Author: Ricardo

Plato wrote about Socrates.  Socrates never wrote anything that can be directly attributed to him.  So, it’s a leap of faith, I suppose, for a layman like me to believe that Socrates ever existed at all.  We’ve only got Plato’s word.  You have to decide whether or not that’s good enough for yourself.

Socrates said something that I really like…well, at least Plato said that Socrates said it.  I’ve referenced it before:

“The unexamined life is not worth living.”

That can mean a lot of things to a lot of people, but to Socrates, it meant that you had to question everything because questioning is the only way to come to some semblance of the truth.  Regardless of where one believe truth comes from, truth is not something that someone can right down in a book and hand to you.  That’s not how you come to know it.  Socrates insisted that truth could only be understood within the context of a life of questions and answers.

So, please don’t get pissed off at me when I challenge the direction in which the rest of the sheep in the flock are headed.  I just want to know if the path leads to some succulent pasture or to the slaughterhouse floor.  Not only is the unexamined life not worth living, if you don’t examine where you’re going, you might not have much of a life left to live.

I am ashamed to admit it, but I pretty much just glided through today like a little fuzzy round thing floating down one of those big sewer pipes you always see in the movies.  I try not to do that very often.  It’s plain wasteful, in my opinion.  And since we’re talking about my life, I think my opinion is really the opinion to which I will pay the most attention.  I’m not trying to be an ass or anything, but…you know.  It’s my blog, my life, so I have some clout around these parts.

Anyway, so I was pretty unconscious today save for a few meaningful conversations.  I think that took up about 2 hours of my life.  The rest…lots of fluff.  Now, it doesn’t mean I didn’t DO anything today or even that I wasn’t productive at work.  I know…it sounds weird, but you can certainly complete tasks without really accomplishing anything on The Master List of Crucial Stuff.  That’s where I sort of fell short.  

So, the triumph today…and, yes, there was a triumph…is that I can sit here now and acknowledge the unconsciousness of the day.  You see, a tragedy would be living unconsciously and not being able to…irony…become conscious of the unconsciousness.  And the sooner that consciousness comes, the less damaging the unconsciousness.  I know, I know.  This all sounds very circular.  It sort of it.  The point, though, is that I feel like I am in uncharted territory here.  I have never been this self-aware this often.  It’s really a remarkable feeling.  

I don’t know.  Maybe I’m the only one who lived unconsciously.  Maybe everyone else had a much more heightened state of awareness than I did, and I’ve finally caught up to the rest of the gang.  That’s totally possible.  Regardless, I am grateful beyond words for the ever-evolving, ever-progressing path to enlightenment upon which I wander.  Sometimes, I’m on it…the path, that is.  At other times, I am not so much on it.  I am just happy to be able to tell the difference and correct my course.

 Summer is on its way in.  There is no doubt about that.  While the temperature may not be soaring in the 90’s, the feel is definitely in the air.

It never ceases to amaze me how absolutely beautiful our planet Earth is.  She brings me to tears as quickly and as easily as she puts a smile on my face.  She fills my heart with joy and love.  I have no choice but to be in awe of her.

Something as simple as driving home, as mundane as traversing the same bridge I do every day, can instantly become a transformative experience if I simply stop and behold what my beloved Mother Nature has to show me.  She is everywhere.  She is always.  She is exquisite.  

My wife is exquisite, too…in case you were wondering.

They are both breathtaking, my wife and my planet.  And they are never more beautiful than when I seize the moment to admire them.  It’s really that simple.

Because I am convinced that Seth Godin and Dan Pink either share a consciousness or, possibly, are actually SOMEHOW ACQUAINTED, I continue to obsessively contemplate how to merge many of the lessons of “Drive” with those of “Linchpin.” In my obsessive contemplation, I neglected to consider the book that first drew me to Seth’s writing: “Tribes.”

