Seeing The Beauty In Acceptance vs. Denial

This post is about being in denial about our life circumstances and some suggestions for acceptance.

Years ago, I went back to Portland, Maine, to visit my aging father, who had just moved into an assisted living center.

First, a bit about my Dad. After starting out in a privileged family, receiving a top-notch education, succeeding at some challenging executive jobs, surviving multiple marriages and raising four daughters, suffering from mental illness and diabetes, playing boogie woogie and Chopin on the piano, and finding true joy in baseball, a good scotch, and a well-played 18 holes of golf, my father had become a person whose life had narrowed to the corner of a room in an assisted living center. When I saw him sitting there, in a high-backed chair, watching one of his favorite old movies, I wondered how such a situation befalls human beings. After such a full life, how does the final act end up like this?

I had a hard time accepting his condition. Surely, he would just be in the center for a few weeks, I kept telling myself, and then things would go back to normal. He would move back to the home where he and my stepmother would return to the nice routine.

But after a few days, I began to accept that my father was never going to leave that place. The best that could happen would be for him to leave the medical portion of the facility and move into a small apartment on the assisted living side of the building. We were all hoping for this possibility, and my stepmother did an admiral job lobbying for it every chance she had.

While I fought my denial about what was happening to my father, I noticed that the one person who seemed to be the most accepting of his condition was my father himself. By being so willing to go with the flow, my father was helping all of us come to terms with his situation. When a weekend nurse came to see to his medications and, not knowing his case, asked him, “When do you go home, dear?” my father replied, “I’m never going to leave this place.” The finality of his statement made my stomach turn.

We all know the experience of denial: It’s what happens when we cannot face what is right in front of us. It’s the cloak we put over our heads when something is too difficult to face, the lie we tell when something is too painful to admit, and the overall attitude we have when we choose not to acknowledge the “elephant in the room.” It happens in our core relationships and within our extended families; we see it play out on a global scale with our politicians; and we experience it almost every day at work. Denial is so prevalent in our lives that it’s become remarkable when someone instead just accepts what is.

Next time you’re sitting in a meeting at work where everyone avoids the biggest issue, yet you can see it in their eyes—you know they know that you know that they know, but no one is talking about the truth—or you watch a parent or grandparent struggle with aging issues and you yourself refuse to accept their new circumstances, try mustering the courage to face the reality of the situation.

Take a lesson from my Dad. When you hear yourself telling stories of denial, just stop mid-sentence and decide not to continue. Ask yourself what you’re pretending not to know. See if you can live with the thing you are avoiding. Try telling yourself the truth and just accept the facts.

It also helps to look at what’s directly in front of you.  We often bundle one negative thought with another and find ourselves entrapped by imaginary fears that aren’t true.  Maybe we need to take one small step forward but we’ve bundled the thought of taking that initial step with all the things that can go wrong if we keep walking. So, we just choose to stop all together and find ourselves denying that we wanted to move forward in the first place.

Remarkably, I’ve found that when I’m able to face something, it’s often not nearly as scary as I thought it would be. There’s something in the process of denial that makes the monsters we’re avoiding seem twice as big and much more ferocious than they actually are. When we finally confront them, they’re really not so scary after all.

I learned many important lessons from my father. Seeing the futility of denial and the beauty of acceptance, is one of the best.

Kathleen

The Benefits of Persevering

 

The post is about is perseverance.

This morning, I had to sit myself down and have a short internal conversation about the necessity of persevering, even when I think I can’t, when I feel defeated, and I just don’t have one ounce of energy left to do much of anything.

The last few weeks have been challenging for me on the health front.  Frequently, my body wants to remind me that I have reached what I call ‘the fourth quarter’ of my life. It’s a strange experience to I have very little relationship at all to what it means to be over 70.  The knowledge that there are multiple generations of people younger than me is also hard to fathom. I try to do things the way I’ve always done them in the past, but they either don’t get done, or they don’t get done with the precision they used to, and I have to persevere to finish.

