Drum Signals

tone, tone, slap, slap.

tone, tone, tone, tone - slap, slap, slap, slap.

bass, tone, slap, tone - tone, slap, slap.

That's the sound of my brain growing new neural connections -- particularly in the prefrontal region of the frontal lobe. That's the part of my brain (yours too) where the executive brain functions take place. Functions such as planning, problem solving, active memory, verbal reasoning and multi-tasking.

I'm strengthening those functions by learning to play the djembe drum (tone, tone, slap, slap). The key here is not really the djembe. The key is the new learning.

In learning the djembe I am challenged by the hand positions and learning to build speed in my drumming. According to innovative thinking expert, Tim Hurson, those novel challenges can push my thinking outside of "elephant tethering" (think a huge pachyderm circling a stake to which it is tethered -- creating a deep rut) and into the productive thinking.

Not sure how to recognize productive thinking? Consider the last time you took on something completely new to you. Can you recall feeling uncomfortable, awkward and maybe even a bit uncertain? It is in that place of discomfort where the brain grows, and strengthens those executive functions. How cool that while I'm learning to play the drum, I also am charging my problem solving power and activating my memory muscles.

So whether your drum is the African djembe, a marching band bass drum or the backbeat snare drum . . . . take a listen for a new direction that will waken your productive thinking potential.

At some point, I expect I will "learn" the drum -- at least to a point when the soothing rhythm feels natural and calming to produce. I think that when it feels easy and natural, I'll enjoy my playing more . . . and then I'll look for new learning. For awhile now I've been thinking about learning to use the abacus to perform less simple math computations . . .

Thanking the Raven

I woke up this morning and gave thanks to the raven.  In his mystical, magnanimous way, he’s again stolen back the sun. Raven is bringing us the light that illuminates the still bare trees, the tiny juncos seeking ground seeds and the my little dogs’ foray into the new day.   For those of you unfamiliar with the story of the raven bringing sun, it’s a tale I heard and saw depicted in Alaska folklore and art for the eight years we lived there. 

If you’ve never seen one, a raven is a beautiful, clever, giant-of-a-scavenger bird with iridescent blue/black feathers and an almost human cry.  According to the stories of different Alaska villages, raven stole back the sun (and in some versions the stars and the moon as well) from an evil shaman who had secreted it away above the clouds – bringing cold and darkness to the earth below.  Traditional storytelling says that this is the annual gift of the raven – to bring back the sun after a long, dark Alaska winter. 

Although I no longer live in Alaska, I still rejoice as the days grow longer – and the earlier sunrise is a certain delight.  Never a night owl, I always have loved the morning best of all.  It’s my favorite time of day – and the spring is likewise my favorite season – full of hints of soon-to-be-revealed beauty, a suggestion of change and promise of new learning.

Waking happy at the prospect of every new day is a gift.  No matter what may happen as my day proceeds, I wake in joy each day.  Morning reminds me anew that I can live only in the present moment.  There’s no need to re-run the disappointments of the previous day.  There’s no value in rushing to “figure out” the future.  If I am not present for this moment, if I choose instead to rue or reminisce the past; or to rush or ready for the future, the new day pleasures will be forever gone for this day.  I will not be able to return to this moment to appreciate the sunrise through the trees, the quiet of my pre-dawn kitchen, the still-warm puppy belly of my youngest dog.   I’m not willing to give that up!

Presence is a connection that calls forth authenticity.  It beckons you out of your head and into the world.  Living in the moment you notice how you fuel your body, and eat with intention.  Living in the moment you make yourself available to others, and lead with intention.  Living in the moment you recognize your framing of the world, and open your mind to new learning.

How present are you?  Ask yourself these three questions:

• What did you have for breakfast?
• What did you notice about the world around you on your ride to work today?
• When you politely inquired of a colleague, “How are you?” what did you notice about their response?

Is anyone present every moment?  Well, perhaps the most practiced of wise- men and women, perhaps.  Thankfully, it’s not an all or nothing proposition for the rest of us, it is an opportunity we always have available to us . . . in every moment.  

Breathe, smile, awake to your presence -- and don't forget to thank the raven.

Musings From the Gym

Three days out of five I pretty much can count on seeing him on the elliptical cross trainer at the gym where I work out.  I don’t know his name.  We’ve never spoken beyond a quiet, “Good morning.”  What I do know is that he uses the downstairs cardio equipment reserved for those exercisers who are unable to negotiate the stairs to climb to the cardio loft.  His legs are pale.  His knobby knees accentuate ropy calves driving the spherical energy of the exercise machine.  He wears baggy shorts, a loose fitting t-shirt, thick glasses and a smile – always a smile.  Our eyes meet when I enter or exit the weight room and his smile is a gift I find easy to return. I don’t know the story of what must be the close to ninety years (maybe more) he has lived.  I do know that he chooses at this stage of life to remain active (and surely there must be days when he feels less inclined to show up for that workout).  His choice to stay in motion attracts and inspires me.  He reminds me that “(o)ur behavior is a function of our decisions, not of our conditions.” (Covey, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People).  

We have the power to choose our behavior  . . . in every moment.

Behavior is not dictated by conditions.  Behavior is the outcome of how we CHOOSE to respond (or perhaps not respond) to conditions.  I always smile when someone describes to me how angry (sad, frustrated, happy . . .) another person has made him or her.  Really?  How exactly did that other person get inside your head and decide for you what your response would be to their words or action?  That question usually brings first, an incredulous look, then a self-deprecating chuckle. 

Why would we consign to a situation, another person, type-model or stereotype how we will behave?  If I didn’t believe that people could choose to change, I wouldn’t do what I do.  If I wasn’t certain that people are not a product of their conditions, stories or circumstance – rather the embodiment of living fully into one’s decisions to learn, change and grow – I may question what contribution I can make as a coach.

