Resistance is futile

How many times do we hear ourselves, and others, say things like, "I'm really going to change the way I do things at work." I was talking with someone the other day who was commenting on his iterative process of failure. It seemed that no matter what plan he put into place, he found himself doing the same unproductive things with his time. As we talked about it, he made a funny face and, using a voice that simulated an alien from a sci fi movie, said, "Get used to being a dolt. Stop trying to change. Resistance is futile."

He thought back (not too far back) on things that he had tried to change and said, "If I approach things from the perspective of resisting the temptation to fall into the old habit, I usually fail. There might be a brief period of success, but failure is tenacious. It has all the time in the world to wait for me to get tired of resisting, or to forget about it. Either way, I eventually lose. Resistance is futile."

I asked him if he ever succeeded. He said that he has won at times; and that the recipe is always simple. Getting the ingredients together, however, is the more difficult part. Actually, there is only one ingredient - commitment. Some might argue that one makes a 'commitment' to resist during those brief periods of success. But that is not what I mean by commitment. I am not talking about committing to change. I am talking about committing to a different way of being. In that new way of being, there is nothing to resist. The option of engaging the old ways does not exist in the same way. When the commitment is clear, the insufficiencies of the old ways seem so glaring that there is no longer any temptation.

If, on the other hand, the commitment is to resist the temptation of the old ways, when one succeeds in resisting, one is left with more of the same. Each successful resistance leads to the opportunity to resist the next time. What kind of life is that where the focus is on resistance? This perspective focuses on "the problem" and our resistance to it. That way of thinking, however, has the potential for creating a problem-focused way of living. We are always moving away from something.

Taking an appreciative approach to life puts our desired future as something we are moving toward. It is based on our past successes, so we can be encouraged that it is possible. The focus of our past success is not just any old success, but one that rated as a big one - a peak experience.

There are a number of books written on this process called "appreciative inquiry." It grew out of the work of David Cooperrider at Case Western Reserve University and has influenced a wide range of professional areas like organizational change, coaching, and personal development. One of the books I found helpful for guiding personal growth is Appreciative Coaching.

If you want to go right to the source, get Cooperrider's book. Either one will help you see things differently so that your commitments to change might be more easily made and maintained.

I'm almost ready...

I can't even begin to count the times I have said, "I'm almost ready to..." I was really almost ready after reading Neil Fiore's book on procrastination called The Now Habit. For me, however, almost ready has become a steady state. It is my homeostasis. I am delicately balanced between doing something and doing nothing. I keep my life teetering in a space where not much is happening BUT it could at any moment IF I could just take the important step.

I don't have any problem at all coming up with the big ideas. In fact, I am plagued by them. I don't have much problem taking off with them as I dig into their potential. I wander around thinking and writing about them. I collect information and consider the "what ifs" that might occur if I put them into action. I do all this stuff...for a loooooooooong time.

I have been frustrated by this most of my life. One would think that eventually I would catch on. But, as the crazy Saturday Night Live comedian, John Belushi, used to say, "But, noooOOOOOOooooooo," I haven't. I have periods of time when I think I have a handle on things, and then it's gone. Here is the cascade as it has unfolded so far: Seven or 8 years ago I realized that I have often been frustrated by being unprepared for projects or presentations. There were very few times when I failed to spend a lot of time getting ready. But when game time rolled around, I was ill-prepared. What frustration!

I remember a time when I was getting ready to run a 12-hour seminar. My friend asked me if I was ready. I told him that I was - that I had over 400 slides prepared. He looked at me with that look that people use when they are questioning your sanity; and asked if I had considered how many slides I would have to show per minute in order to get through them all in 12 hours. I hadn't thought of that. (It was just over 1.5 slides per minute - for 12 hours!) I had accumulated a lot of material but hadn't really thought about the execution. Needless to say, I pared the slides down considerably.

Sometime later, I had an insight that my failure to prepare came as a result of my lack of focus. I was not concentrating my efforts on the topic effectively. Instead, I was putting all kinds of interesting stuff into the mix that was not really necessary. I needed to hone my attention down to something manageable. I was excited to come to that realization. But it didn't change as much of my behavior as I had hoped. I had developed procrastination in order to avoid the feeling of overwhelm that came with seeing a project with no focus. Nearly everything seemed relevant.

Time moved on...I began to ask myself why I was not yet effective now that I knew that focus is important. The next layer was revealed: I needed clarity on my goal. Focus required a focal point. As an intuitive person, I generally fail to recognize that my big idea needs a nucleus. There is a nucleus, of course, I just don't see it. So, now I had awareness that clarity was critical. I had experience with being clear on my objective. I would jump in and work like crazy fueled by my accomplishment as I moved toward a well-defined goal.

