The Sweetness of Life

In the 2003 film Elf, Will Ferrel exclaims that for elves there are four main food groups: Candy, Candy Canes, Candy Corn, and Syrup.  The saying is a comical reference to the USDA's recommended "Basic Four": 1) Vegetables/Fruits, 2) Milk, 3) Meat, 4) Cereals/Breads.  As the holidays approach, my children are fond of quoting this expression, since they would prefer to avoid the USDA's Four in favor of Elf's Four.  Who wouldn't?

In the professional realm, it's often easy to loose sight of the sweetness of those with whom we interact.  We are tempted to regularly serve up large portions of spinach so that our teams and organizations can stay strong.  Now, a side of spinach from time-to-time with the meal is fine thing (preferably sauteed in extra virgin olive oil and fresh garlic, of course).  Man does not live by spinach alone!  Except maybe in the comic strips.

Savoring sweets over the holidays, whether they be fine Belgian chocolates, the company of loved ones, or your colleagues at work is a fine way of reflecting on the gifts we've received over the course of the past year.  

So, go ahead and pour some syrup on that spaghetti.

Uncage Your Heart

In the 1975 horror/suspense film Jaws, an unlikely trio of men which include a drunk ship captain (Quint-played by Robert Shaw), an elected local police chief who cannot swim ((Brody-played by Roy Scheider) , and a smart-aleky young oceanographer (Hooper-played by Richard Dreyfus) prepare to go to sea in search of a great white shark that has been terrorizing a seaside community.  As Hooper loads his gear onboard, Quint queries:
Quint: What d'ya have there - a portable shower or a monkey cage?
Hooper: Anti-Shark cage.
Quint: Anti-shark cage. You go inside the cage?
[Hooper nods]
Quint: Cage goes in the water, you go in the water. Shark's in the water. Our shark.

Quint [singing]: Farewell and adieu toyou, fair Spanish ladies. Farewell and adieu, you ladies of Spain. For we'vereceived orders for to sail back to Boston. And so nevermore shall we see youagain. 
I relay this scene in Jaws as metaphor to illustrate how we tend cage our own hearts in order to protect ourselves from the sharks of day-to-day life.  Leaders can be (and often are) especially tempted to close off their compassion out of fear of being devoured in the sea of life.
As a leader, how are you caging your heart?

The Wonderful Wizard of Leadership

Lions, and tigers, and bears.  Oh, my!

In Frank Baum's 1900 Wonderful Wizard of Oz, our heroine, Dorothy, is swept up by a fierce tornado and later finds herself deposited in the land of Oz, far from her family and home in Kansas.  In order to find her way home, Dorothy is advised to seek counsel from the great Wizard of Oz, who is located in the Emerald City which a long journey down the yellow brick road.  Along the way, Dorothy meets three traveling companions who agree to accompany her: a Scare Crow, a Tin Man, and a Lion.  Each hopes that the Wizard will be able to grant them something they seem to lack: Dorothy-her home, the Scare Crow-a brain, the Tin Man-a heart, and the Lion-courage.  Together, they encounter many trials along their journey, including a challenge by the Wizard to return to him with the broom stick of the evil and Wicked Witch of the West.
This fantastic children's novel may serve as an allegory for leadership.  Like Dorothy, many of us often find ourselves caught up in the storm of our circumstances, and deposited in uncertain territory, seeking the proverbial "way home".  Along the way, we need to access the wisdom (brains), compassion (heart), and courage to resist evil, do the right thing(s), and stay on the path, or "yellow brick road".  And, as with Dorothy, it can be a great adventure filled with trial and tribulation.

At the end of "Oz", the Scarecrow gets his brain, the Tin Man his heart, the Lion his courage, and Dorothy her home.  Upon closer examination, perhaps we notice that each character had these all along.  Or, better still, shall we say that we notice that Dorothy possessed these virtues, and the journey served to strengthened them.

As a leader, what do you notice about your own wisdom, heart, and courage?




 

Being versus Doing

This week, I was discussing the topic of deepening learning (a “being” coaching skill) and forwarding action (a “doing” coaching skill) with my eight other pod-mates in the Coaches Training Institute certification program led by Melanie Keveles.  When coaches work with clients on deepening learning, they will often employ skills like using powerful questions, including asking them to spend some time in an inquiry around a particular topic.  On the other hand, when coaches work with clients on forwarding action, they may employ techniques such as requesting or challenging clients to do certain things to help them evoke transformation.  It was an interesting exploration because while there are no absolutes here, eight of my pod-mates tend to favor deepening learning with their clients, while I tend to favor forwarding the action.  Which leads me to Albert Einstein and physics.

