Ordinary People Doing Extraordinary Things

Hosting a Community of Learning in the Art of "Doing Stuff"

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Acknowledging Change, Welcoming Balance


For every one of us who has ever thought, “I had (work/life, physical, nutritional, emotional) balance but I lost it,” here’s the truth:

Balance is a changing act ~ AND ~ Change is a balancing act.

Consider nature: The autumnal equinox was this past Sunday (at 4:44 p.m. to be precise).  And it was, for the briefest of moments, that the tilt of the earth’s axis was inclined neither toward nor away from the sun.  Our world was, for an instant, balanced – in the midst of change.

Balance, it seems is dynamic and transient.  We have it, lose it, regain it, lose it, regain it.  Sometimes, with the subtly of a turning world, it barely registers.  Other times, the heave and yaw nearly pitch us off of our feet.  And accepting that change is part of balance and that balance occurs in midst change (not exclusive of it) can make the difference between enjoying the changing seasons or experiencing the twirling, waving, (nauseatingly) shifting floor of a carnival “fun”house every time the universe throws us a curve ball.

I think of it today (three days post-equinox) like a yoga pose.  When I relax into the pose by accepting the subtle changes the imbalance triggers in my muscles (strengthening, stretching, stressing) I stay centered.  When I fight the pose, struggling against the changes the imbalance provokes with every pull, push and pulse, I teeter about, focusing on the fall. 

The difference (in the former) is that I accept that change is integral to balance.  It is part of the package.  I am happy for the cooler days and longer nights of autumn, coming in the wake of the long, hot days of summer.

The difference (again in the former) is that I accept that balance occurs in the process of change.  The earth will be in its tilt-less equinox for but an instant.  It is part of the package.  In March, it will pass this way again.  And I will hardly notice. 

In the moment, in the madness of the imbalance that is frustrating, infuriating and tugging at you, acknowledge the change, and welcome the balance.  You have lost nothing.

Lotus Musings




Have you ever seen a lotus growing in a pool?  It is one of the most beautiful of water plants.  Although it may appear to float, in reality the lovely lotus flower is rooted in the mud below the surface of the water.  Not the picture you may perceive – yet the truth is: no mud, no lotus.

I recently heard this phrase, “no mud, no lotus,” not at a horticulture seminar, rather last week at a conference on Mindfulness and Psychotherapy sponsored by Harvard Medical School in Boston.  The speaker, Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh, used the phrase as a metaphor for accepting the suffering (unpleasantness) that most certainly is part of the beautiful experience of being fully present in our lives.  It is a balance.  To know happiness, one must know sadness.  To experience the taste of sweet, one's tongue must know the taste of sour.  Although I had read his words in the past and cerebrally understood, last week I got it like never before.

Sitting in the audience (of 1,200) in Boston, my mind traveled back less than a week to the ten days I’d just spent trekking in the Alps (bringing the past into the present).  It had been a relatively difficult trek.  Not at high altitude (although high enough to get snowed on).  Still, each day included at least one pass with quite significant elevation and descent.  The routine pretty much was: three- to four-thousand feet up (often over a scree and boulder-filled trail), to an amazing pass with breathtaking views and an exaltation of “I did this,” followed by a jaw-clenching, knee-jarring descent (over the scree and boulder-filled trail on the other side the summit). 

People often ask me what it is about trekking that is so alluring.  My "getting it" in Boston last week gave me the words to explain.

It is the struggle of the uphill, the wonder and joy of the summit, and the treachery of the downhill.  My appreciation for the summit is at least in part grown in the “mud” of the up and down.  I appreciate knowing that I can have these amazing experiences in many places because I choose to trek – and because I choose to be fully present in the trek.

I do not try to avoid the suffering by stopping, turning back or seeking an easier path.  I accept that the rocks and scree deepen the beauty of the summit. 

It is a way of trekking.  It is a way of being.

There are no trains, planes or automobiles that deliver me.  Yet I am here.

What are your ups and downs today?  Dwell not in one or the other.  Experience each fully.  Appreciate the balance.  And think:

No climbs, no summits.

