Category Archives: Work

Mamas, It’s OK To Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Mannys

Over at Boston.com’s “Extra Bases” blog, there were over 50 comments on Monday from fans reacting to all of this Manny business. A few of them accused Manny of being a bad role model for kids. For example, here’s what commenter “Paul W.” wrote:

“When I tell my little leaguers to model themselves after a major leaguer, I leave off Manny. I don’t want my players to think that selfish behavior is a positive attribute for a team. Follow Varitek, Pedroia, Schilling, or Beckett’s example, even Jeter’s or Posada’s. Any of these guys because they love and respect the game. But never Manny.”

I’ve taught middle school and coached a total of about 30 youth sports teams over the years, and I know where Paul W. is coming from. Yes, in ONE obvious way, Manny’s approach to the game of baseball is not what I would teach my young players. His obvious flaw is that, frequently (but not always), he fails to sprint down the first base line as soon as he has hit the ball. Sometimes, he hangs out in the batter’s box and admires the ball he has just hit, and sometimes he runs at less than 100%. This isn’t OK in the majors, but it’s a cardinal sin in little league. (I know that Paul W. is also referring to Manny’s alleged lack of “team spirit,” but no matter how confident sportswriters and fans are about the details of this most recent story about Manny’s knee, we don’t know the whole story).

Yup, Manny loafs sometimes. Yup, that can be maddening and costly. However, in many ways, Manny sets a positive example for young baseball players. Here’s what I would say to players on my youth baseball teams about what to emulate about Manny Ramirez.

1. He approaches every at-bat with a clear mind. Manny’s not thinking about his last plate appearance and he’s not thinking about his latest gaffe in the field. He’s not even thinking about his contract and what his agent, Scott Boras, wants him to do. No, Manny leaves that all behind when he strides towards the batter’s box. He’s in his own MannyZone, and he’s thinking about two things: seeing a strike, and hammering it. Even with two strikes, Manny’s focus is unbelievable.

2. He expects to get a hit, every at-bat. The way Manny walks to the plate with an air of self-confidence, settles into the batter’s box, taps the plate with his bat, assumes his regal batting stance, and stares out at the pitcher… everyone in the park knows he’s already envisioned the line drive that he’s about to smash. This summer, my co-coaches and I taught our eight year-old players to chant the words, “I crush balls in the strike zone,” while standing in the on-deck circle and stepping into the batter’s box. Why? We were teaching them to think like Manny.

3. When he strikes out or grounds into a double play, Manny immediately puts the failure behind him and moves on. No frustration, no cursing himself or the baseball gods, no wasting emotional energy on “what-ifs.” (Maybe this is why Youk and Manny don’t get along.) Manny just accepts his fate, takes a seat, and starts preparing for his next at-bat. Sometimes his lack of frustration is interpreted as a lack of intensity or competitiveness, but anger just doesn’t work for Manny – and anger and frustration don’t work too well for kids, either. The play is over, now move on in as positive a state of mind as you can. That’s Manny.

4. Manny plays baseball joyfully. Just about every little league coach in the land tells kids, “Have fun out there!” But do they really mean it? The truth is, it’s simply not O.K. in our U.S. athletic culture to appear to be having fun in certain game situations. Manny is happy all the time, whether the team is winning or losing, whether he’s just hit a grand slam or grounded into a double play, whether he’s benched or facing a 3-2 pitch in a clutch situation, whether the media is writing character-puncturing articles about him or cozying up to him for “being Manny.” As a coach, I really DO want my players to have fun playing baseball, and Manny’s a tremendous role model in this way.

5. Manny works hard in the off-season to get his body ready for spring training. He takes about ten days off after the season ends, then begins a strenuous workout regimen with one of the toughest trainers in the business. All good youth athletics coaches tell their players, “You want to get good? Work hard.” In 2007, The Boston Herald interviewed Seattle’s Raul Ibanez about his off-season workouts with Ramirez in Florida:

“In between sets, everything is timed, and he would always be reminding [me] to keep working. He works his tail off. I knew he was hard-working, but he exceeded my expectations. We would start at 10 and he was coming at 9 to do his workouts. He was working out an hour more. He influenced everybody to come in and work out earlier.”

Now is Manny a perfect role model for young baseball players? No. And neither am I, and neither are you. I would tell little leaguers, “Manny does some things badly, and some things exceptionally well. Let’s learn from what he does well.” Over the last decade, the closest MLB has come to a flawless role model has been Ironman Cal Ripken. Great leader, great worker, played hard, played hurt. But to create an ideal role model for young players, I’d want to combine Cal with Manny. Mix Cal’s determination and toughness with Manny’s jubilant, expectant frame of mind, and you have a powerful, positive role model.

