Author: Ricardo

Tonight, we had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner.  Grapes, too.  And there was a spinach salad with almonds and carrots to start things out.  It was a good meal.  My sons made it.  My wife set them to task, walked out the door, and joined me outside as I toiled in the yard.

My boys went about their work.

When it was ready, they let us know.  We all sat down as a family, and we ate our sandwiches.  My oldest asked multiple times if the sandwich was satisfactory.  He had this sheepish grin on his face.  My little guy made the salads.  He was mildly interested in whether or not we liked our salad, but he was more interested in his PB&J.  

Before our meal, we thanked our boys for the wonderful dinner they made.  After, we thanked them again.  It was obvious my boys felt good about the meal they created.

Therein lies the life lesson: do your work…your unique work in your unique way, and be proud of it.

When I was in the yard, I spent half my time cleaning up the mess left behind by the workers who replaces my roof and siding.  They finished about two weeks ago.  We’re still finding nails, pins, and staples everywhere.  Scrap siding, too.  And shingles.  They tore up my flower beds, destroyed a dwarf Korean lilac, and damaged my vegetable garden.  It’s obvious to me that the men who came to work their butts off at my house cared little for the actual work they were doing.  No art in their work.  It was unconscious, mechanical work.  They got it done quickly, but some times speed isn’t everything.  I don’t think they put much pride into their task.

It shows.  Two weeks later, it shows.

I think intrinsic motivation is important.  I think being motivated to do the best work possible is important, too.  And I think having pride in the output of your work is really important.  I think my boys get that, at least as well as they can at their respective ages.  I will do my part to ensure they sustain that.  Perhaps some day, someone will be telling a story about the fantastic work my boys did and how their joy and obvious pride in what they do make them worth every penny.  And perhaps they’ll be talking about their wonderful peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Do you ever set down a path then realize that you’ve gone too far too fast?  

Yeah…me, too.  Happened right now, as a matter of fact.

There’s a fine line between pushing yourself to your limit in an effort to extend that limit just a tad and pushing yourself somewhere you have no business being pushed.  It’s like lifting weights until it hurts, then doing it some more.  Like I read somewhere once, it’s those last few minutes when the burn is worse and the desire to quit greatest that muscle is actually built.  I’m not the guy who does that whole “burn” thing.  I guess I miss out on the greatest benefit.

But that’s not the point.  The point is that going far fast can be OK.  But you can also get yourself to a place that is just beyond your capabilities, even if just temporarily.  I remember climbing up a small shed when I was about 7 years old.  It was made of brick, and it seemed like a tower to the sky at the time.  The wall went straight up.  There was no easy way to go about getting to the top.  This would take balance, strong fingers, and all the right crevasses in all the right places.  A slip would have been painful.  I climbed anyway.  It was a tough climb, but I made it.  

Unfortunately, I made it.  

“Making it” meant I was at the top of this little building with no way down.  I failed to take into consideration that fact that the wall that went straight up also went straight down.  That final surge of strength I needed to hoist my legs over the top?  Yeah, not so easy to do in reverse while positioning my feet just so to ensure proper footing.  I was in trouble.

Too far too fast.

There was no way down.  My friends started laughing at me.  Then, the bell rang.  Recess was over.  Everyone ran back to the door to line up to get back into the building.  If I didn’t do something soon, I’d be left outside.  They’d lock the doors.  I’d be late.  Being late sucked.  I didn’t want to know what would happen to me.  I panicked.  Then I jumped.

You might survive going too far too fast, but it isn’t always pretty.  The alternative is to slow down a bit, regain your composure, recognize that you’re not ready to jump, and figure out a different way down.

The question: “What advice do you have for people who just check out?” 

The best answer: Die.  

Not German for “the,” but “die” as in “cease to exist.”

There are times when this seems to be the only option.  Perhaps it is more accurate to say that there are times when this seems to be the only option people allow for themselves.

The act of dying is complex.  It comes in many forms.  It is most often hidden from view.  Death in disguise…this is a very sad thing.  Sad yet…we see it so often, don’t we?  We know plenty of people who choose this path of death, who disguise their suicide.  They simply give up.

A man sat behind me the other day and asked another man at the front of the room, “What advice do you have for people who just check out?”  At a time of uncertainty, this is a question on the minds of many people.  The world of work is changing.  Conventional, 20th Century ideas of what it means to have a job and a career…well, these things are illusions that have been exposed for the heat-induced, delusional mirages that they are.  The world of work is changing, and we need to open our eyes to that reality.  

Cyclical?  Sure; there is a cycle of economic expansion and contraction.  But this cycle…it exposes the illusion, the lie.  This cycle drags the lie out of the shadows and into the light.  We can see it now.  Your choice, then, is simple: close your eyes to the lie until it can retreat back into the darkness or choose action based on your newly-acquired knowledge.

I like action.

Nobody will do more for you or your career in this or any other century than you will…or can.  Own your path.  It belongs to you.  When you hand the leash over to someone else, you wind up following them down a path of their choosing.  So, make that decision consciously.

