Brand (n): A class of goods identified by name as the product of a single firm or manufacturer; a characteristic or distinctive kind.
How does a brand come to be? Every product we use, every person we know that is famous, at one time was as ordinary as any of the others. At one time, there were multiple computer makers including Apple; now, there is a brand of computer (Apple) and other companies that make computers.
Or individuals: there are certain actors or sports personnel or public personnel have such a reputation (brand) that they are almost guaranteed a success with whatever they participate in: JK Rowling (Author), James Cameron (Director), Dan Elway (Sports, both as player and manager),
In both cases, what they do has become so associated with who they are that by the very presence or name, a certain level of excitement is generated and a certain amount of success is guaranteed - it's not as if Hewlett-Packard were to annouce a new product release that they would ship 3 million units as Apple has recently.
So a brand is both an association with an individual or company (class of goods) as well as a reputation that comes with that individual or company (characteristic or distinctive kind).
But there's a second, older meaning of the word "brand" that also works: "A mark made by burning with a hot iron to attest manufacture or quality or to designate ownership."
We think of branded cattle of course, but throughout history a brand has been used on items (and not just wood; Japanese blades carry their own "branding" - the "mei" or signature on the blade) to indicate the manufacture by an individual (usually). The mark ("brand") becomes the sign that that object has a high probability of delivering the quality of the individual producer.
In the same manner, the mark of ownership also indicates a certain level of quality - if I see anything that is an broken down or slovenly condition with a company or corporate name attached, my impression of that company will probably drop, knowing nothing else except the fact that their mark is associated with something I personally don't want to be associated with.
All well and good. But on from the theoretical: If there are such things as brands (and there are), what do I do?
The first exercise is to understand what your brand is currently (we'll deal with what your brand could be tomorrow). So do this: sit down and treat yourself like a product. In a short paragraph make an effort to write down as clearly and unemotionally as possible what you believe your brand to currently be. Be honest: you only hurt yourself by pretending that your brand is other than what it is. Don't be brutal, of course, but if one of your brand marks is "I'm late all the time", put that in there.
If we are the product (and we are), then in order to improve our brand we have to understand what our brand is. But don't despair: Apple went from technological innovator to yesterday's news (remember when the stock was $14.00?) back to a technological innovator with a brand reputation that is among the highest in any industry (and a stock price over $600). The same is true for us, if only we can start by understanding the branding we consciously or unconsciously project to others.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
Personal Brand: Got One?
What is your personal brand?
I was challenged last week by the thought introduced by Brian Tracy in his book TurboCoach(chapter 20, for those of you following along at home). "You may be surprised", he says, "to learn that you are your most important product." And as a product, each of us has a reputation, an image, things that people attribute to us. "It is not a question of whether you should have a personal brand image, for you already have one. Rather, it is a question of whether you choose to consciously create your personal brand or merely leave it to chance."
If you think about it, it's absolutely true. We think of this on a personal level - we are so often counseled in our youth to "guard our reputation". We diligently work to build a body of work as we seek to enter college ("the well rounded application") and then continue to build on it as we go through school, seeking either greater schooling or that first job.
And then, for many of us, we simply seem to fall off the map. Why is this?
Because we abdicate personal responsibility for our brand. We simply start to coast rather than build - and as Tracy points out, "There's only one direction you can coast."
As we work, our reputation becomes enmeshed in that of which we are working as well as other factors: the politics of where we live, the department and career in which is work, the functionality of the company we are in. Suddenly, it feels as if our reputation is not so much under our control as it is under the control of factors which we don't control: the manager who manages poorly yet takes all our credit; other departments which take all we do and still maintain that we do it badly; the coworker whose poor efforts tarnish the efforts of the department. Too often, we slowly begin to settle for the brand that is determined for us.
Our brand never goes away, of course; it's just that we lose the belief that our input is as important as that of the factors around us.
This sort of thinking, if left alone and applied to its logical extent, will leave us in 20 years somewhat surprised that we have absolutely no brand, no reputation, outside of the one which we had when we came in - the items we "used to do" - along with whatever the factors around us have given us.
What to do? That's what we'll discuss this week. But the most important fact for today is to simply become aware of the fact that, whether we like it or not, we each have a personal brand.
And that it is our job to consciously manage it.
I was challenged last week by the thought introduced by Brian Tracy in his book TurboCoach(chapter 20, for those of you following along at home). "You may be surprised", he says, "to learn that you are your most important product." And as a product, each of us has a reputation, an image, things that people attribute to us. "It is not a question of whether you should have a personal brand image, for you already have one. Rather, it is a question of whether you choose to consciously create your personal brand or merely leave it to chance."
If you think about it, it's absolutely true. We think of this on a personal level - we are so often counseled in our youth to "guard our reputation". We diligently work to build a body of work as we seek to enter college ("the well rounded application") and then continue to build on it as we go through school, seeking either greater schooling or that first job.
And then, for many of us, we simply seem to fall off the map. Why is this?
Because we abdicate personal responsibility for our brand. We simply start to coast rather than build - and as Tracy points out, "There's only one direction you can coast."
As we work, our reputation becomes enmeshed in that of which we are working as well as other factors: the politics of where we live, the department and career in which is work, the functionality of the company we are in. Suddenly, it feels as if our reputation is not so much under our control as it is under the control of factors which we don't control: the manager who manages poorly yet takes all our credit; other departments which take all we do and still maintain that we do it badly; the coworker whose poor efforts tarnish the efforts of the department. Too often, we slowly begin to settle for the brand that is determined for us.
Our brand never goes away, of course; it's just that we lose the belief that our input is as important as that of the factors around us.
This sort of thinking, if left alone and applied to its logical extent, will leave us in 20 years somewhat surprised that we have absolutely no brand, no reputation, outside of the one which we had when we came in - the items we "used to do" - along with whatever the factors around us have given us.
