Assertive

My Grandma Hancock once told me a story about chocolate cake. According to my memory of the story, when she was a little girl one of her friend’s mothers offered her a piece of cake. Now did little Lynette want a piece of that big scrumptious cake? Of course she did! But in an effort to perhaps not sound rude, or not appear overzealous to inherit the prize, little Lynette replied, “I don’t care.” To which the friend’s mother responded, “you don’t care, I don’t care”, and put the cake away.

I remember Grandma telling us this story in an effort to teach us assertiveness. Another figure in my life who is assertive is my mother. If the price comes up wrong on the register, if there’s a deal to be had, or something that she fairly wants becomes available, then she is not afraid to speak up and get it. Assertiveness is a beautiful gift.

A phrase that has governed my life is, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take”. It’s so true! In most every venture, you’re going to be worse off if you never try. Every time you ask out a girl, every time you apply for a scholarship, every time you try out for a part, every time you ask for that last slice of pizza, every time you would prefer to do one thing over another, IT’S WORTH A SHOT! Because in not taking the shot you are guaranteed failure. What are you afraid of? Failure itself? Embarrassment? Who cares! Get over your pride and start living the way you want to and start going for the things that are going to help you and others out the most.

Now I’m not saying be aggressive and mean and step in people’s toes in an angry rage all the time. Assertive people are kind, polite, giving, and often the most successful people in the world. Think about it. Do you think that any president, effective world leader, or general got to where they are by passively “accepting their lot”? No way! Do you think they stepped on toes and stormed to their position? No way! They are assertive people.

So next time you see a pretty girl, go ask her on a date. Do what you want to do. Next time your friend offers you to stick around for lunch, then stick around! Of course you’d like a free lunch. They just offered it to you. They’ll probably enjoy serving it to you anyways.

Go get ‘em.

Confessions of a Gamer

Today I heard a sad confession from a co-worker. He’s been my hotel roommate for about a week now. He’s a really nice kid. Grew up in Provo, Utah, to a good family and he has a lot of great things going for him. But he has an addiction…

It was one of the saddest things I have ever heard. He’s not addicted to drugs. He’s not addicted to pornography. He’s not even addicted to alcohol or smoking. He’s addicted to gaming.

Every spare moment that he’s not at work he is on his computer playing in an alternate universe. His friends are online, his joys are online, his life is online. He explained to me that he lives two separate lives (in the real world and in the gaming world) and he likes his gaming world life better. And so it is the gaming world where he prefers to live for most of the day and night. It’s his shelter, it’s easier than real life, and he finds fleeting pleasures there, just like other addictions can bring.

Today he told me about how he hasn’t finished college because gaming pulls him away. He told me about his lowered confidence and fear of dating and marriage because of his lack of social interaction. He’s in his upper 20’s and he feels like he lost his chance for a regular job, a mission, a marriage because of gaming. He’s given up. It is a true tragedy.

I’ve been trying to help him in the past few days and I’m going to get him out on a date, out to church, and out into the real world. With the gospel of Jesus Christ it’s not too late for him to come back.

But this experience with my hotel roommate, who is seriously an awesome person and quickly becoming a good friend, has opened up a new avenue of thought for me concerning addictions.

When we think addictions we think of big, bad things like the above mentioned drugs and porn and yadayada. But what addictions, be it small or large, are preventing you or me from living our life fully? Is there a card game? A soda we’ve got to have every day? A TV show? Addictions are scary, tragic, and life-ruining.

So ask yourself today if you are in control of your life, and if the answer is no then get on your knees, and then get to work to make the most of every single day!

Travis Vankempen? Travis Nelson? Travis Tullis?

I am a Hancock. I always have been. It’s part of my identity. But when I got to thinking about it, I’m a lot of other things too.

My family and extended family KNOWS their family history. We can trace a line all the way back to Adam (Not even kidding). The other day I realized that the only thing that labels me a “Hancock” is the fact that the parents and grandparents in that line were all males, and therefore passed down that specific name. Having the name of Hancock leads to all kinds of questions like, “So are you related to John Hancock?”, or “I knew some Hancocks once. Do you know….”, or “Wow there’s a movie named “Hancock””, or whatever. All because that specific line was all males. I love being a Hancock and being labeled as such. But once I took to analyzing my 16 great-great-grandparents I realized that I’m just as much one of them, as I am a Hancock.

Say, in a hypothetical world (and some people choose to do this) that the maiden name was passed down one generation. Well then I’d be Travis Richardson. What if the maiden name of my dad’s mom was passed down? Travis Wolthius. Or the maiden name two generations. I’d be Travis Flake. You get the idea, but say you threw the 16 names of my great great grandparents in a bowl and picked one out. I could be named Travis Vankempen, Travis Nelson, Travis Stratton, Travis Tullis (nice ring to it!), Travis Kartchner, Travis Smith, Travis Veldhuis (how sweet would that be!), Travis Jansen, Travis Mortenson, Travis Adams (which was the names of one of my mission friends), Travis Leavitt, or Travis Hardy (like the Hardy Boys!).

That blows my mind! All of those names look so strange connected with my first name, simply because I’ve always been and always will be Travis Hancock. I’ve met many an Adams or Smith or Nelson but I or them never even think to look for common relatives, because I am a “Hancock”. I bet you less than 2% of people in the world know the names of their 16 great-greats, let alone relate to and realize that they are just as much their paternal great-great grandma as they are their maternal great-great grandpa.

It makes me wonder. If you lined up my 16 great-great grandparents--- whose genes have all mixed together in one way or another to make the person I am physically, mentally, spiritually, etc..--- I wonder which one I am most like. Kartchner? Jansen? Leavitt?

What’s in a name? A lot. But it’s important, and rather fun, to think about who you’re really made up of and what your name could be if society’s naming system was tweaked just a little bit.

Rhymes with Computer

During the past month, and for the first time in my life, I have been a commuter.

Everyday would begin and end with an hour-long drive to or from my destination in order to work. From this ordeal I learned two things:

1. It's important to me to live close to where I end up working

2. Once again, there's a whole new type of person that I can relate to better: commuters.

There are a few things that eat at me and it's just hard for me to work around. Gas money and time are two of them. I understand that it'd be nice to not live right in the city and have a slightly bigger house or pay a little less for it, but in the end I just couldn't do it. Two hours per day of driving and filling up a tank of gas twice a week just don't fly with me.

Today we were back in Anchorage working. The day seemed twice as long, stress was low, and I accomplished loads more! It's good to be home!

I'm grateful for the chance I had to learn from and observe the life of those millions of people who travel far to get to work everyday. Theirs is a different life. Theirs is the life of a commuter.