Walt Hampton, J.D.

Creating the Work & Life You LOVE

What He Made Me Do

by Walt | Nov 21, 2024 | Success | 0 Comments

I hated him for it.

For what he made me do.

But it forever changed my life.

We worked together during one of the darkest periods of my life. My work was sucking my soul; my marriage was crumbling; and I was about to become a single dad to my three youngest kids.

I was angry, anxious, sad, depressed.

I needed a therapist.

I found Irv.

One of the most skilled I’d ever met.

Irv would move seamlessly through therapeutic frameworks: cognitive behavioral; psychodynamic; Gestalt. Humanistic therapies. Mindfulness based therapies. Even the Bob Newhart “Just Stop It” therapy.

Whatever worked, Irv used it.

As he was in the later years of his practice, the common framework of a 45 minute hour was a rather fluid one for Irv. Sometimes it might be 45 minutes. Sometimes two hours.

Whatever it took to get the job done.

I’d cry; and sob; and complain; and whine; and yell; and rant.

Irv would hold the space with such compassion and love.

And, as the energies would settle, there would always come that moment.

That moment when Irv would hand me the yellow legal pad and #2 pencil that he kept next to his wingback chair.

And ask me the question, “So what are you going to do now?”

“Write it down,” he’d say.

Because this therapy thing wasn’t about vast and half vast ideas; it wasn’t about bellowing into an empty echo chamber; it wasn’t about navel-gazing.

It wasn’t even about self-understanding per se.

It was about agency. Self-efficacy.

Creating a future. For myself, and for those I loved.

This moment in time that we’re experiencing together is especially challenging.

There’s a lot to cry and sob and complain about.

We need to whine and yell and rant.

To experience the anxiety and the fear and the sadness.

To feel all the feels.

And then…

To ask the question: What will I do now?

Because, there’s a lot to do right now.

Yes. It all feels daunting. Overwhelming even.

You may have no clue where to begin.

Begin wherever your heart draws you to begin.

That cause that you feel passionate about: climate change; immigration; systemic injustice; poverty; affordable housing; trans phobia; racism; food insecurity.

A letter to the editor; an article on Substack; a meeting; a rally; a political action group; an email to your congress person.

Become an activist. Volunteer at a shelter. Raise money.

“We can’t all do great things,” Mother Teresa once said. “But we can all do small things with great love.”

Because whether small or great, action is the antidote to despair and helplessness.

And the key to a brighter future.

Irv is long gone. But he still whispers in my ear.

As I do here in yours.

“So what will you do now?”

Into This Darkness

by Walt | Nov 14, 2024 | Finding The Way | 0 Comments

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

— Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

We’ve turned the clocks back.

The shadows here in New England begin to fall by mid-afternoon.

I’ll rail against it.

Some find the dark cozy and embracing. They relish the long evenings in front of the fire. They embrace the dark.

Me not so much.

I love the Alaska Range in the summer: the long endless days and the midnight sun. I wouldn’t last long there in the winter.

Of course, many folks have taken care of this by moving to places like Southern California, or Belize. And there are many more who embrace the changing seasons with greater equanimity than I.

But the seasons of life change can be another matter altogether.

Most all of us get used to our routines.

Constancy is safe. Secure.

We like predictability.

Anything that disrupts the status quo is, well, disruptive.

We fight change. I do. Yet change is really the only constant. It is the rhythm of things. High tide and low; ’til death do us part, or sooner; daytime and night; in sickness and in health; drought and flood; republicans and democrats; in good times and in bad; generatively and the dark night of the soul.

The legendary Jim Rohn taught so eloquently on the seasons of life: The seasons always come, Rohn said. “You cannot change the seasons but you can change yourself.”

Winters always come. And there are all kinds of them, Rohn said. “There are economic winters, when the financial wolves are at the door; there are physical winters, when our health is shot; there are personal winters when our heart is smashed to pieces.”