What to do? That's what we'll discuss this week. But the most important fact for today is to simply become aware of the fact that, whether we like it or not, we each have a personal brand.
And that it is our job to consciously manage it.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Forest
Last night at Iaido we practiced a new drill. It was called the Forest Drill.
A series of stands (5-8) were set up with various items (hoops, balls, an exercise "thing") on them. The intent is that you move through the obstacles, striking each and insuring that you never leave your back to a "live" opponent.
The drill started slowly at first - after all, we've never done this before. The cuts and thrusts are choppy and the movements slow. Then, as we began to get better, our sensei moved the arrangement around and threw in a new twist: a live body at the end ready to cut. Now the objective was to hit each obstacle and then block and attack at the end.
After adjusting, two attackers were added. Then three. All while continuing to move through the obstacles, never leaving a back to an unhit opponent. Then the final opponent would attack twice. Then thrice.
It was the most fun I've had in a long time.
Fun? Actual "combat" is something we seldom practice (for obvious reasons), so the practice of doing what we train to do is novel. But beyond that, it's the actual practice of our practice: not just practicing cuts and kata, but having to use them quickly. Defending from a real attacker, rather than defending from a reflection in the mirror. Having to strike multiple opponents quickly and without hesitation yet thinking all the time about leaving no threats behind one as you move into the fray. Mentally preparing after all the obstacles for the live opponent - and then, during the obstacles, the live opponents - who will attack in ways you cannot defend against until the attack comes.
It was glorious.
By the time I was done I was sweating profusely, my throat rubbed raw by kiai-ing (shouting) after every cut.
It was hard - but at the same time easy. It was putting into practice what we train to do.
Would that all we trained for was put into practice regularly. What we not be capable of?
A series of stands (5-8) were set up with various items (hoops, balls, an exercise "thing") on them. The intent is that you move through the obstacles, striking each and insuring that you never leave your back to a "live" opponent.
The drill started slowly at first - after all, we've never done this before. The cuts and thrusts are choppy and the movements slow. Then, as we began to get better, our sensei moved the arrangement around and threw in a new twist: a live body at the end ready to cut. Now the objective was to hit each obstacle and then block and attack at the end.
After adjusting, two attackers were added. Then three. All while continuing to move through the obstacles, never leaving a back to an unhit opponent. Then the final opponent would attack twice. Then thrice.
It was the most fun I've had in a long time.
Fun? Actual "combat" is something we seldom practice (for obvious reasons), so the practice of doing what we train to do is novel. But beyond that, it's the actual practice of our practice: not just practicing cuts and kata, but having to use them quickly. Defending from a real attacker, rather than defending from a reflection in the mirror. Having to strike multiple opponents quickly and without hesitation yet thinking all the time about leaving no threats behind one as you move into the fray. Mentally preparing after all the obstacles for the live opponent - and then, during the obstacles, the live opponents - who will attack in ways you cannot defend against until the attack comes.
It was glorious.
By the time I was done I was sweating profusely, my throat rubbed raw by kiai-ing (shouting) after every cut.
It was hard - but at the same time easy. It was putting into practice what we train to do.
Would that all we trained for was put into practice regularly. What we not be capable of?
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Majesty
Nothing compares to the majesty of God.
I have seen the creativeness of humans. Over the last week I saw what humans with incredible talent and imagination can accomplish given enough time and resources. They can create illusions of flight; they can make fire explode in the sky timed to music or make water leap and dance as it is filled with lights and pictures. They can bring joy to the face of a child.
But last night, as I lay awake in the bed, I was reminded of the majesty of God.
To hear the boom of thunder - not thunder as I was raised, but the boom of long lasting thunder, thunder so deep and powerful it shook the house for 2o seconds; to see the repeated flashes of lightning that do not just light up the night sky but flood it with a brilliance; to hear and see the cascading rain as it not only reflects the lightning but as it fills the lakes and streams and aquifers to provide water for all of life - is to be reminded of the majesty and power of God.
To hear and see all this - to stand in the door frame at the dead of night and be confronted with the reality of the nature that God has created and how, in the end, our individual creativity can only mimic, not equal - to see all of this and take it in and allow oneself to be flooded with the glory and power of the creation and to look up at Him who created all of this - is to allow oneself to be reminded visibly and powerful of the majesty of God.
I have seen the creativeness of humans. Over the last week I saw what humans with incredible talent and imagination can accomplish given enough time and resources. They can create illusions of flight; they can make fire explode in the sky timed to music or make water leap and dance as it is filled with lights and pictures. They can bring joy to the face of a child.
But last night, as I lay awake in the bed, I was reminded of the majesty of God.
To hear the boom of thunder - not thunder as I was raised, but the boom of long lasting thunder, thunder so deep and powerful it shook the house for 2o seconds; to see the repeated flashes of lightning that do not just light up the night sky but flood it with a brilliance; to hear and see the cascading rain as it not only reflects the lightning but as it fills the lakes and streams and aquifers to provide water for all of life - is to be reminded of the majesty and power of God.
To hear and see all this - to stand in the door frame at the dead of night and be confronted with the reality of the nature that God has created and how, in the end, our individual creativity can only mimic, not equal - to see all of this and take it in and allow oneself to be flooded with the glory and power of the creation and to look up at Him who created all of this - is to allow oneself to be reminded visibly and powerful of the majesty of God.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Returning
"I found my calling. It didn't come to me, I came to it. It was a bolt of lightning that didn't make a sound. It struck me in the brain and went all the way through my heart. Sometimes you have to look for your calling. Sometimes you have to feel it. Callings are mostly silent." - Jeffrey Gitomer
The return from vacation - a real vacation - is always something of a tonic for me, at least that period of time after I've gotten home but before I've become enmeshed in the realities of work. The fact that we returned from The Happiest Place on Earth certainly helps - it is such a monument to creativity, to the power of what is possible, that one cannot help but return recharged in mind and spirit.
