Do you know those Russian nesting dolls?

You know, the ones that open up to the biggest doll, and then you find another one inside, and then another, and then another.

You have to have seen them, I'm sure.

Many years ago, when I was performing in Russia, I found a set and recently came across them the other day. As I kept opening each doll,

getting smaller and smaller and smaller, I had a really interesting thought. We're kind of like

these dolls, aren't we? On the outside, we've painted ourselves with bright colors,

but instead of paint, it's been our achievements, your titles, our roles, the promotion we just

got, or the marathon that we just ran, or that perfect parent that we try to be. These things become our

showpiece, what we present to the world. What happens when we start opening up those layers,

one at a time. What's at the very center? And that tiny, solid doll that can't be opened anymore.

The other day I was speaking with someone that I know and loved dearly,

and someone who had achieved more than most could imagine.

They had the certifications, they had the awards, the accolades, everyone knew who they were, the kind of success that a lot of people just dream of.

But what struck me the most was that they walked away from it all. Not because he failed,

not because they had no more to give, but because they realized the most viable thing in their

life wasn't in the titles. It wasn't in the admiration or being recognized. It was in the

time spent with their family.

And really, it made me wonder how much of who we are is tangled up in what we do.

I mean, if the applause stopped tomorrow, who would we be?

And would we still even recognize ourselves?

Well, let's find out. I'm Chad Lawson and let's comment down in three, two, one.

From the time that we are young, we are given labels.

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