Musings

I don’t like this time of year. Temperature has nothing to do with it. Finalizing taxes with my wife has nothing to do with it. It all has to do with annual merits at work.

I can handle doing annual reviews. I can handle doing regular checkpoints throughout the “year.” I can even handle having some of those uncomfortable conversations that you have to have when you take on a leadership role. What I struggle with the most is administering salary increases. It’s about having those money conversations. It’s a mixed bag; some people are happy, others aren’t, while the rest are usually OK with it.

There are those who excel, get a decent raise, and are grateful. There are those who excel, get a decent raise, and feel they should have gotten more. There are those who are mediocre, don’t get such a decent raise, and are grateful. There are those who perform well, don’t excel, get an average raise, and really let you have it. You aren’t guaranteed each of these every time, but it’s usually a safe bet that there are one or two in the mix. That is enough to make me dread this time of year.

This year, I am trying to take a long, hard look at myself to figure out why this aspect of leading others bothers me so much. I could talk about how empathetic I am, how sensitive I am, and chalk it up to something positive having to do with my character. That’s always a safe bet. After all, isn’t such human sensitivity really something to brag about as I lament my lot in life? But my lot isn’t so bad at all. Not by a long shot. There is much more for which to be grateful, so not “liking” this time of year is really just a big ol’ “pity party” on my part. Boo-hoo: Ric doesn’t like uncomfortable situations. Who does?

I think the issue might go back to that whole issue I have with not feeling worthy. Who am I to judge others? Am I really someone capable of making such assessments? Am I qualified to mess with their livelihoods? If I doubt that I deserve to hold the position that I do, then it would stand to reason that I’d have a hard time executing the responsibilities associated with this role. That resonates with me.

So, I feel different this year, realizing that my hang up has nothing to do with empathy and everything to do with insecurity. It’s not about the people I am talking to; it’s all about me. And THAT revelation hurts the most. I claim empathy, but in reality I am being selfish. Selfish is like the antithesis to empathy. I felt a measure of shame as I thought about that point. That didn’t last long. The light of the revelation brought everything into focus.

It shouldn’t be about me at all. It really, truly is all about them. I have to bring my heart back into the situation and focus on the people to whom I am talking. It’s their livelihoods I am impacting.

So, I was in Texas for a few days. A dear friend turned 40. I got to see another friend for the first time in about 4 years. I got to see some more friends who I just saw this past November, but it’s always such a comfort to be in their presence. I also got to see my family. Big brother and his family…I actually got to see my brother and my niece on their birthdays! That hasn’t happened in years. Got to see Mom and Dad. I got to watch my boys playing with their cousins…yelling and laughing and stomping about. Good, good energy. I love all of my friends; I love my family. My time with them was good.

When I was in Texas, I saw the Alamo Drafthouse. That was cool. When I see it mentioned at aintitcool.com, I’ll be able to picture it, in the heart of Austin, right there on Sixth Street.

Random thought, of no consequence.

I also thought a bit about my diet. When you are a vegetarian sitting in Lambert’s, a joint famous for old-fashioned Texas barbecue, you think about things like diet. Earlier that same day, I sat in on a class about medicinal foods at Whole Foods on Lambert, the company’s flagship store. A few days prior, Dr. Mehmet Oz interviewed the author of a book called “The Origin of Diet” about…you guessed it…the evolution of the human diet. A few days before THAT, the world celebrated the 200th anniversary of Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin (February 12, 1809 for both).

I found myself at that odd crossroads of spirit and science. I find myself there often. His Holiness the Dalai Lama maintains that when science teaches us something that conflicts with our beliefs…well, we might want to reexamine our beliefs in the context of scientific discovery. He makes a subtle point here, not about throwing the proverbial baby out with the bath water but about reexamining. That’s it; just reexamining. If science can add to the spiritual, then embrace that. If the spiritual can add something to science…well, isn’t that what the Christian Conservative Right in America is fighting for? The soul as the conscience of science?

So, in Lambert’s, Texas BBQ, I thought about my soul, the sanctity of all life, and my conviction that another animal should not have to die for me to live. It is a hard choice, a complicated path, this life of vegetarianism. My belief is rooted partially in science: vegetarians, as a whole, live healthier lives. It’s a tangible, quantifiable assertion backed by good science. My belief, though, is rooted more in my spiritual belief regarding animal life. Perhaps if humans showed more humanity in their treatment of animals, my opinion might be different. I don’t think so, but it is possible. Regardless, my mind wandered back to science. There are those who maintain that the human organism benefits from certain animal…byproducts, flesh included. Can I get everything I need from things that grow from the Earth? I believe I can; others do not.