To face the reality of life.
Reality. There's a concept. As I write this, I cannot estimate how many e-mails await me in my inbox crying out for resolution, how many people are waiting to corral me once I come in with the "Hey, Good to see you back, hope you had fun, here's my problem". The heights of refreshment, seemingly ready to be brought down in short order.
But let's be honest about it: I chose this.
Yes, I know, one has to have a job (and life) of course, and one can never look too far into the future to see how things will turn out. But the reality is that once I became aware, I chose to stay.
But there are two choices I can make:
1) Choose my attitude. Things will bother me only if I let them. I need to put work - and those who work there - in the proper frame of reference. I need to control it and them, not the other way around.
2) Change my circumstances. This can come in a number of ways: changing where I work, changing what I work at, changing how I work on the things that are really important. If one does not like the circumstances, change the circumstances.
The funny thing is that, looking at the past week and the upcoming one, I could tell you what I think my calling is. It's very different than one I am doing now, and the odd thing is that I could do both (best of all worlds, right?). The question is just a matter of will.
So then, who will win: me, or my circumstances?
The return from vacation - a real vacation - is always something of a tonic for me, at least that period of time after I've gotten home but before I've become enmeshed in the realities of work. The fact that we returned from The Happiest Place on Earth certainly helps - it is such a monument to creativity, to the power of what is possible, that one cannot help but return recharged in mind and spirit.
To face the reality of life.
Reality. There's a concept. As I write this, I cannot estimate how many e-mails await me in my inbox crying out for resolution, how many people are waiting to corral me once I come in with the "Hey, Good to see you back, hope you had fun, here's my problem". The heights of refreshment, seemingly ready to be brought down in short order.
But let's be honest about it: I chose this.
Yes, I know, one has to have a job (and life) of course, and one can never look too far into the future to see how things will turn out. But the reality is that once I became aware, I chose to stay.
But there are two choices I can make:
1) Choose my attitude. Things will bother me only if I let them. I need to put work - and those who work there - in the proper frame of reference. I need to control it and them, not the other way around.
2) Change my circumstances. This can come in a number of ways: changing where I work, changing what I work at, changing how I work on the things that are really important. If one does not like the circumstances, change the circumstances.
The funny thing is that, looking at the past week and the upcoming one, I could tell you what I think my calling is. It's very different than one I am doing now, and the odd thing is that I could do both (best of all worlds, right?). The question is just a matter of will.
So then, who will win: me, or my circumstances?
Monday, March 12, 2012
Vacation
Dear Readers:
I'm doing something I haven't done in 3 years on this blog: I'm taking a week off.
We're already here at The Happiest Place on Earth, after 2 days of long travel in the car, looking forward to 3 days of fun-filled family excitement.
If I write, I will. If not, don't take it badly - I'm exhausted but having a good time!
I'm doing something I haven't done in 3 years on this blog: I'm taking a week off.
We're already here at The Happiest Place on Earth, after 2 days of long travel in the car, looking forward to 3 days of fun-filled family excitement.
If I write, I will. If not, don't take it badly - I'm exhausted but having a good time!
Friday, March 09, 2012
Thursday, March 08, 2012
A Little Matter of Perspective
Last night Nighean Gheal and I were praying. As we were going through our prayer requests, she included people that had been affected by the recent tornado and one of her teachers who had suffered a death in the family, as well as for safe travels during our vacation. After we finished and I was heading out of her room, she said "Dad, it seems weird."
"Weird" I replied?
"Weird. We're praying for us to have a safe trip at the same time we're praying for the people in tornadoes and my teacher's family death. It just seems weird."
Perspective. That's the word that popped into my head as I finished saying good night and headed back to my room.
Oftentimes we as individuals, and certainly we as a society, have lost perspective. We fall into one of two errors: either we treat everything as mattering the same, or we treat the things that are not significant as if they are.
Think about it: my relationship with my children and my completion of every minor element at my job have two very different long term effects and outcomes - but too often, what do I treat as being the most important? Work becomes the thing I get exercised about and concerned about; other things get placed into the sidebars of my life.
Which of these truly matters more? Which of these is truly more significant? The job? - there will always be something else I do (in my industry, I've worked at 8 companies) - or my children, my relationship with them, and impact of that relationship on the future.
Or to the discussion last night - we should certainly pray about all things, but do I give them different weight in my own mind? Do I truly rank how I pray to the great needs, or are all needs equal?
Perspective can change, if we will let it. It just entails deciding: what is truly important, and what is not - and living with those decisions. Because, once you've decided, the things of importance will dominate the perspective and how one acts, leaving those things of lesser value to be swept away in the stream of time.
"Weird" I replied?
"Weird. We're praying for us to have a safe trip at the same time we're praying for the people in tornadoes and my teacher's family death. It just seems weird."
Perspective. That's the word that popped into my head as I finished saying good night and headed back to my room.
Oftentimes we as individuals, and certainly we as a society, have lost perspective. We fall into one of two errors: either we treat everything as mattering the same, or we treat the things that are not significant as if they are.
Think about it: my relationship with my children and my completion of every minor element at my job have two very different long term effects and outcomes - but too often, what do I treat as being the most important? Work becomes the thing I get exercised about and concerned about; other things get placed into the sidebars of my life.
Which of these truly matters more? Which of these is truly more significant? The job? - there will always be something else I do (in my industry, I've worked at 8 companies) - or my children, my relationship with them, and impact of that relationship on the future.
Or to the discussion last night - we should certainly pray about all things, but do I give them different weight in my own mind? Do I truly rank how I pray to the great needs, or are all needs equal?