At the same time, I’m learning valuable lessons from aging and how to keep going when you think you can’t. First, I’ve had to delegate more and make better choices about what I take on.  For example,  a recent bout with Covid prevented me from working on a presentation I needed to work on. So, I asked a friend for help and it turned out to be great fun to work on that project with her. She added a lot of value by asking questions and giving me new ideas. Because of her help, I was also able to fulfill other responsibilities that wouldn’t have gotten my attention.

Second, I’ve had to give myself a lot more time to do things and be satisfied that they aren’t going to get done as quickly. I don’t exercise patience easily: When I know something needs doing, I just go do it and don’t like waiting for anyone or anything that slows me down. But I don’t have the energy to dive in the way I used to, and I unexpectedly have found that giving situations a little more time sometimes yields unexpected benefits.

Third, when I think I’m out of options, I’m learning to just sit and accept what is. In the sitting and accepting, I’m finding a hidden source that often gives me that one last boost to persevere and open up more possibilities. Someone once told me that just when you think you’ve reached your limits, you find you can go just a little bit farther, and then your old limitations are no longer true and you have new limitations. I’m not sure how this works, but it seems right.

It’s always beneficial to explore ways you can persevere through tough situations. Maybe you’ve been trying to get something done at work and, no matter how you try, you keep hitting a brick wall. Try pausing for a bit and then moving forward again. Perhaps you ask a co-worker for some assistance – how would they approach this project?  Just hearing some new thoughts about how to get something done helps us bridge the interval.  If you’ve been experiencing health issues and don’t have the vitality you once did, look at ways you can delegate a task or redesign your process. Maybe it’s just a matter of leaving a project until the next day, when your energy is renewed and you have a better attitude about completing it. Whatever it takes, try being more accepting. If you know you can’t get something done, try accepting that fact and then asking yourself, “OK, now what? Is there another way to make this happen?”

In her old age, my grandmother shared a lot of wisdom with me. She suffered most of her life from acute arthritis, and there were many times I saw her have to persevere just to make it through the day. She used to say, “Seems like old age fires up my spirit as much as it stiffens my bones.”  Amen, Nana.

 

Kathleen

 

The Value of Authenticity

 

This post is is about authenticity.

I recall a video I watched years ago of Susan Boyle, the middle-aged, single, unemployed Scottish woman who sang on the program “Britain’s Got Talent,” the English equivalent of our “American Idol.” Out she came onto the stage, looking as dowdy as you can imagine but with a good sense of herself and a twinkle in her eye.

The judges sounded incredibly cynical and judgmental when they asked her their basic questions, members of the audience rolled their eyes, and there was definitely a sense that this woman fit into the category of some old frump who was going to make a fool of herself. Until she sang the first note.

Susan Boyle sang “I Dreamed a Dream” from “Les Miserables,” and I found myself crying, clapping and cheering along with all the other audience members on the show. She was amazing, and the judges were blown away by her performance. Everyone was humbled by their misjudgment and negative attitudes about her when she first appeared on the stage. We all know you can’t judge a book by its cover, and never had this truism been more apparent.

I thought about why this performance had touched me so deeply, and why it is having the same effect on so many others.  At last count, more over 30 million people had viewed Susan’s performance on YouTube, and many of us have had the same response.

So what’s going on here? Perhaps we are so starved for something truly authentic that its rare experience touches us deeply in our hearts and souls. Some part of us knows when we are acting falsely, and we suffer terribly as we watch ourselves being someone we’re not or doing something we don’t truly believe in.

It’s not only painful to watch ourselves being inauthentic, it’s also painful to watch others do so. Last week a client mentioned to me how hard it is to watch some of her co-workers trying to be someone they’re not. A sensitive, beautifully feminine woman puts on a “I’m really a tough guy” act. A senior manager covers up his fear of appearing less intelligent than he hopes he is. A financial executive assumes an attitude of power because she controls the numbers, meanwhile having hidden crucial financial information to make herself look good.

We have all created these false personalities to survive whatever environment we found ourselves in. But our external situations change, and when they do, we need to ask ourselves whether that particular personality continues to serve us, or just alienates others and make us look foolish.

