Linkedin can be a wonderful tool to reconnect with old coworkers who you haven't seen in years. It's always interesting to me to find out where people ended up, what they're doing now and how they've moved over their careers.
However, Linkedin can be a terrible tool to remind you of the state of your professional life.
In casually reviewing the employment histories of a number of former colleagues, I was somewhat shocked to discover that they have all advanced - significantly - in their careers, while I have essentially remained where I was.
Yes, I understand that I took a hiatus to start The Firm. Yes, I understand that not all companies manage or promote the same way. Still, I was shocked to see to the level that some folks have advanced - while I continue to hold the title and responsibility that I held almost 10 years ago when I got promoted to my current title.
Initially I'd ask the question why this has happened: what have they done that I haven't done, what have they mastered that I haven't, why, why, why?
But then a second question comes to mind: is the reason I haven't advanced is simply because this is not where I am most productive?
I've been grappling with the concept more and more that I don't like managing people and I'm not a great delegator. It's not that I don't necessarily dislike my industry (although it is not my heart), but rather that I am a doer liking to understand how things work, not a delegator leaving such things to others. It bothers me a little bit, because (at least in corporate America) doers don't eventually rise to the top. Delegators do.
If I wanted to rise to the top. That's the second issue, I suppose. I've really no want - or desire - to manage large numbers of people. I like working with people I enjoy, but it is more of a primus inter pares relationship - first among equals - rather than a hierarchic reporting structure. I want to counsel and encourage people as friends, not review and direct them as a manager.
Two subtle differences - but differences that may explain why I have not advanced more than I have.
It impacts a lot, I suppose. One thing definitively is where I am now - do I continue this stepping stone attempt across the industry to be where I've always been? Or do I acknowledge these as facts and change my career, dealing with the fact that money (an evil, but a necessary one) is going to be impacted by this?
First lesson of getting out of a hole: Stop digging.
Friday, May 06, 2011
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Working with Love and Distaste
"If you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work." - Kahlil Gibran
What does it mean to work with love? I can think of at least two different ways:
1) We work with love when we love what we do. Of course, there will always be those days where things go less smoothly or there are items that we don't like doing in the midst of what we do like - but on the whole, we enjoy our jobs. We feel a deep connection between what is the core of our beings and what we do to earn a living. The work flows smoothly out of our souls, like fresh vanilla frosting over a warm cake.
2) We work with love when we work with love in our hearts. When we love our coworkers, when we express love to our customers and those dependent on our services, when we respond not in anger or bitterness but in grace and kindness, when arriving at work we are prepared to spread happiness and joy through what we do and how we do it, we work with love.
And what of distaste?
1) We work with distaste when we do not love what we do, when the job has become a heavy burden not just to perform, but to be present at. When we have reached the point of listing our 400 tasks and realizing the percentage of completion never really drops, when we have our time carefully mapped not because we are seeking greater productivity but because we are protecting against accusations, when we toil at something that causes us time and again to come against our basic personal convictions and find reasons to override them, when what we do has no connection at all with who we are or what we feel is important - in all of these, we work with distaste.
2) We work with distaste when we have bitterness or anger in our hearts. When seeing our coworkers raises our defenses, when our manager coming into our office does not bring the hope of a useful exchange but only a listing of things which must be done or ways we have not performed, when we arrive in the morning already prepared for another day battle - in all of these, we have bitterness or anger which has moved from our jobs into our hearts.
So which then is better in the long run, to prevent the acid of our bitterness from eating out our soul?
What does it mean to work with love? I can think of at least two different ways:
1) We work with love when we love what we do. Of course, there will always be those days where things go less smoothly or there are items that we don't like doing in the midst of what we do like - but on the whole, we enjoy our jobs. We feel a deep connection between what is the core of our beings and what we do to earn a living. The work flows smoothly out of our souls, like fresh vanilla frosting over a warm cake.
2) We work with love when we work with love in our hearts. When we love our coworkers, when we express love to our customers and those dependent on our services, when we respond not in anger or bitterness but in grace and kindness, when arriving at work we are prepared to spread happiness and joy through what we do and how we do it, we work with love.
And what of distaste?
1) We work with distaste when we do not love what we do, when the job has become a heavy burden not just to perform, but to be present at. When we have reached the point of listing our 400 tasks and realizing the percentage of completion never really drops, when we have our time carefully mapped not because we are seeking greater productivity but because we are protecting against accusations, when we toil at something that causes us time and again to come against our basic personal convictions and find reasons to override them, when what we do has no connection at all with who we are or what we feel is important - in all of these, we work with distaste.
2) We work with distaste when we have bitterness or anger in our hearts. When seeing our coworkers raises our defenses, when our manager coming into our office does not bring the hope of a useful exchange but only a listing of things which must be done or ways we have not performed, when we arrive in the morning already prepared for another day battle - in all of these, we have bitterness or anger which has moved from our jobs into our hearts.
So which then is better in the long run, to prevent the acid of our bitterness from eating out our soul?
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
Physical Health, Mental Health
I am becoming reminded every day about the importance of physical health to mental health.
I've never been much of an athlete - my body type tends toward "grounded", and my co-ordination has never been the best (and by best, I mean not co-ordinated at all). Those workouts and sports that I have enjoyed the best are those which can be done individually: running, weights, Iaido. However, I suffer from the unwillingness to persist in anything for a long period of time.
However, as I move into this period of seeming blandness and confusion, I am coming to grips with the fact that my physical health can significantly impact my mental health.
1) Sleep: I've been sleep deprived for years - not only by habit, but by choice. For years I've lived on 6 hours of sleep at night. Ironically, I've not been feeling mentally sharp for years. I wonder if there's a connection. Making the commitment to 7 hours a night, even if it "cuts out" certain activities, is something I need to do.
2) Exercise: Never one to regularly exercise, I'm reminded (as I've started running this week) of how good I feel after I work out. Now that I have a schedule change, it's the perfect time to start incorporating more of that into my life.
3) Diet: This is the worst. I love to eat - more specifically, I love to eat things that are not quite the best for me. However, given a number of things (including my birthday) it's time to start making some of those lifestyle changes I keep thinking I should.
Maybe I can't shake blandness unilaterally with physical health changes, but at least I can try full out and see what happens.
I've never been much of an athlete - my body type tends toward "grounded", and my co-ordination has never been the best (and by best, I mean not co-ordinated at all). Those workouts and sports that I have enjoyed the best are those which can be done individually: running, weights, Iaido. However, I suffer from the unwillingness to persist in anything for a long period of time.
However, as I move into this period of seeming blandness and confusion, I am coming to grips with the fact that my physical health can significantly impact my mental health.
1) Sleep: I've been sleep deprived for years - not only by habit, but by choice. For years I've lived on 6 hours of sleep at night. Ironically, I've not been feeling mentally sharp for years. I wonder if there's a connection. Making the commitment to 7 hours a night, even if it "cuts out" certain activities, is something I need to do.
2) Exercise: Never one to regularly exercise, I'm reminded (as I've started running this week) of how good I feel after I work out. Now that I have a schedule change, it's the perfect time to start incorporating more of that into my life.
3) Diet: This is the worst. I love to eat - more specifically, I love to eat things that are not quite the best for me. However, given a number of things (including my birthday) it's time to start making some of those lifestyle changes I keep thinking I should.
Maybe I can't shake blandness unilaterally with physical health changes, but at least I can try full out and see what happens.
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
Too Busy
I'm feeling too busy.
It's an odd feeling because I feel caught two ways: on the one hand I have never felt like I am really doing less; on the other, I simply seem to have no time and seem to be accomplishing nothing.
This is somewhat difficult - or seems to be - in the context of trying to reform and reorient my life. One would assume that effectiveness is a prerequisite for change.
I feel caught on a hamster wheel of effort: the more I try and do things, the more I find I am running to try and do things, yet I seem to accomplish nothing. I don't know that I have ever felt less effective in my life.
The only "effective" thing it seems I've done is in the realm of my career - and even now that I'm tracking tasks and priorities and time at work, I am realizing how ineffective I am there as well. The list keeps growing but there are still only so many hours in a day to accomplish anything.
I would say that I would do less, but to do that would be to (in theory) surrender the only things that I potentially enjoy - writing, gardening, music, family, exercise, reading - for that indeterminate block of "Time", which I have no guarantee would be used any better than what it is used for now.
How do I find zest and zeal again? How do I feel more effective and less busy?
It's an odd feeling because I feel caught two ways: on the one hand I have never felt like I am really doing less; on the other, I simply seem to have no time and seem to be accomplishing nothing.
This is somewhat difficult - or seems to be - in the context of trying to reform and reorient my life. One would assume that effectiveness is a prerequisite for change.
I feel caught on a hamster wheel of effort: the more I try and do things, the more I find I am running to try and do things, yet I seem to accomplish nothing. I don't know that I have ever felt less effective in my life.
The only "effective" thing it seems I've done is in the realm of my career - and even now that I'm tracking tasks and priorities and time at work, I am realizing how ineffective I am there as well. The list keeps growing but there are still only so many hours in a day to accomplish anything.
I would say that I would do less, but to do that would be to (in theory) surrender the only things that I potentially enjoy - writing, gardening, music, family, exercise, reading - for that indeterminate block of "Time", which I have no guarantee would be used any better than what it is used for now.
How do I find zest and zeal again? How do I feel more effective and less busy?
Monday, May 02, 2011
Change Your Number and Career
Changing cell phone numbers.
This is one of the inconveniences of the modern age. It's a struggle - the longer you have the number, the more people have it and the more difficult it becomes. You weigh the decision out in your mind more and more - is changing the service worth it, is getting a new phone worth it? Yes, I'd like to not have to type three times to get one letter, but does the hassle of changing over compensate for it (I've had the same number since 2004)?
You crawl through your address list, finding the people you need to contact with your new number. References on the web such as resumes? Those will have to be updated too. Don't forget your voice mail directing everyone to the new number as well.
Finally though, after all the contacting and uploading and downloading, you still have two phones and two numbers in your possession. At some point, you simply have to shut the first one down.
And then I suddenly realized it is the same in real life with a career.
The longer you have a career, the more experience you have in it and the more inertia you have in not making a change. You weigh the decision in your mind - is getting a new career worth it, or can you make do a few more years on the old (the answer here, I think will always eventually be no. Careers you don't like are the same as old cars: at some time, they will simply give out).
Updating is even more difficult than the phone: you have to retool your resume, inventory your skills and resubmit them, change your references on the web, redirect the very substance of your life into a new channel.
And yet, after all that retooling and searching and gearing up, you still have the current career and potential career in hand. Hopefully you've done your homework and are ready. But you still have the two careers.
But like the phone, at some point you just have to shut one down.
The phone I think I can handle. Can I do the same with my career?
This is one of the inconveniences of the modern age. It's a struggle - the longer you have the number, the more people have it and the more difficult it becomes. You weigh the decision out in your mind more and more - is changing the service worth it, is getting a new phone worth it? Yes, I'd like to not have to type three times to get one letter, but does the hassle of changing over compensate for it (I've had the same number since 2004)?
You crawl through your address list, finding the people you need to contact with your new number. References on the web such as resumes? Those will have to be updated too. Don't forget your voice mail directing everyone to the new number as well.
Finally though, after all the contacting and uploading and downloading, you still have two phones and two numbers in your possession. At some point, you simply have to shut the first one down.
And then I suddenly realized it is the same in real life with a career.
The longer you have a career, the more experience you have in it and the more inertia you have in not making a change. You weigh the decision in your mind - is getting a new career worth it, or can you make do a few more years on the old (the answer here, I think will always eventually be no. Careers you don't like are the same as old cars: at some time, they will simply give out).
Updating is even more difficult than the phone: you have to retool your resume, inventory your skills and resubmit them, change your references on the web, redirect the very substance of your life into a new channel.
And yet, after all that retooling and searching and gearing up, you still have the current career and potential career in hand. Hopefully you've done your homework and are ready. But you still have the two careers.
But like the phone, at some point you just have to shut one down.
The phone I think I can handle. Can I do the same with my career?
Friday, April 29, 2011
Passed
Have you ever been haunted by the feeling that your time has run?
You suddenly look around and realize that the options you always thought were there - dreamed were there - are no longer there? That you have apparently been conducting a dialogue of the deaf with yourself (otherwise known as a monologue)about the future and its possibilities?
Walls that have been carefully and silently constructed over time - some by yourself, some by the simple passage of time itself - reveal themselves to you the moment you smack into them with a running start. The garden paths that once were there leading invitingly into the larger world seem mysteriously overgrown with thorns, leaving the one you are on the only seeming choice to move forward.
In some cases they may still be options - but only buried beneath the weight of leaves and vines, needing to be cut out brutally to move forward. In other cases, the overgrowth is such that you can never follow that path again. It is, simply, gone.
And you suddenly feel inside that perhaps things really have moved on; that life and possibilities, like canned goods, are sometimes put back when the recipe changes - or the expiration date has passed.
You suddenly look around and realize that the options you always thought were there - dreamed were there - are no longer there? That you have apparently been conducting a dialogue of the deaf with yourself (otherwise known as a monologue)about the future and its possibilities?
Walls that have been carefully and silently constructed over time - some by yourself, some by the simple passage of time itself - reveal themselves to you the moment you smack into them with a running start. The garden paths that once were there leading invitingly into the larger world seem mysteriously overgrown with thorns, leaving the one you are on the only seeming choice to move forward.
In some cases they may still be options - but only buried beneath the weight of leaves and vines, needing to be cut out brutally to move forward. In other cases, the overgrowth is such that you can never follow that path again. It is, simply, gone.
And you suddenly feel inside that perhaps things really have moved on; that life and possibilities, like canned goods, are sometimes put back when the recipe changes - or the expiration date has passed.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Print. Staple. Stamp.
A moment of self-clarity yesterday.
Due to a specific request at work, I set aside other tasks on which I was working and moved directly to fill it immediately. As I sat there working off a list for which I was preparing, I suddenly realized that I was sitting there printing copies, stapling them, and then stamping them with an "uncontrolled copy" stamp.
I was suddenly struck by the fact that this was what 7 years of college, 2 degrees, and 13 years of industry experience had gotten me: administrative work.
On the one hand, this is the critical error with any sort of thinking that discusses the concept of the "working manager": given the option between leading/executing and doing work, the work will always get done at the cost of leading because while many people say they want leaders, they insist all the more that the work is completed. This becomes extras difficult when goals are set around leadership tasks.
On the other hand, it is a good reminder of this season I seem to be undergoing about re-examining my life and what I am doing and where I am going. The reality is that I want - crave to do more than just sit at a desk stapling and printing. I long to do something that makes a difference somewhere, in something - not just preparing piles of paperwork to be looked at once and then moved on.
On the third hand, it's a good reminder as well that education and experience are not as relevant as I might think in the career market. Ofttimes things come to the doers, not the people who with the education and experience happen to be there.
So here's the thought for today: how do I find something that executes leadership, makes a difference, and is a "doer" job rather than requiring education and experience as the gatekeeper?
Due to a specific request at work, I set aside other tasks on which I was working and moved directly to fill it immediately. As I sat there working off a list for which I was preparing, I suddenly realized that I was sitting there printing copies, stapling them, and then stamping them with an "uncontrolled copy" stamp.
I was suddenly struck by the fact that this was what 7 years of college, 2 degrees, and 13 years of industry experience had gotten me: administrative work.
On the one hand, this is the critical error with any sort of thinking that discusses the concept of the "working manager": given the option between leading/executing and doing work, the work will always get done at the cost of leading because while many people say they want leaders, they insist all the more that the work is completed. This becomes extras difficult when goals are set around leadership tasks.
On the other hand, it is a good reminder of this season I seem to be undergoing about re-examining my life and what I am doing and where I am going. The reality is that I want - crave to do more than just sit at a desk stapling and printing. I long to do something that makes a difference somewhere, in something - not just preparing piles of paperwork to be looked at once and then moved on.
On the third hand, it's a good reminder as well that education and experience are not as relevant as I might think in the career market. Ofttimes things come to the doers, not the people who with the education and experience happen to be there.
So here's the thought for today: how do I find something that executes leadership, makes a difference, and is a "doer" job rather than requiring education and experience as the gatekeeper?
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Paths
A surprising overflow of emotion last night.
I was walking through the course of events with regards to my employment and the fact that I often feel disconnected with what it is I am actually doing, that this is not really what I had ever intended to do. When questioned, I went back 12 years to 1999, when I had applied to my synod to enter seminary - and been turned down.
I am much more emotional about the issues than I had anticipated.
The whole thing is made a bit more real and poignant by my birthday. I look back and see the distance between what that desire was and what career life now is and just wonder.
There is nothing more painful in life than to think you are called to something and be told by others "no".