More time...Clarity wasn't coming. I had awareness of it and desire for it, but it eluded me. I kept wondering about how I would peel back this layer. Certain areas in my life were more active. There was energy and I was once again writing and thinking, and I was taking small action steps. I continued to feel that the next level in my life was just beyond a thin veil right in front of me.

Where was the clarity?...As I pondered how I would see things in a better light, the question emerged, "clarity about what?" I realized that I was not really committed to many things. I began to wonder how I could be clear about anything when I did not make a commitment to its importance in my life. I didn't need to marry the issue, but I did need to recognize that I had to decide that it was important enough to devote time to it as I put other things on the back burner, or off the stove entirely. But, that still didn't make much difference. I needed to find a reason to make a commitment.

Now what?...I realized that value was important to commitment, but I didn't have a way to energize my values. I needed passion. I had done a lot of personal reflection. I had used any number of exercises recommended by books and articles in addition to processes that I dreamed up. I knew the things that seemed important to me, but they seemed like these free-floating entities in my life. They were somehow influencing my life, but I couldn't get a handle on just how. Then came the next layer.

Passion was peeled back to reveal that those things most important to me needed context in order to activate them in a way that would add real meaning to their expression. Without a story for my life, my passions were like having a really nice, new car with no place to go. I can only cruise around for so long before boredom sets in. I need some destinations - some errands to run, a friend who needs ride somewhere, someone to visit etc. Not many people are happy to be in a story where they are the main character who moves around aimlessly. We like having a plan, a goal, a mission, passion-driven purpose.

Context provided a way to layout my values inside a story that would excite me to make a commitment, That would help me get some clarity on my purpose, which would in turn allow me to focus on my plan and truly prepare for my future.

We shall see what happens before this layer is peeled back...

Someday, when those guys finally retire...

I am very attuned to the cynicism around me. I wrote my doctoral dissertation on the subject. Unfortunately, it didn't reduce my cynical attitude, but I really, really, really understand it now. Big deal! I still contribute as much negative crap as everybody else; and more than many.

Many times we comment on how great things could be if only someone would retire, quit, die or something, such that things could change for the "better." It doesn't seem to matter which social layer is involved; people are perceived to be exercising their power in narrowly self-interested ways. Consequently, they stand to get what they want at expense of someone else. Their motives are suspect, making their actions less than honorable.

It is not uncommon to hear people refer to a "healthy dose of cynicism." What is that? What is healthy about suspicion with regard to the motivations of others? Anytime we get into the business of judging the motives of others, we tread on uncertain ground. It is true that there are people in the world who will take advantage of others given the chance. In fact, there are those who plan on doing just that. For the most part, however, people are not calculating ways to cheat others. Knowing their actions still does not tell us of their motives.

Just because you are not out to cheat me does not mean that our intentions and motives will blend harmoniously. We can still find ourselves butting heads over important issues. We can move ahead through some real communication, but that takes practice to do it well. Traditionally, we have been taught to engage in a debate-type of format - each presenting our arguments. The one with the most convincing argument wins. We argue over ideas - either mine or yours. If we could move to deeper levels, like purposes, we might be able to see that we are each interested in similar things, and that we just have different ideas about how to proceed.

There is a Mayan saying that goes something like this:

We didn't put our ideas together;
We put our purposes together.
We agreed.
Then we decided.

Understanding each others' purposes requires time and effort but promises a lot. Perhaps we should do less advocating for our ideas and do more listening to others.

One time, as I was preparing a workshop on some of this material, I was thinking about Max Planck's statement that has been paraphrased as "science proceeds one funeral at a time." That seemed to support the title of this blog entry - when someone dies, we will finally be able to move ahead. As I pondered that I was struck by what I later realized was the obvious question:

Who is waiting for me to die? 

I began to wonder about the positive changes that might occur in the world around me if I were not there to resist them. In all of my well-intended behavior, I am impeding some positive change in the world. Someone, either knowingly or not, is waiting for me to get out of the way so that something better can happen for them, or for the world.

Think about it...

Are we clear?

I was standing in line at In-and-Out Burger yesterday. The man in front of me was ordering for his wife and himself. He ordered a #3, which is a burger, fries and medium drink. Then he ordered a second batch of french fries and another drink.

The burger meister behind the counter began to read back the order to verify that he had gotten everything. He said, "That's a burger with (blah, blah, blah), two fries and," when the man interrupted to say, "no, I want one order of french fries. Doesn't the #3 come with fries?"

The burger meister said, "Yes, it does."