No mud, no lotus.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Koyaanisqatsi and A Tire Rotation


O.K. so you’re feeling a little “off” today.  No big deal – you’ll just “push through” and ignore that nagging imbalance, eh?  What difference can it make anyway? 

It might be more than you think.  Consider the following:

Yesterday my husband took my car in for a check up.  When he came back he reported all was good, except wheel balance, in which case the technicians recommended rotating the tires.  I was pleased with the report – and glad to know that now my wheels are balanced.  And I thought, how come I didn’t notice that and why does it matter anyway? 


So, I did what any reasonable person would do, I “Googled” wheel balance.  According to E-How (the same source I went to when I wanted to learn to play the djembe drum and dance the running man), my wheels might be out-of-balance when I notice a slight vibration in my ride, reduced fuel efficiency, or an uneven wear pattern on my tires.  Failure to address this imbalance, apparently can eventually strain the wheel bearings and suspension system – leading to larger problems – certainly more costly to fix than the $40 to rotate the tires. 

That notion caused me to think about the human body in motion – and how we adapt to biomechanical imbalance.  For example, when we have a weakness of the Sartorius muscle in our leg, we may notice a change in our gait (disharmony), decreased performance measured in speed or strength (reduced efficiency) or an uneven wear pattern in our shoes.  And if not addressed, what happens?  Well, the human body is smart – really smart, and so our muscles, joints and nerves find new (dysfunctional) paths to generate movement – causing changes all along the kinematic chain to compensate for the muscular imbalance, which eventually strains the entire system (to include joints and bones – think bearings and suspension).  When we end up at the doctor’s office months later his medical sleuthing will likely involve some big bills to identify the cause, which may then require surgery and rehab to restore balance.

And this line of thinking naturally took me to the notion of work-life balance . . . an area in which 39% of workers worldwide are reporting imbalance (according to Global Management Firm, The Hay Group).  And how do people recognize this issue?  They may report being filled with a sense of having too much to do in too little time.  They may be feeling less productive (and less positive about their productivity) than in the past.  They may complain of fatigue, disrupted sleep patterns, or a condition known as burnout.  Disharmony, reduced efficiency, and dysfunctional patterns -- I’m sensing some repetition here.

So what is there to learn from the parallels of out of balance tires, bodies and workers? 
That there are signs that precede (forewarn) damage.
That a little thoughtful diagnosis can help to determine the cause.
That some changes are required to resume balance. 

Sounds simple, right?  Why is it then that we often resort to the same old patterns when looking for a different outcome?  You likely have heard the oft-repeated adage, “If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always got.”  While variously assigned to such sages as Anthony Robbins, Henry Ford and Mark Twain, I find the wisdom of the words enduring – though perhaps a tad shortsighted.  In terms of tires, knees and living our lives, it may be, “If you do what you’ve always done, you get . . . worse.”  After all, the bearings and suspension of our vehicles can only take so much shimmy.  The bones, joints, tendons and ligaments of our knees can only take so much out-of-balance compensation and certainly, our minds and bodies can only take so much Koyaanisqatsi (coy-on-is-kat-see; the Hopi word for life out of balance).

So what to do?  Well, I’m taking a cue from my mechanic:  Observe, diagnose and rotate!

Observe:  Develop a practice for stepping outside of yourself and really watching what is going on.  How do you do this?  Go back to that values list you developed earlier this year and compare what you want (value) to what you’ve got (how you are choosing to spend your time). 

Diagnose:  Are you finding some discrepancy in your lists?  What’s the cause?  Maybe you have lost your “no” (have decided to take any monkey).  Perhaps you lack clarity (in the absence of a clearly defined goal, you’re wandering).  Maybe you’ve even become a mind reader (“I have to do this because if I don’t it will upset my (spouse, boss, friend)”).

Rotate:  Now from what you observed (that shimmy or shake) and what you’ve diagnosed (this is causing that) – choose to change!  Find your “No.”  Restate your personal vision and focus on some clearly defined goals.  Stop telling yourself that you know what others really want/expect and ask – the only way to truly know.  Your personal observations and diagnosis will define your change.

