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The reason I became a vegetarian is because I was hit with the overwhelming reality that no living animal needs to die so that I can live.  Strong statement, I know.  But, at minimum, no living creature should have to die just so I can eat.  How’s that?  A little more tame?  As time goes on, I find myself feeling more and more strongly about it.  In the past year or so, I have not knowingly contributed to the death of a single animal, “knowingly” being the operative word here.

And “knowingly” falls short.

When I was visiting the shores of Lake Superior, I took to skipping rocks.  I’ve always loved skipping rocks, and I’ve gotten fairly good over the years.  At work, they call those “hidden talents.”  The rocks on the beach where we were staying were particularly flat and particularly good for skipping.  One day, I was collecting rocks.  They kept getting bigger and bigger, until I finally pried a large triangular rock from between two huge slabs of stone.  It was ridiculously huge, but I was in a rock-collecting frenzy.  As I lifted the rock, I saw something pale fall into the water.  I bent over to look at the pale thing floating on the ground.  I couldn’t quite make it out, so I put the rock down next to the other stones.  I scooped the pale thing out of the water.  

It was a crayfish.  Two of its legs were torn off.  It body was twisted.  Its innards were coming out of a crack in its shell.  It was clearly dying.

It is amazing how careless we, as human beings, can be.  We are particularly careless when it comes to nature and our collective effect on the environment, the world around us.  We can be careless with one another, too, but it is clearly far more effortless for us to destroy our world without much consideration.  While this may seem like an overreaction to the accidental death of a single crayfish, the whole thing highlighted to me how important it is for me to be deliberate in my actions.  

My wife is always asking me what my intentions are when I behave a certain way or do a certain thing.  The question ranges from thought-provoking to annoying depending on how guilty and defensive I feel, but there is wisdom in the thought behind the inquiry.  Without deliberate thought and without clear intention, actions can become thoughtless, careless, destructive.  We cannot control everything of course, so unexpected outcomes are to be expected.  But let accidents be true accidents and not the result of negligence.

I felt remorse for the death of that crayfish.  I didn’t stop to think how my actions might impact the world around me.  I didn’t think at all.  I was plain careless.

 We are always on the edge of vastness.  It is always there, just out of reach.  We keep missing it…barely.

My mother told me a story about something mysterious that was sighted off the coast of Long Island several decades ago.  It was like something moving through the water, just under the surface.  It was enormous, creating a wake behind it without breaching the surface.  Just at the surface.  Many people saw it, but nobody saw anything, if you know what I mean.

My mother said that one time, she and my father were out in his boat, Sea Fever.  It was during the time of these sightings, and my mother was a bit nervous.  Their ride in the boat went as it normally did.  Then, Sea Fever’s motor sputtered and died.  This, too, was not entirely out of the ordinary for the boat.  My father got to tinkering with the motor.  My mother looked out into the vast, black ocean.  Suddenly and almost instantly, the wake appeared in the water.  My mother…I imagine her wide-eyed and incredulous…watched as the wake slid by the boat, silently.  She saw it, but she saw nothing, if you know what I mean.  My father was too busy working on the motor.  He missed the whole thing.  The wake disappeared.  The motor started.  My parents went back to the boat slip. 

Now, I don’t know how much of this story is real and how much of it is a reconstruction from the memories of a child with an over-active imagination.  The wake I imagine was vast…wide and deep.  At the bottom there is a hint of something, yet there is…nothing.  Nothing that can be seen.  I imagine my father’s boat teetering near the edge, my father oblivious to the gargantuan sea creature that threatens to consume them whole, boat and all.  It does not notice them.  The motor mysteriously restarts, and the giant from the depths slips back into it night-black domain.

The image is one that I have never forgotten.  Even now, as an adult, as I recount this story, the imagine is vivid in my mind…crisp and clear.  It is more real than some of my own memories.  As I ponder the great vastness that is just outside of our reach, this imagine comes to mind.  There is something so huge out there, so enormous, that it can and will swallow us whole.  The only sane reaction is fear.

Fear is a basic reaction to the unknown.  It is instinctual.  I imagine early humans, children of Adam and Eve or early hominid ancestors…it’s irrelevant for our purposes today…sitting by the edge of a cave, perhaps by firelight.  Within the five to ten foot bubble of light from the fire, they are safe.  At the mouth of the cave with their clan behind them, they are safe.  But beyond that delusional envelope of safety, there is the vastness of the world ready to overcome and wash them away.  It was at the edge of the firelight, at the mouth of the cage, where fear went from being just an instinct to an active, cognitive process.  It was there that stories of what might be beyond were first told.  