Perspective can change, if we will let it. It just entails deciding: what is truly important, and what is not - and living with those decisions. Because, once you've decided, the things of importance will dominate the perspective and how one acts, leaving those things of lesser value to be swept away in the stream of time.
Wednesday, March 07, 2012
Defeat
From the heights of confidence to the depths of despair in one day.
There's nothing like coming home at the end of the day in which you had started out so strong to find that you are completely undone.
Sure, there were a lot of factors: the sudden realization that you are completely filling the position of someone before you except two levels (and two paygrades) below them, including the part where you have become "legally liable"; the mysterious expenses that continually seem to nibble away at any attempt for a budget; the fact that unlike every department around you, you are truly on your own in terms of management or collegial support; a potential interview suddenly looks like it's much less of a good deal; and the simple fact that you woke up essentially at 0230 and didn't really successfully go back to sleep.
It's made essentially more disheartening by the fact that that very more, you were brimming with confidence that "You can" - but by the time you crawl into bed, it's more a weak call of "Well, maybe I could possibly..."
So what do you do? Well, this morning I went through the same routine I did the day before. Yes, I didn't feel nearly as confident as I did yesterday, but I did the activities anyway. Am I feeling any more confident? No, not really - I tried to manufacture the sensation, but it doesn't seem to have worked.
But maybe that is okay. Maybe that is part of the whole process - not just that self belief, but simply the will to get up after a day of defeats and try again. Even that process of trying, perhaps, is a form of self belief.
Once more into the breech dear friends, once more.
There's nothing like coming home at the end of the day in which you had started out so strong to find that you are completely undone.
Sure, there were a lot of factors: the sudden realization that you are completely filling the position of someone before you except two levels (and two paygrades) below them, including the part where you have become "legally liable"; the mysterious expenses that continually seem to nibble away at any attempt for a budget; the fact that unlike every department around you, you are truly on your own in terms of management or collegial support; a potential interview suddenly looks like it's much less of a good deal; and the simple fact that you woke up essentially at 0230 and didn't really successfully go back to sleep.
It's made essentially more disheartening by the fact that that very more, you were brimming with confidence that "You can" - but by the time you crawl into bed, it's more a weak call of "Well, maybe I could possibly..."
So what do you do? Well, this morning I went through the same routine I did the day before. Yes, I didn't feel nearly as confident as I did yesterday, but I did the activities anyway. Am I feeling any more confident? No, not really - I tried to manufacture the sensation, but it doesn't seem to have worked.
But maybe that is okay. Maybe that is part of the whole process - not just that self belief, but simply the will to get up after a day of defeats and try again. Even that process of trying, perhaps, is a form of self belief.
Once more into the breech dear friends, once more.
Tuesday, March 06, 2012
Self Belief
"Circumstances don't define you; where you are is not who you are." - mother of Ursula Burns, Xerox CEO
I suffer from a lack of Self Belief.
I'm not really sure where this originates from. It's not as if I did not have incredibly supportive parents that supported my various activities growing up (some of which worked well, some of which were somewhat less than successful) and it's not as if I have not had my share of success moving through life. But fundamentally, down deep, I lack belief in myself.
Self belief, in case you were wondering, is not the same as self love. I abhor the concept of self love based on the fact that I know all too well the sin and failures that dwell in my life. To love that is which is unlovable is to enable that which should not be enabled. But belief in self is not the same as self love; it's the concept that one is competent, one is capable. Simply put, I can.
This is something that while we can gather from others, we cannot maintain with others. Without self belief, all the propping up our friends and loved ones do will come to naught and we will find ourselves again at the same level we have always been. We'll be surprised, of course, and wonder why this or that didn't work, then bewail a cruel universe that destines us to this place.
Self belief is not deterred by circumstances. It neither is added to when others support us, nor is it subtracted from when no-one believes but ourselves. It presses on towards whatever the goal that has been set for it, confident that it will make it there.
Self belief does not look for handouts. It does not look to what others can do for it or what others owe it; it accepts the fact that while individuals can assist, ultimately the person is responsible for the success or failure in their lives. It has learned that the greatest achievement comes from that which is achieved, not simply "feeling good" about who the person is.
It believes that far more things are possible than what we think. We are not omniscient and are are not God to be sure; but we are far more capable of doing great things than what we allow ourselves to believe.
As I learned this morning, the CEO of Xerox, Ursula Burns, started as an executive assistant and worked her way up. The circumstances of her origin did not determine the eventual point to which she arrived. It is evident that she believed she was capable of far more than what she was doing - and she took action to make that self belief reality.
If you really believed in yourself and your God-given skills and talents, what are you capable of?
I suffer from a lack of Self Belief.
I'm not really sure where this originates from. It's not as if I did not have incredibly supportive parents that supported my various activities growing up (some of which worked well, some of which were somewhat less than successful) and it's not as if I have not had my share of success moving through life. But fundamentally, down deep, I lack belief in myself.
Self belief, in case you were wondering, is not the same as self love. I abhor the concept of self love based on the fact that I know all too well the sin and failures that dwell in my life. To love that is which is unlovable is to enable that which should not be enabled. But belief in self is not the same as self love; it's the concept that one is competent, one is capable. Simply put, I can.
This is something that while we can gather from others, we cannot maintain with others. Without self belief, all the propping up our friends and loved ones do will come to naught and we will find ourselves again at the same level we have always been. We'll be surprised, of course, and wonder why this or that didn't work, then bewail a cruel universe that destines us to this place.
Self belief is not deterred by circumstances. It neither is added to when others support us, nor is it subtracted from when no-one believes but ourselves. It presses on towards whatever the goal that has been set for it, confident that it will make it there.
Self belief does not look for handouts. It does not look to what others can do for it or what others owe it; it accepts the fact that while individuals can assist, ultimately the person is responsible for the success or failure in their lives. It has learned that the greatest achievement comes from that which is achieved, not simply "feeling good" about who the person is.