Life - perhaps my own life - turns into a series of denial, of either trying to prove them wrong (by investigating other routes to the same goal and falling back) or rejecting the very suggestions that they made because, if nothing else, I can obstinate and stubborn (the suggestion at the time was a year of counseling and Ph.D. studies.)
Until one looks up 12 years later and finds one's self in a career and a direction that seems neither pleasant nor sustainable.
There are moments - and this is one of them - where I feel completely lost. That option is no longer open to me, but neither (I think) is the alternate one which was suggested at the time. The current one is not one which can continue indefinitely but neither has the path forward - a path which I think is different, but I simply can not see it.
Is it stubborness that kept me where I am and keeps me here, an ignoring of what the pro-offered will of God was or is? Or is it that this has been the path of God, and I am simply too weak to see it?
I was walking through the course of events with regards to my employment and the fact that I often feel disconnected with what it is I am actually doing, that this is not really what I had ever intended to do. When questioned, I went back 12 years to 1999, when I had applied to my synod to enter seminary - and been turned down.
I am much more emotional about the issues than I had anticipated.
The whole thing is made a bit more real and poignant by my birthday. I look back and see the distance between what that desire was and what career life now is and just wonder.
There is nothing more painful in life than to think you are called to something and be told by others "no".
Life - perhaps my own life - turns into a series of denial, of either trying to prove them wrong (by investigating other routes to the same goal and falling back) or rejecting the very suggestions that they made because, if nothing else, I can obstinate and stubborn (the suggestion at the time was a year of counseling and Ph.D. studies.)
Until one looks up 12 years later and finds one's self in a career and a direction that seems neither pleasant nor sustainable.
There are moments - and this is one of them - where I feel completely lost. That option is no longer open to me, but neither (I think) is the alternate one which was suggested at the time. The current one is not one which can continue indefinitely but neither has the path forward - a path which I think is different, but I simply can not see it.
Is it stubborness that kept me where I am and keeps me here, an ignoring of what the pro-offered will of God was or is? Or is it that this has been the path of God, and I am simply too weak to see it?
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Focus
"The end result of successfully building alignment is to get as much mass at the critical point as possible." - Steven W. Michaelson, Sun Tzu for Execution
"Concentrate on a single goal, a single task, and beat it into submission." - Robert Greene, The 48 Laws of Power
"Major definite purpose: This is the one goal, the attainment of which will have the greatest positive impact on your life. You should know what this goal is and be working on it every single day." - Brian Tracy, Victory
"We can form a single united body at one place, while the enemy must scatter his forces at ten places." - Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Do I try and do too much?
There is a fine line between becoming a Renaissance Man (a dying art in this era of specialization) and having so many interests that one never becomes skilled at any of them. One gives you a command of multiple subjects and skills which can be used in a variety of situations and gives one a depth of knowledge to draw on for any situation, the other a smattering of skills which never lead anywhere.
The counterpoint of this is focus: laser-like focus (as Brian Tracy would say) on one objective until that objective is completed. Of course, not just any objective, but that objective which will most impact your life. Focus on the wrong objective simply gives one an expertise that has no impact on your life.
In my thoughts about coals and goals, I am hit by the fact that there are so many coals in my firepit right now - coals going back to well before high school in some cases, coals of things I did once and never really did again, coals of things I thought I would do but never started up.
On that list that I am working on (roles; yes I know, I still need to complete it), what are the roles (and goals) I identified? Are there too many? Or is it that I have not decided which to focus on first?
The Principle of the Mass (Brian Tracy) states that we need to concentrate combat power at the decisive place and time. What are my decisive places and times?
"Concentrate on a single goal, a single task, and beat it into submission." - Robert Greene, The 48 Laws of Power
"Major definite purpose: This is the one goal, the attainment of which will have the greatest positive impact on your life. You should know what this goal is and be working on it every single day." - Brian Tracy, Victory
"We can form a single united body at one place, while the enemy must scatter his forces at ten places." - Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Do I try and do too much?
There is a fine line between becoming a Renaissance Man (a dying art in this era of specialization) and having so many interests that one never becomes skilled at any of them. One gives you a command of multiple subjects and skills which can be used in a variety of situations and gives one a depth of knowledge to draw on for any situation, the other a smattering of skills which never lead anywhere.
The counterpoint of this is focus: laser-like focus (as Brian Tracy would say) on one objective until that objective is completed. Of course, not just any objective, but that objective which will most impact your life. Focus on the wrong objective simply gives one an expertise that has no impact on your life.
In my thoughts about coals and goals, I am hit by the fact that there are so many coals in my firepit right now - coals going back to well before high school in some cases, coals of things I did once and never really did again, coals of things I thought I would do but never started up.
On that list that I am working on (roles; yes I know, I still need to complete it), what are the roles (and goals) I identified? Are there too many? Or is it that I have not decided which to focus on first?
The Principle of the Mass (Brian Tracy) states that we need to concentrate combat power at the decisive place and time. What are my decisive places and times?
Monday, April 25, 2011
Coals
It feels as if my life is a series of coals right now.
Coals? Yes, coals - smouldering embers of life and purpose, having exhausted the fuel which created them.
It feels like so much of my life is essentially going through the motions at this point: I do the activities I have always done because that's what I do; I have the dreams and goals that I have always have, yet seem scarcely closer to them that I did when I started them; so many of my relationships seem to be products of habit rather than engaged.
And now I sit here is the darkening night, looking at the coals that were once my life.
This strikes me as very odd, having just gone through the season of Easter, with the reminder of Christ being raised from the dead and the gift of new life. I hardly feel any of that right now - or it is acknowledged as a truth, a truth which is not impactful on my life in a meaningful way.
So how do I breathe the coals back into life? Or do I - should I just dump the fire totally and go off to set another one? But if I set another one, I need to secure fuel create the fire - where does that fuel (goals, dreams, purpose)come from?
Coals? Yes, coals - smouldering embers of life and purpose, having exhausted the fuel which created them.
It feels like so much of my life is essentially going through the motions at this point: I do the activities I have always done because that's what I do; I have the dreams and goals that I have always have, yet seem scarcely closer to them that I did when I started them; so many of my relationships seem to be products of habit rather than engaged.
And now I sit here is the darkening night, looking at the coals that were once my life.
This strikes me as very odd, having just gone through the season of Easter, with the reminder of Christ being raised from the dead and the gift of new life. I hardly feel any of that right now - or it is acknowledged as a truth, a truth which is not impactful on my life in a meaningful way.
So how do I breathe the coals back into life? Or do I - should I just dump the fire totally and go off to set another one? But if I set another one, I need to secure fuel create the fire - where does that fuel (goals, dreams, purpose)come from?
Friday, April 22, 2011
Rabbit Escape
Sitting at the computer this morning, plunking at the keys, then plunking back. Nothing really seems to be catching fire.
Out of the back of my attention, I hear the sounds of scratching and hopping and digging. They stop, then they start again. Finally, thinking it's just more than the morning bunny hop, I get up and go out to the living room to look.
Yup. Snowball the rabbit has escaped again.
I apparently once again failed to completely click the lock on his cage. He has learned that if he puts his weight on the front and the lock isn't locked, he can force it open with body weight. And out he goes.
When I turn the light on, I find him around the other two rabbits' (Midnight and Bella) cages, rubbing his scent glands on their cages to say "Hi". The other rabbits are in the corners of their cages sniffing back, while a circle of rabbit pellets is around the whole cage area, a sort of natural police line tape at the scene of the crime.
I call to Snowball and he comes over and gets picked up. I hold him and pet him for a few minutes - he's obviously in an okay mood, because he sits in my lap, closes his eyes a bit, and makes the low chattering noise with his teeth which in rabbit language means "I'm happy!". After this, I pick him up and back to his cage he goes while I get out the broom and sweep around to collect the droppings for garden.
As I put the broom back, I am suddenly struck by the fact that Snowball never gives up. He always tries the cage in hopes that it will spring open. Why have I lost that energy in my own life, that "try and try again" motive that keeps trying even though you've failed every other time? Is it that I have less energy and determination that a rabbit? Or is it that I have simply learned to give up, that whether or not the cage door is locked, I have come to accept that the door is locked - whether or not it is?
Suddenly, I realize, I may have something to write about.
Out of the back of my attention, I hear the sounds of scratching and hopping and digging...
Out of the back of my attention, I hear the sounds of scratching and hopping and digging. They stop, then they start again. Finally, thinking it's just more than the morning bunny hop, I get up and go out to the living room to look.
Yup. Snowball the rabbit has escaped again.
I apparently once again failed to completely click the lock on his cage. He has learned that if he puts his weight on the front and the lock isn't locked, he can force it open with body weight. And out he goes.
When I turn the light on, I find him around the other two rabbits' (Midnight and Bella) cages, rubbing his scent glands on their cages to say "Hi". The other rabbits are in the corners of their cages sniffing back, while a circle of rabbit pellets is around the whole cage area, a sort of natural police line tape at the scene of the crime.
I call to Snowball and he comes over and gets picked up. I hold him and pet him for a few minutes - he's obviously in an okay mood, because he sits in my lap, closes his eyes a bit, and makes the low chattering noise with his teeth which in rabbit language means "I'm happy!". After this, I pick him up and back to his cage he goes while I get out the broom and sweep around to collect the droppings for garden.
As I put the broom back, I am suddenly struck by the fact that Snowball never gives up. He always tries the cage in hopes that it will spring open. Why have I lost that energy in my own life, that "try and try again" motive that keeps trying even though you've failed every other time? Is it that I have less energy and determination that a rabbit? Or is it that I have simply learned to give up, that whether or not the cage door is locked, I have come to accept that the door is locked - whether or not it is?
Suddenly, I realize, I may have something to write about.
Out of the back of my attention, I hear the sounds of scratching and hopping and digging...
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Lead Your Dreams
"Don't just follow your dreams. Lead them! - Sally Hogshead
What a remarkable thought. One of those life changing thoughts, the kind that actually makes a difference in your life.
Think about it. To follow something is actively passive. When the dream stops, we stop. When the dream moves, we move. When the dream ambles through country lanes and doesn't seem to be going towards the final goal, we too amble along, undoubtedly frustrated that the dream is not moving faster but accepting of the fact because, after all, dreams are to be followed. Never question the path of a dream.
But the reality is that dreams are really only inner reflections of ourselves. The dreams exist because we have brought life into them. So the (perhaps logical) question is how do we follow something that doesn't exist without our active involvement in making it exist? In reality, if we suddenly abandoned the dream, it would cease to exist. We end up following a ghost which we believe is a life destiny leading us but in reality was a construct we imbued with life in the first place.
Unless.
Unless we do as Hogshead suggests and lead our dreams.
Would this make our dreams any less powerful? Not at all. Does this make them any less real? No - because as products of our thoughts, they are no more or less real being leading or being followed.
What this does do is that it recognizes them for what they are - our aspirations, our goals - and what they can inspire us to, but acknowledges the fact that a dream is no more likely to lead us to success than a wish is. The reality is that the dream will only come true through effort and work, not be simply following.
So bring your dreams along - absolutely. You'll need their inspiring talk and laughter and occasional jokes along the journey to help you. Just understand that a dream is a companion - an inspiring one - but never a guide.
Like many other things in life, that is a role only you can fulfill.
What a remarkable thought. One of those life changing thoughts, the kind that actually makes a difference in your life.
Think about it. To follow something is actively passive. When the dream stops, we stop. When the dream moves, we move. When the dream ambles through country lanes and doesn't seem to be going towards the final goal, we too amble along, undoubtedly frustrated that the dream is not moving faster but accepting of the fact because, after all, dreams are to be followed. Never question the path of a dream.
But the reality is that dreams are really only inner reflections of ourselves. The dreams exist because we have brought life into them. So the (perhaps logical) question is how do we follow something that doesn't exist without our active involvement in making it exist? In reality, if we suddenly abandoned the dream, it would cease to exist. We end up following a ghost which we believe is a life destiny leading us but in reality was a construct we imbued with life in the first place.
Unless.
Unless we do as Hogshead suggests and lead our dreams.
Would this make our dreams any less powerful? Not at all. Does this make them any less real? No - because as products of our thoughts, they are no more or less real being leading or being followed.
What this does do is that it recognizes them for what they are - our aspirations, our goals - and what they can inspire us to, but acknowledges the fact that a dream is no more likely to lead us to success than a wish is. The reality is that the dream will only come true through effort and work, not be simply following.
So bring your dreams along - absolutely. You'll need their inspiring talk and laughter and occasional jokes along the journey to help you. Just understand that a dream is a companion - an inspiring one - but never a guide.
Like many other things in life, that is a role only you can fulfill.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Out of Synch
Yesterday it was brought to my attention that an aspect of my life is not in synch with what it should be. It's one of those moments when, of course, you believe that you are doing everything appropriately - and then someone tells you you are not really doing it at all.
(Yes, I'm being cryptic. Live with it).
This is one of those moments which some author would cheerfully describe as an "Opportunity for Self Discovery and Improvement". I assure you, if this is an opportunity, it feels nothing of the sort.
You go through a series of stages during the discussion: first denial ("That's not really true"), then anger ("They're mischaracterizing the behavior"), then bargaining ("Well, maybe some of it is true"), then depression ("I suppose it's all true. I'm wretched and there's no hope of improving"), and finally, acceptance ("I have to deal with it, no matter what my perceptions"). The five stages of death, conveniently compressed into a two hour period.
The problem is, I don't really know what to do about it.
To fix the problem as it is being suggested is not really to fix the problem - it's to meet the prescribed formula for resolving the problem. The difficulty is that in doing so, I will simply become something that I don't really thing that I am - but maybe that itself is part of the problem. On the other hand, it cannot be ignored or pushed aside - that leads to consequences which are more severe than the initial problem itself, and there is a time limit.
Which leaves me here in this limbo of the souls, trying to figure out where the third path is in the face of only two branches.
(Yes, I'm being cryptic. Live with it).
This is one of those moments which some author would cheerfully describe as an "Opportunity for Self Discovery and Improvement". I assure you, if this is an opportunity, it feels nothing of the sort.
You go through a series of stages during the discussion: first denial ("That's not really true"), then anger ("They're mischaracterizing the behavior"), then bargaining ("Well, maybe some of it is true"), then depression ("I suppose it's all true. I'm wretched and there's no hope of improving"), and finally, acceptance ("I have to deal with it, no matter what my perceptions"). The five stages of death, conveniently compressed into a two hour period.
The problem is, I don't really know what to do about it.
To fix the problem as it is being suggested is not really to fix the problem - it's to meet the prescribed formula for resolving the problem. The difficulty is that in doing so, I will simply become something that I don't really thing that I am - but maybe that itself is part of the problem. On the other hand, it cannot be ignored or pushed aside - that leads to consequences which are more severe than the initial problem itself, and there is a time limit.
Which leaves me here in this limbo of the souls, trying to figure out where the third path is in the face of only two branches.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Adrift
Feeling lost in my life this week.
This schedule change for work has begun a process whereby everything has fallen into disarray. Part of the disruption of the schedule is that the carefully constructed way that I run my life has become completely unhinged. My body is trying to react to one schedule, my mind to another.
The schedule change has affected the way I work as well. Seemingly, this thin line has started to come between myself and my reports as our schedules now don't overlap as they once did. Suddenly, that difference between "bosses" and "workers" which I have seen on other places (and participated in) has happened to me as well.
Within myself, I seem to suffering from a personal sense of inertia that I wrote about yesterday. Simply put, I'm not really feeling the time or energy or enthusiasm to really do much of anything.
The problem is that I cannot tell: do I find myself bound in by fear? By depression? Or by some third thing that I cannot name?
I feel that I am flailing in my life - flailing for direction, flailing for traction, even (to some extent) flailing for meaning itself. Every direction seems to lead nowhere, every effort seems to peter out, every activity seems to be empty upon completion.
If there is a direction to my life at this point, a tack across the wind towards a distant continent - I simply cannot see it at this point. I just see miles and miles of empty sea with only a harbor I had known receding in the distance.
This schedule change for work has begun a process whereby everything has fallen into disarray. Part of the disruption of the schedule is that the carefully constructed way that I run my life has become completely unhinged. My body is trying to react to one schedule, my mind to another.
The schedule change has affected the way I work as well. Seemingly, this thin line has started to come between myself and my reports as our schedules now don't overlap as they once did. Suddenly, that difference between "bosses" and "workers" which I have seen on other places (and participated in) has happened to me as well.
Within myself, I seem to suffering from a personal sense of inertia that I wrote about yesterday. Simply put, I'm not really feeling the time or energy or enthusiasm to really do much of anything.
The problem is that I cannot tell: do I find myself bound in by fear? By depression? Or by some third thing that I cannot name?
