Sacrifice Not Required!

Today was a peculiar day for writing. The weather is perfect. It’s sunny, the temperature is in the low 70s and there is a gentle breeze. My relatively new office overlooks an amazing stream and the outdoor pours in, inviting me to come out and play.

Guess what I want to do? I want to have a temper tantrum, which could look like sitting here staring outside, and feeling angry that I’m here and not there. Yet, I sit here with my fingers poised over the keyboard and wait for writing to pour forth. Surely there is something that needs to be expressed.  I get it, I’m going to share with you my frustration about being at the keyboard, rather than walking barefoot in the grass.

It’s good to remember that distractions take many forms. One that’s very familiar to me is worry. My worries are generally about something that’s either going to happen or should happen, but probably won’t. Today though, my distraction is annoyance. The alternative to writing appears to be so attractive that I forget, temporarily, why I write.

I love writing. When I write, I see things more clearly, I connect with you and I expand my abilities as a teacher. I see that part of the nature of my distraction is the illusion of sacrifice. My little voice is protesting my choice of activity with the warning that if I don’t go outside RIGHT NOW, I will miss out on the best day of the year. The voice is very convincing. I’ve followed it many times.

I realized a while back, that the type of sacrifice the voice is using to induce me to abandon writing isn’t real. I can write and spend some time outside. This won’t be possible if it sit here paralyzed by “writers block”. I decided about ten minutes ago, ENOUGH. I’m going to have some fun writing about my dilemma and not put any attention on the voice’s dire prediction. I know I’ll be outside in no time at all.

How often do you allow distraction to take you away from what’s important? It happens so subtly. One minute you are getting ready to do what you love, and the next you are drifting in thoughts. You discover later (could be minutes or hours or days) that you have been lost.

Remember distraction comes with a high cost, as the present moment will never be here again. OK.. now it’s time to go outside

Opportunities Lost!

This morning, I was visiting with a friend who’s a professor at the business school of a local university. He was just finishing grading term papers. We talked about how he grades, and I was struck by the attention he places on each paper. He writes comments, as he grades pointing out how well the student is meeting his expectations.

I asked, “ Do you give the papers back to the students?” He said, “If they ask for them”. I wondered,  “How many would want them back?” He said, “About 5%.”

I was stunned. For the most part, these students, who didn’t ask to see their term papers, where walking away from a great opportunity to learn. This had me wonder how many opportunities to learn I walk away from.

For instance, every interaction I have with others is an opportunity to learn. I can begin with looking back at a particular interaction and feel if I was present with the person. If I wasn’t, what was the distraction? I can remember if there was any judgment of the person. If I did, what can I learn about myself from this judgment? I can also recognize if I made any sort of commitment, like “let’s have lunch soon”. If I did, what am I going to do about the commitment?

We are in school and don’t realize it. Our life offers opportunities to learn about ourselves and all we have to do is take the time to get the lesson.

Until later,

Thomas

Racing Ahead!

Yesterday morning, I was feeling a familiar urge. I wanted to begin the process of writing a book proposal and the details for this were a hundred pages ahead in the book I was reading. I thought, “I can just browse ahead and get to that part NOW”.

I was stopped in my tracks. What was the urgency that was pushing me ahead? Why was I not peaceful to let the experience of this conversation with the author unfold rather than push ahead to get a “fix” for my restlessness?

This question put me into a state of reflection. Wherever I look, I find so many who are rushing here and there. They are on the Internet searching everywhere; getting lost from their original destination by the distraction of its endless possibilities. They are rushing to their jobs; alone in cars with their stress levels rising by the moment. They are impatiently rushing past their family upon arrival from work; looking for the TV Guide for tonight’s best reality program.

Walking around, looking ahead, I seem to be missing out on what is right in front of my eyes. Have I always been this way? I’m not completely sure, but I sense the answer is “for a long time.” This restlessness has been the force behind my drive to excel at creating venture after venture. What is the longing?

I pondered some more and heard that old voice again, “If you don’t move fast you are going to lose out.” What will I lose out on, I wondered? “You will lose out on being first, and you know that those who are successful are always first.”