It believes that far more things are possible than what we think. We are not omniscient and are are not God to be sure; but we are far more capable of doing great things than what we allow ourselves to believe.
As I learned this morning, the CEO of Xerox, Ursula Burns, started as an executive assistant and worked her way up. The circumstances of her origin did not determine the eventual point to which she arrived. It is evident that she believed she was capable of far more than what she was doing - and she took action to make that self belief reality.
If you really believed in yourself and your God-given skills and talents, what are you capable of?
Monday, March 05, 2012
Rust
Yesterday I undertook a task that I was putting off all week. Sword cleaning.
Not just the typical cleaning and oiling of the blade - no this was a full cleaning: removing the mekugi (bamboo pins that hold in the sword), pulling off the tsuka (hilt), removing the fittings - seppa, tsuba, seppa, and hibaki - and cleaning the nakago (tang) of the blade.
I always freak out about this a bit, mostly because of the fact that I tend to have the ability to not reassemble things in their original order. Still, the potential of rust overcame my fear of having to drag an unfinished blade to class for assembly, so off we did.
Upon pulling everything apart (which went better than expected), I found that I did in fact have a problem: a patch of rust on both sides of the nakago where the hibaki (a brass fitting which covers the transition of the tang to the full blade. There was some rust on the fittings as well, but it was the worst under the hibaki.
I sat for almost an hour trying to work things off: applying metal polish, letting it dry, working on the smaller pieces, rubbing it down, reapplying, all the time wondering "how could it have gotten so far?" My guess, after looking at everything, is that the last time that I cleaned the whole blade - when I rewrapped my tsuka - is that I failed to completely oil the inside of the hibaki, which when in contact with the blade, created the rust. I don't clean the entire sword as often - I'd like to say it's because I'm too busy (it really takes about an hour), but more likely it's due to the fact that I'm more lazy that busy. It appears that this failure to regularly maintain all aspects of the sword is what contributed to the rust.
I finally finished removing most of what I could get at then oiled everything heavily and reassembled the entire sword. Looking at it from the outside, you cannot tell anything was really wrong - there was one faint dark line under the hibaki that gave rise to the whole incident.
True, it is just about my sword. But like everything else, Iaido is really life, and the lessons of iaido are transferable to more than just the dojo.
Even like the nakago of the sword, we are both outer and inner. To let one go - to be so concerned about polishing the outer side and preventing rust - while forgetting about the other is to eventually invite disaster. With enough rust, a nakago will be rendered useless, and so too the sword. Thus we must pay attentiong to maintaining both the outer and inner person, even as we maintain the outer and inner blade. Rust on either will destroy its usefulness.
Rusty nakagos may be easily repaired. Rust on the soul is far more difficult to efface.
Not just the typical cleaning and oiling of the blade - no this was a full cleaning: removing the mekugi (bamboo pins that hold in the sword), pulling off the tsuka (hilt), removing the fittings - seppa, tsuba, seppa, and hibaki - and cleaning the nakago (tang) of the blade.
I always freak out about this a bit, mostly because of the fact that I tend to have the ability to not reassemble things in their original order. Still, the potential of rust overcame my fear of having to drag an unfinished blade to class for assembly, so off we did.
Upon pulling everything apart (which went better than expected), I found that I did in fact have a problem: a patch of rust on both sides of the nakago where the hibaki (a brass fitting which covers the transition of the tang to the full blade. There was some rust on the fittings as well, but it was the worst under the hibaki.
I sat for almost an hour trying to work things off: applying metal polish, letting it dry, working on the smaller pieces, rubbing it down, reapplying, all the time wondering "how could it have gotten so far?" My guess, after looking at everything, is that the last time that I cleaned the whole blade - when I rewrapped my tsuka - is that I failed to completely oil the inside of the hibaki, which when in contact with the blade, created the rust. I don't clean the entire sword as often - I'd like to say it's because I'm too busy (it really takes about an hour), but more likely it's due to the fact that I'm more lazy that busy. It appears that this failure to regularly maintain all aspects of the sword is what contributed to the rust.
I finally finished removing most of what I could get at then oiled everything heavily and reassembled the entire sword. Looking at it from the outside, you cannot tell anything was really wrong - there was one faint dark line under the hibaki that gave rise to the whole incident.
True, it is just about my sword. But like everything else, Iaido is really life, and the lessons of iaido are transferable to more than just the dojo.
Even like the nakago of the sword, we are both outer and inner. To let one go - to be so concerned about polishing the outer side and preventing rust - while forgetting about the other is to eventually invite disaster. With enough rust, a nakago will be rendered useless, and so too the sword. Thus we must pay attentiong to maintaining both the outer and inner person, even as we maintain the outer and inner blade. Rust on either will destroy its usefulness.
Rusty nakagos may be easily repaired. Rust on the soul is far more difficult to efface.
Friday, March 02, 2012
Thursday, March 01, 2012
Resourcing Conundrum
I find myself caught in the conundrum of modern American labor: what to do?
I feel as if I am trapped between the Scylla of high and growing expectations and the Charybdis of the modern workplace. On the one hand (just as everywhere else), expectations are high and growing. We are doing more than ever and trying to ensure we meet all the expectations of the marketplace we work in. On the other hand, what I'm finding is that the resources we have are not sufficient for what we have.
Resources are a funny thing in current American business. There seem to be two types of companies: those that are able or willing to resource appropriately, and those that cannot or will not.
The distinction is important. There are, in my experience, companies which would increase their resources if they could but cannot due to budget and other constraints. Then there are others which, while they might have the resources to do so, will not.
The second part of the conundrum - beyond the the "do more with no more" part - is that resourcing is seemingly the one thing you cannot discuss.
