Musings

Malcolm Gladwell (http://www.gladwell.com/) is a fascinating guy. He does a freakin’ fantastic interview, too. I had the good fortune of listening to a radio interview the other day with my fantastically intelligent wife during which Mr. Gladwell talked about the 10,000 Hour Rule.

Brace yourself…

It takes about 10,000 hours to become really good at something. The people who investigate such things, Malcolm Gladwell included, talked to doctors, musicians, artists…they studied historical figures, famous leaders, successful business-folk…and they all either related with precision or anecdotally recalled that the 10-year mark in their career/profession/art was when they hit their groove, heard their muse, felt it all come together. Malcolm did some math and came to the conclusion that the “10,000 Hour Rule” can equal the “10 Year Rule” if you put in about 4 hours a day, 7 days a week. That’s all 365 days of the year to become the bomb diggity at something.

My wife, being the bomb diggity herself (we’ve been married over 10 years, and I am DEFINITELY a more than 4 hour a day commitment), turned to me and said, “See? You’re great at your job!” She said that because I’ve been employed at the same place for over 10 years and have been in leadership for over 10 years, too. So, according to the 10,000 Hour Rule, I am great at what I do. I am an expert. I’m a pro. I am, according to The Rule, the bomb diggity.

But I’m not. There is something missing. And The Rule assumes that I’m hard-core practicing my leadership craft a full 4 hours a day with the intensity of a little Yo Yo Ma at the cello. But I’m not. I’d have to significantly up the ante and focus on refinement. That’s precisely what Marcus Buckingham asks you to do when you take the plunge and follow the Strong Week Plan process. Do more and more and more of what you love, of what you want to be good at, and design your weeks to bring you more of that thing. The more you do it, the better you will become at it.

10,000 hours? Awww, crap…

I’m going to cheat a little. I originally posted this elsewhere, but I was thinking about the power of believing and journaling and…tithing, of all things. Someone I consider a friend and role-model of sorts sent me a quote the other day having to do with “The Secret.” Basically, it spoke to tithing as a way of making room for more abundance in your life. It sounds screwy, I know. But it works. Seriously.

Anyway, I say “cheat” because I got to thinking about this post and figured I’d share it with a wider audience:

I have a “work journal” that I received about this time (October) in 2007. I went back and read my first entry, and I realized that I really haven’t written much in it. Ironically, as I read that first entry from 2007, I was sitting in the lobby of a hotel, the site of this year’s (2008) leadership off-site meeting for work. The “ironic” part comes in because I received the journal and wrote my first entry at the site of last year’s leadership off-site. As I read, I had an epiphany…or, rather, a continuation in a series of recent, related epiphanies. These epiphanies have brought me to this conclusion: that there is an Emotional Intelligence formula for so-called “successful people.” By “Emotional Intelligence,” I mean specifically the ability to monitor and react to one’s own emotional state, to understand the implication of one’s own emotions on one’s behavior, and to take actions to mitigate against the risks associated with said implications. It is also the ability to monitor, understand, and respond appropriately to the emotions of others. It occurred to me that journaling is a vital part of the formula. It is a vital part of the process of becoming self-aware.

It makes sense why so many people journal; you feel something happen inside you, in your heart, when you write an entry or read an entry you’ve written in the past. “Successful people” record thoughts to gain self-awareness specifically because of the power it yields; you hear them talk about it all the time. Journaling gives today a connection to the potential tomorrows. It highlights the interconnectedness of all actions, of all things. The linkage to what was real, to what is real in the moment, and to what will be real is a source of intense personal power. I can feel it, equally when I write as when I read what I have written. Giving your thoughts organization and form, connection to past, present, and future, in this way gives them that power. And self-awareness is one of the keys to increasing Emotional Intelligence. It’s all part of that formula.

Personal power can be used for anything. ANYTHING. “Successful people” use their personal power to create the outcomes they envision. Money is often the first key indicator of success for which many people strive. Ultimately, money falls short because it is easy to create money from thought. Money provides little comfort, little satisfaction. I did it recently and generated $2100 out of the blue in the course of 3 weeks. It allowed me to travel to New York for my father’s 69th birthday for a special trip to “Old Timer’s Day” at Yankee Stadium. My dad got to see Yogi Bera in “The Stadium” one last time. It also funded a trip back to Texas, the first since 2006. But money, for its own sake, was not the focus. My thoughts turned into money because I asked the Universe for something else, for something that money helped me get. In both cases, I asked the Universe for opportunities for which my heart sang. The Universe heard and provided. So, I gave 10% to charity. I did it again and $1000 found its way to me in December.

