There is always an awkwardness in transitions — leaving the known for the unknown, leaving an established rhythm of life as you work to establish a new one. The fresh start lacks definition, but that seems okay because the lack of definition is exciting in all its possibilities. Most transitions are not brand new things. I guess they can be for some people, but for most of us we enter a new frontier of something we have known or experienced already. Not so much an uprooting as a branching from all that has brought us to that point.
On May 3rd, I retired from the banking industry after 35 years of service to three different institutions, each of them fine organizations, imprinted in different ways in the dynamic experience of an industry adapting to deregulation over decades. One, falling victim to a poor M&A play as the fragmented industry experimented with consolidation, another furiously re-balancing its business after bloating its mortgage business for a decade or more prior to the mortgage crisis, and the other working with a clean slate after many lessons learned from an industry trying to navigate its newfound freedom, ultimately rising to #1 market share in the Nashville MSA in less than 20 years.
Inflection points such as these prompt reflection. I have thought of how green I was in every way when I started my banking career, and how experiences and leaders shaped me as a person, mostly in good ways but sometimes not. I have thought of knowledge gained in both study of financial disciplines and iterative risk management practices. Mostly, I reflect on relationships of all kinds, the diversity and warmth of people from all walks of life. Each bank I worked for, in its heyday, demonstrated relational prowess and commitment to its clients that energized me and motivated me to be great for others.
My career leaned in different directions at times, from lender to manager to strategist, from relationships to products to systems, from consumers to small businesses to middle market businesses. My dominant reflection is that my greatest joy has come in serving Small Business owners. I could bore you with statistics of what Small Business means to the US economy, or the value of Small Business franchises to banking organizations. Both are significant — likely much more than you might think. Yet, I refuse to succumb to the idea that only the big things are breathtakingly beautiful. I love Small Business because the passion is highly personal, the desire to serve others is authentic, and the creativity is abundant. I do not mean creativity in an artistic sense necessarily, but in the sense of a sheer desire to bring an idea to life. I know of no other group of business owners where the will to succeed is more unshakeable.
My blog is for those people who have taken the chance to make real what has stirred their hearts.