Does this sound too simple?  Maybe.  But the truth of the matter is that many of us sink into Koyaanisqatsi and think it’s an inevitable state that we must accept.  Then, mired in a disharmonious, inefficient rut, we stay. 

In the words of American Express: tire rotation, $40; arthroscopic knee surgery, $3,650 dollars; a life in balance, priceless.

Friday, July 12, 2013

My Little Gray Ford


What do you know about shades of gray?   No, not the chic-lit erotica that has captured a place on the New York Times Best Seller list for 65 weeks (so far).  I’m talking about that place between black or white thinking that can enhance open-mindedness, create calm and (perhaps most significantly) quiet our inner critic (perfectionist) by moving us to balance (reality). 

What really got me thinking about this topic is a new series of advertisements for the Ford Focus automobile that has the tag line, “’and’ is better.”  The idea being that with this car it’s not an all or nothing proposition.  With this car you get options (read choices), leading to a better ride.   

In one ad, a couple considers a world where the menu item sweet and sour chicken becomes sweet or sour chicken -- the outcome being a completely unappealing, if not totally inedible, meal.  In another ad, attached below, two buddies consider the world of art if the only scenes available to a photographer are all- black or all- white.  The resulting pictures, sunrise over Cancun are completely uninspiring all-black or all-white shots. 

Why then if operating in a world of absolutes is so distasteful or uninspiring, do we sometimes choose to be black or white thinkers, and how can we change that thinking?  

One short answer to the why question is that we gravitate toward a language of extremes (absolutes) because our word choice is most simply and clearly understood when we choose adjectives that tend toward one end of the scale or the other.  Therefore, for simplicity’s sake we tend to identify things as clean or dirty, tall or short, new or old, calm or frenzied.  And while for each of those sets of adjectives there is a middle ground, it tends to be slightly less clear.  When we choose to describe things using less extreme terms, we often find ourselves needing more words, feeling a requirement for greater explanation and veering into a long and protracted conversation when a simple exchange of niceties is in order.  Hence: the spoken shorthand of extremes.

 It’s when we’re using that shorthand to capture our inner voice (self-critic) -- that we edge toward that unpalatable, uninspiring, depression-welcoming out-of-balance state of distorted thinking known as black or white (all or nothing).   You may recognize that dichotomous voice, which says: I am good or bad, I have succeeded or failed, I am best or worst.  

In our heads – that split language can seem completely reasonable.  What I have come to understand is that these black or white, all or nothing, thoughts tend to be vampires of sorts.  They seek the dark recesses of our minds where they can rest in peace, gain strength over time and rise empowered to drain the life from our plans, dreams and aspirations.  

The first step to taking on this Cognitive Count Dracula is recognizing it.   Notice your black or white, all or nothing language.  The next step is to get it out of your head and into the light of day by getting out a pen and paper and writing out the shades of gray.  For example, if you’re beating yourself up about your new running program, get real with it.  Somewhere between fastest and slowest is probably where you fall as a runner.  List the options on a scale using a sentence completion approach:  

I am as . . .

. . . fast as Usan Bolt
. . . fast as my neighbor Sam who runs a 4:30 mile
. . . fast as my five-year-old son
. . . fast as my twelve-year-old black lab
. . . fast as the winning crab at the Captiva Crab Race (yes, there is one!) 

No garlic or crosses required.   Just haul that bloodsucker out of that little corner of your psyche that it has claimed and expose it to the light of day.  Recognize it.  Challenge it.  Extinguish it.  (I don’t know about you, but I’m somewhere between Bolt and the crab.) 

It can get a little silly, yes, and it most certainly will move you into the middle ground of balance.  Try writing your range of options the next time you hear your inner critic whispering from somewhere deep in your head: best or worst, success or failure and anything that you’re prone to apply the “est” to (you know, fattest or skinniest, loudest or quietest, smartest or dumbest . . ..)  

Just like I won’t choose sour chicken, or an all-white picture -- I’m not going choose an inner voice without options.  

I’m going to hop a ride in that Ford Focus in a lovely shade of gray.  You know, the one that has the turbo-charge and the fuel saving eco-boost.  Are you coming?