Reputations, we are told, are build on individuals doing more with less. Do not seek to build empires - seek to be more efficient, to be resource conservator rather than a resource spender, for this is the way to true success. Too often, to suggest that additional resources are needed is to imply that one is incompetent, not able to fulfill the duties one was hired for - let alone seek to achieve more.
Mistakes or failures due to resourcing become the issue never discussed, the elephant in the room. It simply is not discussed, as it becomes the thing by which other people point and discuss the failure to perform.
Other paths can be tried, of course. Efficiencies can be sought. Items can be delegated and departments can be empowered (however, all the delegation and empowerment will not assist in completing something if the will is not there). Plans and programs can be drawn up and rolled out with great fanfare.
But that still leaves the issue: how does one meet the expectations that are given based on the resources available when, deep in one's heart, it is simply not enough and there is no way of securing the sufficient amount?
I feel as if I am trapped between the Scylla of high and growing expectations and the Charybdis of the modern workplace. On the one hand (just as everywhere else), expectations are high and growing. We are doing more than ever and trying to ensure we meet all the expectations of the marketplace we work in. On the other hand, what I'm finding is that the resources we have are not sufficient for what we have.
Resources are a funny thing in current American business. There seem to be two types of companies: those that are able or willing to resource appropriately, and those that cannot or will not.
The distinction is important. There are, in my experience, companies which would increase their resources if they could but cannot due to budget and other constraints. Then there are others which, while they might have the resources to do so, will not.
The second part of the conundrum - beyond the the "do more with no more" part - is that resourcing is seemingly the one thing you cannot discuss.
Reputations, we are told, are build on individuals doing more with less. Do not seek to build empires - seek to be more efficient, to be resource conservator rather than a resource spender, for this is the way to true success. Too often, to suggest that additional resources are needed is to imply that one is incompetent, not able to fulfill the duties one was hired for - let alone seek to achieve more.
Mistakes or failures due to resourcing become the issue never discussed, the elephant in the room. It simply is not discussed, as it becomes the thing by which other people point and discuss the failure to perform.
Other paths can be tried, of course. Efficiencies can be sought. Items can be delegated and departments can be empowered (however, all the delegation and empowerment will not assist in completing something if the will is not there). Plans and programs can be drawn up and rolled out with great fanfare.
But that still leaves the issue: how does one meet the expectations that are given based on the resources available when, deep in one's heart, it is simply not enough and there is no way of securing the sufficient amount?
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Plateau
Try to find my way in the increased world of higher expectations.
There comes a point in every activity, every job, every relationship where one realizes two things:
1) This is a good as it it going to get. The limit has been reached.
2) The resources you have are the resources you are going to get. Further aid or support is a pipe dream.
What I would like to hear from myself is that this has given me greater clarity in my life. Instead, it seems only to have given me greater stress.
Stress? Yes, stress originating from the fact that the expectations and resources behind the situation generally have not changed. The goals are still the same and the resources are still what they have been. You are expected to perform at the same level as previously or even better - and Heaven forfend you should mention the lack of either. The expectation - always the expectation - is that you are an adult, and whatever sacrifices are necessary for the accomplishment of the task are presumed.
Adapt or die. The New Normal.
The stress results in a high level of frustration as well. I tack back and forth in my emotional state between a bland sense of acceptance of the situation as it is and a high level of anger about lashing out and making others deal with the same situation. Neither, of course, is correct.
But what then is correct? Work harder at the job or project or relationship? There are only a certain amount of hours in a day to accomplish things. Work smarter? I'm never really sure what that means - that becomes a never ending target that is judged by others about how "smart" you are working.
It's as if there was some revolution on the tip of my mind, something floating just beyond the reach of consciousness that has some kind of solution. I can feel hovering there, seemingly waiting to be discovered.
But is it there? Or is another attempt by mind simply to veer aside from the realities that exist and cannot change?
There comes a point in every activity, every job, every relationship where one realizes two things:
1) This is a good as it it going to get. The limit has been reached.
2) The resources you have are the resources you are going to get. Further aid or support is a pipe dream.
What I would like to hear from myself is that this has given me greater clarity in my life. Instead, it seems only to have given me greater stress.
Stress? Yes, stress originating from the fact that the expectations and resources behind the situation generally have not changed. The goals are still the same and the resources are still what they have been. You are expected to perform at the same level as previously or even better - and Heaven forfend you should mention the lack of either. The expectation - always the expectation - is that you are an adult, and whatever sacrifices are necessary for the accomplishment of the task are presumed.
Adapt or die. The New Normal.
The stress results in a high level of frustration as well. I tack back and forth in my emotional state between a bland sense of acceptance of the situation as it is and a high level of anger about lashing out and making others deal with the same situation. Neither, of course, is correct.
But what then is correct? Work harder at the job or project or relationship? There are only a certain amount of hours in a day to accomplish things. Work smarter? I'm never really sure what that means - that becomes a never ending target that is judged by others about how "smart" you are working.
It's as if there was some revolution on the tip of my mind, something floating just beyond the reach of consciousness that has some kind of solution. I can feel hovering there, seemingly waiting to be discovered.
But is it there? Or is another attempt by mind simply to veer aside from the realities that exist and cannot change?
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Despondency At Work
Strangely despondent at work yesterday.
I can't really trace it down to a single factor. It's not as if work was more overwhelming than it has been in the past. It's not as if it was the middle of the week (it was Monday). It's not as if the people that usually bother me were there (they were not).
So what was up?
The only thing that I can pin down is a sense of the overwhelming. A sense of reviewing document after document, knowing that there are (literally) at least a thousand more behind them needing review as well. A sense of the fact that no matter how much I do in the time I'm there, I leave with just as much work there as I arrived with. A sense of the fact that, longer term, all the effort is doomed to fail.