So being first or at last at the front of the pack is pushing me forward. Its engendering the continuous impatience. I am reminded of the tortoise and hare story. I guess I never really believed that.

This impatience has created problems. I will sometimes act without consideration for the consequences. This leads to starting things that I don’t complete because of the impact in terms of money or other resources, such as time. It can also get me off in the weeds, so to speak. I get involved in things that aren’t in my “best interest”.

What can I do? Take a breath when I hear that old voice urging me “to skip to the end of the book.”  Implement the 24-hour rule – don’t act on anything important sooner than 24 hours after I think it’s a good idea. Finally, remember that having a few extraordinary experiences is far more valuable that a lot of ordinary ones.

Until later,

Thomas

The Path of Training Wheels

Yesterday, I had one of those heartwarming life experiences. I was present with Michael, our six-year-old, when he rode his bike for the first time without his training wheels. The glow of his inner confidence and joy were breathtaking.

As I watched him become quickly more and more proficient, I was thinking about the importance of training wheels. For Michael, the training wheels provided stability as he became more confident in the use of his bike. There were several times, in the past, when he asked me to remove the training wheels, only to ask me almost immediately to put them back on.

Yesterday was a beautiful summer-like day. We spent time tuning up his bike after exposure to winter’s snow and cold. After a trip to the hardware store to get oil to lubricate the gears and chain, he said,” Papa, can you take off my training wheels?” At first, I wondered if this was just like the other times when he asked and wasn’t ready. I delayed a bit because I didn’t want to take the wheels off, just to put them back on again. Yet, he insisted and so off they came.

With a bit of initial instability, he was off. I held the back of the bike, as parents have done for children for generations. He wobbled and with courage rode down a small hill and around the corner. Someone who was doing work on the farm and witnessed his first-time experience offered heartful congratulations. I watched Michael’s confidence rise. Soon, he was asking for me to step back and allow him to complete his learning of being able to ride the bike on his own.

Quickly, he was riding and turning and stopping. He looked to me and said, “Papa, I know I need to practice to get better, so I’m going to practice and practice.”  I know that Michael will fall as he is learning and that each fall is a lesson that could never be learned while he had the training wheels on. Michael’s experience with his bike’s training wheels is like much of life.

In some ways, training wheels are like the rules that we are given when we are new at something. As children, we are presented with clear rules and boundaries, mostly for our protection and learning about how things work. These rules aren’t meant to be rigid boundaries for all our life. They are there to meet the level of competence or discernment we have attained at the time.

We don’t realize this truth, and sometimes our parents cling to rules that are no longer needed, for their own comfort. This creates tension, as it must, when children are ready to engage life without these training wheels. They will get bumped and bruised and will learn consequences in a way that is only possible without these boundaries.

In business, we provide employees with rules. These rules were developed for control and consistency. I realize that society requires some rules for living in harmony with each other, however, for the most part organizational rules are limiting and diminish the potential of the individual and the organization. What if we treated these rules as training wheels? They are there for guidance and support when someone is new. If we encourage them to take off the training wheels, with support from someone who is already capable, their sense of fulfillment and satisfaction will be benefit everyone involved.

The joy Michael was feeling yesterday could only come from fully experiencing the world of training wheels. He had previously tested his readiness to let go, and stepped back into the safety of the training wheels when he felt he wasn’t ready. Only then could he know the joy of finally letting go of his training wheels.

Each time we enter a new world, we are offered training wheels until we are ready to take the leap of riding our bike solo. Yet, as I get older, I am more and more reluctant to allow myself the use of training wheels. I feel I should already be capable, even in areas I am new to. This reluctance brings great limitations.

We have an opportunity for mastery in our life. Mastery calls us to learn, to step beyond the rules and teachings of others, to the world of our full experience. This full experience feels like the exhilaration of flying. We are not on the ground. We are soaring and learning and growing and experiencing the fullness of life.

I invite you to look at places where you are living by the rules. Are these rules helpful in experiencing your full potential? If they aren’t, perhaps it’s time to take off your training wheels.

Until later,
Thomas