The man said, "That's what I thought, okay."

The burger meister then begins to repeat the order again, "Okay, that's a burger with (blah, blah, blah), two fries and," when the man interrupted to say, "no, I want one order of french fries. Didn't you just say that the the #3 comes with fries?"

This goes on for one more round as the burger meister is wondering if he is in the Twilight Zone; each time he patiently says, "Yes, it does." Watching this was like watching the famous Abbot and Costello comedy sketch, "Who's on first."

In the end both the burger meister and the man ordering reach a point where they just accept that the order will be whatever it would be. The man ordering did not understand that even though he ordered a #3, the burger meister was going to itemize the order without any reference to a "#3." Consequently, the man thought that he was getting a #3 AND two orders of fries.

I then placed my order and stood around waiting for the food to be prepared. The man who had the fries dilemma was waiting as well. I noticed that he was now studying his receipt. I assumed that he was pouring over it hoping to find that extra order of fries. I don't believe that he was finally clear until his receipt matched the food that he received.

Although this episode was mildly entertaining, while at the same time a little irritating, I wondered how many times this same thing happens every day. All it would have taken to help this situation was for one of the parties to ask for clarification. The burger meister could have explained that there were two fries total. The man could have asked if the "two fries" included those in the #3.

How many times do we fail to recognize that we need to stop the process and ask for clarification? Many times we forge ahead allowing our frustration and anger to build to the point where our emotions block productive action. The angrier we get the "righter" we believe we are in our position. We suffer under the delusion that the other person sees and understands the situation just as we do. Instead, there is often a significant difference in what we each bring to the situation.

Consequently, each party can end up thinking, "If this person would just wise up a little, we could solve this!" ODGeek believes that it just might be true. If each party had the capacity to step back for a moment, they could gain more insight and wise up - things could change.

Confess!!

Most people have some anxiety about doing something in front of others. For many this adds an "edge" to the situation, which improves the outcome. For others, that edge is virtually a cliff from which they fall time and again.

Most performers have stories about times on stage where they didn't feel that tingle of anxiety, and that night's performance was flat and lifeless. The edginess signifies that one is at the boundary of creativity - that something new is going to happen. Even though the performance has been executed countless times in the past, something new can happen each time. Without the edge, the performer and the audience experience a lifeless recreation of the past. With that creative edge, however, comes the possibility of failure, which is also part of the excitement.

A percussionist friend, we'll call him Stu for the purposes of this story, once told me about how much he admired another drummer's expertise and control. Stu talked about how the other drummer never seemed made a mistake in addition to doing things so well. Stu said that he, personally, always felt a little out of control when he played, and worried that at any moment he would lose it during performances. That would be very embarrassing for him.

Some weeks after that conversation, I happened to run into the drummer about whom my friend Stu had spoken so highly. I related Stu's compliments to him, which brought a funny smile to his face.

He said, "You know, I do know what I can play, AND what I can't play. I practice my chops so that I can exhibit that high level of control on stage. I don't like to mess up." I had seen him play and could attest to his abilities; he was tight and I had no doubt that he would play without mistake.

The drummer then went on to say, "Stu amazes me. He is such an edgy player. He takes chances on stage that I could never take. He is out there on the edge where he could lose it at any moment. I can't go there; I could never take the risk. Time and again I think 'this is the moment where he won't make it work,' and then he does it. I really admire him for that and wish that I could do it. But, my need for control is so great that I can't let myself get that close to potential failure."

Years later, a student once came to me for advice. He said that when he had to perform the skills that he had learned, that he would get all hot and sweaty. That would embarrass him and just make things worse. He was afraid to perform at all. He said that he thought others could tell that he was nervous and, consequently, would lose confidence in him, which only made matters worse. I told him to confess his anxiety to them. I told him how he could frame his story to them such that he didn't look like a cluck, but merely someone who wants to do a good job. He tried it, and the anxiety was instantly reduced to a very manageable level. He did a good job. Confession set him free.

At the Woodstock Rock Festival back in the late 1960s, Crosby, Stills and Nash were on stage to perform their new hit song "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes." It was already a massive hit in the U.S.. But there they were on stage before half a million people to play it live. At the end of his introductory remarks, Stephen Stills said to the audience something to the effect, "We've never played before a group this large; and we're scared shitless." Confession sets you free.

A year or so later, I was on stage before a group of 3000 people. I had never played or sung in front of so many people. As I stood there making my introductory remarks the words of Stephen Stills came to me. So, I said, "I haven't really done anything like this before, and I am pretty scared." I left out the "shitless" part. Everyone laughed; I was free.