As I sat there, I listened to someone talking to my wife about some of her medical issues, and diet inevitably came into the conversation. They talked about how modifying diet has helped alleviate her medical concerns. It was interesting given that the person who conducted the class earlier in the day had also told a story of how she suffered with psoriasis for over a decade before modifying her diet. When she did, her debilitating psoriasis all but disappeared. And for those keeping score, she still eats meat.

If you are going to eat meat, the best thing you could probably eat is grass-fed organic beef. Grain-fed animals are…well…pretty much not as healthy or nourishing. We’ll leave it at that. Now, I hesitate discussing diet with people because, I have found, it is as personal and as volatile a subject as religion, politics, and parenting. As a matter of fact, I’d rather discuss any of those over diet. People seem more interested in finding inconsistencies in my vegetarianism than in my child-rearing, spiritual, or evolutionary beliefs. The thing that matters the most, I realized, is that I continue to live in a way that resonates with me. I seek to gain consistent alignment between what I believe in my soul and what I do with and to my body. It is about me, not about anyone else. I smiled while sitting in Lambert’s because everything felt…right.

That said, given a choice of topics between God, Darwin, and grass-fed organic beef, I’ll stick with God and Darwin.

Sustaining activities over the long haul is not my strong suit. My mind wanders, my attention shifts. I float from stream of consciousness to stream of consciousness. I often find myself jolted awake by this crisis or that crisis, whatever requires my attention at the moment. I tend to be forced into focusing on something rather than choose my area of focus.

Focus. That would be another one of those key characteristics of “successful” people. Focus. It helps to know what you want because that gives you a “guiding principle” for everything that you do. Success can only be measured against a goal or objective. Without either…well, how do you know where you are?

Right now, I am going to take some time to figure out where I am, where I want to go.

Pause…

Four monks made an agreement to meditate in silence for a week and not speak a single word.

One the first day, they maintained silence, but, as the darkness fell, the flame of the candle in their room began to flicker.

“Oh! The flame is going out!” cried the first monk.

“A-HA!” cried the second monk. “Our agreement was to not speak a single word!”

“You two have forfeited our agreement!” shouted the third.

“HA! HA! HA!” bellowed the fourth. “I am the only one who did not talk.”

The moral of the story: in admonishing others and pointing out their errors, we are very likely fallible ourselves.

Wish I could claim that one as my own, but, mercifully, I have no experience with the topic.

However, I do have experience with Love and Logic parenting. Good stuff. Dr. Charles Fay is the son of one of the founders of the parenting philosophy. The Love and Logic Institute puts out regular E-mail newsletters. They usually have short anecdotes like the one below. I enjoy them immensely, and I often share them with others.

This one is good. While the note below is to a young adult, the concept remains the same for kids of all ages: by not making kids be accountable for stuff, we rob them of the valuable experiences that will help them out later in life. In my work, I run across a lot of people who probably could have used parents a little more like the one who authored the letter. Dr. Fay’s note is included below in its entirety. Good stuff. Read on…

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Kicking Adult Kids Out of the Nest…In a Loving Way

While it’s fine for hard-working and respectful adult children to live with their parents for limited periods of time, it never makes sense with irresponsible and disrespectful ones. On page 147 of my new book, Parenting Kids to Become the People Employers Really Want and…America Desperately Needs!, I include the following letter written to a “responsibility-challenged” 23-year-old.

Dear Lex:

I need to apologize. I am so sorry! I’ve been stealing from you for years.

I haven’t taken anything like money… or any of your things. What I have stolen is your self-respect. I’ve also stood in the way of you becoming a man. I haven’t done this on purpose. I did it because I love you very much. I really thought that I was doing the right thing by protecting you from the world. Now I realize that you need a chance to see that you have what it takes to make it in the world.

When you were just a little boy, you were afraid to learn how to swim. Because I worried that you might drown if you ever fell in a pond or a pool, I forced you to get in the water for your first lesson. You were so mad at me! That’s until you learned how to float and paddle your way around the pool. Then you were so proud. On the way home from the pool, you smiled from ear to ear.

That’s what I want for you now. That’s why I’m expecting you to dive into adulthood by moving out and becoming completely self-supporting.

If you decide that you would like to continue your education by going to trade school or community college, you may live here with us as long as you are doing your fair share of housework, are fun to be around, and are earning money to help us with utilities, food, and other miscellaneous expenses.