But that’s not why I would give “die” as the answer to the question regarding those who check out.  No, for those who choose to check out, I say that you are choosing to die.  You see, checking out is the opposite of living, of choosing Life.  And the opposite of Life is Death.  Dying.  Die.

You see?  If you’re going to check out, then my advice to you is to do die.  Not literally, but close enough.  If you choose to just check out, to just show up, to just receive that paycheck, to just go through the motions like some sort of literal working stiff, a zombie, then you are giving in to the giving up.  If you’re going to do it, then commit.  Do it well.  Knock the cover off the ball.  Exceed. 

Lay. Down. And. Die.

Or don’t.  And if you don’t…then commit.  Do it well.  Knock the cover off the ball.  Exceed.

STAND. THE. FUCK. UP. AND. LIVE.

That’s what I think.

At the risk of sounding repetitive, today my mind keeps wandering back to the topic of “choice.”

 I like talking about choices.  I do it with my kids all the time.  They learn choice and consequence.  That relationship is one of the most valuable things I can teach them.  Likewise, at work, I tend to do the same thing; I’m either talking about choice or pointing out consequences to the people with whom I work.  I hope I don’t come across as a pompous sort of dude.  I just think that it often helps to have an outside observer making links between things because we can get a little too close to a situation to really look at it objectively.  We’ve all been there.  I try to offer a different perspective.

 So, here is my perspective on choice in the workplace.  Life is the sum of choices.  We observe and live through crazy things at work.  Sometimes, they are cool.  Sometimes, they turn our stomachs.  Always, they represent opportunities for us to choose.  Nobody should have to live a life that forces them to compromise who they are.  So, don’t compromise.  Instead, study each situation, gather your facts, and then match what you’ve learned against what you believe.  At that point, choose. 

 Choose to stay or choose to leave.  Never, ever choose to settle.  You do no good to anyone…to me, to yourself, to your teammates, to your fellow human beings…if you compromise, settle, and warm a seat. Instead, commit.  Commit to this or that, but commit. 

And, as I like to say, then go and be awesome.

Maybe I haven’t been making myself very clear: you are a complete human being.  You are whole.  All the time.  There are no exceptions.  If you break up with a boyfriend, you’re whole.  If you lose a loved one to cancer, you are whole.  If your boss calls you into a meeting room with someone from HR…afterwards, you’re whole.  Even if you wither away under the curse of cancer, you are whole.

You are whole because the entirety of who you are is composed of every moment, every event, every breath you’ve taken in your lifetime.  You are everything that has happened to you, everything that is happening, and the unspoiled potential of everything that can happen.  You are your unique, luminous place in the Universe.  You are, as I said, whole.

Yes, you.  I am talking to you.

And you.

You, too.

But not him.  Kidding; him, too.

Nobody should have to suffer the indignity of having to live their life as if they were someone other than who they long to be.  Nobody should have to suffer the humiliation of having to compromise their core values just to make a living.  Nobody should have to kill themselves a little each day just to stay alive.

I sincerely hope that you don’t find yourself in this position.  If you do…I can only wish for you the strength and courage you’ll need to claim your right to be who you are.  That way, you’ll recognize yourself for what you truly are: complete.

Mr. Phelps got me thinking: it’s pretty damn hard to redefine yourself after you’ve gotten so used to defining yourself a certain way.  Mr. Phelps woke up one day, and some pretty important things about his life had changed.  Poof.  Just like that: different.

What I heard from Mr. Phelps was a sincere and profound question: now what?  No kidding, brother.  No what?

See, I’m just like Mr. Phelps; I woke up one day, and some pretty important things about my life had changed.  It was pretty disconcerting.  So, I went about my life, just like I did the day before, came home, had dinner, showered, went to bed, and let the whole thing start all over again.  Then I did that the next day.  And the next.  And the next.  Lather.  Rinse.  Repeat.

Do you know what happened?

Abso-honkin’-lutely nothing, that’s what.  Nada.  Zilch.  Nothing happened.  It went on and on and on.

One day, I woke up and things were really different, honestly different.  I woke up and realized that I’d had enough.  No more zombie.  I couldn’t do it any more.  So, instead, I became miserable.  I was conscious but not conscious, you know?  It’s like I was aware of something uncomfortable on my chair but unwilling to stand up to do anything about it.

Now, I’m doing.  I’m doing, yet I’m still dragging my ass around wearing a frown and feeling sorry for myself.  I got caught in another damn rut.  Actually, it was more like…a trench…yeah, like a trench between two hills on a battlefield.  I got stuck between the charge down one hill and the charge up the next.  It was like…oh, I don’t know…maybe a DIP, Seth?  Something like that?

Yeah, well, tonight, my son told me he was worried about me because I’ve seemed so grumpy lately.  Worse, he’s afraid for me because I’ve seemed “so sad or something for a really long time.”  Yes, son.  You’re father isn’t entirely satisfied with himself right now.  There’s no question about that.  But, do you know what I told my boy?  I promised him that I was honestly, truly working on things right now to change that.  I promised him, PROMISED HIM, that I will create a way out of the dip and up into something different.