Would it help if there were victories? Sure - but as I've discovered, victories are not recognized as such. They are, apparently, merely expectations of things that were supposed to be accomplished, not significant milestones along the way. This alone can make any advancement towards future "victories" very difficult to achieve.
Would I find less despondency if I would doing something else? Hard to say - at this point, I can scarcely imagine doing anything else other than what I am doing now (which may be part of the problem). Would I find less despondency if I was doing what I am doing somewhere else? Again, hard to say - every location has it's own specific issues, and it really seems to be a case of the grass always appears greener wherever you are.
But the question remains: How does one fight the sense of one's effort amounting to nothing, every day?
I can't really trace it down to a single factor. It's not as if work was more overwhelming than it has been in the past. It's not as if it was the middle of the week (it was Monday). It's not as if the people that usually bother me were there (they were not).
So what was up?
The only thing that I can pin down is a sense of the overwhelming. A sense of reviewing document after document, knowing that there are (literally) at least a thousand more behind them needing review as well. A sense of the fact that no matter how much I do in the time I'm there, I leave with just as much work there as I arrived with. A sense of the fact that, longer term, all the effort is doomed to fail.
Would it help if there were victories? Sure - but as I've discovered, victories are not recognized as such. They are, apparently, merely expectations of things that were supposed to be accomplished, not significant milestones along the way. This alone can make any advancement towards future "victories" very difficult to achieve.
Would I find less despondency if I would doing something else? Hard to say - at this point, I can scarcely imagine doing anything else other than what I am doing now (which may be part of the problem). Would I find less despondency if I was doing what I am doing somewhere else? Again, hard to say - every location has it's own specific issues, and it really seems to be a case of the grass always appears greener wherever you are.
But the question remains: How does one fight the sense of one's effort amounting to nothing, every day?
Monday, February 27, 2012
Traveling and Scheduling
I am rediscovering that I am a creature of schedules and habit.
One thing that traveling always does for (to?) me is that it shakes me out of the schedule I have arranged for my life. One might say on the macro side it is good: it helps one to see new things and expand one's world. However, on the micro side, it's terrible.
Over the course of the last two years I have carefully worked to find the optimal schedule for my time away when I'm not work. My mornings have fluctuated only a little over the last two years, my evenings more so. It's an attempt on my part to practice the most important things I have in my life given the time that I have available. Within a hair's breath (and given enough sleep the night before) I have created a fairly detailed list of what I need to do in the morning and even can (with a fair degree of accuracy) tell you what I am doing given at a particular time.
Traveling changes that, of course. And not only during the actual traveling experience. What I have found is that it disrupts my schedule for up to a week after - not just in missed sleep (which seems to happen all to frequently) but in trying to re-establish my routine in the morning. It's almost as if my "routine equilibrium" was so disorganized that it takes a while for my inner self to refind its balance and get reset.
It's troubling, of course, because I always tend to lose the progress I've made as I try to re-establish what I was doing. And it's interesting to me, because I may be more usual - or maybe unusual - than I thought: where many people wither on routine, I thrive.
One thing that traveling always does for (to?) me is that it shakes me out of the schedule I have arranged for my life. One might say on the macro side it is good: it helps one to see new things and expand one's world. However, on the micro side, it's terrible.
Over the course of the last two years I have carefully worked to find the optimal schedule for my time away when I'm not work. My mornings have fluctuated only a little over the last two years, my evenings more so. It's an attempt on my part to practice the most important things I have in my life given the time that I have available. Within a hair's breath (and given enough sleep the night before) I have created a fairly detailed list of what I need to do in the morning and even can (with a fair degree of accuracy) tell you what I am doing given at a particular time.
Traveling changes that, of course. And not only during the actual traveling experience. What I have found is that it disrupts my schedule for up to a week after - not just in missed sleep (which seems to happen all to frequently) but in trying to re-establish my routine in the morning. It's almost as if my "routine equilibrium" was so disorganized that it takes a while for my inner self to refind its balance and get reset.
It's troubling, of course, because I always tend to lose the progress I've made as I try to re-establish what I was doing. And it's interesting to me, because I may be more usual - or maybe unusual - than I thought: where many people wither on routine, I thrive.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Panning for Truth
"Truth, like gold, is to be obtained not be its growth, but by washing away from it all that is not gold." - Leo Tolstoy
How do we seek and deal with the truth? Do we believe it to be something that is ever expanding and accretive process, or is it something that we need to work at by paring away all that is not the truth until we arrive at it?
It's not as idle a conversation as one might think. In our social lives, in our work lives, in our political lives, even in our personal lives, there is a great discussion of what truth is and, therefore, how we are to run our lives.
It's not, as Pilate asked Christ, "What is truth?" in the sense of the nature of truth. It's "How do we obtain the truth?"
Does truth grow? Is it an evolving thing? Or is it something, as Tolstoy seems to suggest, that is not so much grown as it is mined by removing all that is not truth?
Gold panning, for those that don't know, is essentially this process. First by eliminating larger rocks, the miner agitates the remaining mud and gravel in a pan with water. As the material is agitated, the heavier items (including gold) fall to the bottom of the pan as the lighter material is washed away. This process is repeated over and over until all that is remaining is gold.
Has the the gold grown in the process of panning? The unwise might say "Yes it has, as the over time more and more is in the bottom of the pan." The wise would respond "It has not grown. The amount has increased, but only in relationship to the amount of material panned to get that gold" (and trust me, you have to pan a lot of material to get a little gold).
So here is the question: are teaching others - indeed, are we teaching ourselves - to pan for truth as for gold, to mine it out of Life as we would seek anything else precious and worthy? It's the same as panning, after all: you have to go through a lot of dirt and rocks to get that which is most precious and even then, you have to continue to wash away everything that is not what you seek until you find it.
