Slipping on Commitments

I’m not literally slipping on anything, but slipping is a good analogy.

The bottom line is that I made a commitment to write, and I’ve got to spotlight the fact that I’m not quite living into it.

Fear of not having anything brilliant to say is one obstacle. Well, I absolve myself of the curse of always having to be brilliant. I’ll strive for just intelligent. I can do that.

Another is the desire to have something funny to say. I absolve myself of the burden of always having to be uproariously hilarious. I’ll strive for appropriately witty. I can do that.

And then there’s the need to say something relevant, the need to uncover meaning in life and share it with others. That’s the really big one. That’s the one that keeps me from writing most often. So, I’ll strive to just be honest and creative and authentic and observant. I can do that. The rest? Well, maybe the rest falls into place. Maybe not. Either way, the commitment is to write. I need to keep that in perspective!

Jobs That Expose Your Weaknesses

Jobs that expose your weaknesses are bad. In fact, they are very bad. You should avoid them. Don’t get roped into them. Don’t get conned into the idea that they are good for your development. Don’t let yourself get caught in the misguided practice of focusing on your weaknesses to make you a better…whatever your profession might be.

Instead, marginalized your weaknesses and pump up those strengths. Focus on finding a way out of that cul-de-sac in your career. Identifying and understanding your weaknesses are fundamental to super powering your performance, but jobs that seem to rely on your weaknesses are sure to drive bring you down in so many ways. Not seeking to find your way out of that energy-draining assignment is foolhardy.

There is no shame in admitting that an assignment isn’t the right one for you. You shouldn’t have to sell your employer on the idea that your contributions will be most exceptional in a role that capitalizes on your strengths.

Jobs that expose your weaknesses suck.

No Path Underfoot

I have been thinking quite a bit about what it means to have lost one’s way in life. I think of losing my way and what that might feel like, what it might look like. This is one of the great fears at 40. Probably at 45, too. And 50.

Losing your way looks like this: feet stomping about in the wilderness, no path underfoot. It’s hard working getting from here to there. There’s no easy way. Everything is unknown. Nothing is guaranteed. There is no evidence that anyone has come before, clearing that path you’re so sure will bring you comfort.

Or maybe it’s the complete opposite. Maybe losing your way looks like this: feet dragging slowly along a well-paved, worn-out road. It’s easy getting from here to there. There are few unknowns. There are many guarantees. There is ample evidence that this is the path that dozens of others have followed. It feels comfortable.

Maybe losing your way doesn’t look entirely like either scenario. Maybe losing your way is believing that your life has been reduced to just one. I think losing your way means losing your ability to see that life is more than just the moments upon which we choose to focus.

I do not believe that we can ever lose our way in life. No matter where you tread, there is always a path underfoot. It is your path.

Put Off Ironing

There are times when you just put off ironing and stay up way too late to watch Star Wars. You do it not because Revenge of the Sith is that good but because your son has been waiting for weeks to watch it with you. And when he begs for just a few more minutes, you give him a few more minutes because of the smile on his face and the twinkle in his eyes. You know you’ll feel it tomorrow at work, but you also know tonight will be filed under “God, I love my dad!”

Put off ironing. It’s worth it.

Parkour at 40

The chances that I am going to master Parkour at 40 are slim. I don’t mean to say that there are not folks who can and will asset themselves as Parkour masters, but me…yeah, not so much.

So, I come to terms with the fact that, as much as I would love to, I am not going to be a Parkour legend.

It doesn’t bother me. I accept my limitations, and I acknowledge that I am not a 40-year-old man, not a 20-year-old.

I may not have Parkour in my future, but there are other things that, at 40, are not quite out of my reach yet.

The Temple at 40

If our bodies are temples, I’m like Mayan ruins overcome by the jungle. The foundation isn’t bad, but there’s also lots of rubble covered in vibes and dense overgrowth.

It’s really not that bad, but the temple sure isn’t what it used to be. I think I coasted for years, stretching out my early 20’s well into my 30’s. My metabolism is the kind that lets you get away with things that might add inches to another guy’s waistline. My body has been forgiving. Time simply has no desire to allow the forgiveness to continue.

Nobody warns you that you’ll start to feel a little different as you approach 40. It’s not that I feel bad, mind you. It’s just that I’m starting to feel…different. Something tells me that I’m going to have to start putting in some extra effort to maintain what I’ve gotten used to.

So, that’s the plan now. I’ve made the decision that the temple could use a bit more TLC. I’m not 100% sure what that looks like, but I know something has to change. It’s time to reinvent the temple at 40…

The Line at 40

There are now more people in line behind me than ever before.  I think there are still plenty of people ahead of me in line, of course, but there are a bunch more behind me these days.  And the people ahead of me aren’t all as active as they used to be.  Stands to reason, right?  That’s just part of the natural order of things.