I feel that I am flailing in my life - flailing for direction, flailing for traction, even (to some extent) flailing for meaning itself. Every direction seems to lead nowhere, every effort seems to peter out, every activity seems to be empty upon completion.
If there is a direction to my life at this point, a tack across the wind towards a distant continent - I simply cannot see it at this point. I just see miles and miles of empty sea with only a harbor I had known receding in the distance.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Inertia
Inertia is the enemy of self-development and direction.
I spent a day full of inertia yesterday. I could make the excuse that yes, I had been traveling and so deserved it, but the reality is that I essentially made excuses for myself to do very little.
Inertia also betrays you every time. It convinces you that you really do deserve to take it easy, to cater to your every whim, to just "be" - then sneaks up and wallops you with a 2 x 4 when you are not looking.
Am I speaking against relaxation or introspection? Not at all - I benefit greatly from both of those elements in my life (and you'll not find a greater advocate of introspection than I). But what I am getting at is that sense of slowing down because I "deserve" it. Quite the opposite - what I've come to discover is that when I am feeling that need to be inert is precisely the time I need to be at worst careful, at best on to doing something else.
Because what I've found for myself is that if I do surrender to inertia, the slide to becoming completely self absorbed in pleasing myself (to the detriment of those around me) is far quicker than I can calculate. It doesn't help others - and ironically, it fails to do for me the thing it promised. I am less rested, less self aware, less developed than I would have been otherwise.
Of all the things I battle against, I am the most difficult of all.
I spent a day full of inertia yesterday. I could make the excuse that yes, I had been traveling and so deserved it, but the reality is that I essentially made excuses for myself to do very little.
Inertia also betrays you every time. It convinces you that you really do deserve to take it easy, to cater to your every whim, to just "be" - then sneaks up and wallops you with a 2 x 4 when you are not looking.
Am I speaking against relaxation or introspection? Not at all - I benefit greatly from both of those elements in my life (and you'll not find a greater advocate of introspection than I). But what I am getting at is that sense of slowing down because I "deserve" it. Quite the opposite - what I've come to discover is that when I am feeling that need to be inert is precisely the time I need to be at worst careful, at best on to doing something else.
Because what I've found for myself is that if I do surrender to inertia, the slide to becoming completely self absorbed in pleasing myself (to the detriment of those around me) is far quicker than I can calculate. It doesn't help others - and ironically, it fails to do for me the thing it promised. I am less rested, less self aware, less developed than I would have been otherwise.
Of all the things I battle against, I am the most difficult of all.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Wanted
An epiphany this weekend. I suddenly realized, at the core, what I - and I think everyone else - wants in their heart of hearts.
They want to be wanted.
Ah, wanted, you may say. Isn't that really a synonym for desired, for loved? Can't you use them interchangeably?
I used to think so. I don't think so anymore.
Wanting to be wanted, at the core of our being, is the naked and humble admission that someone wants us for us, not what we can do for them. It is the deire side for agape love, that love of God that loves the individual for what they are, not for what they can do for them or how they react to that love.
Oftentimes that desire to be wanted turns into other things, making decisions or taking actions to make the other person (and could be anywhere: coworker, lover, friend, relative) continue to want us. We do things that we would not normally do, sometimes even taking risks we would never otherwise do - all for the sake of continuing to be wanted.
Why? Because being somewhere - a job, a friendship, a relationship, an organization - where you are not wanted is the most painful thing in the world. There is nothing worse than realizing that you are being tolerated or even that you are present merely as a functioning part, that you could be replaced at anytime and never really be missed.
But to feel wanted - to know you are somewhere because you make an impact, that you are in a friendship or relationship because the person really wants you, and lets them know that they want you - is the most empowering thing in the world.
Ultimately, this wanting is only fulfilled in our relationship with God. I can scarcely imagine the intensity that God wants us with - the intensity that Scripture says He wants to love us, wants us to be with Him, wants us to become like Him. If we could only grasp, in some small way, how strong His wanting is, what a difference in our lives it would make.
But maybe that's what these other wantings are for: to helps us realize that what is true of our desire for relationships with others is ultimately true of our relationship with God.
Are you letting those in your life know how much they are wanted?
They want to be wanted.
Ah, wanted, you may say. Isn't that really a synonym for desired, for loved? Can't you use them interchangeably?
I used to think so. I don't think so anymore.
Wanting to be wanted, at the core of our being, is the naked and humble admission that someone wants us for us, not what we can do for them. It is the deire side for agape love, that love of God that loves the individual for what they are, not for what they can do for them or how they react to that love.
Oftentimes that desire to be wanted turns into other things, making decisions or taking actions to make the other person (and could be anywhere: coworker, lover, friend, relative) continue to want us. We do things that we would not normally do, sometimes even taking risks we would never otherwise do - all for the sake of continuing to be wanted.
Why? Because being somewhere - a job, a friendship, a relationship, an organization - where you are not wanted is the most painful thing in the world. There is nothing worse than realizing that you are being tolerated or even that you are present merely as a functioning part, that you could be replaced at anytime and never really be missed.
But to feel wanted - to know you are somewhere because you make an impact, that you are in a friendship or relationship because the person really wants you, and lets them know that they want you - is the most empowering thing in the world.
Ultimately, this wanting is only fulfilled in our relationship with God. I can scarcely imagine the intensity that God wants us with - the intensity that Scripture says He wants to love us, wants us to be with Him, wants us to become like Him. If we could only grasp, in some small way, how strong His wanting is, what a difference in our lives it would make.
But maybe that's what these other wantings are for: to helps us realize that what is true of our desire for relationships with others is ultimately true of our relationship with God.
Are you letting those in your life know how much they are wanted?
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Travel
I am sitting here in bed on the road, thinking.
Traveling for work is at the same time a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing because it allows you to go other places, to see other companies and how they do things, to occassionally see something new and (maybe) try some new food.
On the other hand, it's a curse. I never (ever) seem to sleep well, even with the circumstances of a quiet room, thick bed, and the lack of a child occasionally walking through or Syrah deciding she needs to get up at 3 AM. The silence can also be a bit disconcerting as well - going from a busy office and home to the serene silence of an audit and temporary locations is a bit jarring.
However (me being me), the thing that is the most different is simply the loss of my schedule.
I am a creature of habit. On any given workday morning, I can tell you what I am doing based on what time you suggest to me. This is all completely shattered when traveling - not just from the time rearrangement but from the very schedule itself: no rabbits to feed, breakfast is at a certain time (and not at all what I typically have), most of what I read is not with me, my blog posts may or may not end up on the interent depending on coverage.
But is routine all the good - or bad?
Certainly having a routine every morning helps me to maximize my time spent. I have reached the point that generally I feel that by the time I have left the house, I have accomplished a great deal personally. At the same time, is it all that I could be accomplishing? Could I be doing things differently - or better? Having a routine doesn't allow us to question this - only when we are shaken out of it do we stop to take a moment and question everything: Should I be doing this? Should I be doing something else?
Because like in many other aspects of our lives, we sometimes continue to do things beyond their point of usefulness because we have always done them. Only a new perspective will give us the means - or the courage - to question.
Traveling for work is at the same time a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing because it allows you to go other places, to see other companies and how they do things, to occassionally see something new and (maybe) try some new food.
On the other hand, it's a curse. I never (ever) seem to sleep well, even with the circumstances of a quiet room, thick bed, and the lack of a child occasionally walking through or Syrah deciding she needs to get up at 3 AM. The silence can also be a bit disconcerting as well - going from a busy office and home to the serene silence of an audit and temporary locations is a bit jarring.
However (me being me), the thing that is the most different is simply the loss of my schedule.
I am a creature of habit. On any given workday morning, I can tell you what I am doing based on what time you suggest to me. This is all completely shattered when traveling - not just from the time rearrangement but from the very schedule itself: no rabbits to feed, breakfast is at a certain time (and not at all what I typically have), most of what I read is not with me, my blog posts may or may not end up on the interent depending on coverage.
But is routine all the good - or bad?
Certainly having a routine every morning helps me to maximize my time spent. I have reached the point that generally I feel that by the time I have left the house, I have accomplished a great deal personally. At the same time, is it all that I could be accomplishing? Could I be doing things differently - or better? Having a routine doesn't allow us to question this - only when we are shaken out of it do we stop to take a moment and question everything: Should I be doing this? Should I be doing something else?
Because like in many other aspects of our lives, we sometimes continue to do things beyond their point of usefulness because we have always done them. Only a new perspective will give us the means - or the courage - to question.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Purpose VIII: Entrepreneurial Agriculturialist
(Another in our continuing series of "Let's Make a New Life", based on Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at artofmanliness.com. Today's exercise, based on prioritization of roles, is to define a purpose for each role).
Today's Purpose: Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist(and Gardener)
(From here, things start to get fun.)
I freely admit this is something of a made up role. It's based on a combination of concepts from Gene Logsdon, Masanobu Fukuoka, Joel Salatin and others. The concept is not that one is just a farmer or rancher or gardener or beekeeper, but that one approaches it in such a way with an innovative and business mindset, the way one would do any start-up. For my purposes, it also incorporates a concept of low impact sustainable agriculture - trying old practices in new ways.
It also meshes deeply with one of my heartfelt mission goals in life: To preserve The Ranch as much as possible, to make it a functioning (or functional) example of Entrepreneurial Agriculture, to preserve a piece of mountain wilderness which is sustaining and where one can still hear the voice of God amidst the wind through the trees.
Pretty heady stuff for a guy who, at the moment, manages three rabbits and a fairly small garden. At the same time, I would say that outside of Author, this is the role that sings to my heart the most in terms of life purpose.
The eulogy I'd like to hear? "TB was an enterpreneurial agriculturalist who sought to manage the land in such a way that it was preserved and it produced healthy and sustainable food. He passed a love of nature and growing/raising food to all those around him."
I confess I get somewhat excited reading that. I'm cognizant of the fact that it doesn't capture crop failure, or the hot sun and cold rain, or losing animals to the local predators, or the generally low wages we pay the people who we depend on to raise our food. But it touches something deep within me - something that my day by day pushing of paper cannot even hope to ever touch.
Today's Purpose: Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist(and Gardener)
(From here, things start to get fun.)
I freely admit this is something of a made up role. It's based on a combination of concepts from Gene Logsdon, Masanobu Fukuoka, Joel Salatin and others. The concept is not that one is just a farmer or rancher or gardener or beekeeper, but that one approaches it in such a way with an innovative and business mindset, the way one would do any start-up. For my purposes, it also incorporates a concept of low impact sustainable agriculture - trying old practices in new ways.
It also meshes deeply with one of my heartfelt mission goals in life: To preserve The Ranch as much as possible, to make it a functioning (or functional) example of Entrepreneurial Agriculture, to preserve a piece of mountain wilderness which is sustaining and where one can still hear the voice of God amidst the wind through the trees.
Pretty heady stuff for a guy who, at the moment, manages three rabbits and a fairly small garden. At the same time, I would say that outside of Author, this is the role that sings to my heart the most in terms of life purpose.
The eulogy I'd like to hear? "TB was an enterpreneurial agriculturalist who sought to manage the land in such a way that it was preserved and it produced healthy and sustainable food. He passed a love of nature and growing/raising food to all those around him."
I confess I get somewhat excited reading that. I'm cognizant of the fact that it doesn't capture crop failure, or the hot sun and cold rain, or losing animals to the local predators, or the generally low wages we pay the people who we depend on to raise our food. But it touches something deep within me - something that my day by day pushing of paper cannot even hope to ever touch.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Purpose VII: Friend
(Another in our continuing series of "Let's Make a New Life", based on Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at artofmanliness.com. Today's exercise, based on prioritization of roles, is to define a purpose for each role).
Today's Purpose: Friend (and counselor).
Another one of those roles I look forward to with relish
I enjoy friendship. I really do - not the tepid acquaintance that our society so often offers as friendship, but the true sharing of two souls in relationship.
I was very lucky that in growing up, I always had friends - good friends. I had the same group of friends in various clumps of my life: all through grammar school one set, all through high school another, all through college another, all through Old Home another, and now here. I'm fortunate that some of my best friends continue to be some of my oldest friends even today (Uisdean Ruadh) would fall here)while others (Otis, Songbird, Bogha Frois, Silverline) are of more recent vintage but equally valuable.
And part of friendship - a part which I relish the most, not just with old or dear friends but with those everyday friends we make in each waystation of our life - is counseling, of being a friendly ear, of being able to listen and help to lift a burden (if I have some advice, great - but sometimes the greatest thing of all is simply being able to be that listening ear, that shoulder to beat on). It is a singular honor - and pleasure - to be chosen by someone to be worthy of their trust in revealing something of themselves, of their inner struggles, to you.
My wished-for eulogy: "TB was friend who you could go to with your problems and always listened, who had advice - or a joke - as needed. He was the sort of loyal and good friend that everyone needs to have."
A pipe dream? Do I rate friendship too highly? Possibly, but I don't think so. Friends are the chosen family of our souls. The friends we choose and keep are the ones we can go to time and time again when life chews us up and spits us out - or when life grants us golden sunshine and rainbows. Friends can support us in ways and times that even our family cannot.
I want to be that kind of friend.
Today's Purpose: Friend (and counselor).
Another one of those roles I look forward to with relish
I enjoy friendship. I really do - not the tepid acquaintance that our society so often offers as friendship, but the true sharing of two souls in relationship.
I was very lucky that in growing up, I always had friends - good friends. I had the same group of friends in various clumps of my life: all through grammar school one set, all through high school another, all through college another, all through Old Home another, and now here. I'm fortunate that some of my best friends continue to be some of my oldest friends even today (Uisdean Ruadh) would fall here)while others (Otis, Songbird, Bogha Frois, Silverline) are of more recent vintage but equally valuable.
And part of friendship - a part which I relish the most, not just with old or dear friends but with those everyday friends we make in each waystation of our life - is counseling, of being a friendly ear, of being able to listen and help to lift a burden (if I have some advice, great - but sometimes the greatest thing of all is simply being able to be that listening ear, that shoulder to beat on). It is a singular honor - and pleasure - to be chosen by someone to be worthy of their trust in revealing something of themselves, of their inner struggles, to you.
My wished-for eulogy: "TB was friend who you could go to with your problems and always listened, who had advice - or a joke - as needed. He was the sort of loyal and good friend that everyone needs to have."
A pipe dream? Do I rate friendship too highly? Possibly, but I don't think so. Friends are the chosen family of our souls. The friends we choose and keep are the ones we can go to time and time again when life chews us up and spits us out - or when life grants us golden sunshine and rainbows. Friends can support us in ways and times that even our family cannot.
I want to be that kind of friend.
Monday, April 11, 2011
A Fork In the Wall
"But God did not place you on this earth to waste away your years in labor that does not employ His design or purpose for your life, no matter how much you may be getting paid for it." - Arthur F. Miller Jr., Why You Can't Be Anything You Want To Be
A not so related - but perhaps terribly related - thought on purpose this morning
I am feeling as if my career, and indeed my life, have come up against a large wall which I cannot get over, under, through or around. It's as if all my efforts just impact off its surface and come bouncing to the ground. In words I feel drained, confused, powerless, inert, mentally foggy, and directionless.
Every attempt to engage myself in my chosen career leaves me feeling empty. No matter how many time I try to engage myself, to do better, to get "charged" about what I'm doing, I always come back to the same feelings of disillusionment and unenthusiasm as I leave for the day.
The time may have come, it seems, to simply state that I'm really in the wrong industry and the wrong career field, that I may have gone as far as I can.
Ironically, it brings me no joy to write this. Why? Because to seriously contemplate this thought is to say that 43 years old, I have no idea what the next step is - except that it is not in the same direction that I have been proceeding all this time.
But Miller's quote above resonated with me last night after I read it. Regular readers of this blog know that for years I have struggled with the disconnect of my life between what I am doing, the money I am earning doing it, and if God would judge my use of His gifts in this position to be what He has designed me for. Miller's quote - which if I am honest, mirrors my own internal thinking - says no.
But that said, what next? I can't simply go leaping off a cliff with no parachute or destination in sight (been there, done that, have the scars to prove it).
Here's a concept: do I actually have enough faith in God that as I sincerely ask to be shown the next step, as I begin the process of re-evaluating my life (and make a priority of it), that as I choose a set of tools and follow them - really follow them, not just give them a passing glance - that as I do all this, God will truly guide me in what it is He has designed me to do?
Do I have that kind of faith? Can I? Because it's become readily apparent that where I am, what I am, how I am, is not really working.
A not so related - but perhaps terribly related - thought on purpose this morning
I am feeling as if my career, and indeed my life, have come up against a large wall which I cannot get over, under, through or around. It's as if all my efforts just impact off its surface and come bouncing to the ground. In words I feel drained, confused, powerless, inert, mentally foggy, and directionless.