Let me know what you decide.

Love,
Dad

Thanks for reading!
Dr. Charles Fay

“Remember that it is not how you feel that determines how you act but how you act that determines how you feel.”

That’s how a friend paraphrased that quote to me. I have it set up as a reminder in Outlook at work three times each week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. That’s another one of those things that I do for myself.

Reminding myself that I can will myself into feeling better is an important coping tools. Sometimes, I am tempted to give in to the downward sucking force of negative momentum. You know, the whole “how you feel determines how you act” scene. It’s the opposite of what I believe is true. Choosing to believe that your feelings should rule your actions is the kiss of death. Sometimes, that’s literal.

There was a study…can’t recall where I read about it…that followed a group of nuns in a convent for 20 years. The baseline of the study measured attitude. They interviewed the nuns and evaluated the positive or negative nature of their outlook. They’ve been working with these nuns for 20 years (or something like that), and they have found that the most negative of the lot died significantly earlier (10 years in many cases) than the most positive nuns. That’s something to think about.

Now, I realize this sounds like a totally bogus, anecdotal, and misinformed recounting of a study, but it’s fer reals. Google “The Nun Study” to get more detailed information. There’s even a book. The study included over 600 nuns from about 6 different convents. They were all from the same Order. The study also revealed amazing information regarding Alzheimer’s. There’s more to dig into.

On the surface, the positivity aspect of the study should be enough to make you stop and think about your attitude. Are you acting the way you feel, or are you acting yourself into the way you want to feel? A slight change in your perception of your own attitude might be something to help keep you alive…literally.

I’m tired tonight. It’s only Monday. Not a good way to start the week. And this is going to be one of THOSE weeks. It just will be.

Just because I’m tired, though, doesn’t mean that I haven’t had a few thoughts about what to write. Eckhart Tolle says that becoming consumed by your thoughts proves you are still a long way from enlightenment. But…if those thoughts are about enlightenment…what then? Where does that leave you?

I haven’t exactly been thinking about enlightenment so much as what to write about today. I have a bazillion undeveloped ideas rambling around in my head. The one that floats to the top has to do with being authentic at work.

Being authentically you can be hard enough sometimes. I should say, “Being authentically me,” but you get my drift. So, it stands to reason, that being your authentic, whole self at work would be even more difficult. I totally struggle with this. I struggle with the pressure to conform in order to advance. I struggle with being repulsed by that idea. I struggle with being loyal to my true self and honoring that person in his entirety. I dishonor myself when I turn my back on who I am. Yet, there’s that pressure.

Fortunately, I have the good sense to resist that pressure, for the most part. I “get” that I have an obligation to the organization for which I work to perform the responsibilities assigned to me. I do that. What I don’t do is lose myself in the process of making someone else happy. I think you can do both…with a little manipulation. It’s all just a matter of performing your job as described, then performing your job beyond what is described. In that “beyond” space, you find room for your authenticity. At least that’s where I find it.

I don’t think it’s impossible to be authentic at work. Bringing my full spiritual self to work and leveraging what he has to offer makes me the unique the leader that I am.

It makes me a woo-woo leader.

In Spanish, the word “manipular” doesn’t have quite the same sinister connotations as the word “manipulation” does in English. In Spanish, it literally means “to handle.” Of course, it can mean the same thing as it’s English counterpart, but manipular can be used in every day speech without seeming…inappropriate.

In English, manipulation is a bad thing. Merriam-Webster lists three definitions for the word “manipulate,” and it’s the third definition that refers to the negative form of the word. Check it out for yourself: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/manipulate. However, it’s the third one that people immediately jump to when they hear the word.

Last week, I had a conversation with a colleague, and the topic of manipulation came up. He acknowledged the negative connotations of the word, but he was also brave enough to use the word to describe how he manages the many moving parts that comprise his world at work. I appreciated that courage, and I further appreciated the recognition that manipulation is precisely how many things are accomplished in the business world. Heck, watch “Meet the Press” on Sunday mornings, and you’ll see manipulation at work at so many levels. The show manipulates your perceptions; the guests manipulate the host; the host manipulates the guests…it goes on and on. I even observe it in my own home: my kids manipulate me; I manipulate my kids; my wife manipulates me; I manipulate my wife. It all sounds so…ugly.

But the truth of the matter is that all of these things, when stripped of our emotional reactions to them, point to a very basic and very vital skill that differentiated humankind tens of thousands of years ago: the ability to manipulate our environment. “To manage or utilize skillfully,” as Merriam-Webster on-line puts it. There is no sin in learning to utilize the resources at your disposal in an effort to elicit change. It is motivation that can turn things dark.