To this day, when confronted with this vastness, I believe the first reaction is fear.  Fear will hold us back.  It will keep us from connecting to the great heartbeat of Existence itself.  The very essence of who we are in relation to Everything lies in our connection to this vastness, this great power that words fail to capture.  If you have felt it, then you know what I mean.  If you have not, then I cannot articulate what it is like.  It pulses.  It glides.  It skirts the surface, below the surface, just out of view.  We are pulled towards its event horizon.  We are drawn to its light.  But always, always, it is just out of sight, just beyond our meager five senses. 

I do not know what it takes to push beyond the limits of my human, Earthly self and touch that which lies just beyond the firelight, but I will spend the rest of my life reaching out to it.

I’ve just returned from a trip to “The Bridge.”  I’d only ever been down below, where the Trolls live.  On The Bridge, where the Yoopers live, the lake is Superior.  The Bridge contains one third of the land but only three percent of the total population.  And the Yoopers wouldn’t have it any other way.

My neighbors feel like they are living right on top of me, breathing down my neck and peering in my windows.  The little lake behind my house looks like a puddle.  The trees are anemic.  I have to laugh because, once again, I am reminded of the relativity of everything.  Every single thing.  

I watched “Wanted.”  It was violent beyond measure and felt totally alien to the rest of the experience.  I reacted appropriately “guyish” all the same.

I watched most of “The Simpsons Movie.”  Also felt alien.  Also laughed and reacted appropriately.

I watched my family explore and experience everything the U. P. had to offer.  My children surprised me with their boundless energy.  My wife tried things I wouldn’t have thought she would have.  I let myself sublime into the vastness of it, and I felt the heartbeat of Existence itself.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a week.

I have lost my large(ish) pectoral muscles.  I have lost them because I no longer eat animal flesh.  

That’s what I tell myself.

My wife says it’s because I don’t exercise.  I haven’t lifted weights in earnest in almost 3 months.  Is there something to her theory?  She is one of those “practical” people who seems to be all “rationale” and stuff.  She uses “logic” to get through the day.  I don’t understand people like her.  

My sister-in-law says that people like us (she and I, that is) are more aligned to our air element.  We’re airy.  We don’t want to be contained.  No containment…no siree.  Just me getting up every day at the same time, following the same morning routine, eating the same breakfast, making the same 49-mile commute to work with my mug full of coffee, all free and airy and not contained.

There is a woman at work to whom I politely say “good morning” and “hello” when I pass by her.  She looks at me like I have horns on my head or something.  Perhaps she can tell I am airy.

I don’t know about airy.  I feel gassy at times, but I can usually predict when that is going to happen.

Life has a way of continuously happening to you if you let it.  Three months slipped by without my taking the time to work out.  That is nothing more than me allowing my life to happen without making it happen.

Contrary to my airy nature, I allow myself to live a life fully contained by the most artificial of constructs imposed upon me by…others?  No…by me.  I contain myself by allowing my life to happen without making it happen.

I could stop saying “hello” to that woman at work, but that would be against my nature.  I won’t let that happen.  Say “hello” to someone as you pass them by.  I once heard someone say that in Tibet to make eye contact yet not acknowledge someones presence is to deny their humanity and deny the very existence of their soul.  Even if that’s not true, it’s true.  It should be true…somewhere…everywhere.  I won’t let myself do that to someone else.  I won’t allow it to happen.

As for the gas, I accept total responsibility for everything I eat.  Hence, the “no animal flesh” rule.  My pectoral muscles have nothing to do with that.

Time to start working out again.

Honestly, I can’t totally remember how the book “Tribes” came to my attention. What I do remember is running to Barnes and Noble to find the book.  Once I knew what it was all about…well, I had to get my hands on it.  I tore through it in a few days. I paused.  I pondered.  The enormity of what I had just read sank in.  I read it again. Paused some more.  Pondered some more.  And I felt the Universe shift around me.  Another piece to a vast, timeless puzzle fell into place.  And it felt good!