My idea about what to DO with Manny (keep him, or trade him?): Pick up his option for 2009 and tell him we’re NOT picking it up for 2010. Get one more productive year out of him at $20M and ensure his self-motivation by guaranteeing him free agency in 2010. I love Manny and don’t want to lose him, but his age (and the physical decline that inevitably comes with age, unless you are Roger Clemens) worries me.

Professionals

I remember when I was a young boy, sometimes in the summer my father and I would walk down to the baseball field in Cleveland Circle to watch a men’s amateur league game. We’d stand right behind the backstop, and I vividly remember the terrifying velocity on those fastballs, and I can hear in my head the deafening wham of the ball smashing into catcher’s mitt, and I recall watching hitters barely flinch when a pitch went zinging by, and I remember the exact feeling I had watching all this. I thought, “These guys are so incredibly, inconceivably good. And they’re not even professionals.”Collings guitar

In my 20s, I actually played in that men’s amateur baseball league and enjoyed several good years pitching for Avi Nelson Club. But even the best players among us were not nearly good enough to play at the lowest levels of minor league baseball. There were no scouts at our games. We were all amateurs. Happy amateurs.

I was reminded of this amateur-professional idea last Wednesday night, when I had the good fortune to accompany my friend, songwriter Dan Page, on guitar and background vocals at his show in New York City. Dan is widely admired in music circles, and about fifteen of his musical friends (including the amazing Mark Nadler and many members of the extraordinary Sullivan family) came from all over the country to perform in this show, which featured Dan’s most enduring compositions. Dan asked me to back him up on two songs – the first two songs of the show – and, humbled and honored, I quickly agreed.

The thing is, I was the only amateur musician who participated. Everyone else that plugged into an amp or sang into a mike that night was a pro. And, my God, was I out of my league.

I played all the chords just fine, and I sang my harmony nicely. But I had prepared only for things to go exactly as we had rehearsed, and that’s rarely the way things go when the show is on. The order of verses can get switched without warning, the bridge can get skipped, the pause before the final chorus can get extended, etc. Pros handle these “invisible blunders” with grace and ease. I think they actually love it when things don’t go according to plan. I may have risen to the occasion last Wednesday night, but I sure didn’t feel like a pro when the surprises came along.

The bass player that night, Ritt Henn, was a true pro. He was reading the sheet music for all of these songs for the first time, on stage, and not only performing the songs flawlessly, but adding flourishes at just the right moments and rolling with all the “invisible blunders” of the guitarists, pianists, and vocalists with which he shared the stage – and doing it all with a big smile on his face. (I wrote to Ritt and referred to him as “the Derek Jeter of bass players,” and he wrote back, “Hey, wait a minute…you guys are Red Sox fans, right? Is that some kind of insult or something? (insert appropriate smiley faced icon here) Thanks for the kind words…it’s fun winging it, and it was a kick playing with all those different folks, and thank you (and the entire Red Sox Nation) for recognizing and admiring Mr. Jeter’s prowess…. y’know, the year you guys won, I was actually rooting for you.”)

Trot NixonPerforming with Ritt Henn and all those pros was like being asked to play right field for two innings of a Major League Baseball game. I thought, “I can catch a fly ball. I’ve done this a million times.” But in real games, easy flies are intermingled with screaming line drives in the gap, violently bad hops, jeering Yankee fans (see photo), and split-second decisions about which base to throw to. Pros react to these unpredictable challenges as though they expected them — because they’ve practiced for the unexpected their whole lives — and even in the most unusual situations, they execute flawlessly. A pro hits his tee shot into the sand on the 18th hole at Augusta National — and still saves par.

That’s what I learned last Wednesday night in New York. I may know how to play those chords and sing that harmony – I may know how to catch a fly ball – I may know how to drive a golf ball into the fairway – but I’m an amateur. A happy amateur. (Although it sure is fun to hang out with and learn from professionals…)

Never Say “I Could Have Done That”

Creative ideas.

Images of a different, better future.

We all have five or ten compelling ones every day. Sometimes they hit us in the shower. Sometimes while we’re driving. Sometimes when we’re sitting in a meeting oMJ on the Baronsr while talking with a friend. Sometimes they wake us up at 3 in the morning.