Every attempt to engage myself in my chosen career leaves me feeling empty. No matter how many time I try to engage myself, to do better, to get "charged" about what I'm doing, I always come back to the same feelings of disillusionment and unenthusiasm as I leave for the day.
The time may have come, it seems, to simply state that I'm really in the wrong industry and the wrong career field, that I may have gone as far as I can.
Ironically, it brings me no joy to write this. Why? Because to seriously contemplate this thought is to say that 43 years old, I have no idea what the next step is - except that it is not in the same direction that I have been proceeding all this time.
But Miller's quote above resonated with me last night after I read it. Regular readers of this blog know that for years I have struggled with the disconnect of my life between what I am doing, the money I am earning doing it, and if God would judge my use of His gifts in this position to be what He has designed me for. Miller's quote - which if I am honest, mirrors my own internal thinking - says no.
But that said, what next? I can't simply go leaping off a cliff with no parachute or destination in sight (been there, done that, have the scars to prove it).
Here's a concept: do I actually have enough faith in God that as I sincerely ask to be shown the next step, as I begin the process of re-evaluating my life (and make a priority of it), that as I choose a set of tools and follow them - really follow them, not just give them a passing glance - that as I do all this, God will truly guide me in what it is He has designed me to do?
Do I have that kind of faith? Can I? Because it's become readily apparent that where I am, what I am, how I am, is not really working.
Friday, April 08, 2011
A Short Program Break
Last morning of being "Captain Dad" as The Ravishing Mrs. TB and Nighean Gheal return from their three day/two night field trip this afternoon.
It's been an interesting experience.
One of the interesting parts that surprised me is how a schedule change works. Suddenly I am out the door at 0730 to make sure everyone arrives at school on time. Work is no longer bounded by a long period of time: I have to leave by 2:30, so everything is packed in that period. No-one questions, no management gives the glowering eye of "You should be here longer."
At home, there is a lot more direction: Is your homework done? Do you have anything else to do? Life becomes a series of simple tasks which need to be performed and verified. Then, at the end, there's a brief period of time called "Yours" before it starts over.
But it also has allowed me to spend more time with Na Clann, which has turned out to be a wonderful thing. The reality is (and I don't know how to fix it) that work takes 10-11 hours out of my day, including 2-3 hours every day where my children are how but I am not. Which seems sad.
It also reminds me of time management and time spent. When I watch a movie with my daughters because they want to watch it with me yet feel guilty because I'm not "using my time" more effectively, something is terribly wrong with myself and my perception of what "quality time" and "time management."
Will these past three days solve all my time management problems? Hardly. But has it given me just a smidge more consideration of what is important in my time planning and less so?
Absolutely
It's been an interesting experience.
One of the interesting parts that surprised me is how a schedule change works. Suddenly I am out the door at 0730 to make sure everyone arrives at school on time. Work is no longer bounded by a long period of time: I have to leave by 2:30, so everything is packed in that period. No-one questions, no management gives the glowering eye of "You should be here longer."
At home, there is a lot more direction: Is your homework done? Do you have anything else to do? Life becomes a series of simple tasks which need to be performed and verified. Then, at the end, there's a brief period of time called "Yours" before it starts over.
But it also has allowed me to spend more time with Na Clann, which has turned out to be a wonderful thing. The reality is (and I don't know how to fix it) that work takes 10-11 hours out of my day, including 2-3 hours every day where my children are how but I am not. Which seems sad.
It also reminds me of time management and time spent. When I watch a movie with my daughters because they want to watch it with me yet feel guilty because I'm not "using my time" more effectively, something is terribly wrong with myself and my perception of what "quality time" and "time management."
Will these past three days solve all my time management problems? Hardly. But has it given me just a smidge more consideration of what is important in my time planning and less so?
Absolutely
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Purpse VI: Brother
(Another in our continuing series of "Let's Make a New Life", based on Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at artofmanliness.com. Today's exercise, based on prioritization of roles, is to define a purpose for each role).
Today's purpose: Brother.
Sigh. This one is even more tenuous that that of "son" yesterday.
The fact remains that I am a brother to my sister and an uncle to my niece and nephew. The reality is, this impacts my life very little from day to day.
As noted yesterday, the role of brother is one that can diminish - more so now than ever, with not only the advent of distance but the advent of children and families which keep us busy with our own issues. Add to this if one's family are not great phone or e-mail conversationalists, and suddenly there is a communication silence.
Not that that is bad - after all, we want to see our relatives spending time with the ones that immediately need them, not just catering to a perceived role that has morphed but we continue to live. Still, how does one fill the role.
The eulogy? Simple: "TB was a good brother, present and supportive."
I think that "Brother" becomes a great deal like support role (sort of like son, I suppose) - that when the need is there, you're there; when not, you keep the lines of communication open.
Can I do more to keep the lines of communication open? Sure. I'd be lying to say my communication skills and initiatives are any better than most people's - we talk to those to whom we make time to talk.
But other than that, it's wait - and prepare one's self against the day that the need will come.
Today's purpose: Brother.
Sigh. This one is even more tenuous that that of "son" yesterday.
The fact remains that I am a brother to my sister and an uncle to my niece and nephew. The reality is, this impacts my life very little from day to day.
As noted yesterday, the role of brother is one that can diminish - more so now than ever, with not only the advent of distance but the advent of children and families which keep us busy with our own issues. Add to this if one's family are not great phone or e-mail conversationalists, and suddenly there is a communication silence.
Not that that is bad - after all, we want to see our relatives spending time with the ones that immediately need them, not just catering to a perceived role that has morphed but we continue to live. Still, how does one fill the role.
The eulogy? Simple: "TB was a good brother, present and supportive."
I think that "Brother" becomes a great deal like support role (sort of like son, I suppose) - that when the need is there, you're there; when not, you keep the lines of communication open.
Can I do more to keep the lines of communication open? Sure. I'd be lying to say my communication skills and initiatives are any better than most people's - we talk to those to whom we make time to talk.
But other than that, it's wait - and prepare one's self against the day that the need will come.
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
Purpose V: Son
(Another in our continuing series of "Let's Make a New Life", based on Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at artofmanliness.com. Today's exercise, based on prioritization of roles, is to define a purpose for each role).
Today's role: Son.
This role is a interesting one to write from at this stage in my life. I have my own children now, and am some 1800 miles away from my own parents. Much of what was "done" as a son has already been done (and some should probably have been undone at the time, of course, but that can't be helped now). At the same time, I am the example to my own children about how a child acts towards their older parents - which is again a position that I will someday find myself in.
Another (unhappy) thought is that this is probably a limited time position. Maybe there is another 20 years of this role, maybe not - either way, it's one of those roles that is time sensitive in a way not many others are.
So what would I like my eulogy to be for the role of son?:
"TB honored and loved his parent."
Kind of weak, isn't it?
But that's all I can seem to come up with. I honor my parents through speaking well of them, seeking their advice, trying to be the son they deserved (instead, at times, of the son they got), of helping them in ways when the need it. I love my parents by honoring them.
Is it wrong that I can't think of something more glamorous or glorious to fill this space? Or is it simply that in many ways, the role of parent/child often morphs (or should, anyway) into a sort of role of friend?
(Which brings up a slightly more interesting - and macabre - thought: the older we get, do certain roles and the memories and importance of them fade? When people in their 70s and 80s die, their role as a child to their parents is seldom, if ever, remembered.)
Odd thoughts indeed - thoughts I have never had before. I'll bear them in mind, even as I go about my day to day tasks. Certainly honoring and loving someone is in itself a large task, perhaps larger than anyone ever thinks of.
Today's role: Son.
This role is a interesting one to write from at this stage in my life. I have my own children now, and am some 1800 miles away from my own parents. Much of what was "done" as a son has already been done (and some should probably have been undone at the time, of course, but that can't be helped now). At the same time, I am the example to my own children about how a child acts towards their older parents - which is again a position that I will someday find myself in.
Another (unhappy) thought is that this is probably a limited time position. Maybe there is another 20 years of this role, maybe not - either way, it's one of those roles that is time sensitive in a way not many others are.
So what would I like my eulogy to be for the role of son?:
"TB honored and loved his parent."
Kind of weak, isn't it?
But that's all I can seem to come up with. I honor my parents through speaking well of them, seeking their advice, trying to be the son they deserved (instead, at times, of the son they got), of helping them in ways when the need it. I love my parents by honoring them.
Is it wrong that I can't think of something more glamorous or glorious to fill this space? Or is it simply that in many ways, the role of parent/child often morphs (or should, anyway) into a sort of role of friend?
(Which brings up a slightly more interesting - and macabre - thought: the older we get, do certain roles and the memories and importance of them fade? When people in their 70s and 80s die, their role as a child to their parents is seldom, if ever, remembered.)
Odd thoughts indeed - thoughts I have never had before. I'll bear them in mind, even as I go about my day to day tasks. Certainly honoring and loving someone is in itself a large task, perhaps larger than anyone ever thinks of.
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
Purpose IV: Author
(Another in our continuing series of "Let's Make a New Life", based on Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at artofmanliness.com. Today's exercise, based on prioritization of roles, is to define a purpose for each role).
Today's purpose: Author.
Oh, I've been looking forward to this one.
Outside of very few other things in my life, this is the one thing that I would like to do a great deal more than I do - and, I might add, the only one which I have an even very small chance of getting renumerated for (swordsman doesn't pay so well these days).
As I've mentioned numerous times before, I love to write. I really do. Not just because I would someday like to make money at it (I would), but just for the sheer joy of putting language together. It helps me keep my sanity by allowing to pour my thoughts and frustrations out onto a sheet. It also (occasionally) gives me a sense that I can actually help someone think, perhaps gain a little joy or perspective, or even just say "Man, that was well written".
So what would I like my eulogy to be from readers?:
"TB was an author who wrote with passion and excellence. He wrote in such a way that he called out the best in readers - in imagination, in purpose, in changing their lives. He entertained and taught and glorified God through his writings. By reading him, lives could change."
Ironically, I feel a bit silly as I write that. That's a tall order for anyone in their lives for anything: calling out their best, changing lives, entertaining, teaching, glorifying God. It almost reads as the statement of a teacher.
Maybe that's the latent teacher in my bloodstream coming out from where it's been hiding all these years.
And even as I write this I feel myself starting to pick on this already in my brain: "Write? You? Where will you find the time? And audience - authors publish books based on who they're audience is and how big it could be? Your audience is who?" The thoughts I face every day before I sigh, get dressed, and ramble off to the bland life I seem to despise so much.
But that's it, that's my purpose in writing (even writing here, as foreign as that sometimes seems). My deepest desire is that somewhere in your life, Dear Readers, you would be changed by something I have written.
Today's purpose: Author.
Oh, I've been looking forward to this one.
Outside of very few other things in my life, this is the one thing that I would like to do a great deal more than I do - and, I might add, the only one which I have an even very small chance of getting renumerated for (swordsman doesn't pay so well these days).
As I've mentioned numerous times before, I love to write. I really do. Not just because I would someday like to make money at it (I would), but just for the sheer joy of putting language together. It helps me keep my sanity by allowing to pour my thoughts and frustrations out onto a sheet. It also (occasionally) gives me a sense that I can actually help someone think, perhaps gain a little joy or perspective, or even just say "Man, that was well written".
So what would I like my eulogy to be from readers?:
"TB was an author who wrote with passion and excellence. He wrote in such a way that he called out the best in readers - in imagination, in purpose, in changing their lives. He entertained and taught and glorified God through his writings. By reading him, lives could change."
Ironically, I feel a bit silly as I write that. That's a tall order for anyone in their lives for anything: calling out their best, changing lives, entertaining, teaching, glorifying God. It almost reads as the statement of a teacher.
Maybe that's the latent teacher in my bloodstream coming out from where it's been hiding all these years.
And even as I write this I feel myself starting to pick on this already in my brain: "Write? You? Where will you find the time? And audience - authors publish books based on who they're audience is and how big it could be? Your audience is who?" The thoughts I face every day before I sigh, get dressed, and ramble off to the bland life I seem to despise so much.
But that's it, that's my purpose in writing (even writing here, as foreign as that sometimes seems). My deepest desire is that somewhere in your life, Dear Readers, you would be changed by something I have written.
Monday, April 04, 2011
Purpose III: Father
(Another in our continuing series of "Let's Make a New Life", based on Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at artofmanliness.com. Today's exercise, based on prioritization of roles, is to define a purpose for each role).
Today's role: Father.
In some ways, the most daunting role of all. Few other roles bear within them such possibility for good or evil, something that may only become self evident years after the fact.
I (like most, I think) will look back at the experience and memories I have of my on father as the beginning of the basis of the impact a father can have. And mine was good - overall, very very good (although it certainly didn't feel like it at the time). Good to the point that now, when I think about it, I can honestly say "I wish I was more like my father".
But then I look at my own children, and suddenly I feel completely overwhelmed.
In some ways, I know precisely what I want to pass on to my children. I want them to have a deep love for God. I want them to love each other. I want them to love the world that God created around them. I want them to use whatever talents and gifts they have to fullest of their abilities. I want them to make an impact for good on the world around them.
But then I look at myself and my relation with them - indeed, my general demeanor when I am around them - and I wonder how truly effectrive I can be.
I am not a patient man. For me sometimes, silence is the best I can manage because I cannot take the level of bickering, of being x years old, at times. So often I let the fact that what I do (and how lost I feel in it) influence my reactions around them when I am home. And, all too often, if feels as if I am more focused on myself and the limited time I have to do "my" things rather than assisting them in preparing for their lives.
If that's the case, what would I like my children's eulogy to be of me?:
"Our father was a man who helped us learn to love God and and be confident in ourselves. He encouraged us to find those God given talents we had within us and learn to use them. He loved animals and nature and taught us to love them as well. He gave us his love of music and learning and family.
When we grow up, we want to be more like him."
It has been said that we are archers and our children are the arrows. We fit them to the bow as best we can and let them fly towards a horizon we will never reach.
If, at my death, I could let them fly towards that horizon, leaving that eulogy behind, I should think that in (at least) one area, my purpose would have been complete.
Today's role: Father.
In some ways, the most daunting role of all. Few other roles bear within them such possibility for good or evil, something that may only become self evident years after the fact.
I (like most, I think) will look back at the experience and memories I have of my on father as the beginning of the basis of the impact a father can have. And mine was good - overall, very very good (although it certainly didn't feel like it at the time). Good to the point that now, when I think about it, I can honestly say "I wish I was more like my father".
But then I look at my own children, and suddenly I feel completely overwhelmed.
In some ways, I know precisely what I want to pass on to my children. I want them to have a deep love for God. I want them to love each other. I want them to love the world that God created around them. I want them to use whatever talents and gifts they have to fullest of their abilities. I want them to make an impact for good on the world around them.
But then I look at myself and my relation with them - indeed, my general demeanor when I am around them - and I wonder how truly effectrive I can be.
I am not a patient man. For me sometimes, silence is the best I can manage because I cannot take the level of bickering, of being x years old, at times. So often I let the fact that what I do (and how lost I feel in it) influence my reactions around them when I am home. And, all too often, if feels as if I am more focused on myself and the limited time I have to do "my" things rather than assisting them in preparing for their lives.
If that's the case, what would I like my children's eulogy to be of me?:
"Our father was a man who helped us learn to love God and and be confident in ourselves. He encouraged us to find those God given talents we had within us and learn to use them. He loved animals and nature and taught us to love them as well. He gave us his love of music and learning and family.
When we grow up, we want to be more like him."
It has been said that we are archers and our children are the arrows. We fit them to the bow as best we can and let them fly towards a horizon we will never reach.
If, at my death, I could let them fly towards that horizon, leaving that eulogy behind, I should think that in (at least) one area, my purpose would have been complete.
Friday, April 01, 2011
Purpose II: Husband
Welcome to our continuing series of "Let's Make a New Life", based on Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at artofmanliness.com. Today's exercise, based on prioritization of roles, is to define a purpose for each role.
Today's role: Husband.
Well, here's one that's never been open to any kind of cliche or over (or under) use. How many times throughout history - throughout my own life - have someone made a commitment to being a better spouse.
And what does being a better spouse mean, precisely? That's part of the challenge. It means different things to different people. Some view being a better spouse as providing more, or spending more time doing things with the family, or giving individuals more time to do things on their own, or just being sure to walk the dog every day. So in the end, part of being a better husband (or wife) depends as much on the other individual and how they feel their needs are being met as well as how we feel that we can meet that requirement.
So armed with that seemingly large mishmash of pastels, what do I want people - my wife - to say about me after I die?:
"He was a good man and a good husband who provided for me and his family and made us feel loved."