In a culture that for decades has thrived on looking young, acting cool, wearing the newest styles, and glorifying being thin and hip, Susan Boyle was a breath of fresh air for being exactly the opposite of all those traits. She allowed all of us to feel good about exactly who we are, regardless of what anyone else thinks.

It’s always worth it to observe how we “act” with others and see if one of our assumed personalities no longer serves us. Ask yourself what’s preventing you from just being who you are. Try not to impress others so much with what you think they will like or approve of, but rather, allow your own essence to emerge and see if you don’t get a better response.

One of my favorite quotes, enscribed by an unknown author on a grave marker at Boothill Cemetery in Tombstone, Arizona, reads

“Be who you is,

‘cuz if you ain’t

who you is,

Then you is

who you ain’t.”

 

Kathleen

 

Ways To Deal With Monkey Mind

 

Here’s a post about what to do about having ‘monkey mind’.

My definition of monkey mind is when my thoughts run all over the place and I don’t seem to have any control over them. It’s like watching a monkey dart up and down the branches of a tree chasing another monkey or in search of a nut to eat.

It often happens that I can be sitting peacefully, enjoying the moment, but at any time, some pesky thoughts will arise that want my attention. If I’m not careful and follow those thoughts, the next thing I know, I’m not in that moment anymore: I’ve followed those monkey-like thoughts right down into some nasty little hole that might be hard to get out of once I’m there.

I often tell my clients, “The part of you that is observing your thoughts is not of them.”  So if I’m sitting there peacefully, and I see a thought pop up that wants to distract me, I have about a nanosecond to decide not to follow it. I can say instead, “Nope, you nasty little thought, I’m not going to give you any attention, I’m not going to follow you. I’m going to sit right here and be in this moment, and you can just keep going without me.”  Believe it or not, if I catch it before it catches me, the thought usually just disappears into thin air. And that’s the funny part: It came out of thin air to begin with.

Not giving your thoughts so much power is a liberating experience. After attending many silent retreats, I’ve learned this truth over and over again. When you go on a silent retreat, you make an agreement with yourself. No matter what comes up, you just stay seated and you watch. And you watch and you watch, and you breathe, and you itch sometimes, and you weep sometimes, and you just stay in silence. Pretty soon, the thoughts that come up and try to lure you away just disappear, and the the itches go away, and the tears go away, and the anxiety, and the anger, and the sadness and the joy: It all just rises up and passes away.

See if you can observe the tricks your mind likes to play on you and to stay silent and not let the thoughts take you away from where you are.  If your monkey mind wakes you at 3 a.m. and you lie there not being able to go back to sleep due to it’s activity, try taking deep breaths to calm your body and still your mind.  Sometimes I move my feet back and forth and just that little bit of activity, brings me into the moment and out of the trap of my mind activity.  Try staying silent for a few moments each day and watch – it’s worth it not to react to everything that wants your attention. Stay calm and centered in yourself.

Remarkably, life will continue on just fine without your having to comment on every part of it. In your silence, you’ll discover a well of love and safety within yourself that cannot be disturbed by anyone or anything unless you let it.

Let the monkeys try to create havoc! I’ll not have it, at least not in this moment.

Kathleen

Finding Optimism In The Midst of Bad Economic Conditions

This post has some good suggestions for how to find optimism in the midst of bad economic conditions.

Lately, I’ve been trying to figure out whether all the bad news we’re hearing about the economy is educating us or making things worse. We have more access to information than any other generation before, and so are more informed, but this plethora of information also colors how we think about events.

I remember reading about Powell’s Books in Portland and their decision not to expand their famous book store, even though they had the financing to do so. I thought, what bad news. Think of all the people who would have benefited from the jobs created: the architect, the builder, the banker, etc. But then I realized it’s not such a bad idea for Powell’s to think about better ways to use the space it has and support sustainable growth. Maybe it means more job security for the people already employed there if they have to do more with less. And taking a conservative approach sets a good example for future generations of the Powell family members who hope to continue running a successful business.

If I had taken the news on face value, I would have run the risk of believing a partial truth, that is, just one view of the situation. But if I consider the same situation from different viewpoints, I can often find underlying benefits.

