Experience your Everest

While I’ve been on the Earth for more than four decades, sometimes I don’t feel like I’ve lived. I don’t mean I’m an inanimate object floating through time and space. What I mean is that I hear stories of others, I see their photos of trips, I see their keepsakes from foreign countries, and wonder if I’ve ever really “lived!”

A recent career workshop instructor helped me understand that others probably view me with the same thoughts. And if we’re true with ourselves, we are all this way. We are caught in a comparison world where we won’t allow ourselves to accept that we are talented, experienced, traveled, or educated.

No matter where we live, no matter our age, we have experiences that have shaped us into the individuals we are. If we analyze ourselves we’ll find that what shaped us the most was not the distant travels, but our reactions to everyday events.

I just finished my MBA through an executive program at Grand Canyon University. I can’t tell you how scared I was to return to school after being away from the classroom for nearly two decades. I knew I wanted to get a masters and, since business was one area that got me excited, I decided to go for a Masters of Business Administration. Just as a little background, I’m not a math person. Nor was I ever inclined to study accounting or finance.

While I knew I would have to survive these classes in order to get my MBA I was petrified of what was to come. Accounting wasn’t the first class so I had several months to “cut my teeth” before the big one. However, since I was afraid of the basics of textbook education, I started with a lot of trepidation. I crammed very hard at the beginning of each week to make sure I got ahead of the assignments. My fear of falling behind kept me pushing forward. The first week I got my assignments in a few days early and started working on the second week’s readings and research. With that fear of falling behind constantly in the back of my head, I pushed forward. I was never satisfied with waiting for the new assignments to be posted. Mind you, I didn’t view myself as one of those students who excels at everything, who is ahead of the class and knows all the answers. You know the one. The young man or woman who sits up front, who rings in to answers the instructors questions before the question is out. No. I had become this way through fear. The fear of falling behind in a masters program drove me to stay ahead of the crashing wave of deadlines. What I found after the first two classes was that I could do it. And not only could I meet the masters level challenge of coursework, but I could excel at it as well.

But like the mountain in the distance or the roar of the impending waterfall, accounting was coming. No matter what I had done, no matter the success I had enjoyed, accounting was ahead. The fear constantly built to a near paralyzing level. I found the current courses more stressful. Not because of an additional workload. But because I was trying to perform the current studies, research, papers under the umbrella of the doom that crept closer with each day. Friends who had been through the program tried to put me at ease. They told me it started relatively easy. That it built to the middle weeks and then tapered at the end. I don’t think they understood to whom they were speaking. When it comes to math and accounting, a flat road had been a mentally challenging course for me.

Finally, like the long-awaited hike to the base of the mountain, my educational journey dropped me at the foot of that door. What an imposing door. ACC 633. The fact that it started with a “6″ was almost enough to get me to turn around and run for lower ground. But I had made it this far. And while I had become acclimatized to the rigors of masters-level work, and even excelled in it with straight 4.0’s, I had no expectations for a quick sprint to the top of this mountain. That’s what it was. A mountain. IT WAS MY EVEREST! I knew that there was nothing easy. Every step, every week, every page, would hold the potential of a thousand foot plunge into academic-death. I thought about the year before. A time when I would have never imagined being in this place with those courses behind me and that mountain ahead. I thought of all the people who had encouraged me. “You can do it.” “I know you can.” “It’s going to be hard but you can handle it.” And I really wondered how many of them said under their breath: “I think”, “Not really, but I know I have to sound encouraging,” “You’re going to crash and burn.” As for the mountain, I understood there was no easy step. I knew that summiting was only half the challenge. Casualties happened through the entire journey. I was voluntarily making a trip into my personal accounting DEATH-ZONE. And I would need all the tools and assistance in order to survive. Yes, others referred to the middle part as the “hard part.” For me, that too, was just like Everest. Summitting is only half the battle. For me, the descent would be just as tenuous. I knew I had as much, if not more, of a chance of falling victim to that mountain in the final weeks as in the first. No. I knew I would not be able to relax until I was safely back at this point; that mental moment that allows for a hand-off from one class to another. I needed to see my Accounting Everest in the rear-view mirror for me to feel I was on educational solid ground.

Looking back it’s easy to laugh at my trepidation. I charged up that mountain (with great caution) with the same intensity as I had faced my previous classes. Once again, I knew I needed to stay ahead so I wouldn’t be left behind. Assignments were due on Sunday night. In previous classes I was sure to have them done by Thursday or Friday. In ACC-Everest, I pushed myself to have them done by Tuesday or Wednesday. That way I could check with other climbers to make sure I was on the right trail. I could ask guides if they would help me understand the footing. I made it through that first week. I was shocked to see what the instructor thought of my work. Not perfect but well ahead of the curve. I was blessed that the HR director at my work had been an accounting tutor in college. He knew how to guide me without giving me the path. Balance sheets, income statements, cash flows. Lights started to come on when debits and credits balanced out. Week after week I trudged on, afraid to look back for fear of losing my balance or falling behind. The summit never did seem closer. I was so focused on each tiny footstep I wouldn’t allow myself the joy of seeing the progress. Maybe I didn’t want to see the progress for fear of complacency.

I summited that beast: And while I never will be a professional accountant I look back with fond memories. Many times I’ve described my ACC-Everest course like a honeymoon. It was just enough to get the joy out of accounting. Afterall, it can be very rewarding to have everything balance in the end. But it wasn’t so long or so hard as to become drudgery. (No, dear.. I’m not drawing that analogy to our 20+ years of marriage. They have all been a Honeymoon!)

There’s always another mountain to climb. And while no other MBA courses were as severe (to me) they each brought with them a challenge that I never took lightly. Even with successful completion after successful completion behind me, I knew it wasn’t over until that final course. When we gathered in San Diego for our final week of classes, we were a very close group of students. Many times that week I sat back and looked at the faces. Oh, what they must have thought of me during that first meeting a year earlier. Oh, what I thought of them! I told them how scared I was to start the program and that, even on the plane on the way out, I had been trying to figure out if I was really able to start something like this. Meeting them even put more fear in me. They were all so successful in their individual careers and co confident in their personal presentations. I got to know them during the year. I came to realize that I’m not that different. We each have passions, we each have trials, we each have trepidations. We each have each other!

At the closing ceremony, it hit me. My fears of failure may have driven me to succeed and become the recipient of the award for the highest GPA but it was the others, my classmates, professors and instructors, and my friends who were my Sherpas. It’s impossible to climb the mountain without them, but they get little of our personal appreciation or recognition.

We are the culmination of our experiences. I know I’ll have greater mountains to climb but my journey through my MBA and especially over the summit of ACC-Everest, has prepared me to approach each challenge with humility, acknowledging that I need friends and mentors, experts and educators, who will guide me on my journey. I, too, must serve as a Sherpa for others on their personal challenges.