Wow, even more cliched that I had anticipated.
Well, maybe, maybe not. If I could just do that - provided for my family, make them feel loved - I would have done a lot more than what those simple words indicate - both because I suspect there are many who would say "I"ll take that" and because just because the concept is simple, it doesn't mean it's simplistic. In fact, there is an argument that providing and loving can be some of the most difficult, exhausting work to be done in any marriage.
If you don't think so, try providing for and loving your wife (and your children) in a situation that at best is not enjoyable to you or at worst is life threatening (not that I'm there, of course), and see how "simplistic" it is.
Today's role: Husband.
Well, here's one that's never been open to any kind of cliche or over (or under) use. How many times throughout history - throughout my own life - have someone made a commitment to being a better spouse.
And what does being a better spouse mean, precisely? That's part of the challenge. It means different things to different people. Some view being a better spouse as providing more, or spending more time doing things with the family, or giving individuals more time to do things on their own, or just being sure to walk the dog every day. So in the end, part of being a better husband (or wife) depends as much on the other individual and how they feel their needs are being met as well as how we feel that we can meet that requirement.
So armed with that seemingly large mishmash of pastels, what do I want people - my wife - to say about me after I die?:
"He was a good man and a good husband who provided for me and his family and made us feel loved."
Wow, even more cliched that I had anticipated.
Well, maybe, maybe not. If I could just do that - provided for my family, make them feel loved - I would have done a lot more than what those simple words indicate - both because I suspect there are many who would say "I"ll take that" and because just because the concept is simple, it doesn't mean it's simplistic. In fact, there is an argument that providing and loving can be some of the most difficult, exhausting work to be done in any marriage.
If you don't think so, try providing for and loving your wife (and your children) in a situation that at best is not enjoyable to you or at worst is life threatening (not that I'm there, of course), and see how "simplistic" it is.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Purpose I: Disciple
Welcome to our continuing series of "Let's Make a New Life", based on Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at artofmanliness.com. Today's exercise, based on yesterday's prioritization of roles, is to define a purpose for each role.
How do we do this, you may ask? Simple. Taking a page for Stephen Covey's The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, essentially one needs to write an obituary for each role. Imagine it is your funeral and you're attending. Various family members, co-workers, social connections, and other parts or members of your life are there. What is it that you would like them to say about you?
Fine then. Going from the top of the list (let me unroll it here), I see the first role identified as the most important role is that of Disciple. For myself, that means being a follower of Jesus. So, what do I want people to say about the witness of my life after I die:
"I want my family and friends to say that I had lived my life as an authentic Christian - not just someone who had the label and went to church on Sunday, but someone who actually practiced (to the best of his ability) the teachings and commandments of Christ, who had a real relationship with God, who made the concept of a loving and holy God credible, who could be a Christian and at the same time be a real person."
Okay. Sort of a tall order as I look at it there. However, for this one role, there is one other person that needs to be consulted: God. He's actually the One majorly involved, not me. What do I want God to say about the witness of my life after I die:
"Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter thou into the joy of thy Master."
As I write this words, I find myself a bit overcome by what I'm proposing. Do I mean this? Do I really mean this? Or is it just something I am writing because that's what I'm "supposed" to write?
I don't think it's the latter - but it sure overwhelms me if it's the former.
How do we do this, you may ask? Simple. Taking a page for Stephen Covey's The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, essentially one needs to write an obituary for each role. Imagine it is your funeral and you're attending. Various family members, co-workers, social connections, and other parts or members of your life are there. What is it that you would like them to say about you?
Fine then. Going from the top of the list (let me unroll it here), I see the first role identified as the most important role is that of Disciple. For myself, that means being a follower of Jesus. So, what do I want people to say about the witness of my life after I die:
"I want my family and friends to say that I had lived my life as an authentic Christian - not just someone who had the label and went to church on Sunday, but someone who actually practiced (to the best of his ability) the teachings and commandments of Christ, who had a real relationship with God, who made the concept of a loving and holy God credible, who could be a Christian and at the same time be a real person."
Okay. Sort of a tall order as I look at it there. However, for this one role, there is one other person that needs to be consulted: God. He's actually the One majorly involved, not me. What do I want God to say about the witness of my life after I die:
"Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter thou into the joy of thy Master."
As I write this words, I find myself a bit overcome by what I'm proposing. Do I mean this? Do I really mean this? Or is it just something I am writing because that's what I'm "supposed" to write?
I don't think it's the latter - but it sure overwhelms me if it's the former.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Roles II
Okay. So today as Step Two of deciding on my roles (to prepare for goals, of course!), I have to prioritize what I do (again, this exercise based on the incredibly helpful Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at artofmanliness.com).
As a reminder, here are my roles listed yesterday:
- Husband
- Father
- Son
- Brother
- Friend
- Manager
- Employee
- Counselor
- Author
- Gardener
- Swordsman
- Renter
- Musician
- Dreamer
- Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist
- Disciple
- Scholar
That should be 17 (Hang on, let me count - yup, 17). Great. So all I have to do is prioritize them.
But how do I prioritize them? That's kind of the rub. Do I prioritize them as they way they are now or the way I would like them to be? Those are two very different lists. Here's what it would look like now:
1. Employee
2. Manager
3. Husband
4. Father
5. Counselor
6. Disciple
7. Author
8. Friend
9. Swordsman
10. Son
11. Brother
12. Renter
13. Gardener
14. Dreamer
15. Scholar
16. Musician
17. Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist
That's hardly the way I want my life to work - but if I'm honest, that's how it's stacked right now. You'll notice how prominent work related things are - that can't possibly be right (but it is really true)! And disciple (in my case, a disciple of Christ) is way, way down on the list. The things that give me joy (Dreamer, Scholar, Musician, Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist) are also at the bottom.
As a reminder, here are my roles listed yesterday:
- Husband
- Father
- Son
- Brother
- Friend
- Manager
- Employee
- Counselor
- Author
- Gardener
- Swordsman
- Renter
- Musician
- Dreamer
- Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist
- Disciple
- Scholar
That should be 17 (Hang on, let me count - yup, 17). Great. So all I have to do is prioritize them.
But how do I prioritize them? That's kind of the rub. Do I prioritize them as they way they are now or the way I would like them to be? Those are two very different lists. Here's what it would look like now:
1. Employee
2. Manager
3. Husband
4. Father
5. Counselor
6. Disciple
7. Author
8. Friend
9. Swordsman
10. Son
11. Brother
12. Renter
13. Gardener
14. Dreamer
15. Scholar
16. Musician
17. Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist
That's hardly the way I want my life to work - but if I'm honest, that's how it's stacked right now. You'll notice how prominent work related things are - that can't possibly be right (but it is really true)! And disciple (in my case, a disciple of Christ) is way, way down on the list. The things that give me joy (Dreamer, Scholar, Musician, Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist) are also at the bottom.
Perhaps this explains the great disconnect in my life.
Is there anything I could get rid of? Don't know. Maybe "Renter" - but that would just transfer to "Homeowner" at some point, unless I included it where I'm an "Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist". "Son" and "Brother" are, at this moment, a little less of a day to day thing because of our location in New Home - but critical none the less.
Okay, so there is nothing I feel I could remove from this list. So then what would I like the list to look like?
1. Disciple
2. Husband
3. Father
4. Author
5. Son
6. Brother
7. Friend
8. Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist
9. Counselor
10. Swordsman
11. Musician
12. Scholar
13. Dreamer
14. Gardener
15. Renter
16. Employee
17. Manager
That's quite a shift, isn't it: frankly, I don't really like..let's say value being a renter, employee or manager. Hmm, that's sort of interesting.
If you pull those last three, I suddenly see where others could be combined as well. "Counselor" could role into "Friend" (I do a lot of counseling at work right now), and "Gardener" could be rolled into "Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist". That would leave me with 12 roles instead of 17 - quite a doable thing.
Now for the next task: Defining a purpose for each role.
Is there anything I could get rid of? Don't know. Maybe "Renter" - but that would just transfer to "Homeowner" at some point, unless I included it where I'm an "Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist". "Son" and "Brother" are, at this moment, a little less of a day to day thing because of our location in New Home - but critical none the less.
Okay, so there is nothing I feel I could remove from this list. So then what would I like the list to look like?
1. Disciple
2. Husband
3. Father
4. Author
5. Son
6. Brother
7. Friend
8. Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist
9. Counselor
10. Swordsman
11. Musician
12. Scholar
13. Dreamer
14. Gardener
15. Renter
16. Employee
17. Manager
That's quite a shift, isn't it: frankly, I don't really like..let's say value being a renter, employee or manager. Hmm, that's sort of interesting.
If you pull those last three, I suddenly see where others could be combined as well. "Counselor" could role into "Friend" (I do a lot of counseling at work right now), and "Gardener" could be rolled into "Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist". That would leave me with 12 roles instead of 17 - quite a doable thing.
Now for the next task: Defining a purpose for each role.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Roles
Okay. It's a New Year (Okay, technically, we're three months in). Time to pick up where we left off in December about New Year's Resolutions and getting moving on the path of living (yes, I know I'm late to the party. Cut me a bit of slack here. It's been a confused quarter).
The motivator? Twofold: 1) Lus a' Chrom Chinn and here suggestion of articles at http://www.artofmanliness.com/.
2) The realization that I am at the whim of events rather than controlling them.
The basis for today's study will be the article Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at the http://www.artofmanliness.com/ by Brett McKay (proprietor of the site). To start: decide on your roles.
Well, that was quite a thing. Make a list of each and every role that you fill, and then number them based on importance. A fairly simple task to start out with, but as I completed the list I realized that there was a lot more going on in my life that I thought.
My list (in no particular order):
- Husband
- Father
- Son - Brother
- Friend
- Manager
- Employee
- Counselor
- Author
- Gardener
- Swordsman
- Renter
- Musician
- Dreamer
- Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist
- Disciple
- Scholar
That's 17 for those of you without a program. 17 different roles? Ye saints and martyrs! No wonder I feel pulled in 52 (well, really 17) different directions. That's a heck of a lot of roles to fill in one individual.
Some of them are less difficult, of course (Renter: Pay rent on time, make sure yard looks good, take care of house). Some of them (Father of three girls) are so freakishly complex they make my head spin. Some of them (Swordsman) are possibly impractical (except for what I learn from them). And some of them (Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist) are remarkably in the future.
But if I look at that list, that's probably right. I'm a sum total of 17 different parts of my life. Great. Now that I've made the list, what do I do with it? Prioritize, of course. List which are more important and which are less so - and then I'll look to see if some can be combined/cut.
But that's for tomorrow. For today, what are the roles that you play?
The motivator? Twofold: 1) Lus a' Chrom Chinn and here suggestion of articles at http://www.artofmanliness.com/.
2) The realization that I am at the whim of events rather than controlling them.
The basis for today's study will be the article Craft the Life You Want: Creating a Blueprint for Your Future at the http://www.artofmanliness.com/ by Brett McKay (proprietor of the site). To start: decide on your roles.
Well, that was quite a thing. Make a list of each and every role that you fill, and then number them based on importance. A fairly simple task to start out with, but as I completed the list I realized that there was a lot more going on in my life that I thought.
My list (in no particular order):
- Husband
- Father
- Son - Brother
- Friend
- Manager
- Employee
- Counselor
- Author
- Gardener
- Swordsman
- Renter
- Musician
- Dreamer
- Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist
- Disciple
- Scholar
That's 17 for those of you without a program. 17 different roles? Ye saints and martyrs! No wonder I feel pulled in 52 (well, really 17) different directions. That's a heck of a lot of roles to fill in one individual.
Some of them are less difficult, of course (Renter: Pay rent on time, make sure yard looks good, take care of house). Some of them (Father of three girls) are so freakishly complex they make my head spin. Some of them (Swordsman) are possibly impractical (except for what I learn from them). And some of them (Entrepreneurial Agriculturalist) are remarkably in the future.
But if I look at that list, that's probably right. I'm a sum total of 17 different parts of my life. Great. Now that I've made the list, what do I do with it? Prioritize, of course. List which are more important and which are less so - and then I'll look to see if some can be combined/cut.
But that's for tomorrow. For today, what are the roles that you play?
Monday, March 28, 2011
Wants and Needs
Last night the Toirdhealbheach Beucail clan sat down around our traditional Sunday night homemade pizza for dinner and movie. The movie was The Princess and the Frog by Disney.
It's a good movie (one we'll probably end up owning someday) for the story and the animation and the music (dixieland/zydeco). It's also good for the messages woven into the movie: the importance of family, of dreams and hard work (and how without hard work there are no dreams), of bravery, of the simple love of food. But one line stuck with me over the night and into this morning: We may not get what we want, but we get what we need.
It's a subtle thought, something that is not what most people like to hear. We live in an age - especially those of us living in the First World - where it often feels like our birthright to have whatever we want, in the quantity and amount that we want it. But wants can be terrible things. They can become demanding masters, desiring to filled more and more, sending us to greater and greater lengths to fulfill them. They can simply be something that is good in a small amount but terrible in larger quantities. Or they can simply destroy us.
We don't like needs. We don't like the word "needs". It's so...needy. Sounds so much like poverty, like begging for something. So bland and pathetic. But a need is simply that. A need. Something critical which we must have - perhaps not as exciting or flashy as want, but far more necessary.
To be clear, I'm not specifically addressing material things. Those are easy to determine between wants and needs, and usually done in such a way that it becomes a finger pointing exercise in charity and greed. What I am thinking of are the intangibles: relationships with friends and family, emotional needs, feelings of self validation or self worth.
So the question I have to ask myself - with everything, not just material items - is "Is this a want or a need?" The two can become confused in my mind sometimes. I just have to think things through for clarity.
Which, I might add, really is a need.
It's a good movie (one we'll probably end up owning someday) for the story and the animation and the music (dixieland/zydeco). It's also good for the messages woven into the movie: the importance of family, of dreams and hard work (and how without hard work there are no dreams), of bravery, of the simple love of food. But one line stuck with me over the night and into this morning: We may not get what we want, but we get what we need.
It's a subtle thought, something that is not what most people like to hear. We live in an age - especially those of us living in the First World - where it often feels like our birthright to have whatever we want, in the quantity and amount that we want it. But wants can be terrible things. They can become demanding masters, desiring to filled more and more, sending us to greater and greater lengths to fulfill them. They can simply be something that is good in a small amount but terrible in larger quantities. Or they can simply destroy us.
We don't like needs. We don't like the word "needs". It's so...needy. Sounds so much like poverty, like begging for something. So bland and pathetic. But a need is simply that. A need. Something critical which we must have - perhaps not as exciting or flashy as want, but far more necessary.
To be clear, I'm not specifically addressing material things. Those are easy to determine between wants and needs, and usually done in such a way that it becomes a finger pointing exercise in charity and greed. What I am thinking of are the intangibles: relationships with friends and family, emotional needs, feelings of self validation or self worth.
So the question I have to ask myself - with everything, not just material items - is "Is this a want or a need?" The two can become confused in my mind sometimes. I just have to think things through for clarity.
Which, I might add, really is a need.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Circular Forward?
Why do I write?
The question occurred to me this morning as I reviewed articles from the website Art of Manliness. This is a website about thoughtful men's issues and means of thinking new thoughts (some fascinating multi-part series, with very cool old pictures and graphics).
But reading it this morning has made me question why I write, here. Why? Because that website is the sort of thing I think I wanted to do when I originally started this.
To be fair, when I started I had no idea what I was doing. I just decided to start a blog. If you look at the postings year by year, you'll note that nothing really took off until almost 2 years after it was started. And even then, things have sort of migrated over a vast range of topics, sort of an electronic journal of my life's journey over the past 4 years (especially the last 3).
But is this what I really want? Is this what is the most useful and effective?
I wonder (in my heart of hearts) if I spend too much time essentially navel gazing in a guise of "deep philosophical considerations". Yes, I know I don't do it all the time, but I have been reliably informed by readers that they can easily tell what mood I'm in, or when I'm depressed (for the twentieth time).
But (argues the other side of my brain) what if this is the point of the blog? Surely not many do this sort of occasional introspection, and certainly there are enough other kinds of blogs that this may fill the bill for someone.
Which all may be true. But nagging at the back of my mind is this question: am I just writing in circles, or is this really a spiral motion that is leading me up the coiled spring even as I feel I'm revisiting the same areas multiple times?
The question occurred to me this morning as I reviewed articles from the website Art of Manliness. This is a website about thoughtful men's issues and means of thinking new thoughts (some fascinating multi-part series, with very cool old pictures and graphics).
But reading it this morning has made me question why I write, here. Why? Because that website is the sort of thing I think I wanted to do when I originally started this.