It also helps to seek out good news in the midst of all the dire reports about the economy. One such example is excerpts from an article I’m including here, “Four Reasons Why Ford May Be the Company of the Future,” by Tony Schwartz, president of the Energy Project. Although written years ago, it illustrates how finding some optimism in difficult times is so beneficial.

“If you could look inside the inner sanctum at Ford, what would you expect to see? Anxiety? Panic? Despair?

“The economy, after all, is getting worse not better. Monthly car sales in the U.S. have continued to drop precipitously. Ford has lost market share during the past year and reported huge losses.

“But if you spend a day with CEO Alan Mulally and his top executives, as I did recently, what you discover is a group of people who are laser-focused, hopeful, proud and incredibly passionate about the mission they’re on—even without retention bonuses or long-term incentive plans.

“Here are the four reasons I believe Ford is modeling how companies of the future ought to operate:

“1. Creating value by valuing people. Alan Mulally is fiercely realistic about the steep challenge Ford faces, but he’s infectiously upbeat about their ability to meet it, and he makes the people around him feel good, including about themselves. He truly understands that only positive emotions fuel sustainable high performance and that the more valued people feel, the more they’re freed and inspired to create more value.

“2. Transparency rules. My colleague Annie Perrin and I began our day at Ford at 8 a.m. by attending Ford’s weekly Business Plan Review, which includes all of its senior executives around the world. Outsiders are regularly invited to observe the meeting. Every executive reports any new information that might influence Ford’s overall revenue projections, or any other part of its plan. Mulally operates on the assumption that the truth will set you free, even when it hurts.

“3. Personal responsibility. The day we were there, one Ford executive described a significant shortfall on a particular projection. It was the sort of acknowledgment that might have prompted high drama in many boardrooms. In this case, the executive simply went on to list the ways he intended to address the shortfall over the coming days and invited other suggestions. No energy was wasted in wringing hands or avoiding responsibility or assigning blame. The focus was entirely on solutions.

“4. A mission worth believing in. Mulally believes that ‘to serve is to live,’ and he has rallied the notoriously factionalized and siloed Ford around a shared mission that is simple and compelling: make Ford the leader in quality, safety and fuel efficiency.

“In the midst of a perfect storm, Mulally has created a culture in which his team is working together closely to create a new kind of company. When the economic clouds finally do part, these executives have a shared conviction that they’ll emerge, along with Toyota and Volkswagen, as one of the three truly global automobile companies.

“I’m not about to bet against them. I haven’t owned an American car in 20 years, but after a day hanging around Mulally and his team, I intend to buy a high-mileage electric Ford as my next one.”

This article encouraged me because, in the midst of great challenge and adversity, a car company executive is rallying his troops and making smart business decisions to accomplish a mission that will benefit many people. He’s using his motto “to serve is to live” as a way to conduct his life with integrity and meaning.

Take not of some of these suggestions and find ways to think positively about what’s happening economically by seeking out optimistic ways to interpret difficult situations. Perhaps you can’t hire someone for a new position but have to think of new ways to train your existing workforce so they work more efficiently.  Maybe you plan a celebration at work or at home and think of more creative ways to make it happen, like having a potluck. I have been creating new payment arrangements with some of my clients to make it easier and more equitable for both of us during lean times. Think of giving your people a mission that’s simple and easy to believe in, something that will allow their passion and commitment to transform much of what is negative into a positive.

As my grandmother used to say, “Try turning lemons into lemonade.”

 

Kathleen

 

How Music and Art Inspire Us and Their Importance In Our Lives

 

This morning when I awoke, I found that the music I had listened to yesterday was still in my head and my heart. My husband and I had attended a concert the night before where we heard a tabla drumming master perform.

I often think about what in my life leaves the most memorable impressions. If I sit in a meeting for an hour, what am I left with? Often, it’s the expression on someone’s face, or something they said that resonates with me, or the way the light filters into the room.

I also wonder about what goes unnoticed, slipping away as the seconds click by on the clock. Unfortunately, many moments pass when I’m drifting in my own imagination, distracted, or just in a state of dullness I refer to as “a low hum.”