Use winter to get stronger, wiser, better. Get ready for the Spring, Rohn said. It always follows winter.

“Opportunity follows difficulty.” Take advantage of the Spring. Till the earth. Plant.

In the Summer, nourish and protect. “Every garden must be defended in the summer,” Rohn taught. The garden of values – social, political, marital commercial- the garden of ideas, the garden of all that is good. Be on watch over your garden in the summer.

Reap what you have sown in the fall. Take responsibility for what you did not sow, for what you did not protect. But celebrate the harvest. “Learn to welcome the fall without apology or complaint,” Rohn said.

Embrace the seasons of our lives. Know them. Use them.

Why do we fight so what is so?

To be with change, to be in its flow; to experience the shifting sands with open hands and open hearts. To have the courage to accept and say: “and this too.” Cherish this challenge. It is all we really have.

The seeds of new life blow on the cold winds of November. Winter will come. But so will Spring. It is the rhythm of things.

To live fully, deeply into each season of our lives: this is what we are called to do.

Every year we have been witness to it: how the world descends

into a rich mash, in order that it may resume. And therefore who would cry out

to the petals on the ground to stay, knowing as we must, how the vivacity of what was is married

to the vitality of what will be? I don’t say it’s easy, but what else will do

if the love one claims to have for the world be true? So let us go on

though the sun be swinging east, and the ponds be cold and black and the sweets of the year be doomed.

— Mary Oliver

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Want some support through a season of change? Let’s talk. Email me: walt@summit-success.com

And stop by for a visit at: https://summit-success.com/

I Want To Notice More

by Walt | Nov 7, 2024 | Success | 2 Comments

I want to notice more.

I want to notice everything around me more.

These are the words that Robin Wright’s character, Edee, uses in the movie Land, Wright’s extraordinary directorial debut.

Edee has suffered a devastating loss and goes to live in a remote mountain cabin to try to reclaim a life.

Her goal: To notice more.

Mine too.

I’m a productivity addict.

I plan everything.

I move at warp speed.

Not a moment wasted.

Meditation: Check.

Journaling: Check.

Aerobics: Check.

Core workout: Check.

Client work: Check.

Marketing: Check.

Date night: Check.

Noticing: Hmm. Not so much.

Noticing the oncoming dawn; the dew in the grass; the sparkles in the snow; the air in my lungs as I run across the land; the smell of the thawing earth; the texture of my food; the lilt in my daughter’s voice when she calls me in the morning; the stars in the sky; the moon on the ocean; the light in my lover’s hair.

All so easy to miss. To blow by.

Because…

Life flies by in a blur.

When you let it.

Unless you stop it.

Intentionally stop it.

And that’s hard. So hard.

When we were in the Himalayas for 3 weeks, we were off the grid. Completely off the grid.

It took herculean effort to pull out of the vortex.

To step away.

From the constant input.

The demands. The responsibilities.

The emails, text messages, notifications, and alerts.

The onslaught of the news.

The dopamine of input.

The siren song of social media.

All of it.

Hardwired. Habitual.

All of it.

Draining.

Draining my energy reserves.

Slowly chipping away at my wellbeing.

Slowly inuring me to real.

Until I saw that I needed to stop.

And so I did.

It wasn’t easy.

I love my work.

I cherish my connections with friends and family.

And… I knew that I needed to rest.

Recreate.

Heal.

So that I wouldn’t crash and burn.

So that I can continue to be ever more present.

So that I can continue to do the work I am called to do.

The Himalayas are the grandest mountain range on earth. Of staggering scale; and breathtaking beauty.

They have the capacity to stop you in your tracks.

Yet, of foreigner travelers, a Tibetan monk once said, “Many people come, looking, looking. No good. Some people come, see. Good.”

For a few precious weeks, I slowed down.

I saw.

I really saw.

Life is so fleeting. I don’t want to miss any of it.

I want to keep seeing.

I want to notice more.

You?

