Accidental Poignancy

There are those moments when deep feelings about something get unintentionally or accidentally kick-started for us. Whether it's coincidence or a cosmic plan, we stumble across things that lift us up or knock us down or just smack us around a bit. Regardless of which way we are shoved, the moment impacts us, often deeply. I'm referring specifically to highly personal moments, events where we were a central or pivotal character. Maybe it was when you introduced someone to their soul mate and you now feel joy because they're doing so well as a couple, or pain because you really loved that person and lost them as a result of that introduction.

I'm not talking about an event like seeing the name of a person that you went to school with and now see their name in the obituaries and their death has nothing to do with you. I'm talking about things that happened to you and perhaps wouldn't have happened without you. Well, today, May 15, is one of those days for me. Please allow me tell you a short story.

Once upon a time, I owned a magazine. It was a local publication done on newsprint with a small staff and a tiny budget. It took every ounce of energy I possessed and almost all the time I had. It started with an idea and two partners and a major portion of my money. My heart and soul were poured into it and it was special; perhaps more special to me--even more so than my partners--because it was a true part of me. The partners were backers, but not writers or artists or editors or, really, anything journalistic. They were advisors about things they had no experience with and they knew to trust me. It went well.

As often happens in fairy tales--especially anything from Disney (trademark here, of course)--someone's parent died. One partner lost his father (who was only in his early fifties) and that was a crushing blow to him. Due to that and other fallout from the tragedy, he left the business for new and uncharted waters. I was left with a work in progress, a corporate structure in a some disarray and a partner who, without the one we'll call the good partner, was a bit lost as he wasn't particularly bright...at least not in my opinion. (You may agree if you read on.)

I thought it would be okay because the magazine was doing pretty well for a startup and was filling a niche in a novel way. My warm and fuzzy confidence soon ebbed when it became apparent (to me, anyway) that the remaining partner was a lousy businessman and lacking in skills and knowledge to be of much (if any) help to me. Being a confident, independent and hard-working man, I figured I could make it work. In a typical male fashion, I forged ahead steeled by my own determination to make the magazine succeed. I had ample motivation.

You see, there are few folks who realize at the time that they are exactly where they should be. I'm very blessed because I've been there twice: First when I met my wife (to whom I am still blissfully married) and; Second, when I was running the magazine. I knew in my heart that I was there, really there--at the center of my cosmic, karmic universe. In my mind, it had to succeed because the whole of existence was backing me, surrounding me with positive thought and guiding me to my destiny. Wrong.

Let me get to the point here. As you can probably tell, the magazine went down in flames because the partner mismanaged everything in his world and sucked the magazine and me down with him. (I found out later that, had we continued to be partners, I would probably have been the subject of litigation--silver linings, folks, silver linings.) I lost major cash, sleep, weight, self-esteem, etc., until I finally gave myself permission to feel bad for awhile and then to get over it.

So, where does the poignancy come in? It just so happens that today is the twelfth anniversary of the last issue's publication. Yep, the cover says "Volume 1, Number 3, May 15, 1991". I had no idea what day it is and my having a copy in my hand was a bit of a fluke; but, there it is. My heart, soul and mind were completely wrapped up in "my baby" and when it died, a part of me died, too. On the other hand, a new part of me was born and it lives on today. (Again, silver linings.) I'm thankful for the experience, for the opportunity and for the ability to have done it at all. It was an opportunity few folks get. Bitter sweet moment, bitter sweet day. Accidental poignancy. Ain't it grand.