The point is this: take the time to give your thoughts form.For me, that means: journal. Journal to gain power. Journal to gain self-awareness. Journal to gain emotional intelligence. Journal to get what you want from the universe. Let all of your thoughts and actions be guided by compassion and love. They will serve you well.

You may even make a few bucks in the process.

At some point in our lives, usually in childhood, we are convinced that if our attempts at something do not conform to the parameters of conventional wisdom, then that attempt is not good enough. Daniel Pink had a wonderful (and heartbreaking) example in his book “A Whole New Brain.” He cited a study that posed a simple question to classrooms of students: who here is an artist? The study crossed age groups, starting in Kindergarten and ending in early high school.

The gist of it goes something like this: in Kindergarten, every child raised their hand when asked if they were artists; when they asked high school students, in general, nobody raised their hands. If they did, they tended to see themselves as outcasts, as non-normative. Art was transformed from a daily activity in which everyone eagerly participated to one in which only a select few participated and were looked at differently for doing so.

So…what the HELL happens to us? Who decides what is and is not art? Who reserves the right to judge? I don’t recall anybody with a freakin’ Ph. D. teaching me…well…ANYTHING when I was in high school. OK…fine: Dr. Bohuzlov. But, apart from her, I don’t know who qualified. Yet, here we all are, adults who dutifully conform to society’s norms, and not one of us willing to pick up a pencil and draw!

Or do we? Do we dare? How about a paint brush? Anyone pick one of those up? Maybe some modeling clay? Does anyone spin a potter’s wheel? Paper mache. Or plaster. Yes, there is a little Van Gogh in all of us…maybe Pollock…or Renoir. Or maybe there’s just a little kid who likes to doodle inside every Senior Manager out there. I’ve seen you, doodling in your notebook during a meeting. It helps you relax, concentrate. Your right brain is distracted while your left brain analyzes what’s being said. Or maybe you just like it. Maybe it makes you feel good.

Like when you were six.

It’s OK. That kid inside you, the one with the pencil…she’s just dying to get some daylight. Give her some sunshine. Let her draw until her little fingers get numb. Or maybe she wants to paint. Buy some Crayola modeling clay for her. She loves that stuff. Or Moon Sand. For Pete’s sake, just chew up a wad of gum and let her sculpt something…anything…!

She is good enough. YOU are good enough. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It may not be the most sought-after painting in the gallery, but it’s better than the one left locked inside your head. And if you have a child or know a child…tell them. Tell THEM that THEY are good enough. Never, ever tell them otherwise. Let them decide for themselves.

Go on, be that kid with the pencil again.

The opening fanfare to the original Star Wars movie is probably one of the most famous, most parodied, most imitated opening themes in pop culture.

By the way, I need to know when “pop culture” becomes “history.” Anybody who has lived through that transition with sanity intact, please let me know how it’s done.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, few people probably remember the film “I’m Gonna Git You Sucka.” At minimum, most people who remember that the film exists don’t recall the film in any great detail. I do. More than one scene, to be exact. I can even recite some of the poetry from the pimp pageant. One of the running gags in the film is that the main character has his own 70’s black-sploitation film theme song, complete with a band that follows him around everywhere playing the tune.

I got a birthday card from my witty, very sweet sister-in-law that says “A long, long time ago…” on the front cover. There are stars on the cover, as well, and it looks like the opening crawl from the original Star Wars movie. On the inside it says, “You were born.” Since she’s eight years older than me, the age jab is almost required. The best part of the card (apart from her handwritten note, of course), is that it actually plays the first 30 seconds or so of the opening fanfare from the movie. The card rocks on so many levels.

I am taking the card to work. I plan on opening it every morning when I get there. Why not begin each day with great fanfare? Why not have your own theme song to inject some spice and energy into your day? So what if I have to borrow John Williams’ fantastic score? Not a problem. The point is simply this: I deserve to begin each day feeling like a million bucks. I can rely on meditation or self-examination or ritual to get me started in a positive manner each day. And I can also rely on failing to get off on the right foot at least a few times each month. What difference does that make, though, if I have that stirring musical number to get me jazzed?

Do something exciting for yourself every day. Don’t rely on anyone else to adjust your compass to North each morning. It’s all about you, and it’s up to you. Just find a way to make it special.

I can look forward to my own opening fanfare.

This weekend presented a few more transcendental nuggets upon which to ruminate.