How do we seek and deal with the truth? Do we believe it to be something that is ever expanding and accretive process, or is it something that we need to work at by paring away all that is not the truth until we arrive at it?
It's not as idle a conversation as one might think. In our social lives, in our work lives, in our political lives, even in our personal lives, there is a great discussion of what truth is and, therefore, how we are to run our lives.
It's not, as Pilate asked Christ, "What is truth?" in the sense of the nature of truth. It's "How do we obtain the truth?"
Does truth grow? Is it an evolving thing? Or is it something, as Tolstoy seems to suggest, that is not so much grown as it is mined by removing all that is not truth?
Gold panning, for those that don't know, is essentially this process. First by eliminating larger rocks, the miner agitates the remaining mud and gravel in a pan with water. As the material is agitated, the heavier items (including gold) fall to the bottom of the pan as the lighter material is washed away. This process is repeated over and over until all that is remaining is gold.
Has the the gold grown in the process of panning? The unwise might say "Yes it has, as the over time more and more is in the bottom of the pan." The wise would respond "It has not grown. The amount has increased, but only in relationship to the amount of material panned to get that gold" (and trust me, you have to pan a lot of material to get a little gold).
So here is the question: are teaching others - indeed, are we teaching ourselves - to pan for truth as for gold, to mine it out of Life as we would seek anything else precious and worthy? It's the same as panning, after all: you have to go through a lot of dirt and rocks to get that which is most precious and even then, you have to continue to wash away everything that is not what you seek until you find it.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Giving Up for Lent
And what did I give up for Lent this year?
Lent and practice of it has become more difficult for me as the years have passed. In one way, it's become more difficult simply because it's become more meaningful: while I don't completely grasp the entire concept of it yet, I'm certainly farther along that road than I was. The more we begin to comprehend a difficult truth, the more the truth opens up in our mind for application, like a flower continuing to bloom or the painting in which we continue to see greater details as we continue to look.
It's also become more difficult because of the concept of giving something up, rooted as an act of penitence (Yes, I understand it's not specifically in Scripture, but acting penitently and remorsefully for our sin is - and besides, it hurts nothing and self discipline is always good). Originally I viewed it purely as giving something up. I did sugar one year (do you know how many things have sugar?), soda one year, sweets another (having learned from my "no sugar" experience) - but always it was something physical and an extra, not something needful.
Then upon hearing the suggestion of a preacher, I added to my giving up adding on - that I would also do something during Lent that I would not do otherwise, make a special effort, whether it be praying regularly, reading a portion of the book of John systematically, or practicing some other action.
But, as noted above, things can become more difficult as we move through them.
I now hardly ever drink soda and sweets, though I love them, can be surrendered at will. Other things I like to do are either too easy to let go (such as watching the occasional movie) or are outlets (such as Iaido or reading). What to give up?
This year for Lent, I am giving up criticism.
I immediately put myself at risk by writing this, of course. Criticism? Criticism of whom? Of what? When?
Of whom is to remain between me and God. Suffice it to say that it will be an active effort on my part.
I shuddered a bit as I considered this. After all, this would be difficult. I almost instinctively know that I will fail, which throws me back on I should never try it and go back to something less difficult.
But the risk of failure here is no greater than the risk of failure in any other activity I have undertaken. Did I eat cookies during Lent in the past? Sure I did. Somehow I did not castigate myself for failure the way I am considering doing it now.
Why? Because criticism is a huge sacrifice for our selfish selves. It means that I suspend verbal judgement of others, that I don't engage in the secret pleasure of zinging someone (the secret pleasure of myself and others, I might add), that I simply allow others to be and go about my life.
Frankly, I'm uncomfortable enough just writing about it.
Which probably means it was the right choice.
Lent and practice of it has become more difficult for me as the years have passed. In one way, it's become more difficult simply because it's become more meaningful: while I don't completely grasp the entire concept of it yet, I'm certainly farther along that road than I was. The more we begin to comprehend a difficult truth, the more the truth opens up in our mind for application, like a flower continuing to bloom or the painting in which we continue to see greater details as we continue to look.
It's also become more difficult because of the concept of giving something up, rooted as an act of penitence (Yes, I understand it's not specifically in Scripture, but acting penitently and remorsefully for our sin is - and besides, it hurts nothing and self discipline is always good). Originally I viewed it purely as giving something up. I did sugar one year (do you know how many things have sugar?), soda one year, sweets another (having learned from my "no sugar" experience) - but always it was something physical and an extra, not something needful.
Then upon hearing the suggestion of a preacher, I added to my giving up adding on - that I would also do something during Lent that I would not do otherwise, make a special effort, whether it be praying regularly, reading a portion of the book of John systematically, or practicing some other action.
But, as noted above, things can become more difficult as we move through them.
I now hardly ever drink soda and sweets, though I love them, can be surrendered at will. Other things I like to do are either too easy to let go (such as watching the occasional movie) or are outlets (such as Iaido or reading). What to give up?
This year for Lent, I am giving up criticism.
I immediately put myself at risk by writing this, of course. Criticism? Criticism of whom? Of what? When?
Of whom is to remain between me and God. Suffice it to say that it will be an active effort on my part.
I shuddered a bit as I considered this. After all, this would be difficult. I almost instinctively know that I will fail, which throws me back on I should never try it and go back to something less difficult.
But the risk of failure here is no greater than the risk of failure in any other activity I have undertaken. Did I eat cookies during Lent in the past? Sure I did. Somehow I did not castigate myself for failure the way I am considering doing it now.
Why? Because criticism is a huge sacrifice for our selfish selves. It means that I suspend verbal judgement of others, that I don't engage in the secret pleasure of zinging someone (the secret pleasure of myself and others, I might add), that I simply allow others to be and go about my life.
Frankly, I'm uncomfortable enough just writing about it.
Which probably means it was the right choice.
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