Albert Einstein is reported to have said that in physics, “nothing happens until something moves”.  As an experimentalist (in science, as well as in life) I will admit that I am quite fond of this expression.  My own life application of this idiom is: “when in doubt, do something”.  Note carefully: when in doubt [pause]….do something. 

 

First, let me say that when there is doubt (or confusion) a perfectly fine choice is to wait to see what happens, and then take (or do not take) appropriate action.  Another choice is to analyze what might happen, and then take (or do not take) appropriate action.  While analysis can be helpful, it is a form of doing, and it can lead to what is often referred to as “the paralysis of analysis”, which is an infinite “do-loop”.  Let me also acknowledge here that I recognize that we are human beings (and not human doings).

So, why do I tend to favor forwarding action over deepen learning?  First, I have found that I learn more when I take action and see what happens.  In physics, we refer to this as “action and reaction”.  In Buddhism, it is called “Karma”.    Also, I recognize that as human beings we come to “exist”, or stand out, by an act of creation. 

In the end, I believe that we can achieve balance between the seeming paradox of being and doing.  It’s kind of like riding a see-saw, which rotates hither and tither on its fulcrum.  Perhaps, our role as coaches is to be on the other end of the board with the client, and help them experience the joy of swinging between the two extremes.

I extend my gratitude to SJ Evans who inspired this post with a powerful inquiry. 

What is your inclination?

Appreciation

"What you appreciate, appreciates"--Lynne Twist, The Soul of Money.

This week, I was working with Graham Coppin and Heather Berry on appreciation.  I am grateful to both of them for the coaching. Heather provided the motivation for this blogpost, and Graham has me working in the "appreciation gym" so that I can strengthen those muscules.

Appreciation.  What is it?  The definition of which I am most fond is: "the recognition and enjoyment of the good qualities of someone or something".

While I appreciate many people, places, and things in my life, I had lost sight of my own divinity a long time ago.  It's as if the veil of illusion (or Maya) was blocking my clear seeing of the truth.  As a consequence, I was not appreciating the good I bring into this world.  I'm in the process of reversing that error (or sin), and if Lynne Twist's assertion is true, then more good will be forthcoming.  Watch out world!

I want to be careful here.  I am not suggessting that I (or we) follow the lead of Narcissus, who was so enamored by the reflection of his own visage that he became paralzed by the reflecting pool, withered away, and died.  No.  I am suggesting somehting much more nuanced and balanced.

Here again, I'd like to return to Lynne Twist.  She suggests that we can use appreciation as a powerful, intentional practice by paying deliberate attention to not only to what we do and have, but also to the good that we are. In this way, I intend to bring my own attention to, and reflection on, the good that I am (and that I do), so that I may enlarge and enrich my own experience, and that of those with whom I interact.

Who and what are you appreciating these days?

Errors, flubs, and gaffes

In the course of human events, individuals sometimes make mistakes, even professionals who are at the apex of their careers.  More often than not, these errors are are a consequence of acts of commission derived from good intentions.  As leaders, how are we to react or respond when a team member or subordinate fumbles the ball, drops a pass, or misses a block or tackle?

Before answering that question, I believe it is important to make a distinction between excellence and perfection.  Excellence is that quality of being outstanding or extremely good, whereas perfection is that quality of being free from all flaws or defects.  Certainly, striving to be flawless is one sign of excellence.  However, being flawless is rarely, if ever possible.  For the sports enthusiasts among you, consider Derek Jeter, the NY Yankees short stop for past nineteen seasons.  He is a five time world series champion and five time golden glove award recipient, as well as a all-star selection in thirteen of his nineteen professional seasons.  Derek Jeter is regarded as one of the best short stops in the history of baseball.  And yet, he is not perfect.  Over the course of his nineteen year professional career, Jeter committed, on average, 13 errors each season.

Turning to a scientific, rather than athletic view on the subject, there are many who would argue that being flawed is the essence of being human.  Modern genetics tells us that infinitesimally small variations (or coding errors) in DNA are at the heart of evolution, and these "mistakes" are responsible for the variety, complexity, and beauty of all living organisms. Most (if not all) contemporary evolutionary biologists tell us that without random error in the genetic code we would not exist.