But music wakes me up, even when I don’t like it. It soothes me when I do love the sound and transforms my state in ways that are a mystery to me.

What transforms you, gives you that feeling of being uplifted and inspired and changes you in the moment?

My associate Kate Dwyer sent me the following article about music. It’s an excerpt from a speech by Karl Paulnack, pianist and director of the music division at Boston Conservatory, welcoming the freshman class.

“The first people to understand how music really works were the ancient Greeks. And this is going to fascinate you: The Greeks said that music and astronomy were two sides of the same coin. Astronomy was seen as the study of relationships between observable, permanent, external objects, and music was seen as the study of relationships between invisible, internal, hidden objects. Music has a way of finding the big, invisible, moving pieces inside our hearts and souls and helping us figure out the position of things inside us. Let me give you some examples of how this works.

“One of the most profound musical compositions of all time is the ‘Quartet for the End of Time’ written by French composer Olivier Messiaen in 1940. Messiaen was 31 years old when France entered the war against Nazi Germany. He was captured by the Germans in June 1940, sent across Germany in a cattle car and imprisoned in a concentration camp.

“He was fortunate to find a sympathetic prison guard who gave him paper and a place to compose. There were three other musicians in the camp, a cellist, a violinist, and a clarinetist, and Messiaen wrote his quartet with these specific players in mind. It was performed in January 1941 for four thousand prisoners and guards in the prison camp. Today it is one of the most famous masterworks in the repertoire.

“Given what we have since learned about life in the concentration camps, why would anyone in his right mind waste time and energy writing or playing music? There was barely enough energy on a good day to find food and water, to avoid a beating, to stay warm, to escape torture—why would anyone bother with music?

“And yet from the camps we have poetry, we have music, we have visual art; it wasn’t just this one fanatic Messiaen: Many, many people created art. Why? Well, in a place where people are only focused on survival, on the bare necessities, the obvious conclusion is that art must be, somehow, essential for life. The camps were without money, without hope, without commerce, without recreation, without basic respect, but they were not without art. Art is part of survival; art is part of the human spirit, an unquenchable expression of who we are. Art is one of the ways in which we say, ‘I am alive, and my life has meaning.’”

Whatever it is that gives you that spark of life, realize that it’s not just worth doing, it is essential to your physical well-being and emotional survival. Find time to build it into your day. It will change you, I promise!

 

Kathleen

 

The Importance of Rigor and Relationship In Management

This post is about the importance of rigor and relationship in management.

I recall reading about a phrase that is attributed to Barack Obama’s mother. Evidently, the young Obama was struggling in school, and his mother decided to wake him up at 4:30 a.m. to tutor him. When he complained about getting up so early in the morning, her comment was “This is no picnic for me either, buster.” As David Brooks wrote about this in an editorial, he pointed out the two traits in this scenario that are necessary for academic success: relationship and rigor.

This anecdote reminded me of my father and the kinds of sacrifices he and my mother made in raising my sister and me.  I look back now and see that the quality of the relationship they had with us and the rigor they put us through helped us to value the results that come from working hard and challenging ourselves. We were encouraged to make a contribution to the greater good, and my parents tried to set an example by doing the same in their own lives.

I recall my father driving many hours to some historical spot in New England, while my sister and I complained bitterly in the back seat, wanting to be anywhere but in a hot, muggy Plymouth station wagon, searching for the exact spot where some historical battle had taken place that was key to this country’s success in winning the Revolutionary War.

Once Dad found the spot, he stood on the grassy knoll in his Bermuda shorts, black socks and wingtip shoes and narrated the story of what had happened there and why it was so important in winning our freedom from the British.

I can still hear him say, with great passion, “Just think about it: Right here, our soldiers pushed the British back and held their position. If it hadn’t been for that resistance, we might not have the right to vote!”

We thought he was weird back then. We rolled our eyes as he spoke and hoped we could soon drive to the nearest ice cream parlor for some relief. But years later, when I was sitting in a history exam, it was that particular battle that I wrote about, with so much eloquence I got an A for my final grade. At that moment, I greatly appreciated my father’s rigorous efforts to try to teach my sister and me experientially, rather than just telling us to read the next chapter in a history book.