To be fair, when I started I had no idea what I was doing. I just decided to start a blog. If you look at the postings year by year, you'll note that nothing really took off until almost 2 years after it was started. And even then, things have sort of migrated over a vast range of topics, sort of an electronic journal of my life's journey over the past 4 years (especially the last 3).
But is this what I really want? Is this what is the most useful and effective?
I wonder (in my heart of hearts) if I spend too much time essentially navel gazing in a guise of "deep philosophical considerations". Yes, I know I don't do it all the time, but I have been reliably informed by readers that they can easily tell what mood I'm in, or when I'm depressed (for the twentieth time).
But (argues the other side of my brain) what if this is the point of the blog? Surely not many do this sort of occasional introspection, and certainly there are enough other kinds of blogs that this may fill the bill for someone.
Which all may be true. But nagging at the back of my mind is this question: am I just writing in circles, or is this really a spiral motion that is leading me up the coiled spring even as I feel I'm revisiting the same areas multiple times?
Editorial Note
I just discovered yesterday morning that (apparently) I have a spam filter which will collect comments, legitimate and spam, into a folder. To those who have commented in the past and not seen their comments, my apologies for my Luddite behavior. I'll endeavor to do better.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Spinning Wheels
Lus a' Chrom Chinn made me think last night - hard.
She pointed out (rightly) that, at least by using my posts as measuring device, I have been spinning my wheels (figuratively, of course) in my life since we reconnected our friendship online. That's something like 3 years at this point.
However, the more revealing part is that if I go through my journals (which I have this year), I've been spinning my wheels since 1992.
This is somewhat alarming.
I have to be honest - most of what my wheel spin about are my choice of careers. Interestingly, I've pretty much had complaints about my current field since I entered in 1996. Yes, it is a well-paying career and yes, I have been able to do a lot for mo theaglach through it - but based on yesterday's thought I may have reached the outer limits of what I am capable of doing.
Why? Because my heart is always pulling me in another direction.
That's it, she wrote. What other direction is your heart pulling you in? What are the things that bring you the most joy? Why aren't you doing those?
Good questions all. Here's my first step in the healing process. A short list (perhaps Top Ten?) of things I like to do:
- Writing (like this blog, of course)
- Working in a garden (or even in the yard now).
- Reading (Mostly history, philosophy, agricultural/gardening works, theology with a sprinkling of fantasy).
- Music.
- Iaido.
- Working with bees (heck, just watching bees!).
- Making food myself (not preparation for meals but the actual preparing of the food: brewing, canning/pickling, grinding the wheat or cornmeal I've grown. I'm sure cheese making will fall in here once I start it).
- Working with animals (the rabbits now, but any smaller animals or livestock. I miss chickens!).
- Walking and pondering (don't get to do enough of this now!).
- Combining one or more of these activities (such as using the rabbit droppings and old hay to place on my garden, which assists the plants in producing food which we consume or save for later; using honey from our bees to make mead).
For those that know me, you'll notice that not one of the things I do in my career is included in the above list.
I don't know how to end this post other than to say if these are the things I love and not one of them is in my current career field, how do I get from here to there? I mean, without falling off a cliff like I did with The Firm?
She pointed out (rightly) that, at least by using my posts as measuring device, I have been spinning my wheels (figuratively, of course) in my life since we reconnected our friendship online. That's something like 3 years at this point.
However, the more revealing part is that if I go through my journals (which I have this year), I've been spinning my wheels since 1992.
This is somewhat alarming.
I have to be honest - most of what my wheel spin about are my choice of careers. Interestingly, I've pretty much had complaints about my current field since I entered in 1996. Yes, it is a well-paying career and yes, I have been able to do a lot for mo theaglach through it - but based on yesterday's thought I may have reached the outer limits of what I am capable of doing.
Why? Because my heart is always pulling me in another direction.
That's it, she wrote. What other direction is your heart pulling you in? What are the things that bring you the most joy? Why aren't you doing those?
Good questions all. Here's my first step in the healing process. A short list (perhaps Top Ten?) of things I like to do:
- Writing (like this blog, of course)
- Working in a garden (or even in the yard now).
- Reading (Mostly history, philosophy, agricultural/gardening works, theology with a sprinkling of fantasy).
- Music.
- Iaido.
- Working with bees (heck, just watching bees!).
- Making food myself (not preparation for meals but the actual preparing of the food: brewing, canning/pickling, grinding the wheat or cornmeal I've grown. I'm sure cheese making will fall in here once I start it).
- Working with animals (the rabbits now, but any smaller animals or livestock. I miss chickens!).
- Walking and pondering (don't get to do enough of this now!).
- Combining one or more of these activities (such as using the rabbit droppings and old hay to place on my garden, which assists the plants in producing food which we consume or save for later; using honey from our bees to make mead).
For those that know me, you'll notice that not one of the things I do in my career is included in the above list.
I don't know how to end this post other than to say if these are the things I love and not one of them is in my current career field, how do I get from here to there? I mean, without falling off a cliff like I did with The Firm?
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Sucess and Loving What You Do
"If anything is worth doing, it's worth doing to excess." - Edwin Land, Inventor of the Polaroid Land Camera
Became aware today of the dividing line between success and failure last night.
As I was working out in what will become garden patch #3 last night, I found myself getting drawn into the smell of woodwork so much like that of a bee hive. I'm not sure what it was from - new wood on the neighbor's property or perhaps the stump which is slowly decomposing at the edge of this new plot. Tonight I ripped up up the soil with a pick, add steer manure, then worked it in with a shovel and raked it smooth. I'll water for two more night, then start planting this weekend.
After that I went to the garage and found my remaining garden wire to fence it in from Syrah the Mighty. Got out there, realized I didn't have enough, then started casting around for alternate methods in yard.
As I stood looking in the growing evening darkness and pre-summer heat, I suddenly realized how much I enjoyed doing this: working not just in the garden, but now expanded to the yard, making something beautiful out of chaos. It then struck me that I was thinking outside of the box to do this, looking for other options which would allow me to keep going when what I had at hand was not enough.
I compared this to the attitude I seem to have so often at work. It's not nearly as outward focused, driven to succeed, enjoying what I am doing and willing to work extra hard to make it happen. Too often, when things go less the right, my tendency is to almost gloat about them rather than look for ways to make things work, to glory in the fact that what I have been feeling and saying has come to pass.
It was at this point, in the wood smell and gathering darkness, that I realized why in order to succeed, one must love what they do to the point that work is play and play is work. It's that level of commitment that is necessary to gather that success.
I'm not saying that level of commitment guarantees success; a bad idea is still a bad idea not matter how long and hard it is worked. However, ideas are like gardens: only in soil that is cleared, worked, watered and weeded will they grow. That takes commitment, a lot of commitment. And the only place that commitment will come is if something is loved to the point that the work is willing to be done, the ideas constantly rolled around in one's mind, the actions taken to succeed when one is already tired from a day of doing the things one doesn't love.
So maybe all my thinking and pondering has been in the wrong direction. What do I love? Even if it's not something viable at this point, I need to start doing that too. If I can dedicate that level of commitment and action to it, maybe what I love and what I do will intersect on the road to the future.
Became aware today of the dividing line between success and failure last night.
As I was working out in what will become garden patch #3 last night, I found myself getting drawn into the smell of woodwork so much like that of a bee hive. I'm not sure what it was from - new wood on the neighbor's property or perhaps the stump which is slowly decomposing at the edge of this new plot. Tonight I ripped up up the soil with a pick, add steer manure, then worked it in with a shovel and raked it smooth. I'll water for two more night, then start planting this weekend.
After that I went to the garage and found my remaining garden wire to fence it in from Syrah the Mighty. Got out there, realized I didn't have enough, then started casting around for alternate methods in yard.
As I stood looking in the growing evening darkness and pre-summer heat, I suddenly realized how much I enjoyed doing this: working not just in the garden, but now expanded to the yard, making something beautiful out of chaos. It then struck me that I was thinking outside of the box to do this, looking for other options which would allow me to keep going when what I had at hand was not enough.
I compared this to the attitude I seem to have so often at work. It's not nearly as outward focused, driven to succeed, enjoying what I am doing and willing to work extra hard to make it happen. Too often, when things go less the right, my tendency is to almost gloat about them rather than look for ways to make things work, to glory in the fact that what I have been feeling and saying has come to pass.
It was at this point, in the wood smell and gathering darkness, that I realized why in order to succeed, one must love what they do to the point that work is play and play is work. It's that level of commitment that is necessary to gather that success.
I'm not saying that level of commitment guarantees success; a bad idea is still a bad idea not matter how long and hard it is worked. However, ideas are like gardens: only in soil that is cleared, worked, watered and weeded will they grow. That takes commitment, a lot of commitment. And the only place that commitment will come is if something is loved to the point that the work is willing to be done, the ideas constantly rolled around in one's mind, the actions taken to succeed when one is already tired from a day of doing the things one doesn't love.
So maybe all my thinking and pondering has been in the wrong direction. What do I love? Even if it's not something viable at this point, I need to start doing that too. If I can dedicate that level of commitment and action to it, maybe what I love and what I do will intersect on the road to the future.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Calling
I find the land and nature's creatures calling to me.
They called out to me this weekend as I moved leaves with my rake, through the singing birds and the blowing trees and the scudding clouds above my head, later followed by the shining sun.
They hold me enthralled every time I feed the rabbits, who give freely of their affection (on their own terms, of course!) all in exchange for some hay, food and carrots, water, and love. You have not fully experienced animal affection until you been kissed by a rabbit, felt the soft quick touch of their tongue (like and yet unlike that of a cat).
They sing to me in their absence; I miss the bees. I miss their buzzing, their industry, watching them work throughout their hive.
If I become excited about things in my life, it all comes to have to do with creatures and the land: planting a seasonal garden, taking joy in the mundane practice of cleaning after animals, looking at the brown-green of a yard in disrepair but raked and picturing what it could look like, picturing what could be done even with this small plot of New Home ("Quail? Yeah, I could probably make that work too!").
This gap becomes more visible to me year by year, sometimes even day by day as I confront the sterile office environment in which I work with abstract concepts versus the concrete world that is around me.
How does one bridge this gap?
They called out to me this weekend as I moved leaves with my rake, through the singing birds and the blowing trees and the scudding clouds above my head, later followed by the shining sun.
They hold me enthralled every time I feed the rabbits, who give freely of their affection (on their own terms, of course!) all in exchange for some hay, food and carrots, water, and love. You have not fully experienced animal affection until you been kissed by a rabbit, felt the soft quick touch of their tongue (like and yet unlike that of a cat).
They sing to me in their absence; I miss the bees. I miss their buzzing, their industry, watching them work throughout their hive.
If I become excited about things in my life, it all comes to have to do with creatures and the land: planting a seasonal garden, taking joy in the mundane practice of cleaning after animals, looking at the brown-green of a yard in disrepair but raked and picturing what it could look like, picturing what could be done even with this small plot of New Home ("Quail? Yeah, I could probably make that work too!").
This gap becomes more visible to me year by year, sometimes even day by day as I confront the sterile office environment in which I work with abstract concepts versus the concrete world that is around me.
How does one bridge this gap?
Monday, March 21, 2011
Raking and Blowing
This weekend I tackled a task two years in the making: The Raking of The Backyard.
Two years of oak leaves, acorns, and some other kind of leaves I can't readily identify rendered the backyard a sea of dead leaves with green shoots of something occassionally peeking out. Accepting the fact that this year we may spend a lot more time around New Home than I anticipated, it was time to make the backyard a usable locale instead of a leaf ridden wasteland.
5 hours in on Saturday, I made something of a dent. It was me and a rake: rake the leaves and accompanying detrius (acorns, bark, branches, nameless bits of dog goo) into a pile, shovel the pile with the rake into a bag. Crimp the bag, shoulder lift it out to the side of the house. Rake another pile. Repeat until yard is clean.
This method will work, although there are two major problems:
1) It takes a long time.
2) Even with gloves, you develop blisters (and then calluses) at the base of your thumb and index finger.
All of a sudden, Neighbor B pops his head over the fence. "Hey neighbor!"
"Hey!" I replied, stopping to rest on the rake.
"I've got the leaf blower. Cleaned my yard right up. Want to borrow it?"
"Sure" I said, never having actually used a leaf blower before.
He showed the basics of doing it, then set me on my path. Armed with my upgraded technological rake, I returned to the backyard to slay leaf piles with new weapon.
The leaf blower worked fine. However, I noticed a few issues as I worked the second half of the yard:
1) It only worked well on truly clear surfaces. In grasses, leaves didn't really blow out.
2) It blew hard - and it blew everything. Even the dirt that I managed to scrape over with the rake and leave behind got moved, leaving a sterile ground with grass roots hanging on for dear life.
3) It was loud. Raking you can hear the sounds of neighboorhood living and birds all around you as you work. With a leaf blower, you hear...the leaf blower.
I finished the other half of the yard, then brought it back. "Are you sure you're done?" he pressed.
"I am" I said. "Thanks for letting me borrow it."
"You're sure?" he pressed.
"I'm good. Thanks."
I finished off in the rapidly darkening evening with my rake. Sure, I wasn't moving leaves quite as fast, but the evening birds sang beautifully and I got to see the night sky lit by the moon as I finished up.
Weekend total: 31 Thirty Gallon Bags (930 gallons) of leaves, acorns, and unmentionables with 1/3 of the yard to go.
Will it take me longer this way? Sure it will. But will I be in the experience of raking rather than rushing through it to get to something else? Absolutely.
Blisters heal. You cannot, however, hear the song of the cardinal above a motor's drone.
Two years of oak leaves, acorns, and some other kind of leaves I can't readily identify rendered the backyard a sea of dead leaves with green shoots of something occassionally peeking out. Accepting the fact that this year we may spend a lot more time around New Home than I anticipated, it was time to make the backyard a usable locale instead of a leaf ridden wasteland.
5 hours in on Saturday, I made something of a dent. It was me and a rake: rake the leaves and accompanying detrius (acorns, bark, branches, nameless bits of dog goo) into a pile, shovel the pile with the rake into a bag. Crimp the bag, shoulder lift it out to the side of the house. Rake another pile. Repeat until yard is clean.
This method will work, although there are two major problems:
1) It takes a long time.
2) Even with gloves, you develop blisters (and then calluses) at the base of your thumb and index finger.
All of a sudden, Neighbor B pops his head over the fence. "Hey neighbor!"
"Hey!" I replied, stopping to rest on the rake.
"I've got the leaf blower. Cleaned my yard right up. Want to borrow it?"
"Sure" I said, never having actually used a leaf blower before.
He showed the basics of doing it, then set me on my path. Armed with my upgraded technological rake, I returned to the backyard to slay leaf piles with new weapon.
The leaf blower worked fine. However, I noticed a few issues as I worked the second half of the yard:
1) It only worked well on truly clear surfaces. In grasses, leaves didn't really blow out.
2) It blew hard - and it blew everything. Even the dirt that I managed to scrape over with the rake and leave behind got moved, leaving a sterile ground with grass roots hanging on for dear life.
3) It was loud. Raking you can hear the sounds of neighboorhood living and birds all around you as you work. With a leaf blower, you hear...the leaf blower.
I finished the other half of the yard, then brought it back. "Are you sure you're done?" he pressed.
"I am" I said. "Thanks for letting me borrow it."
"You're sure?" he pressed.
"I'm good. Thanks."
I finished off in the rapidly darkening evening with my rake. Sure, I wasn't moving leaves quite as fast, but the evening birds sang beautifully and I got to see the night sky lit by the moon as I finished up.
Weekend total: 31 Thirty Gallon Bags (930 gallons) of leaves, acorns, and unmentionables with 1/3 of the yard to go.
Will it take me longer this way? Sure it will. But will I be in the experience of raking rather than rushing through it to get to something else? Absolutely.
Blisters heal. You cannot, however, hear the song of the cardinal above a motor's drone.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Friday Thinking
Quietly reflective inside this morning.
Am I following the right plan? For that matter, am I following any plan at all?
I am dogged by this sense that I have made a series of less than excellent decisions that have brought me to the point of my life that they are now. Not all of them were bad of course, but on the whole there seems to be no sense of unified direction or a whole to them.
The result? I am where I am now, with no real sense of where to go next or even where I am going.
Part of me says this is simply the nature of life, that life is a series of incidents we certainly cannot forsee and we react to. And on some level I continue to believe that - we exist in the midst of a universe of cause and effect, and we often do not cause the effects we have to deal with.
At the same time, I see those that achieve their goals around me all the time, those who have chosen their direction in life and have clung to it through thick and thin until they have achieved what they set out to do. Surely they have had such random effects occur in their lives as well, yet somehow they managed to move through those to achieve their goals or objectives.