So, back to leadership, and the question as to how we should deal with mistakes made by those under our care and supervision.  Certainly, it is helpful to point out errors, explain the impact, and ask that the same error be avoided in the future.  In addition, it may be helpful to recall what Alexander Pope, the eighteenth century English poet, wrote on this subject in his Essay on Criticism: "To err is human; to forgive divine."

The Blue Bird in the Barnyard

Dan Millman is his book No Ordinary Moments relates the story of the Bluebird in the barnyard.  
In this tale, a bluebird stays behind as his family and friends fly south for the winter believing the journey unnecessary.  As the cold encroaches, the fragile bluebird realizes that he's made a terrible error.  In an attempt to head south, the bluebird takes to the air, only to have his wings freeze in flight causing a perilous fall back to earth.  

As fortune would have it, the frozen bluebird lands on a haystack in a barnyard.  He rolls to the barnyard floor near a group of cows. Just as the heart in the lifeless body of the bird was about to beat its last beat; one of the cows relieved herself on him.  The warm manure covers and warms the bird, saving his life.

The bluebird thaws out, and happy to be alive starts to sing a beautiful song, which attracts the attention of the barnyard cat.  The cat saunters over, sorts through the manure, finds the little bird, and promptly eats it.

The fable offers at least three morals:

1) Not everyone who dumps on you is your enemy.
2) Not everyone who gets you out of a mess is your friend.
3) If you are warm and happy in a pile of manure, keep your mouth shut.

Double, Bubble, Toil, and Struggle

"Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these."-- Matthew 6:28-29

I've been absent for a while.  In the inimitable words of Russell Casse in the film Independence Day, "Hello Boys, IIII'mmm baaaaccckkkk!"

Recently, one of my saboteurs has been showing up telling me there's not enough time for everything in life (including these blogposts).  That's why you've not heard from me in a while.  The truth is--time is an illusion.  Certainly, as Eckhart Tolle puts it (paraphrase): We may use clock-time for practical purposes, but there is no future and no past.  There is only the now.

I'd lost sight of this fundamental truth.  Life evolves moment to moment, and as much as we attempt to schedule every moment using clock time, that technique inevitably leads to frustration, anxiety, and disappointment.  It's better to enter the river of life and go with its flow.

Through some excellent coaching from Graham Coppin,  a better perspective for me is emerging from within.  That is, be like the lilies of the field, and toil not.    

Which perspective on life do you prefer: toiling and spinning, or flowing and swimming?

Venturing Forth

In Homer’s Odyssey our hero, Odysseus, struggles on a long journey home to his family in Ithaca after having spent ten years in a foreign land fighting the Trojan War.  The ten year journey home is replete with trial and tribulation.  Odysseus did reunite with his family, and most modern storytellers would have left it there and sold the movie rights.  Yet, Homer does not.  Odysseus is called forth again to fulfill the prophecy uttered by the ghost of the blind seer Tiresias.  

Odysseus must take a well made oar and carry it inland to a country where the people have never heard of the sea.  Upon arrival in this new country, a wayfarer will greet Odysseus and comment on Odysseus’ “winnowing shovel”, since boats and oars would not be familiar to people in this foreign land.  Upon hearing this, Odysseus will plant his oar in the ground and make appropriate sacrifices to the gods.

Odysseus’s life story falls into a category of universal hero myths that can be found in cultures and civilizations spanning history.  The key points of the story include the hero venturing forth seeking adventure, fame, and fortune in the early part of life, returning home, and then being called forth again in the latter part of life with a new purpose.  The burying of the oar and the sacrifices to the gods are wonderful metaphors illustrating that the journey into the latter part of life cannot be accompanied by the tools which helped navigate the early part of life.  Fr. Richard Rohr beautifully describes this shift his book Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life.

The Odyssey resonates with me as metaphor for my own life. Many of you who know me recognize that I am often fond of saying that “I’m on the return journey.”  As with Odysseus, I grew up on an island by the sea, ventured forth in the early part of life seeking adventure and fortune, and returned home to be with family.  To extend the metaphor, I can share that I am now setting out on another journey (both inner and outer) with winnowing fork in hand, seeking to separate the wheat from the chaff before my bones return to the earth.  And, what an adventure it will be!

For those of you who find yourselves in similar circumstances, what are you being called forth to be or do in the second half of life?