 

I talked about the book with whoever would listen.  I recognized heretics in the wild, and I turned them on to the book.  I work with a heretic and tribal leader, so I slipped him my copy of the book.  I told him he should read it. He hemmed.  He hawed.  He procrastinated.  I kept bugging him.  He finally gave in…and has been transformed!  Like me, he sees the value in tribal leadership and the POWER inherent in building tribes to move the world. Tthe book struck the right nerve with me not because it was a totally new way of thinking but because it spoke to the way I already thought.  The single greatest thing I took from “Tribes” was the idea that I was not alone.  I was not alone because somebody wrote a book that was partially about the way I lead people.  I was not alone because the book contained stories about people that were not that dramatically different from me.  I was not alone because it helped me see others just like me in the world around me.  It both inspired and validated. Both reading and sharing the book has been a profound experience for me.  I recognize that I am one of many, and the many are out there, changing the world.

 

One day, the author of Tribes, Seth Godin, posted an offer on his blog. It was an offer to join a closed social network of fellow “Tribes” fans.  A rather uncomplicated application process was required, but that was it.  It is the type of offer I read a dozen times a week and ignore.  Why not? In my line of work, with my experience, I would never qualify.  But…but I WANTED to be a part of this one.  At the time, I was just beginning to get serious about finding my place in the grand scheme of on-line social networking.  I was motivated. More than anything, though, I loved that book.  I loved Seth’s blog.  I wanted to be a part of this social networking he was talking about because I could FEEL in my bones that this was something extraordinary.  Boy, was I right.

 

When I received the official invitation to join the network, called “Triiibes” (the three “i’s” are for “Inspire,” “Illuminate,” and “Innovate” which, incidentally, are eerily similar to my own personal motto “Inspiration.  Influence. Innovation.”), I was thrilled. I sort of geeked out a bit.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  I was eager to join this little group of people and share my take on the world with them.  Boy, was I shocked. What I found was a vast network of THOUSANDS of people (today there are over 6000), most of whom had already been a part of this network for some time. Many already had relationships. Most of them were familiar with the rules of the road, so to speak.  Most of them already had established blogs…a lot of them have more than one!  These were people who were already consulting, already coaching, running their own business, running other people’s businesses…on and on and on!  It was a pool of talent and knowledge and heart and soul that came pouring out of my computer screen and ran all over my keyboard.  It ruined my desk. I think I had to throw a pair of pants away.  I was inundated and overwhelmed by the deluge of tribal goodness.  It freakin’ rocked.

 

Today, “Triiibes” celebrates its first birthday. I haven’t been a part of it since day one, but the time I have spend mostly reading, sometimes participating, in this incredible social experiment has been as transformational for me as reading the book that started it all, “Tribes.” I have been exposed to so many wonderful people, all of which have been kind, thoughtful, and gentle with me in all of our interactions.  There is a spirit of caring here that is quite unique.  We are all a part of this thing because we want to be.  There is no reward other than sharing life, digitally, with other people from around the world.  The cast of characters spans the globe, and that, in and of itself, is remarkable.  What is more remarkable is how quickly and eagerly people in Triiibes join together to work on things, to move projects forward, to discuss just about any topic under the sun, and to simply share.  They share their lives, their talents, their spirits, with one another.  With me. I am a part of the whole.  While I am no where near as prolific a contributor as some, the times I have reached out, I have been met with warm, friendly hands.  As I have said several times, I am humbled by the genius that I encounter amongst my digital friends. The genius and the compassion. It is startling.

 

For me, Triiibes has been about experiencing others, about studying what goes on in the network.  I haven’t launched any world-changing ventures yet, but I have gained more confidence in how I lead others.  I have asked questions, given feedback, and “listened” to discussions that have helped me move forward with my own ideas on how to change the world.  I maintain my blog religiously. I began writing a book. I participate in tribes at work.  The bottom line is that Triiibes has been one of the greatest sources of inspiration for me during the time I have been a member.  It has changed my life. THEY have changed my life.

 

Happy Birthday, Triiibes. Happy Birthday, Seth. Happy Birthday, EVERYONE.

Like I said, I’m not alone: http://davidism.blogspot.com/ and http://melvinhall.com/node/143.

So, what can I take from this and use in my own life?  Regarding the first point, I believe that I can seek to emulate his quest for inner understanding.  If I can define who I am and what I believe myself to be with clarity and precision, then I will have the tools to help me achieve my goals.  Without a point of reference, navigation in any sense is impossible.  I need to figure out who I am.