Do I have goals and objectives? Sure. Does it look like they have the least chance of being met now given the current state of where I am? Not at all.
And that's where the confusion comes in. I guess I could meet them - if I abandoned everything I had and every responsibility in my life and pursued "me" only. Unfortunately the toll, in lives affected and financial chaos, would make any such "victory" a hollow and pointless one.
On the other hand, it often seems like if I hold up my commitments and my responsibilities, my life will simply continue to be what it has become. There is a sense, at least in myself, that I am so much less in so many ways that I used to be. Things I wanted to do or enjoyed are constantly getting swept off the map to meet commitments and responsibilities, until my life feels like it has become one long commute between two places. My fear is that I will wake up and find that at some point I cannot go back, that I am cast in place precisely where I am and that there is only the long slow road to oblivion.
And every time I plan, I lay something out on paper or in my mind, I am overwhelmed by events of the here and now, things that need to be dealt with - and that piece of paper gets filed somewhere, becoming part of an ever-growing fossil record of good intentions and dreams of the life that I didn't have.
The question is, what do I do about it? And what do I do about it that is meaningful?
Am I following the right plan? For that matter, am I following any plan at all?
I am dogged by this sense that I have made a series of less than excellent decisions that have brought me to the point of my life that they are now. Not all of them were bad of course, but on the whole there seems to be no sense of unified direction or a whole to them.
The result? I am where I am now, with no real sense of where to go next or even where I am going.
Part of me says this is simply the nature of life, that life is a series of incidents we certainly cannot forsee and we react to. And on some level I continue to believe that - we exist in the midst of a universe of cause and effect, and we often do not cause the effects we have to deal with.
At the same time, I see those that achieve their goals around me all the time, those who have chosen their direction in life and have clung to it through thick and thin until they have achieved what they set out to do. Surely they have had such random effects occur in their lives as well, yet somehow they managed to move through those to achieve their goals or objectives.
Do I have goals and objectives? Sure. Does it look like they have the least chance of being met now given the current state of where I am? Not at all.
And that's where the confusion comes in. I guess I could meet them - if I abandoned everything I had and every responsibility in my life and pursued "me" only. Unfortunately the toll, in lives affected and financial chaos, would make any such "victory" a hollow and pointless one.
On the other hand, it often seems like if I hold up my commitments and my responsibilities, my life will simply continue to be what it has become. There is a sense, at least in myself, that I am so much less in so many ways that I used to be. Things I wanted to do or enjoyed are constantly getting swept off the map to meet commitments and responsibilities, until my life feels like it has become one long commute between two places. My fear is that I will wake up and find that at some point I cannot go back, that I am cast in place precisely where I am and that there is only the long slow road to oblivion.
And every time I plan, I lay something out on paper or in my mind, I am overwhelmed by events of the here and now, things that need to be dealt with - and that piece of paper gets filed somewhere, becoming part of an ever-growing fossil record of good intentions and dreams of the life that I didn't have.
The question is, what do I do about it? And what do I do about it that is meaningful?
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Demotivated
I feel so demotivated this morning.
I don't know if it is being tired or a long day at work yesterday (or the one facing me today) or the realization that based on the talk of the revised banking rules the chances of my ever owning a house again are pretty non-extant (even though I'll work for the rest of my life), but I just have nothing.
I'll go through the motions of course: shower next, followed by trekking off to work for a day of productivity (this is how I now measure a day of work: was I productive?) followed by the commute home, dinner, Iaido and then bed. I'll talk, laugh, do work, try to concentrate, do my duty.
But underneath it all is this nagging lack of energy to do anything, to try. It's as if all the purpose and meaning had been pulled from my life, leaving me with...nothing. Well, nothing except a series of duties that I have to perform because that's my job and role in life.
Jobs and roles, accountability and responsibility. The stuff of duty - and, it seems, a way to speed through life without trying.
I don't know if it is being tired or a long day at work yesterday (or the one facing me today) or the realization that based on the talk of the revised banking rules the chances of my ever owning a house again are pretty non-extant (even though I'll work for the rest of my life), but I just have nothing.
I'll go through the motions of course: shower next, followed by trekking off to work for a day of productivity (this is how I now measure a day of work: was I productive?) followed by the commute home, dinner, Iaido and then bed. I'll talk, laugh, do work, try to concentrate, do my duty.
But underneath it all is this nagging lack of energy to do anything, to try. It's as if all the purpose and meaning had been pulled from my life, leaving me with...nothing. Well, nothing except a series of duties that I have to perform because that's my job and role in life.
Jobs and roles, accountability and responsibility. The stuff of duty - and, it seems, a way to speed through life without trying.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Mediocrity
"The signature of mediocrity is not an unwillingness to change. The signature of mediocrity is chronic inconsistency." - Jim Collins
Mediocrity: The state or quality of being mediocre.
Mediocre: Of moderate or low quality, value, ability or performance; ordinary, so-so.
I am struggling with concept of mediocrity in my life -mostly in general I suppose, but brought to light specifically by the quote listed above.
I am in so many ways the epitomy of inconsistancy, zigging this way and zagging that, picking up things with a high degree of intensity only to veer to the other side as something else catches my eye. I'm certainly not unwilling to change, as the quote suggests; I am, unfortunately, chronically inconsistent.
Chronically inconsistent I can live with as a label - what it suggests, a mediocre life, not so much.
But I have to be willing to ask (and answer) the hard question: is my life of moderate or low quality, value, abilty or performance? Have I come to accept this as the norm?
Certainly large portions of my life would seem to celebrate it. In theory society and the workplace reward excellence and ability; in point of fact this often does not seem so, or in fact the very people that supposedly call forth this level of activity either don't lead by example or swallow the efforts for themselves. And it is certainly true that excellence and superiority go where they are welcomed, not where they are scoffed and ignored.
But as convenient as that is, it does not excuse me personally. All the reasons to do something wrong in the world does not make it right to do that wrong.
So then the question becomes a simple one: if I have let my life slip into mediocrity, how do I start to move it back towards excellence? How do I reverse the trend I feel and see in myself? How do I fight my way clear, rededicate myself to being an excellent me instead of a mediocre me? How, when I so often feel defeated by circumstances, do I find the will and stamina to push myself over the top?
Mediocrity: The state or quality of being mediocre.
Mediocre: Of moderate or low quality, value, ability or performance; ordinary, so-so.
I am struggling with concept of mediocrity in my life -mostly in general I suppose, but brought to light specifically by the quote listed above.
I am in so many ways the epitomy of inconsistancy, zigging this way and zagging that, picking up things with a high degree of intensity only to veer to the other side as something else catches my eye. I'm certainly not unwilling to change, as the quote suggests; I am, unfortunately, chronically inconsistent.
Chronically inconsistent I can live with as a label - what it suggests, a mediocre life, not so much.
But I have to be willing to ask (and answer) the hard question: is my life of moderate or low quality, value, abilty or performance? Have I come to accept this as the norm?
Certainly large portions of my life would seem to celebrate it. In theory society and the workplace reward excellence and ability; in point of fact this often does not seem so, or in fact the very people that supposedly call forth this level of activity either don't lead by example or swallow the efforts for themselves. And it is certainly true that excellence and superiority go where they are welcomed, not where they are scoffed and ignored.
But as convenient as that is, it does not excuse me personally. All the reasons to do something wrong in the world does not make it right to do that wrong.
So then the question becomes a simple one: if I have let my life slip into mediocrity, how do I start to move it back towards excellence? How do I reverse the trend I feel and see in myself? How do I fight my way clear, rededicate myself to being an excellent me instead of a mediocre me? How, when I so often feel defeated by circumstances, do I find the will and stamina to push myself over the top?
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Images
As I continue to watch, listen to, and digest the ongoing coverage of the Japanese earthquake/tsunami (does it have an official name yet?) I am struck by the seeming unreality of it all.
This is one of the difficulties of the modern world: we have become so visually dependent (and visually stimulated) that we can become unmoved to visuals of what we see occurring. It seems unreal: like a movie or video game we watch for entertainment.
A simple example: yesterday I watched a six minute video of the tsunami as it hit a town. The water continues to rush in, rising, then it starts to bring other things in: boxes, cars and trucks, a fishing boat, and finally the houses themselves are lifted off their foundations and carried away. An entire town, ruined. The lives of individuals, individuals like me, either destroyed or changed forever.
I hit stop on the video. I go outside to rake leaves in the yard. The sun is shining, it's 70 F, I open a cold beer before I start raking in the evening light with the birds singing. The whole thing seems unreal to me. I can sense the enormity of what I have seen but it doesn't seem to affect me the way I think it should.
I look around this morning as I type: my lights continue to run, the clock-ticking silence is unbroken by the sounds of sleeping family members, my coffee is hot in my hand. Meanwhile, survivors have entered Day 4 of freezing temperatures and uncertain food/water supplies - and in some cases, fears of radiation.
I don't know what to make of this entry fully, even as I don't know how to fully resolve this dichotomy in my spirit. Have we become so used to images being used to entertain that they no longer have the ability to evoke?
This is one of the difficulties of the modern world: we have become so visually dependent (and visually stimulated) that we can become unmoved to visuals of what we see occurring. It seems unreal: like a movie or video game we watch for entertainment.
A simple example: yesterday I watched a six minute video of the tsunami as it hit a town. The water continues to rush in, rising, then it starts to bring other things in: boxes, cars and trucks, a fishing boat, and finally the houses themselves are lifted off their foundations and carried away. An entire town, ruined. The lives of individuals, individuals like me, either destroyed or changed forever.
I hit stop on the video. I go outside to rake leaves in the yard. The sun is shining, it's 70 F, I open a cold beer before I start raking in the evening light with the birds singing. The whole thing seems unreal to me. I can sense the enormity of what I have seen but it doesn't seem to affect me the way I think it should.
I look around this morning as I type: my lights continue to run, the clock-ticking silence is unbroken by the sounds of sleeping family members, my coffee is hot in my hand. Meanwhile, survivors have entered Day 4 of freezing temperatures and uncertain food/water supplies - and in some cases, fears of radiation.
I don't know what to make of this entry fully, even as I don't know how to fully resolve this dichotomy in my spirit. Have we become so used to images being used to entertain that they no longer have the ability to evoke?
Monday, March 14, 2011
Raking Leaves
Back out to the leaves yesterday evening.
It's something I had been putting off pending -oh, I don't know, the end of the world - but still needing to be done. The initial large rake-off was done a month ago; however, leaves here in New Home continue to pour down from the oaks well into March. At some point it starts to damage a lawn, so it needed to be done. And, due to the fact of the time change, it was certainly light enough at 1830 to be out doing it.
As I started the routine of rake, rake, rake, get a bag and pour in, I looked up to see that Nighean Dhonn had come outside as well. Without saying anything to me, she had gone to get her plastic yellow shovel and started shoveling leaves into her bag.
We filled that bag and then another before I started to move down the lawn. She found another pile; unrequested, she went and got another paper lawn bag, figured out how to open it, and started shoveling leaves into that as well. She was raking with her shovel until I reminded her of the blue plastic rake; with that, she diligently sought to get the leaves corralled into a pile.
The two of us worked under the cloud-light evening sky, the air slightly warm with moisture: myself moving up and down the yard getting a long line of leaves, acorns and leaf mold into a line, her shoveling the leaves, re-raking the pile, then starting again.
When we surrendered to the oncoming darkness after an hour and a half, we had 6 thirty gallon bags full, including one that she had filled herself. The inside of my thumb/index finger areas of my hands tingling from the rake handles (even under gloves) promising the chance of blisters to come, we took one last look around, drank our water, and headed inside.
In the midst of such unsettled times - earthquakes, tsunamis, political unrest, economic uncertainty - it is often difficult to remind myself that there is much to life that remains pleasant and rewarding, even if I choose to not see it. Who am I to enjoy the privilege of spending time with my daughter doing something as mundane as raking leaves or playing Nintendo with her because that's what she wants to do?
One wonders if I chose to focus on these things in opposition to what I usually focus on, what my daily attitude would be like instead.
It's something I had been putting off pending -oh, I don't know, the end of the world - but still needing to be done. The initial large rake-off was done a month ago; however, leaves here in New Home continue to pour down from the oaks well into March. At some point it starts to damage a lawn, so it needed to be done. And, due to the fact of the time change, it was certainly light enough at 1830 to be out doing it.
As I started the routine of rake, rake, rake, get a bag and pour in, I looked up to see that Nighean Dhonn had come outside as well. Without saying anything to me, she had gone to get her plastic yellow shovel and started shoveling leaves into her bag.
We filled that bag and then another before I started to move down the lawn. She found another pile; unrequested, she went and got another paper lawn bag, figured out how to open it, and started shoveling leaves into that as well. She was raking with her shovel until I reminded her of the blue plastic rake; with that, she diligently sought to get the leaves corralled into a pile.
The two of us worked under the cloud-light evening sky, the air slightly warm with moisture: myself moving up and down the yard getting a long line of leaves, acorns and leaf mold into a line, her shoveling the leaves, re-raking the pile, then starting again.
When we surrendered to the oncoming darkness after an hour and a half, we had 6 thirty gallon bags full, including one that she had filled herself. The inside of my thumb/index finger areas of my hands tingling from the rake handles (even under gloves) promising the chance of blisters to come, we took one last look around, drank our water, and headed inside.
In the midst of such unsettled times - earthquakes, tsunamis, political unrest, economic uncertainty - it is often difficult to remind myself that there is much to life that remains pleasant and rewarding, even if I choose to not see it. Who am I to enjoy the privilege of spending time with my daughter doing something as mundane as raking leaves or playing Nintendo with her because that's what she wants to do?
One wonders if I chose to focus on these things in opposition to what I usually focus on, what my daily attitude would be like instead.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Pray for Japan
Today no post - instead, a request. Pray for Japan and her people, especially after the 8.9 Magnitude earthquake and 32 dead and destruction all up and down the 1300 mile coastline. Also remember the Pacific Islands, Hawai'i, and the North and South American Coast for potential Tsunamis.
32 (now 40) killed in major tsunami after 8.9 Japanese Quake
Tsunami Slams Northern Japan After Massive 8.9 Magnitude Earthquake Strikes Off Coast
32 (now 40) killed in major tsunami after 8.9 Japanese Quake
Tsunami Slams Northern Japan After Massive 8.9 Magnitude Earthquake Strikes Off Coast
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Depression Again?
This would be - should be - the part of the morning where I sit down and write a smart, well thought entry about some aspect of life.
Unfortunately, there are no smart, well though out entries this morning.
There is only the dull roar of another day.
This is not how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to have a life that was fulfilling, exciting, perhaps even a touch adventurous at times. Now, the adventure in my life constitutes if I will wake up at 0345 or 0430.
Looking at it honestly, I think I might be depressed - which is odd, because it does not seem like the depression that I am typically used to. Usually depression is a black cloud, a series of dark feelings that I simply cannot get out from under, a long sense of dull sadness.
This, if it is depression, is different. It's not a black cloud, it's the sense that life is constantly running away from me. It's a general sense of always being tired and never seeming to get enough sleep - but tortured by the fact that every hour of sleep is one less hour I get to spend awake doing something not job related. It's the rolling over and looking at the clock every morning to realize that it's another day, seemingly like the last one - with your mind already filling with everything you have to accomplish.
It's the leeching away of any sense of joy or anticipation of life, leaving behind the structure of living with nothing to replace it.
Unfortunately, there are no smart, well though out entries this morning.
There is only the dull roar of another day.
This is not how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to have a life that was fulfilling, exciting, perhaps even a touch adventurous at times. Now, the adventure in my life constitutes if I will wake up at 0345 or 0430.
Looking at it honestly, I think I might be depressed - which is odd, because it does not seem like the depression that I am typically used to. Usually depression is a black cloud, a series of dark feelings that I simply cannot get out from under, a long sense of dull sadness.
This, if it is depression, is different. It's not a black cloud, it's the sense that life is constantly running away from me. It's a general sense of always being tired and never seeming to get enough sleep - but tortured by the fact that every hour of sleep is one less hour I get to spend awake doing something not job related. It's the rolling over and looking at the clock every morning to realize that it's another day, seemingly like the last one - with your mind already filling with everything you have to accomplish.
It's the leeching away of any sense of joy or anticipation of life, leaving behind the structure of living with nothing to replace it.
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
Root Cause
"When a decision is made to cope with the symptoms of a problem, it is generally assumed that the corrective measures will solve the problem itself. They seldom do." - Masanobu Fukuoka, The One Straw Revolution
How good is the root cause analysis in our own lives?
Root cause analysis is simply the process of investigation a situation, be it a failure or not, to determine the fundamental reason why the problem or situation exists in the the first place. It is asking "Why?" until one gets to the true cause of the issue; it is the examination of inputs into a situation to determine all that are possible and which among them has the highest probability of being the originating (or major originating) cause.