My experience in coaching and training has taught me that relationship and rigor are fundamental to the success of anyone’s personal and professional development. Many managers insist that their team members attend training, but if the managers don’t create a strong relationship with them and have a rigorous way of helping them apply that training in their day-to-day jobs, the training is lost and the dollars misspent.

It’s important aspect of management and leadership to focus on creating better relationships with your people and finding rigorous ways to help them engage more fully in their jobs. Part of this effort is letting people know that there are consequences to their actions. In my father’s case, he would often quiz us after one of our outings about what we remembered. The positive reinforcement we received from both of our parents when we came up with the right answer was reward enough. And, conversely, if we spaced out and allowed our bad attitudes to prevent us from paying attention, the follow-up conversation was not a fun experience, and we inevitably felt stupid and left out.

In working with team members, many rewards come from adding extra rigor to the way things get done. How about setting stretch goals for your team members and checking in with them each day to see whether they’re going above and beyond what’s normally expected? Maybe you create a competition so that people are rewarded for thinking of new ways to use a product or service. Perhaps it’s time to take them out of the office and engage them in a team activity so they come back the next day refreshed and willing to re-engage after having had a different way of connecting with each other.

In the end, working hard, being held accountable, and getting recognition for the results of that hard work make everyone on the team happy.  But it’s an even more enriching experience if the people you work for take a passionate interest in you, and invest in your success by showing you how deeply they care about your continuous improvement. Statistics show that when times get tough, people naturally come together to help and support each other. The smart companies I work with are using our current economic hard times to strengthen their one-on-one relationships with their team members and putting more energy into challenging them to do a better job.

Kathleen

The Value of Not Over-Analyzing Yourself

I have always appreciated the writings of Dr. Albert Ellis, a noted psychotherapist who died when he was 93. Dr. Ellis focused much of his psychotherapeutic treatments on action; that is, rather than overanalyzing everything, he encouraged his patients to take action regarding their emotional and psychological states by accepting who they were and not delving too deeply into the reasons why they were that way. He wrote more than 75 books with titles like “How to Stubbornly Refuse to Make Yourself Miserable About Anything,” “How to Keep People from Pushing Your Buttons” and “How to Make Yourself Happy and Remarkably Less Disturbable.”

Dr. Ellis’s advice reminds me of the importance of staying sane in our daily lives by dealing with the internal dictator that tries to tell us all sorts of ridiculous things. For example, some of us walk around all day with internal thoughts such as “I’ve got to do this. I’ve got to do that. I should have said this to that person. I need to be more like that. I ought to be more organized. I should be more attractive, intelligent, witty, popular and personable. I ought to be more assertive. I need to be less aggressive. I’ve got to speak up more. I really need to keep my mouth shut.” Some of us “should” on ourselves all day long!

This mind chatter makes us crazy. And if that’s the state of mind we harbor most of the day, we tend to project that same state onto others. It often takes the form of judgment and blame: “He should do this. He should do that. They ought to know better. They should treat us more fairly. She should be more sensitive. She ought to be more personable,” etc., etc.

I think it’s a useful exercise to give yourself a break from thoughts and attitudes that lead you to continually judge and blame yourself and others. Ellis wrote, “Not all emotional disturbance stems from arrogant thinking, but most of it does. And when you demand that you must not have failings, you can also demand that you must not be neurotic…and this only makes you nuttier! Neurosis still comes mainly from you… . And you can choose to stop your nonsense and to stubbornly refuse to make yourself crazy about anything.”

Often the simple practice of trying to think of how we can serve others, either at home or at work, will take us out of the subject of “I am the center of the universe” and expand our thinking.

When I spend more time thinking about the well-being of others rather than entertaining thoughts about myself, I am a lot happier, and life is much more rewarding and interesting.

 

Kathleen

 

Follow Your Bliss

 

I’m reading a wonderful book, “The Three Marriages: Reimagining Work, Self and Relationship,” by David Whyte. Here’s a quote that best describes what the book is about.