The other aspect of the Dalai Lama’s life and personal beliefs that I believe is noteworthy and worthy of emulation is his compassion for all people.  He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1989 because of his dedication to the issue of Tibet.  He has gone to great lengths to educate the world on the issue of Tibet and fighting, peacefully and from a distance, the Chinese government and their occupation of his homeland.  While the Dalai Lama does not hold jurisdiction over other sects of Buddhism nor over every province of Tibet, he has elected to shoulder the burden of fighting for freedom for all Tibetans.  These are a voiceless people who suffer under a tyranny that would otherwise go unchallenged.  If not for Tenzin Gyatso, the issue of Tibet would not even register as a blip on our radars.  Because of the Dalai Lama’s relentlessness, the world is aware of the issue of Tibet and his disenfranchised nation has not been swept under the rug of world politics.  He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize because of this.  However, while the Nobel Peace Prize is an incredible achievement, the award misses the main point of his personal beliefs and teachings: his kindness and desire for peace extend to all people.  He is practical yet clear on his views.  For example, while he does not condemn the war in Iraq and accepts that the war may be justified, he believes the final verdict cannot be made yet as the ultimate value of the outcome is not known at this time.  He has received much criticism as a political figure and as a religious leader because of this position.  That being said, he is quick to point out the bigger picture issue: violence will only beget more violence and will never be a tool for achieving enlightenment or lasting peace.  It is for this reason that he does not support armed conflict as a resolution to the issue of Tibet.  I remember telling my mother that the war in Afghanistan would ultimately wind up being nothing more than an exercise in revenge and would lead to more violence.  I espoused this view to others, as well, and I was met, more often than not, with resistance.  

“If we do nothing, then we teach them that they can do whatever they want to us and that America is weak.”  

“But if we wage war, we will only wind up giving another generation a reason to hate us.  Innocent people will die, and new hatred will be born.”  

Fast forward to today, and Afghanistan continues to be a source of death for American soldiers, as well as a source of conflict on a regional and global scale.  The initial illusions of US success in Afghanistan led us directly down the path of war with Iraq.  More violence, more hatred, and more death.  All these years later, and the situation has barely changed.  We’ve managed to move American troops from one spot to another, then back to the first, all in the name of…of what?  I am not quite sure myself.  At the time I made those statements about violence, I had not read the almost-identical position taken by the Dalai Lama.  I find my personal philosophies to align with many of his, and I admire and respect his open-minded position.  His dedication to compassion are singular, and, I believe, quite unique among those who walk the world stage.  

Compassion and love are what will make a difference in this world.

He desires a life of truth.  He is quoted as saying, time and again, “I am a simple Buddhist monk.”  Despite the fact that, as Dalai Lama, he is viewed as a political leader and figurehead, in his heart he is a monk.  As the leader of Tibet, the burden of putting to an end the Chinese occupation of his home country rests squarely upon his shoulders.  He pursues peaceful means to resolving the issue.  All the while, he lives his life in exile in India.  He has established a government-in-exile; negotiated an accord with the Indian government wherein he has established a Tibetan refugee community under the rule of his government-in-exile; and devised an education system to acculturate the children of the refugees in order to preserve the Tibetan way of life. As a monk, his spiritual life and development are most important to him.  He has pushed the bounds of not only Tibetan Buddhist beliefs but of religious conservatism in general.  He is a student of science and one of the world’s foremost scholars on subjects ranging from the study of human consciousness to physics.  He has said many times that science can teach us things that religion cannot, and, more boldly, that scientific discoveries may necessitate a reevaluation of religious precepts.  He is viewed by his people and the followers of Tibetan Buddhism as the bodhisattva (one who assists others on their journey towards enlightenment) of compassion, and his personal spiritual evolution is still his primary pursuit.  While seeking enlightenment allows him to fulfill his role as bodhisattva, it is the joy he experiences exploring his spirit and reaching out to others that is his primary driver in life.  He has said that he spends 80% of his time on Buddhist pursuits and 20% of his time on the issues of Tibet.  I consider this acknowledgement of who he is, what he believes himself to be, and the insight to be able to prioritize accordingly as traits worthy of emulating.

Last night, there was an absolutely breath-taking routine on “So You Think You Can Dance” that move so many people to tears.  I think the performers themselves were humbled by the reaction of the judges and the crowd.  I know my wife and I were moved.  It was incredible.  Do yourself a favor and check it out: 
My wife watched it again today; she watches her favorite numbers each week more than a few times.  Of course, this one “got” her again, and she cried.  Our littlest happened to be in the room with her, and he noticed her tears.  “Why are you crying, Mama?” he asked her.

