Neoteny -- The Excitement of Newness

I rarely think back on the times when I first was in the business world and wasn't of sufficient stature to go to industry trade group events or have my company pay for membership in them. I paid for them myself, they were so important to me, despite the fact that I was making peanuts. I was a little networker even back then. I was excited to go to those lunches and dinners then, an enthusiasm I didn't always have later as they became more obligatory. In fact, I downright dreaded some of them, the very same types of events I was so pumped to attend when the business world was so new to me.

This came to mind this morning when my good professional friend, longtime construction professional Bob Nilsson, sent me a note about the Urban Land Institute (ULI) in Orlando, Florida, inviting to their meetings an inspiring young man, Jason Scott, an Iraq war vet who ended up an amputee at Walter Reed, where you can find Bob two or three days a week, talking to the amputees and their families, making things happen and solving problems behind the scenes. Jason, a Chicago boy who's now enrolled in the MBA program at the University of Florida, is the first recipient of the ULI Second Chance Scholarship founded by Nilsson, an impressive scholarship that pays the difference between what the GI Bill pays for and what the real expenses are as amputee vets go to school. The idea is to encourage these kids (though Jason is now 31, so he's not a kid anymore) (but to me at this point, geez, nearly everybody is a kid) to go into real estate or construction as a career. However, there is no requirement that the recipients commit to any specific career. But if paying for one's expenses isn't encouragement to go into the career where the stipend comes from, I don't know what is. (You can read my story about this in Engineering News-Record [ENR]. Unfortunately, it'll cost you $4.95 unless you're an ENR subscriber.)

So Bob's note brought to mind the whole idea of the excitement of newness. I think that's what ADD is all about, not landing anywhere too long, even mentally.

I remember once when a married professional friend of mine, a loving and faithful husband, had a few too many drinks and propositioned me. I was astonished. I said to him, "We're friends and you are crazy about your wife. Why would you ask me that?" He said, "Because I trust you, I know I'm safe with you, and I just want someone who isn't my wife." I said no, by the way. I was only married once, for all of two years, and I've never, ever experienced that kind of boredom with a partner, but I wonder how longtime married couples keep the excitement in their marriages...or if they just kind of give up on that.

It's tough to keep an attitude of neoteny about life, especially the more mundane or repetitive aspects. Merriam-Webster defines neoteny as "retention of some larval or immature characters in adulthood." But I use it as a consultant for Disney I knew years ago used the term. He defined it as a childlike attitude of wonder and excitement about life.

There aren't a lot of little kids in my life, but occasionally I get to see the world through their eyes as everything is new to them. When I lived in Manhattan, one day I was riding the subway. It was cheek-to-cheek packed, and it was bumpy as the fast-moving express train tore through the tunnel. I was one of the dozens standing, as all of the seats were taken. We were all swaying and jerking as we rode, hanging on tightly to the metal straps or the poles as we rode. The car was quiet, a phenomenon that often happens in New York commuter trains and subway cars, even when they are full. I was just thinking about how uncomfortable this ride was, how I hated having to stand again and how hard it was to stay upright and dignified...when suddenly a little girl holding on to the same pole looked up at her mother and exclaimed excitedly, "Mommy, isn't this fun!?" The mood in the whole car changed from dour and barely tolerant to happy, chatty and light.

The other night, late, the power went off on our block. The lights went out, the tv went dark, the refrigerator went quiet, the neighborhood went still. How long would it last? I wondered. Would my frozen food melt, my milk go warm? Would vandalism start? (Hey, it was late and dark!) In about 15 minutes, everything came back on and guess what wasn't so old-hat anymore. I even had a related burst of appreciation for running water. Ha! But even a day later, I didn't give water or power another thought.

It's all in how you look at it. It's so easy to let things get old for us, including things that used to thrill us. Those are usually the things that, if they were taken away from us, we'd roll over our grandmothers to get back.