“Do you promise, Dad?” he asked.

“I promise.”

So, Mr. Phelps, tomorrow is a new day just waiting for you to define yourself however you choose.  Be bold, my friend; have courage.  You who you are meant to be.  You aren’t a different man than you were yesterday, not yet at least.  But…you can be.  Just think of all the space you have in your life now to write a completely new and different tune.  Go for it.  I hope I get to hear about it.

Sometimes, when you hold someone in high esteem, you might be a little nervous about meeting them.  You get nervous because you wonder, “Are they going to be cool?  Or are they going to be a big jerk?”  That’s not a question that we necessarily want answered, right?  Better to live with the doubt than have your image of that person tarnished.

My wife had that experience once.  She really liked this author and bought into what he was writing about.  Then she met him, and he was kind of standoffish.  As a well-known author, you probably get a lot of people trying to be your best pal, so I assume you get a little guarded with strangers.  You never know who’s going to ask for a handout or just be plain weird.  My wife was understanding, of course, but she was also a little bummed.  He wasn’t a big jerk or anything.  He just didn’t take the opportunity to engage.  And she was a volunteer at the event and everything.  

Well, I’m just a volunteer, too.  So…thank you, Seth, for not being a big jerk.  I appreciate your generosity and your authenticity.  

Today is one of those days during which I feel that I can take on the world.

I have the edge!

http://chart.apis.google.com/chart?cht=p3&chd=t:60,40&chs=250×100&chl=Ricardo|World

Change starts with a small group of people who are willing to go out on a limb to show others that their small, impossible idea will work.

Kerosene lamps kill and disfigure thousands of people in the developing world.  Kerosene is cheap in the short run, it is available, and it is proven.  It provides light at night.  The risk, although substantial, is accepted. 

Solar lamps do not kill or disfigure.  They are more expensive in the short run, they are not readily available, and, in the eyes of the “new” market in the developing world, they are unproven.  Why would you spend a significant portion of your resource, in this case income, on something that is unproven?  When every penny is worth an ounce of food, the incentive to risk is low.

D.Light and SociaLite are companies that provide solar lamps to people living in poverty in the developing world.  Wherever they introduce their product, they face an uphill climb.  They have to unseat the incumbent, kerosene, with a new, unproven and even magical solution that supposedly provides reliable light at night from the sun.  That’s quite a hurdle to overcome. 

But they do overcome it.  And when they do, something happens.  People begin to see how spending money today can save them money tomorrow.  By investing in solar lamps, a person can have light well into the night, and they can have it without the fear of accidental burning or even death.  They eliminate the additional heat generated by burning kerosene.  They eliminate the soot in their homes.  Parents no longer have to wonder if the soot that covers the faces of their children each morning will harm them in the long run.  All of that goes away.  It doesn’t take them long to realize that an extra, difficult investment today will reduce the cost of medical care in the future.  Lamps aren’t the only example.

Water Health International operates small water treatment stations throughout India.  When they started in India in 2005, they operated one station.  People were reluctant to pay money for water, a commodity they could get for free from the local well.  Government efforts at education, though, helped the majority of the public understand that unclean water could make them sick, so when WHI stuck with their operation, the cost of local medical care started to go down.  People were spending more on water, but they were spending less on medicine each month.  They were also spending less time away from work due to illness.  They started feeling better…just feeling better.  By the end of 2009, WHI had nearly 300 stations.  Over 200 additional stations are planned for 2010.  And, most shockingly, at least 2 other competitors were in operation by the end of 2009.  Their entrepreneurship created a whole new industry in the country.

When we perceive that we have a scarcity of a resource, we resist expending that resource on something that isn’t guaranteed.  Nobody wants to waste that which they believe is scarce.  We all want those guarantees.  Of course, there are no real guarantees.  Any guarantee is a fallacy, a falsehood.  All we really have is a perception that risk is mitigated.  That’s it.  Yet, we buy into guarantees all the time, as if a document or a signature is good for something.  Well, they aren’t.  There really are no guarantees. 

Change starts with a small group of people who are willing to go out on a limb to show others that their small, impossible idea will work.

If you want to launch your small, impossible idea, find your followers.  If you can’t find them, then build your own tribe.  Find the people that you trust.  Strengthen your network.  Your network is all you really have. 

Invest, not with money but with a piece of yourself.  It’s worth more than gold.  Your time and energy, your trust and friendship…those are things that no economic downturn can spoil.  You can’t ruin that when the market crashes.  Trust is the most valuable currency we have.  Trust is scarce.  We need more of it.  We need a lot more of it.  We need it to fuel our organizations at the macro level, and we need it to fuel our tribes at the micro level.   

Change starts with a small group of people who are willing to go out on a limb to show others that their small, impossible idea will work.

Be the one who starts, who isn’t afraid to push an idea forward.  Don’t go it alone.  Build a tribe.  Make a real change.  Make a small, impossible idea a reality.