“This makes me miss my grandma’s,” she told him.  Both endured their own struggles with cancer during their lifetimes.  Both passed years ago.

He was quiet.  Our oldest was nowhere to be found but, even at a young age, he would have been all empathy.  He would have been articulate, too, and said something like, “I’m sorry you are sad, Mama.  I miss them, too.  Can I get you a tissue or something?”  If you’re smiling, it’s probably because you know our oldest…

So, my wife figured that the moment was lost on our littlest, perhaps a little too “heavy” a situation for him to fully process.

Children are much more acutely aware of the feelings of adults, particularly their parents and/or primary caregivers.  They are attuned to emotion in a way that I think is difficult for most of us, as adults, to comprehend.  Most of us lose that finely-tuned ability.  But the truth is, you often don’t have to speak a word in order for a child to be able to feel what you feel.  Empathy and instinct are two of the most fundamental communication gifts that we learn to ignore as we grow into adulthood.  It’s a shame.  The gifts we could give each other…could be so beautiful.

My precious, little boy looked up at his mother and spoke softly:

“I can pretend to be your grandma, Mama.”

Let’s just get this out of the way: my friend the former Buddhist monk would say “fate.”  Perhaps.  BUT…I would like to think it is by design.

The problem, though, relates back to quote I heard whilst at the University of Dallas: “Every system operates precisely as designed, not as intended.”  So, by design, not intention, I have become functionally irrelevant.

Allow me to explain.

At work, they are remodeling our floor.  A lot of people work on the floor.  So, they divided the floor in half and sent the first wave of us down to the basement of another building.  It smells like sewage down there.  You would figure that a Fortune 100 company would figure out how to vent a building in such a way as to eliminate the sewage smell in the men’s restroom.  Apparently, this is not the case.  However, I digress.

Down in the basement, I am largely isolated from the rest of the world.  My immediate team is around me, but, as has become painfully apparent to me, they don’t need me for much.  When they do need me, they E-mail me.  Or they call me.  Apart from them…yeah, pretty much not a lot going on in my work life.  It is an interesting situation.  I did not realize how much of my day is spent in walk-up/drive-by engagements, either perpetrating such visits or having such visits perpetrated upon me.  Either way, without the foot traffic, I feel functionally irrelevant.  

There.  I’ve said it.  The situation is exacerbated by the fact that, as the weeks pile up (and the smell persists), fewer and fewer people are showing up downstairs.  A bunch of people have opted to work from home more often.  Others are satisfied with “hoteling” space throughout the campus.  Yet others…I don’t know.  I think some of the missing may account for at least a small portion of the smell.  

This is not an entirely bad situation.  Apart from the injury to my ego, I consider the experience rather successful.  How so?  Well, it has demonstrated to me that I have achieved my primary objective…by design.  Not my primary CORPORATE objective, mind you, but my PERSONAL primary objective as a leader of people.  This is the objective that follows me wherever I go, whatever the assignment.  I could take it with me from company to company, if that were my career intent.  It transcends the person above me in the Grand Organizational Hierarchy, and it transcends the logo on my company-supplied notebook.  It is my very personal objective, and I measure success far outside the confines of a corporate employee performance assessment.

My objective is to be a coach.  It is to be a mentor, if appropriate.  It is to be a sounding board for my direct reports and my peers.  It is to be a person in whom others confide and in whom others seek an objective and reasonable opinion.  My objective is to be a guide for others on their journey through life should they feel compelled to entrust such a sacred gift into my hands.  In return, I ask only that they gently and compassionately guide me.

It is NOT my objective to tell people what to do.  It is NOT to tell them how to do it.  It is NOT to manage the details of their daily grind.  I know, I know: every good business person needs to understand what goes on in their part of any organization.  Understood.  But I also know that the best leaders also know that the sure-fire way to get results is to promote autonomy.  We talk so much about accountability at work, but I suspect we differ in our interpretation of the meaning of the word.  I look to promote autonomy and, with that autonomy, an acceptance of the consequences that come with it.  That is one of the ways I define success as a leader.

So, I am now taking this time to figure out what I do next.  How do I serve my team moving forward?  How do I serve my employer moving forward?  And how to I refine this art of leadership further to the benefit of everyone on my team?  It is time to spread the wealth a little farther, a little more evenly.  I’ve neglected a few, and it’s time to see how I can chip in to help them write the most successful story for themselves that they can.

So, by fate or by design?  I am in the basement by fate, but I am slightly more enlightened by design.