The Danger of White Noise

by Walt | Oct 31, 2024 | Uncategorized | 2 Comments

It’s relentless: the ongoing conflicts in the Middle East, in Ukraine, the worries over North Korea and Taiwan, the uncertainties in the economy, the climate crisis. Oh, and the election.

News alerts, pundits, and the steady hum of social media add to the noise. It’s overwhelming and easy to become numb, to let the onslaught blur together until it becomes just background static, like white noise.

This numbness can feel like a form of protection, a wall to shield us from the barrage. But too often, it becomes a barrier to engagement, keeping us from fully seeing, listening, and thinking critically. In a free and democratic society, this can be dangerous. Democracies don’t thrive when citizens tune out or disconnect. To maintain a healthy society, we need to stay present, stay engaged, keep listening, and keep speaking.

Of course, this doesn’t mean abandoning boundaries or surrendering to every piece of bad news. Creating boundaries is essential to our mental health. If the news becomes too much, take a break. If social media spirals into negativity, limit your time there. Curate your sources carefully; you don’t need every opinion on every issue. But boundaries are not the same as numbness. Numbness takes us out of the conversation entirely.

Remaining present allows us to discern what’s truly important. When we filter out the distractions, we can see the issues that demand our attention, that need our voice, our vote, our participation. Active listening and healthy debate bring clarity, helping us understand complex issues in ways that snap judgments or quick reactions cannot.

At its best, a free society is an active one. This requires resilience: the strength to face difficult realities without becoming overwhelmed by them. It calls for courage: the bravery to stay informed and keep caring, even when the path forward isn’t clear. And it demands responsibility: the commitment to do our part, however small, to sustain the society we’re part of.

So yes, establish healthy boundaries; turn off the noise when you need to. But stay in the conversation. Avoiding the issues doesn’t make them disappear, and as citizens, our engagement is vital. It’s not about keeping up with every update but about discerning what matters most. In the end, it’s not the white noise that shapes the future, but those who remain present within it, who choose to be informed, to care, and to act. And to vote.

Peace to you in these turbulent days.

The Hubris Of The Now

by Walt | Oct 24, 2024 | Success | 5 Comments

In anxious times like these, it’s easy to believe that what we’re facing is unprecedented, that the stakes have never been higher, and that democracy is teetering on the edge. There’s a sense of urgency, a pull to act out of fear. The “Hubris of the Now,” as a colleague calls it, convinces us that our moment is the most exceptional in history—that if we don’t react with alarm, we might lose everything.

But the truth is, we’ve been here before. History shows us that periods of division, crisis, and uncertainty are not new. From civil rights struggles to wars and political upheavals, each generation has faced moments that felt like the tipping point. And yet, we’ve continued, stumbling and progressing, but moving forward nonetheless. This isn’t to minimize the challenges we face; it’s simply to offer perspective.

Feeling the weight of the moment is normal. Fear is a natural response. But it’s important to recognize that fear, when unchecked, can distort reality. It can make us believe that everything hangs in the balance and that any misstep is irreversible. It can cloud our judgment and close us off from dialogue and connection, pushing us further into isolated corners where anger and mistrust fester.

Trusting our institutions, flawed as they may be, is part of what keeps democracy resilient. The systems in place—elections, courts, laws—have withstood tests before. They are not perfect, and they require our vigilance, but they are not as fragile as fear makes them seem. Engaging thoughtfully, rather than reacting out of panic, allows us to see opportunities for action and collaboration, even when it feels like things are falling apart.

It’s okay to feel the discomfort, to acknowledge the fear, but it’s equally important not to lose perspective. The Hubris of the Now can lure us into thinking that this is the end, that this time it’s different. But history, for all its repetition of crisis, also shows resilience, recovery, and renewal. Holding onto that truth allows us to navigate these turbulent waters with steadiness, rather than being swept away by the storm.

Pema Chödrön writes, “Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us.”

Feel all the feels. But know that you – and all of us – are stronger than you may think.