I’m cool with that.  What has made me sort of stop and stand up a little straighter is this idea that maybe the people in line behind me aren’t just standing in line, chatting away unconsciously but maybe they are watching me.  After all, I used to watch the people in line ahead of me when I was new to the line.  I went from adolescent indifference and obliviousness to early-adulthood observation.  At some point in your early 20’s, when you realize that you are not bulletproof and that you might not actually know everything there is to know, you start looking at those who are older than your for some guidance.  After all, there is wisdom in experience, if nothing else.  So, you start watching those with experience.

At 40, my place in line and my perspective of my place is subtly shifting.  I have experience.  I have expertise.  I have come a long way, done some cool stuff in my life.  I’ve also done some really dumb stuff.  I’ve had some frightening moments.  I’m proud of some things and ashamed of some others.  It’s not that I didn’t have similar lists when I was 20.  The difference is that, at 40, the overall data set of experience is a lot bigger.  And it’s richer.  A lot richer.

The line at 40 might not be any different, but it sure looks different from where I am standing.  Not sure what to do with that.  What I do know is that it has opened up a whole bunch of possibilities in my mind…

Prescription for the Symptom

If you’ve got a nasty viral infection clogging up the plumbing in your head, making you cough, and leading to a sore throat, chances are you’ll head to the doctor if it doesn’t let up after a few days.  When you see the doctor, chances are she’ll prescribe a decongestant, an anti-histamine, and an antibiotic.  That last one is to make everyone feel like the big guns are being pulled out, but that’s beside the point.  Actually, it’s not, because what the doctor is doing is prescribing stuff to help alleviate the symptoms of the viral infection, not the infection itself.  We all know that viruses need to run their course and there’s really not much to be done for them.  It’s all about the symptoms.  The cause of your malaise will go untreated.  Nature has to take it’s course.

 

The same applies to this idea that we have to focus our time more on that fourth Covey quadrant (exercise, vocation, planning, etc.) with the more strategic, forward-facing stuff in our lives.  Don’t get me wrong.  We have to be aware of the problem and of the possible solutions.  We have to bring presence to our daily working lives if we want to have a hope of unleashing our full potential here at work.  What’s often missing in our thought process, though, is that extra step to treat the illness and not just the symptom.  Lots of meetings (bad meetings at that), lots of e-mail, and lots of busy work are all symptoms of something else.  They are simply behaviors.  Behind the symptoms there are illnesses, just as behind the behaviors there are beliefs

 

The cause of every behavior is a belief or series of beliefs that life circumstances have positively reinforced over and over again.  Everything we do is a direct result of past experience.  Dr. Phil used to say that the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior.  I know that it sounds pessimistic, but he always gets to the next step.  The next step is to address the root of the behavior and not the behavior itself.  It’s like the Resolutionaries who invade the gym at the beginning of each new year.  Armed with New Year’s Resolutions and the best of intentions, the Resolutionaries flock to their local gyms and take over.  Gym regulars impatiently wait in lines that didn’t exist a week earlier.  They put up with longer lines, shorter workouts, and crowded locker rooms.  Some of the regulars take a vacation for the month of January.  They know that by February, most of the Resolutionaries will have lost their resolve and will be back into the rut of old behaviors.  It’s somewhat comical, but it is also a great example of the process at work: a New Year’s Resolution often targets behaviors and not the beliefs driving the behaviors.  In the end, that’s why they are doomed.

 

Likewise, if we say that we have to make time on our calendars to focus more on that fourth quadrant, then we’re ultimately doomed to fail.  We have to take a look at the activities that consume our time today and ask ourselves the all-important “why” question.  Why do we spend our time on time-wasting activities?  Why is our attention drawn to other quadrants?  Why so many organization, so many systems of positive reinforcement and punishment, encourage us to engage in activities we would otherwise deem as not worthy of time and attention?  The answer to those “why” questions will point us in the direction of beliefs both organizational and personal.  Seeking to change the behaviors will get us only so far.  Seeking to influence beliefs will help get us started down the path we want to take.

 

Now What?

First of all, I don’t think this whole thing that happens at 40 is really a crisis. The crisis would be roaring through 40 without a care in the world. I think a little reflection is good for a person.

What really happens is that we get caught thinking a little too much about what we’ve done or even failed to do. It’s like negative accounting of a collection of dusty memories. Reflection is good. Staring in the rear view mirror is what’s dangerous.

I think a far more productive use of time entails taking stock of what you have today and daring to dream about the wondrous things you can do with them tomorrow.