It's more difficult that it sounds, because part of root cause analysis is continuing to ask questions to get to the true cause of a situation, not just the cause that you think is creating the situation. This can often be difficult and abrasive, because we often cherish our own illusions about what causes things instead of the actual cause of things.
But are we willing to practice the same root cause analysis on ourselves?
The reality is that the situation is no different. Each of us in our lives has failures, bad behaviors, even entire life situations which we would like to change but have no idea where to begin. Quick fixes often provide no solution, only a bridging of our guilt until the next round of occurance. For example, a simple situation would be to examine why do I feel depressed right now:
"Why do I feel depressed right now? Because I feel trapped in my life and situation."
"Why do I feel trapped in my life and situation? Because I feel there are no options or ability for significant change."
"Why do I feel there are no options or ability for significant change? Because to change means significant changes to the structure of my life."
"Why do I feel that change means significant changes to the structure of my life? Because any change would mean a change in income and lifestyle, which I don't know I am able to handle."
"So, a change which would mean an insiginficant change in income and lifestyle would be okay? Yes."
"Then what is that change?"
And so it goes. This is a pretty brief one and fairly generalized, but the Logic Tree approach works well. Notice that we've already seemingly ascertained that the reason for feeling trapped is I feel no options due to lifestyle and income. My choices then would be to change lifestyle, change to a similar income status, or perform the exercise again to see if I can narrow things down further.
The question in all of this is if I have the mental tenacity to do it. Am I willing to discover the true root cause, even if it implicates my most cherished beliefs, or will I hide behind lesser causes that may make me feel better but will change nothing?
How good is the root cause analysis in our own lives?
Root cause analysis is simply the process of investigation a situation, be it a failure or not, to determine the fundamental reason why the problem or situation exists in the the first place. It is asking "Why?" until one gets to the true cause of the issue; it is the examination of inputs into a situation to determine all that are possible and which among them has the highest probability of being the originating (or major originating) cause.
It's more difficult that it sounds, because part of root cause analysis is continuing to ask questions to get to the true cause of a situation, not just the cause that you think is creating the situation. This can often be difficult and abrasive, because we often cherish our own illusions about what causes things instead of the actual cause of things.
But are we willing to practice the same root cause analysis on ourselves?
The reality is that the situation is no different. Each of us in our lives has failures, bad behaviors, even entire life situations which we would like to change but have no idea where to begin. Quick fixes often provide no solution, only a bridging of our guilt until the next round of occurance. For example, a simple situation would be to examine why do I feel depressed right now:
"Why do I feel depressed right now? Because I feel trapped in my life and situation."
"Why do I feel trapped in my life and situation? Because I feel there are no options or ability for significant change."
"Why do I feel there are no options or ability for significant change? Because to change means significant changes to the structure of my life."
"Why do I feel that change means significant changes to the structure of my life? Because any change would mean a change in income and lifestyle, which I don't know I am able to handle."
"So, a change which would mean an insiginficant change in income and lifestyle would be okay? Yes."
"Then what is that change?"
And so it goes. This is a pretty brief one and fairly generalized, but the Logic Tree approach works well. Notice that we've already seemingly ascertained that the reason for feeling trapped is I feel no options due to lifestyle and income. My choices then would be to change lifestyle, change to a similar income status, or perform the exercise again to see if I can narrow things down further.
The question in all of this is if I have the mental tenacity to do it. Am I willing to discover the true root cause, even if it implicates my most cherished beliefs, or will I hide behind lesser causes that may make me feel better but will change nothing?
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Tuesday Blues
Struggling this morning with a subject to write about.
It stems from this horrible wave of sameness in my life - or, to quote my mind talking to myself this morning, "The sudden realization that the best years of your life are behind you."
The sameness of living permeates my life now. I awake predicatably at the same time at night, and wake up at the same time in the morning. My day, from the moment I get up to virtually the time I go to bed, has essentially become one long pre-programmed event of responsiblities and intereactions with occassional activities.
I keep trying to find little ways to spark up my life, to make small changes - but they seem to be inevitably overrun by the irresistable tide of entropy that constitutes most of my daily life.
I keep reminding myself that responsibility and accountability are good, mature traits to have, even as it feels that these very traits are the ones which are slowly plunging me beneath the surface of life by sheer weight.
Future? Dreams? Hopes? These things take less and less shape as the days go by, dissolved in the harsh light of a seeming reality that mandates that which must be done. Dreams and hopes almost become mockeries of themselves, vain imaginings reeking of the fantasies of youth.
"The sudden realization that the best years of your life are behind you." I'd say I state that with tongue in cheek, but I don't know that I really do. When life becomes measured in shorter and shorter increments of time, responsibilities, denials of desires and dreams, the long haul of "doing the right thing", the future seems to become not a bright sunrise of possibilities but the dull gray leaden sky of a clouded over sunset, promising rain.
It stems from this horrible wave of sameness in my life - or, to quote my mind talking to myself this morning, "The sudden realization that the best years of your life are behind you."
The sameness of living permeates my life now. I awake predicatably at the same time at night, and wake up at the same time in the morning. My day, from the moment I get up to virtually the time I go to bed, has essentially become one long pre-programmed event of responsiblities and intereactions with occassional activities.
I keep trying to find little ways to spark up my life, to make small changes - but they seem to be inevitably overrun by the irresistable tide of entropy that constitutes most of my daily life.
I keep reminding myself that responsibility and accountability are good, mature traits to have, even as it feels that these very traits are the ones which are slowly plunging me beneath the surface of life by sheer weight.
Future? Dreams? Hopes? These things take less and less shape as the days go by, dissolved in the harsh light of a seeming reality that mandates that which must be done. Dreams and hopes almost become mockeries of themselves, vain imaginings reeking of the fantasies of youth.
"The sudden realization that the best years of your life are behind you." I'd say I state that with tongue in cheek, but I don't know that I really do. When life becomes measured in shorter and shorter increments of time, responsibilities, denials of desires and dreams, the long haul of "doing the right thing", the future seems to become not a bright sunrise of possibilities but the dull gray leaden sky of a clouded over sunset, promising rain.
Monday, March 07, 2011
Encourager
Driving across West New Home yesterday, I suddenly realized something. I am a encourager.
Encourage? I find great value and worth in helping others to reach their potential, of seeing in themselves what they are capable of (what I already see in them). It brings me joy - great joy - see someone whom I have encouraged succeed as I knew they would.
I don't precisely know what to do with this discovery at the moment - all I can tell you is that I get some of the greatest pleasure I know in interacting with others - mostly close friends (and who would have thought that I would enjoy speaking with people!) - helping them to succeed at their dreams and goals.
Even in my daily job, I find myself spending 20-30% of my job effectively counseling and encouraging my fellow employees, working to keep spirits up and give them a place to vent their frustrations and worries (I've argued for years now that this is at least part of my daily job function).
How do I go from here? Well, the one thing it suggests is that if I am fulfilled by it and if I am making an impact with it (hopefully I am), then I should find a way to do more of that and less of the stuff that I don't enjoy doing so much. Life Coach? (Silverline's thought on the matter) Not sure - marketing and building a network are not my greatest skills a
nd I always have the concern of working for myself (even though ironically that is what I really want to do).
At the same time, if you find something you're good at, how long do wait before you do something about? Or in other words, if I can encourage others, why can't I encourage myself?
Encourage? I find great value and worth in helping others to reach their potential, of seeing in themselves what they are capable of (what I already see in them). It brings me joy - great joy - see someone whom I have encouraged succeed as I knew they would.
I don't precisely know what to do with this discovery at the moment - all I can tell you is that I get some of the greatest pleasure I know in interacting with others - mostly close friends (and who would have thought that I would enjoy speaking with people!) - helping them to succeed at their dreams and goals.
Even in my daily job, I find myself spending 20-30% of my job effectively counseling and encouraging my fellow employees, working to keep spirits up and give them a place to vent their frustrations and worries (I've argued for years now that this is at least part of my daily job function).
How do I go from here? Well, the one thing it suggests is that if I am fulfilled by it and if I am making an impact with it (hopefully I am), then I should find a way to do more of that and less of the stuff that I don't enjoy doing so much. Life Coach? (Silverline's thought on the matter) Not sure - marketing and building a network are not my greatest skills a
nd I always have the concern of working for myself (even though ironically that is what I really want to do).At the same time, if you find something you're good at, how long do wait before you do something about? Or in other words, if I can encourage others, why can't I encourage myself?
Friday, March 04, 2011
Semiar
Off to Iaido class this weekend.
The soke (head of our school) will be at the head school in the state where New Home is located. He comes maybe once a year, so this is a great opportunity to train with a man who, as our sensei said, has forgotten more iajutsu that he has ever learned.
It's also interesting (to me, at least) in that this is the first time since last year (absent traveling to Old Home) that I have been on some kind of vacation/retreat - at all, let alone with myself.
How does this intersection occur, the activity that I have come to treasure above all others and a short break from the reality of my life? How is it that I can find the time (and energy and money) to make this happen when so often I can't make other things happen?
One reason I suppose is simply that there is a simple input/reward ratio: I have been to seminar before and know how much I enjoy it and how much I learn from it. It is easily worth the effort to attend.
It's short term as well: it's only preparing for 2-3 months and then it is here. I can do the things I need to do to get ready for it.
But why can't I apply this sort of thinking to the other aspects of my life? Why do I feel like I have essentially hit a wall for anything else other than the status quo of my life? Why, essentially, do I feel powerless?
Interestingly, one of the things I like about Iaijutsu is the sense of myself, perhaps of power, that I get by doing it. Not by the fact I can suddenly attack with the sword; that's not the point. It's the sense of that I am learning and getting better at something, that the daily effort I put in results in an output that I can see, that by my stature and by my stand and by my sense of myself I can see that I am getting better, stronger. That makes me feel a bit more powerful about my life, if for no other reason than I am taking action to improve one element of my life which can impact others.
The question for me is how do I leverage that into the rest of my life?
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Motivational Speeches: Some Pointers
In the spirit of helping bosses give motivational speeches in these times of economic trial, I thought I might give a few pointers.
1) When giving a motivational speech, do not start by making offhanded comments about problems you are having with the individual, their coworkers, or their department.
2) If you ask for justifications of situations, do not shut down the response with "That's not really the point" or "That's too much detail".
3) If you ask for input or responses, listen to them. Don't roll over them with your own opinion.
4) Motivating people by saying "If you don't do this, I'll report it to my head and they'll make you do it" is probably not a successful strategy.
5) You say "accountability". People hear "reason to blame me".
6) If you don't talk about rewards in conjunction with accountability and responsibility, don't be surprised if they don't listen.
7) "Motivation" and "Motivational speeches" are not fire escapes for your own issues or inabilities.
8) If there is not some kind of link between you and the audience, your ability to motivate will be slender. Be sure to take the time to build that link.
9) If people have learned to distrust you, don't expect them to sudden "light up" when you try to motivate them.
10) True motivation speaks to what the individual wants and needs as well as what the organization wants and needs. Don't confuse your or the organization's needs for the individual's.
And the bonus line item:
11) Before trying to motivate others, take an honest look about why they may be demotivated. The answer may surprise you.
1) When giving a motivational speech, do not start by making offhanded comments about problems you are having with the individual, their coworkers, or their department.
2) If you ask for justifications of situations, do not shut down the response with "That's not really the point" or "That's too much detail".
3) If you ask for input or responses, listen to them. Don't roll over them with your own opinion.
4) Motivating people by saying "If you don't do this, I'll report it to my head and they'll make you do it" is probably not a successful strategy.
5) You say "accountability". People hear "reason to blame me".
6) If you don't talk about rewards in conjunction with accountability and responsibility, don't be surprised if they don't listen.
7) "Motivation" and "Motivational speeches" are not fire escapes for your own issues or inabilities.
8) If there is not some kind of link between you and the audience, your ability to motivate will be slender. Be sure to take the time to build that link.
9) If people have learned to distrust you, don't expect them to sudden "light up" when you try to motivate them.
10) True motivation speaks to what the individual wants and needs as well as what the organization wants and needs. Don't confuse your or the organization's needs for the individual's.
And the bonus line item:
11) Before trying to motivate others, take an honest look about why they may be demotivated. The answer may surprise you.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Contentment
I'm struggling today Lord, with contentment.
Life is not really bad, it just feels really busy.
I keep finding things that are falling off my list
of things I want to do,
replaced by that which must be done.
I wake up each morning thinking not
"What can I do today to move forward?" but
"What bits of myself do I get to keep?"
You say that Godliness with contentment is great gain;
sometimes if feels very hard to be content in the midst
of a growing workload and homeload and shrinking time.
How is it that I try to meet all my obligations
and the only person that seems to lose out is me?
Maybe there's something I'm supposed to learn here,
some lesson of diligence or patience;
the thing that bugs me is that maybe there's not
and the thing I am supposed to be learning I'm completely missing,
buried in the trivia of every day.
If I am meeting my obligations and the expectations of others,
why don't I feel better?
Is contentment being happy with what you have
or merely the acceptance of what is?
Life is not really bad, it just feels really busy.
I keep finding things that are falling off my list
of things I want to do,
replaced by that which must be done.
I wake up each morning thinking not
"What can I do today to move forward?" but
"What bits of myself do I get to keep?"
You say that Godliness with contentment is great gain;
sometimes if feels very hard to be content in the midst
of a growing workload and homeload and shrinking time.
How is it that I try to meet all my obligations
and the only person that seems to lose out is me?
Maybe there's something I'm supposed to learn here,
some lesson of diligence or patience;
the thing that bugs me is that maybe there's not
and the thing I am supposed to be learning I'm completely missing,
buried in the trivia of every day.
If I am meeting my obligations and the expectations of others,
why don't I feel better?
Is contentment being happy with what you have
or merely the acceptance of what is?
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Stuck
I'm feeling stuck.
Stuck in life. The sense that there is no real forward motion on any front in my life, nor that there is any retrograde motion as well. The sense that goals lead nowhere, hope is just another word for fantasy, and that trying anything outside of the narrow circumscribed limit that is my life simply doesn't matter.
I've no real idea where this has come from, although it seems to have surfaced about 2-3 weeks ago. I wish I could point to some signal event, something which would say "Hey, this is what started it" - but I can't.
What I do know is that every week, my life feels like it is getting pulled in tighter and tighter circles, like being sucked into a Maelstrom from which there is no escape. Time, once abundant, suddenly seems constrained beyond belief (see yesterday's post here). I suddenly seem to be at a dearth of projects - not that I don't have enough to do that I am interested in, but rather that new projects seem beyond my reach and old projects suddenly seem as if they lead nowhere.
There's a concept. Leading nowhere. That feels right enough as a description for my life right now, sort of stuck in traffic on the highway of life moving about 2 miles per hour in the far left lane, never able to move to the right and get to an off ramp.
I hate this feeling. I really do. It's as if I could close my eyes, go about my daily routine and suddenly wake up realizing it's 20 years later.
So here's the question: if I'm in a rut, and a rut is really a grave with both ends kicked out, how do I get out of it? Or (using a different metaphor) I'm mired in mud, how do I remove myself from the mire?
I wish I knew. All I do know is that this almost feels like a living death: inhabiting a body, moving around daily, yet scarcely living life.
Stuck in life. The sense that there is no real forward motion on any front in my life, nor that there is any retrograde motion as well. The sense that goals lead nowhere, hope is just another word for fantasy, and that trying anything outside of the narrow circumscribed limit that is my life simply doesn't matter.
I've no real idea where this has come from, although it seems to have surfaced about 2-3 weeks ago. I wish I could point to some signal event, something which would say "Hey, this is what started it" - but I can't.
What I do know is that every week, my life feels like it is getting pulled in tighter and tighter circles, like being sucked into a Maelstrom from which there is no escape. Time, once abundant, suddenly seems constrained beyond belief (see yesterday's post here). I suddenly seem to be at a dearth of projects - not that I don't have enough to do that I am interested in, but rather that new projects seem beyond my reach and old projects suddenly seem as if they lead nowhere.
There's a concept. Leading nowhere. That feels right enough as a description for my life right now, sort of stuck in traffic on the highway of life moving about 2 miles per hour in the far left lane, never able to move to the right and get to an off ramp.
I hate this feeling. I really do. It's as if I could close my eyes, go about my daily routine and suddenly wake up realizing it's 20 years later.
So here's the question: if I'm in a rut, and a rut is really a grave with both ends kicked out, how do I get out of it? Or (using a different metaphor) I'm mired in mud, how do I remove myself from the mire?
I wish I knew. All I do know is that this almost feels like a living death: inhabiting a body, moving around daily, yet scarcely living life.
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