A few days ago, on the way back from a stroll to the water fountain, the phrase “‘T’ is for ‘Tribe'” popped into my head. Then I sketched something. I don’t have a scanner near me, so I opened MS Paint, that most rudimentary computer-aided-drawing tool, and created a crude visual of what I was thinking.  “Visual” and “thinking” belong together, if you ask me, and I am a very visual thinker.

It occurred to me that Pink’s “Four T’s” over which people seek mastery are really the essence, the soul, of a Godin-esque Tribe.  In Pink’s model, the T’s are: time, task, technique, and team.  Time is representative of the time frame within which people do the work.  Task is representative of the actual step or steps behind doing the work.  Technique is how one goes about doing the work, the style and methodology for getting things done.  And team is representative of the people with whom we choose to work.

I thought about the T’s in terms of a Mega Corp like the one in which I labor. In the typical Mega Corp, the average worker bee is denied mastery over team and task. Often, technique is controlled. Time probably comes in fourth. The point is that the longing for matery over the Four T’s is palpable. So, what happens when you quietly and discreetly grant people mastery over their own Four T’s?

They become AWESOME.

At least, that is my experience…no. No…it’s more than that  Granting mastery over the Four T’s is my mission as a leader. I inspire and influence so that other can be innovative. And I do that by granting them mastery over the Four T’s. I just didn’t have a name for it.  Until now.

So, “T” is for “Tribe” because the Four T’s are the soul of any Tribe.

Pick a sport. Any sport.

Pick a team. Any team.

Pick a coach. Any coach.

Now, watch them closely.

What do you see?

I will tell you what I do not see. I do not see a person standing on the sidelines with a latex glove that reaches up to their armpits and a barrel of lubricant right next to them poised to ram their hand up the ass of every player on the team. They do not seek to control every action of every person in play for every minute of the game. And they do not suppress autonomy and individual decision-making in the heat of the contest.

What I do see is a person standing on the sidelines guiding, not directing, individual and collective performance. I see a person working to develop great players. You see, a great coach builds great teams. They find the right mix of breadth and depth in the individual skill set, and they create lineups that balance these skills. They put the right people in the right position in order to win the game. They visualize victory and enlist their teams in that vision. They set direction and make the plan to get them to the goal. They ensure each individual understands the mission. Then, they unleash the players and coach. They coach.

In leadership, the words “coach” and “coaching” have become cliché…poorly-used clichés. In most business circumstances, what is meant is “feedback,” manager, and director. It is more akin to coaching in the Pee Wee Football sense than the NFL sense. The former is precisely the type of coaching that is not needed in today’s world for a business to be successful. We should not seek to control the individual but guide them instead. We should not seek to create every process but allow the individuals who do the work to organically evolve their method of operation. We cannot expect the implementation of high-tech tools to cure our organizational ills. We cannot expect bureaucracy and red tape to help us control the flow and pace of work. And we cannot expect to cultivate a courageous workforce in an environment that lacks trust…on both sides.

So, if you aren’t wearing pads or armor or $500 sneakers, get the heck out off the court.

Other people are crazy.  Of this, I am quite sure.  

Today’s revelation is that other people’s crazy is my opportunity.  And here I thought that I would have to endure the crazy visited upon me by a bunch of other people who have a history of crazy that I don’t quite trust.  Yet, here I am, laughing because their crazy is my opportunity.

I told Jeff: coach everyone.  Just a few weeks later, crazy has turned into not-as-crazy, and opportunity slaps me in the face.  

Oh yeah, carpe diem: seize the fish.

 I am nothing without them.  

Without them, I am just me.  Alone.  Powerless.  I can talk, talk talk.  I can write, write, write.  I can walk around in circles patting my head and rubbing my stomach.  I can do all that and recite the Gettysb…a dirty limerick…while beat-boxing, but I would still be nothing if not for them.

Without them, I would mostly in my head.  The majority of my day would be spent just sitting there.  Staring at a screen.  Reading stuff on the internet.  I’d feel important.  I’d feel like I was doing something worthwhile.  I’d feel like all the reading was going to make a huge difference in the world.  But it wouldn’t.  Because I would be nothing without them.