I went on a date with my lovely wife, Lynn, last night. We saw “Gran Torino” and went to dinner afterwards. There’s a moment in the movie where Clint Eastwood is faced with a startling reality: the focus of his life has been more about death than life. It’s a profound moment where you see deep inside a character who is very obviously meant to be a reflection of the potential in all of us to lose track of Living with a capital “L”. What is the difference between living and merely existing? I suspect that answer is unique to each of us.

Mike Tomlin is the youngest head coach to ever lead a team to the Super Bowl. He is also now the youngest head coach to ever lead a team to a Super Bowl victory. My favorite quote from him: “Steelers football is 60 minutes long.” That was a pretty cool line. It’s equal parts cheesy hyperbole and organizational mission. Think about it. For Mike and his team, every minute counts. Nobody PLANS on giving up, but I still think his was a bold statement. He’ll be held accountable for that one next season.

Clint Eastwood in “Gran Torino” and Steelers’ head coach Mike Tomlin to me are both reflections of what we each carry inside of ourselves: the potential to forget how to live and the audacity to believe that we can.

I don’t know how old Clint Eastwood is, but he’s logged quite a few hours on this planet. Mike Tomlin is 36. He’s my age…for now. I’ll be older than him shortly. Therein lies the final nugget to consider: to paraphrase Master Yoda, “age matters not.” The ability and desire to learn keeps life flowing into and through us. An open mind affords us the benefit of learning from anyone who is willing to teach. Clint, Mike, my own kids…age matters not. Keep the lessons coming, and I’ll always be a student.

These are some things you learn during Super Bowl Weekend.

First month: gone. Already? Hard to believe.

A lot has happened in one month. A lot will happen next month.

My kids are running around like maniacs downstairs. Someone cries every five minutes. Then, they start laughing again. That’s kind of how life goes. Things happen, we laugh, we cry, and we keep on going. At some point in time we die, but laughing, crying, and going on will continue.

Just like the months.

So, I try not to get caught up in the names of the months or the days of those months. They simply are. Each one is what it is the day that it is, and tomorrow will be no different.

I find that natural simplicity beautiful.

P’U. The Uncarved Block.

It is a core concept of Taoism. In its simplicity, the Uncarved Block is filled with natural power. Nature is simple. Even complexity in nature is simple; all things serve the natural order. What is simpler than that?

When we take away too much of that simplicity, things lose their natural power. As an artist, to me there are few things more magical than a blank canvas, a set of freshly sharpened pencils, or the smell of a newly opened can of paint.

The end of a project brings satisfaction, no doubt. But do not sit too long in admiration of your handiwork. If you do, you miss the next opportunity. Instead, smile, be happy with what you have done, learn a lesson or two, and then set out a fresh set of newly-sharpened pencils.

As a being, there are few things more invigorating to me than the potential inherent in every new opportunity. So here I am, full of P’U. So to speak.

P’U. The Uncarved Block.

Where does credibility come from? I have some ideas.

Credibility is granted by one person to another. I think it is that simple. We all agree that the letters “MD” after a name give an individual instant credibility. From time to time a horror story about someone impersonating a doctor hits the headlines, but that’s really not the norm. Still, the letters alone don’t make a person a worthy doctor. There’s more to it. There are several criteria involved, and we all might apply them differently. The point is that credibility is partially subjective, therefore, it is granted. It is not an inherent characteristic of a person. It is a gift, and it really should be a crime to abuse that gift. But it’s not, so people do.

See, credibility is not hard to acquire. For example, you’re reading this post for a reason. If you came for just the title, you’re probably disappointed by now. That’s OK. If you came because you like the way I write or you find truth in what I say or you think I am an arrogant ass and you get a kick out of rolling your eyes at me, the fact still remains that you came. You came, you stayed, and you are still reading. So, you’ve granted me credibility as someone who has something to say. At minimum, I write well enough to hold your interest.

That is a form of credibility that I have acquired from you. I can build on that credibility by continuing to post witty, informative, thought-provoking snippets for you to read. Regardless, it is a gift that you have given to me, and I take it very seriously.

We all have instant credibility with people: at work we might have it because we give good presentations; with children we might have it just because we’re taller than they are; with our spouses we might have it because they think we’re really smart. No matter how it is that we come by the gift, the most important thing is to remember that it was given in good conscience, in good faith, in the hope that we might positively influence another person’s life. That is a huge responsibility, but it’s one that shouldn’t be taken lightly.

Give it to me, and I will use it compassionately.