After reflecting on this experience over the the years, I finally realized something: I stepped onto the stage to perform "in front of" those people. I was there for me. I wanted to make myself feel good by performing at a certain level. Confessing that I was scared changed that. I was telling them that what they thought was important to me. I was now performing "for them." I was bringing a gift with humility. The outcome was entertainment for them and a great level of satisfaction for me. Since I was not trying to hide my nervousness, I was free to direct that mental energy to performing.

I am amazed at how much hiding we do in our daily lives. I'm not saying that we need to walk around telling everyone we meet that we are scared about life. I'm suggesting that we tell those people who need to know that they are important to us. We can tell them that we are a little anxious about failing them. That simple process changes the focus from "me going through my life for me" to "me going through life in service of others."

* Results are not typical

It occurred to me recently that many of the ads that I see on television these days talk about something great that can happen to you if only you will buy their product or service. The ads show people who have lost huge amounts of weight, made thousands of dollars, or accomplished other amazing feats*. Everyone is smiling and talking about how great life is now that they are thin, rich, or otherwise so much better off since they used the product or service*.

Images are flashing across the screen with subtle, and not so subtle, almost promises that if only you're fat, poor, or otherwise impoverished self would invest your money, that you, too, could have all of this!* It always amazes me that some movie star, with whom we have nothing in common when it comes to life style, can somehow entice us to spend our hard-earned money on a chance. This is especially funny when we see a star, who has been overweight more times than we can count, telling us how great this diet program is. Doesn't anyone stop to wonder about the fact that he or she is being paid huge amounts of money and is receiving huge amounts of support in order to recover his or her sveltness?

Someone else (a regular guy) is sitting in his Mercedes convertible telling you how is just started his business four months ago and he is already collecting $10,000 each month working only 9 hours per week.* Other testimonials reel across the screen including Mr. and Mrs. Ordinaire smiling as they stand in front of their new mansion that they bought with their first year's profits.*

Case after case in commercial after commercial entices us to follow these success stories with our investment. All the while the little asterisk at the bottom of the screen is telling us the truth - results are not typical. Does anyone stop to wonder about what typical means? The American Heritage dictionary defines typical as "exhibiting the qualities, traits, or characteristics that identify a kind, class, group, or category: a typical suburban community."

Consider the Pareto Principle (the 80/20 rule): 80% of the work will be done by 20% of the people; 80% of the alcohol in any given bar will be drunk by 20% of those present. Or, 80% of the wonderfulness of product being advertised will be experienced by only 20% of the people who buy it; and that is probably stretching things a lot.

Another way to look at this is that the little asterisk is screaming, "THIS WILL NOT BE YOU!!!"

If there is anything that is typical, it is the fact that the results are not typical. In the face of being virtually promised that we will not experience these results, we continue to take the chance. Perhaps the lottery has reinforced this for us. In America, we have an entreprenuerial spirit. We take chances. We love to have our dream machines polished and running. Someone eventually wins the $160,000,000 jackpot; and someone's life might be changed by reading this blog, but...*

*Results are not typical

Help! Tech Support

A friend told me this story just the other day. It is something that I had heard in a joke at one time with only minor changes in the details. As a joke it is funny. As a real story, it is a sad commentary on how people treat one another.

Tech Support for a high-tech company gets a call from one of the muckity-mucks who has somehow dropped his cell phone in the toilet of the men's room at work. (I know what you are thinking, "how is that a tech support problem?" My question exactly!) When the Tech Support guy arrives, the muckity-muck tells the tech guy to get the phone out of the toilet. Somehow, reaching into a toilet is easier for the techy? I don't think so.

Well, the Tech Support guy was no dummy. He got a plastic bag, pulled it over his arm, reached into the toilet and grabbed the phone. No muss - no fuss. Now, a question: who should be making the bigger bucks, the guy who doesn't have the balls, or the brains, to do the job for himself, or the Tech Support guy who got the job done? Perhaps an even bigger question: what does this say about the muckity-muck's attitude toward others?

Each day we are each faced with the same choice: accept responsibility for our actions or not. Many times those choices are known only to us. Selfish choices often go unnoticed by others. If we are really well-practiced, those choices might even go unnoticed by us. Then, putting "me first" becomes our autopilot. Rationalizations abound; we hear them all the time, "Well, it's his job. It is certainly not mine!" In the end, however, we each know the truth. It only takes some reflection, and the willingness to accept what we see.

Much like the adage that "to have love, one must first let it go," real power in our lives emerges only after we let go of the power to coerce or reward that often comes with position. It is the person known for integrity, and the willingness to step into the fire, who is surrounded by others more than willing to stand in the person's place in the face of challenge.