I do believe choosing to show up, live into who we want to be – in alignment with our values – may find us on an elliptical cross trainer well beyond the years when others may expect to see us there.  I do believe we can live fully, joyously and authentically by recognizing and evoking the power of choice. 

So, how are you choosing to behave today? 

And what will you be choosing at ninety (or beyond)?

Inspirational pondering: In 2009, Sister Madonna Buder became the oldest female finisher of an Ironman Triathlon at the age of 79.  Her time was a respectable 16:54:30.

Can I give more?

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love a plan.  Reflecting that passion, I maintain several large calendars that allow me to see multiple months of any of my plans (business, professional development, fitness) simultaneously.  In the case of my fitness calendar, I detail all of my workouts on the path to any particular fitness goal.  I take pleasure in building my fitness calendar -- carefully including factiods about my next fitness goal (location, distance, elevation profile . . . ) as well as pictures and quotes that inspire me toward my goal.  

The highlight quote on my current fitness calendar (tied to a marathon training plan) is from record-setting marathon runner, Paul Tergat.  It reads: "Ask yourself: 'Can I give more?'.  The answer is usually: 'Yes.'." 

I like this quote because it motivates me to observe the effort I'm putting into my plan overall and into any individual workout.  It keeps me in a place of intention in my plan.  Importantly, it's an observation I make, not a judgment.  That is, I check in for useable feedback, which may cause me to adjust my plan.  I'm careful not to tie a value judgment to my "can-I-give-more?" answer.  I don't set up observations to evaluate results as "good" or "bad" rather just to NOTICE useable feedback to make course adjustments that keep me moving in the direction of my goal.  

What I sometime observe with clients is a pattern of their "confessing" a missed milestone or reduced effort followed by a question of "is that bad?" or "is that o.k.?"   My response is that it is neither bad nor good, it is what it is.  What may be of value is how you use the feedback.  Can you push a little harder?  Might you go a little further?  Have you given all to the point of reduced return (maybe indicated by burn-out, injury (in fitness plans) or loss of positive emotional associations with your goal).  To answer the "can-I-give-more?" question, one must have an understanding of how objectively to observe effort, exertion or progress.  So, how do I observe effort without judging performance?  

First, I find it helpful to have a baseline understanding of where I am at the start of any endeavor.  For this example, I'll stick with the marathon plan.  I recorded my baseline abilities early on in my calendar keeping. I looked at weekly running mileage, longest (at the start of my program) run distance and miles-per-hour speed based on a one-mile time trial in a four-mile run. 

I use that baseline information when I check in on subsequent training.  Note: I also routinely use a heart rate monitor, which enables me to observe how hard my heart is working (the heart, normally linked to subjectivity, can be quite the objective organ when it comes to observing heart rate).  If I notice something is different in my planned progression, I adapt without judgment.  We all have days when we can give more -- and some days when we really can't.  Knowing how to use the answer to "Can I give more?",  helps me to stay on track, motivated and progressing toward my fitness goals.

This same approach is applicable to observing progress toward most goals -- and making adjustments "to do."  Here are the steps:

1. Observe and record your baseline.  This is observing like a scientist -- no evaluation, just noticing.  Record that baseline finding on a chart or calendar -- or in a journal.  
2. Identify tools to measure change from the baseline (or subsequent changed states) -- again, not evaluating, rather gaining awareness of what you are doing (or how much you "can give").
3. Use your "noticing" tools and record your results.
4. Consider how you can use what you have noticed (the feedback) to affect change.
5. Adapt your plan and return to step #3.

Above all -- execute the steps in a no-judgment zone.  Observe, learn and grow.

So, take a moment to think about any goal you have set for yourself.  Can you give more?   How do you know?

Getting Past Groundhog Day

Yesterday was Groundhog Day.  And, since I now reside in Pennsylvania the frenzied attention paid to the appearance of ‪Punxsutawney Phil (not to mention attention to the myriad of lesser groundhogs touted by any number of townships here in the Commonwealth) was pretty “in my face.” 

All of the Groundhog Day hoopla reminded me of the 1993 movie by the same name.  In the movie, Bill Murray is a weatherman who relives February second over and over.  The novelty in his reliving experience is that Murray alone is aware that he is stuck in a do-loop (everyone else is simply living the day).  In one provocative piece of dialogue Murray’s character, Phil, poses the question, “What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?” 

Luckily today advanced on my calendar to February third, yet Phil’s question still was on my mind when I awoke this morning.

Phil’s simple-on-the-surface question really gave me pause.  How many times have any of us sat down at the end of a day and thought, “What did I do today that really mattered?” 

While I accept that what matters may occur serendipitously, I believe that what matters more often happens when we set an intention for how we will move forward into a new day.  The trick of it is in knowing what matters to us.  In actuality, any day may become Groundhog Day (a la the movie) if we are “stuck in one place.”  Getting unstuck can be hard work.  Defining what matters is part of that work.  Once we know what matters, setting an intention for doing what matters forwards action.

So, yesterday Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow.  Six more weeks of winter – each day of which I plan to live intentionally – doing stuff that I know matters.  How about you?

You may have a wellness intention around healthy eating.  Perhaps you have a leadership intention around delegation.  Whatever it is, if it really matters to you, give it voice.  Say it aloud.  Write it down.  Be clear and actionable in stating your intention.  Then do what matters.  

Groundhog Day should really come around only once a year.

Thought for the day: “There was a power outage at a department store yesterday. Twenty people were trapped on the escalators.” ~Steven Wright