“We have the remarkable ability as human beings to fall in love with a person, a work, or even, at times, an idea of ourselves.” He asserts that our current understanding of work-life balance is too simplistic. The ways in which we think about our work, relationships and inner selves seem to frustrate and exhaust us. Whyte argues that it’s impossible to sacrifice any one of these aspects of our lives without causing deep psychological damage and invites us to examine each marriage with a fierce but affectionate eye. He explores these three parts of our lives with profound observations and conclusions that I’m finding eye-opening and provocative.

The conclusion Whyte comes to in Chapter 6, “Opening a Tidal Gate: The Pursuit of Work Through Difficulty, Doubt and Distraction,” is at the heart of this post. He writes, “In building a work life, people who follow rules, written or unwritten, too closely and in an unimaginative way are often suffocated by those same rules and die by them, quite often unnoticed and very often unmourned.”

This conclusion spoke loudly to me as a coach. Many clients have come to me for guidance in finding a life, as though they’ve lost the life they had; they tell me they can’t remember the last time they felt any joy in their lives or that they’re feeling a depression so deep they seem to be completely lifeless.

One man has asked me to share his story in hopes of helping others. When I began working with him, he was no longer able to get out of his recliner. That is, he had reached a point in his life where all he did was go to work and then come home and return to his recliner in front of the television. His wife served him his dinner there, and he slept in it all night. He was beginning to worry that he might wake up one morning and not be able to convince himself to go to work, that he might stay in his recliner 24 hours a day and one day not be able to get out of it at all.

When I asked him questions about his work, he would often say, “Well, I just fly under the radar. No one really notices me, and I just go about my business and always follow the rules. I don’t make waves, and people just leave me alone.” And when I asked him what made him happy, he couldn’t remember.

This experience is not as unusual as you might think. By living our lives without any real desire, the fire within us dims and, eventually, can go out. If we’re always following the rules and not allowing our imagination to challenge the status quo, we disengage and our lives become stale.

It took my client awhile to remember when he had last felt genuine joy and happiness. These memories had become locked up and hidden under layers of always being responsible and reliable, always doing the right thing. As we worked together, he began to remember the joy he experienced when he went fishing as a young boy. When he spoke about those days, tears formed in his eyes and a smile spread across his face. I could see his desire begin to reawaken his heart.

My client began to use his vacation days to go fishing. At first, he went by himself, but after awhile he began to invite friends and colleagues. After awhile, he brought pictures of the fish he caught to put in his cubicle at work. His wife started learning about fish preparation and wines that go best with certain fish dishes. He even made up a sign at work that read “Gone fishing” when he needed quiet, concentrated time in his cubicle and didn’t want to be disturbed. His colleagues laughed at his quirkiness, but they were happy to see him re-engaged and no longer depressed. My client began to connect his work, his relationship and his inner self around his love of fishing, and it reignited his joy in life.

Today, he is semi-retired. In the summer, he works at a children’s camp where he teaches the kids to fish. During the rest of the year, he writes articles for fishing magazines when he’s not out fishing himself.

Don’t be afraid to build a work life that includes those things that keep your inner fire alive. Maybe you haven’t spoken your mind lately and feel the need to disagree and have your views heard. Experiencing a moment of your own courage can light your fire in an instant. Perhaps you love flowers: Make sure you have them on your desk where you can see them each day. How about challenging yourself to use your creative imagination to improve a project you’re working on, or suggesting to your team members that you all try taking a different approach to solving a problem? How about allowing yourself to fail or to be wrong just for the sake of experimentation?  If necessary, spend some contemplative time figuring out what used to make you really happy and try incorporating that into your daily schedule.

“Follow your bliss,” counseled Joseph Campbell. And I say, once you know what it is, find a way to live it.

 

Kathleen

 

Living With Less and Being Grateful For It

 

The title of this post could be “Grateful for Less.” I’ll tell my story, and then you can decide.

Years ago I lived in Venice, Italy, for a year. I wanted to live in Europe for an extended period of time, in a place where the locals demanded that I speak their language, that had fine wine and excellent cuisine, great art, easy access to water, a place that would require me to live my day-to-day life differently. Venice was perfect.

