals had changed because I had. My heart somehow knew it was being duped.

In my 12-year journey as an actor I discovered there are many rewards awaiting those who hustle, but clarity of purpose is not one of them. Blindly applying brute force may move you forward, but what good is it if you don’t know where you are, or why you’re there? Your vision must precede the grind. No amount of discipline or work ethic will persist unless your “why” stirs the ”how.”

But how does one quietly follow their “why,” while navigating through the deafening culture of hustle? First, you can choose to “flow” rather than “muscle” your way to the top. Consider a stream racing through a valley and how it never flattens the boulder in its way. Instead, it moves seamlessly above, around, or below its obstacle while still reaching its destination. There is still great momentum and effort being expended but in a way that incorporates that resistance as an integral part of the journey.

Second, the act of striving should be intentional. We can be fiercely honest with ourselves having the courage to question why we do what we do. With clarity comes an awakening to our potential and our actions have a remarkable way of organizing around our defined purpose.

Finally, “the hustle” can be inclusive. Instead of looking at people as problems we can look at them as opportunities to build community. The most fulfilling part of working towards any meaningful endeavor is through the transformational relationships we forge. When we lift each other up rather than leave them behind, attainment of our goals becomes about creating impact instead of self-importance.

So grind away my friends. Wake up at that ungodly hour, bid happy hour farewell, and tell Frank Underwood he’ll have to wait. You’ve got work to do. Just make sure you’re pushing on a door to get into the right building.

3 Reasons Why It's Never Too Late to Begin Meaningful Work

Today our culture has a very complicated relationship with time. There never seems to be enough of it. Additionally, we've almost arbitrarily decided that our goals must be attained by a certain timeline. When we fail to make the Forbes 30 Under 30 List we abandon them completely. But living a more responsible life doesn't mean living a small life. Here are 3 reasons why it's never too late to start work that matters:

1. Understanding that you have less time. Less time to strive means less time for frivolous work. If something isn't helping your grow, forge meaningful relationships, or personally fulfilling it's a good time to part ways.

2. Patience. "Hurry up and wait," was an expression I heard thrown around when I was a young actor. Young people often want something so bad they're willing to sidestep the journey. But as you get older in life you start to appreciate the value of the "long-game," and the importance of staying ready. Nothing worth attaining happens quickly. Getting older awakens you to that reality and even helps you appreciate it.

3. A smarter kind of hustle. Today there is undoubtedly a culture of "no days off" being heavily promoted. But working hard means nothing if you don't work smart. And working smart means taking time for self-care and realizing there are more important things in life than professional achievements. Becoming more is ultimately more important that achieving more. 

Kindness Matters

Years ago, I walked into a card store a few block from my apartment in Manhattan. The woman working behind the desk was personable and we struck up a conversation as I paid for a birthday card I was picking up for a friend. "You're so polite," she said. "I need you to hang around my kids." 

Not long before a store clerk up the street said more or less the same thing offering me a complimentary kit bag before I made my way out the store. "Why?" I asked. "Because you said please and thank you."

The fact that both incidents happened in New York City may imply more about the makeup of this fast-paced community, but I think the broader point is being kind really matters.

During my last few weeks in Central America I've seen people go above and beyond for me simply because I've taken the time to really listen and take an active interest in their lives. I've asked questions, tried to speak less, and praised them for their hospitality. I made new friends, learned a great deal about a culture I knew little to nothing about, and in the process deepened my understanding of what it means to be human.

So be kind whenever possible. Not because of what you’ll gain but because of who you’ll become. 

Become a Quitter

There's a huge stigma in our culture about quitting. Countless films, inspirational quotes, and stories promote the narrative that the only people who succeed in life are those with the dogged determination to stick with something at any cost. But what if striving for something no longer make sense?

The truth is not quitting can actually be a greater detriment to you in the long run depending on what it is. Toxic relationships, a job you hate, and goals that no longer resonate with you should not be prolonged. It's also important to take inventory of our approach to work and relationships to see if what we're doing is working. If it's not then what's the sense in continuing? Why not find a better way?

Another form of quitting is learning to delegate tasks that need to get done by asking or paying someone else to do them. That way you have more time to focus on what you do best. Learning to let go and admit to yourself that other people are equally skilled takes courage and humility.

Look for what you should quit in your life and fight like hell for what actually is important to you. You probably already know the difference. It's just about taking the next step.