And what constitutes the “right” motivation? I don’t know. It’s a subjective practice, and that’s where the negative connotations come from. Regardless, learning to skillfully utilize your faculties and your knowledge of the things and people around you is essential to survival. It’s a skill I hope to develop in my kids. Does that sound wrong? To some it might. The fact of the matter is that the better they are at manipulating situations, for example, the more likely they are to keep themselves out of harm’s way or work towards a greater good.

You can argue the motivation thing until the end of time, and people will usually take a polar view of the topic. However, you can’t argue about manipulation. It is real. It’s “out there.” The world is filled with people who manipulate for gain and others who manipulate in order to provide the world with balance. I dig deep, every day, to make sure that I am on a side of the coin that I can live with, that serves as a good example for my kids, that will allow my wife to proudly claim me as her husband, and that serves the wisdom, compassion, and love that I know guide this Universe.

Manipulation. It is what you make it.

My friend (the former Buddhist monk) and I had an interesting conversation the other day that meandered through many topics. At one point, I found myself explaining to him how I felt about trying to provide the best life possible for my children.

I used to say that I wanted to provide for my children the same experiences and opportunities that I had growing up. It was actually a source of anxiety for me. How on Earth was I going to be able to provide my boys with the types of vacations I enjoyed as a child, for example? I can’t afford fancy resorts all the time. How am I going to send them to Russia? To Cyprus? My parents did that for me. Shouldn’t I strive to give that to my kids?

But the years have given me clarity that I lacked back then. There’s the process of spiritual discovery to thank for that, of course. That, and my boys have taught me a thing or two about the Universe as we’ve grown up together. I realize now that when I used to say that I wanted to provide them with the same experiences, I was really saying that I wanted to provide them with the same MATERIAL experiences that I had. I was caught up in the world of form. What my boys have taught me is that my heart and soul really wanted to recreate the feeling you get as a child when you experience the world with your family by your side. I don’t remember the thread count of the sheets or the make of the car my parents rented when I was a kid. What I remember from my childhood is traveling with my parents, sharing experiences with my brothers, and seeing new and exciting things with the people I loved most around me.

That’s such a simple thing to give my boys. All it requires is that I be present for them, that I live in the moment as they live in the moment, and that I make those moments about all of us as a family. If my wife and I can do that with them, then I think I can safely say that I will be giving them exactly what I had as a kid.

This transcends special times, like vacations and birthdays, though. Sure, making those times special is important, but it’s being completely present that makes all the difference to my boys. Keeping that in mind is tough, but it’s essential. I may struggle to do it every day, but if they can feel my presence in some of the moments we share each day, then I think I am building something for them that will outlast me and endure with them for years to come.

Besides, being present reduces stress, and reducing stress prolongs life.

Being present: good for me, good for them!

Problem is, I can’t identify with Bill Gates.

“What the…?” you ask. “Why is he talking about Bill Gates?” You see, Malcolm related a story during that radio interview. It was the story of little Billy Gates. In essence, it goes like this: back in the day, there were no PC’s. People fought…FOUGHT…for time on mainframe computers. If Joe Average wanted face time with a green screen, they’d have to take whatever sliver of time they could. For example, let’s say there was a 14-year-old boy named Bill Gates who wanted nothing more than to spend a few hours with a good, old-fashioned mainframe computer. Well, he would have to be happy with the 4 AM slot. So, young Billy Gates would have to wake up at 3:30, sneak out of his bedroom window, walk 2 miles to the University of Washington (I think), do clickety-clackety at the green screen for 4 hours, walk back home, sneak back into his room, and sleep until his mother kicked his butt out of bed.

That’s what Bill Gates did. He logged his 10,000 hours, and he loved every minute of it.

I can’t recall ever sneaking out of my bedroom window at 4 in the morning to go evaluate people’s performance or tell them what their “opportunity areas” were or let them know that they’d be getting an X% raise. I don’t recall hiking to the local corporate office to listen to people complain about their jobs or to catch flack from clients who feel like they have the right to treat you like crap just because they think they personally sign your paycheck. At 4 AM, chances are I was sneaking back INTO the house, and it wasn’t because I’d been studying all night.

If I was up at 4 AM it was because I was reading. Or writing. Or drawing.

Bill Gates logged his 10,000 hours. What made the difference, though, was his passion.

10,000 Hours? Add Passion. Therein Lies the Challenge.