I am nothing without them.

Here’s how I define nothing: vacuous, without substance, and devoid of meaning.  That’s a pretty comprehensive description of nothing, if you ask me.  Carve the hours you are asleep out of the day.  Carve out the hours you’re driving here there.  Carve out the hours you’re engaged in acts of hygiene and bodily functions.  Carve out the hours you meander aimlessly.  Carve out all that time, and you’re left with very little “other” time.  For me, that’s the time I get to spend with my family, and that time is precious.

But they aren’t the ones about which I write.

Of course my family gives my life meaning.  Of course they influence the purpose I pursue in my life.  Much of what I do, I do for them because we are part of an interdependent collective.  We’re a family!  But the time I spend with them is slim compared to the time I spend at work.  And at work, I am called a leader.

I am nothing without those I lead.

You see, I make nothing.  I build nothing.  I program nothing.  My purpose is to lead, to manage.  My existence, according to the company, is to ensure that the people I lead have the type of working environment they need in order to get things done, important things.  

They are the company.  Without me, they continue on.  I am replaced.  They keep working.  

At first, this seems like a very strange realization to have.  Andrew Carnegie purportedly said:

“Take away my people and leave my factories,and soon grass will grow on the factory floors.
Take away my factories but leave my people, and soon we will have new and better factories.”

I wonder what he would have said about middle management?  He probably would have said something like, “Take away a middle manager, and two more will grow in its place.”  

We spend an awful lot of time at work.  I think those of us who choose to lead others should be clear about our purpose.  And I think we should be clear about who we serve.  Without a spirit of servitude, you’re pretty much left with a middle manager and a grassy factory floor.  Oh, there may still be people there, but you’d be farther away from that new and better factory than you could possibly imagine.

I learned the most about mourning from, of all things, a business book I read a few years ago about managing through transitions in large corporations.  The book, in fact, is called “Managing Transitions” by William Bridges.  I’ve talked and written about it many times.  It’s funny how it is only in retrospect that you realize how influential a book has been in your life.

The most important thing I learned is that mourning is a doorway into the possibilities of the future.  When we experience a great change in our lives, we must mourn what was, what existed before the change.  We mourn what could have been.  We mourn what we often believe SHOULD have been.  Most importantly, we always, always mourn for ourselves.  We seldom mourn for anyone else but ourselves.  When we do, it is brief.  Mourning, it turns out, is a very personal act of release.

Unfortunately, it is quite possible to never get beyond the mourning.

You see, in our society, we mourn for in public for a period.  Then we stop.  We stop because we believe we must.  Our mourning then becomes private.  Mourning becomes a solitary act.  We suppress the urge.  We suppress the feelings.  We wish them away.  We bury them deep.  But, as the saying goes, emotions buried never die.  It is at this point that we betray our best interest and keep the cycle of mourning from completing.

Mourning is a doorway.  It is just a step in a larger cycle.  Mourning allows us to move on from our fixation on what was and what could have been to what will be.  What will be…this is the future of limitless possibilities.  Sometimes, particularly in a large organization or corporation, what will be is outlined in a vision statement or a document of some kind around which people can rally in order to build a new future.  Unfortunately, in our personal lives we seldom have such a concise, well-defined visionary document.

But that shouldn’t stop us from moving forward.

While we may not have a document, what we have is vision.  We have our mind’s eye to show us what the future can be.  There is, of course, danger in once again living outside the present moment and in our heads once again.  We can fixate on a better tomorrow…always tomorrow…that will never come.  If our vision is always on the horizon…well, have you ever chased the horizon?  It has a habit of always been far ahead…on the horizon.

Imagine what can be.  Then look to what is, to what is in front of you.  Give thanks for the present moment.  Be grateful for life and love and everything beautiful surrounding you.  This is the place where you will find grace.

Feel your pain.  Mourn.  But do not let too many “nows” pass you by.