Soon after I moved there, it became obvious to me that living in a place without automobiles was very different. You have to walk everywhere. Aside from the occasional water taxi, you are completely dependent on your body to get you from place to place. You also have to carry everything on your person. This not only keeps you in great shape, but it slows you down, limits the number of places you can get to within any given day and means that you try to purchase everything in small amounts. None of this going to the store and buying a jumbo box of anything. Because you have to carry it home, small is the perfect size.

I was also living without a washing machine or dryer (the Italians think that clothes dryers are unsanitary), so once a week I had to hand-wash all my clothes and hang them out the bathroom window where my clothesline hung. There is an art to hanging laundry in Venice, and if you live on the third floor of a 14th  century building and you don’t get it right, your unmentionables end up in La Signora’s garden on the first floor. It’s a terrible way to get to know your neighbors, believe me.

Since there were no big supermarkets around and each store had its own specialty—the bread shop, the meat shop, the pasta shop, etc.—it took me awhile to figure out where I was going to get laundry detergent. After I had made many inquiries in broken Italian, my neighbor finally took pity on me and escorted me to the one store in my neighborhood that sold detergent. She warned me, “The detergent boat arrives on Wednesday late afternoon. First thing Thursday morning, you have to be here bright and early to get your box of detergent; otherwise, they’re sold out by noon and you have to wait another week.” Imagine how strange this was for me as an American. We can buy detergent 24 hours a day in any size box with a long list of choices—bleach, no bleach, liquid, powder—at the price point we want.

So early the next Thursday morning, I went down to the detergent shop. A line had already formed. I waited there thinking, “I can’t believe I’m doing this to buy soap,” and trying not to look impatient (most Italians think that all Americans are impatient). When I finally got into the shop, I saw the wall of detergent boxes. There was only one kind in one size, small by American standards, but good if you have to carry it home. I purchased my box of detergent and triumphantly headed for home. Accomplishing the simplest of things when you live in a foreign country is always a victory.

All year I repeated this ritual and actually began to appreciate the rhythm of the experience. It was like hearing a familiar piece of music, and each Thursday morning when I stood in that line, I felt like I belonged there.

One year later, I was back in Northern California after my year abroad. On my second day home, I was jet-lagged and shocked by how fast everything and everyone moved (especially the automobiles). I had no food and a suitcase full of dirty clothes, so I headed off to the grocery store.

I wandered into the nearest Safeway to make my purchases. Imagine how strange this was: The aisles in the store were wider than the streets I had walked in Venice. The store was the size of an entire Venetian neighborhood square, and the shelves were filled with huge amounts of everything. As I made it to the detergent section in a daze, I began to peruse the soap offerings on the shelves. There were so many kinds of detergent I could not possibly read all the specifics on each box, let alone make a choice. The entire experience began to make me anxious, and I started to cry. Finally, in the midst of all the boxes, I realized what a waste of time it was for me to read detergent boxes to compare ingredients and prices. How depressing and confusing! I quickly grabbed the box closest to me and made my way to the check-out.

As I fumbled in my pocket for a few dollars, the clerk asked me, “Did you find everything you needed?” I mumbled something obscene in Italian and quickly left the store.

What did I learn? That the experience of access does strange things to our psychology. We always tend to want more, but when we’re given too many choices, we get more and more confused and less satisfied with the results. There’s never enough, even when there’s so much that we can’t possibly use it all. The list of things we want to buy, improve, get a good deal on, etc., is never-ending, and so, as we acquire more and more, we become less and less satisfied.

I have often tried to live with less. It’s not easy but when I often look at all the stuff that surrounds me, living with less of it always makes me feel better.

Look at your stuff—in your garage, in your closet, in your office, in your refrigerator or kitchen cupboard. How much is there that you never use? And when you go to choose something, is it difficult to do because you have too many choices? Try limiting the amount of stuff you use this week and see what happens. Experiment by going to the store and buying the smallest amount of something and see how long it lasts.

The architect Mies van der Rohe pronounced that in buildings “Less is more.” I found out that maxim is also true for life in general. See what you think.

 

Kathleen