And I bet at least one idea we have per day is one that, if acted on, could make a quantum, dramatic difference in our lives or the lives of others. It’s one that could help define our lives and our purpose on this planet if we could execute it. If only these gem-like ideas could be highlighted for us, and we could be guided by a higher power to follow-through on them immediately….

Frequently, I see the work someone else has done – the book or song they wrote that I know I could have created as well, the product they invented that I had the concept for a few years ago, the eye-opening presentation they gave at the conference, the physical condition they’ve gotten themselves into and the accomplishments they’ve achieved because of this – and my impulse is to say, “Well, I had could have done that, too.”

But I didn’t, and that is all that really matters. I may have had the idea. I may have had the ability. I may have had the desire and even the intention. But all the credit goes to the one who takes the idea and, at the very least, strives to forge it into a real thing, a real accomplishment, a real victory, a real process, a real piece of art, a real conversation, a real relationship, a real habit, a real action.

The line between “having an idea” and “executing an idea” is thin – and yet the difference in value between the two is infinite. An idea or goal that stays in your head is as good as an idea or goal that never existed.

I love the example of Michael Jordan’s short baseball career for two reasons:

1. Michael says he always dreamed of being a major league baseball player and believed he could compete at the highest levels in that sport. Most of us forget that he retired from the NBA as reigning MVP in order to follow through on this dream and start a new career in baseball. Is there a better example of never saying, ‘I could have done that?’ That was one of the most inspiring career leaps I’ve ever seen.

2. M.J. never made it to the majors, but you won’t hear Michael say, “I could have done that,” while watching David Ortiz or Ichiro Suzuki hit a 97-mph tailing fastball for a game-winning hit. He tested out his idea and learned that baseball was much harder than he imagined. But, at least with regard to this single idea, Michael can sleep at night knowing he didn’t let it die in his head.

Then there’s my sister-in-law, Christina Harding. She heard about the Antarctica Marathon a couple of years ago and said to herself, “I never want to just say, ‘I could have done that.’ Therefore, I must do it.” Last week, she competed in the Antarctica Marathon. Like Michael Jordan, she can now say, “I followed through on my idea.” Unlike Michael Jordan, Christina can also say, “And I reached the pinnacle.” Because she won, defeating all other female entrants in the race and passing two competitors in the race’s final two miles of glacier-covered terrain. Incredible.

I have learned to never say, ‘I could have done that.’ Because I didn’t.

Swamped+Exhausted=Happy

climbing cliffI am swamped. Work. Family. Volunteer work. Creative projects. It’s a feeling of overwhelm that keeps me awake at night. There’s a fear that originates somewhere in my large intestine that whispers, “You can’t get it all done in a ‘good enough’ way – you can’t be everything to everyone you’ve committed to.” This is a level of busyness that can squeeze exercise, sleep, good eating, and thinking time right out of my life – for a period.

But I chose this. This is what I signed up for. Would I change my situation at work? No. We’re talking exciting, challenging projects with smart, interesting, talented people. Would I change my family situation? Are you kidding? I am blessed and my family is my greatest joy by far. Would I change my volunteer commitments? No way, I’m involved with great people at great organizations making a one-of-a-kind impact. Would I dump my creative projects? Well, these would be the easiest things to clear off my plate, but creative projects are the icing on the cake. Do I really want to scrape the icing off my cake? No.

The truth is, this feeling of overwhelm and exhaustion is a pure form of happiness. Winning the lottery wouldn’t hold a candle to this state of challenge, usefulness, connectivity, creativity, synergy, and struggle. This is what we live for. I’m in the middle of the soccer field with the ball rifling towards me and other players yelling my name. The game is on, baby.

The Origins of Expertise

boy practicing tennisWe can all point to clear evidence showing that elite performers – in all areas – possess innate strengths that give them an edge over the rest of the crowd. For example, Shaquille O’Neal’s body gives him an edge in professional basketball, and composers such as Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven obviously had musical talents that set them apart from generations of artists. But is “talent” really the core ingredient of expertise and elite performance?

An interview entitled, The Expert on Experts, from Fast Company’s November 2006 issue, illuminates “expertise” in a different light, and suggests that my examples above are extreme exceptions to the typical evolution of expertise. The interview’s subject is K. Anders Ericsson, professor of psychology at Florida State University and author of the 918-page Cambridge Handbook of Expertise and Expert Performance. Ericsson says:

“With the exception of some sports, no characteristic of the brain or body constrains an individual from reaching an expert level….Elite performers aren’t genetically superior. They spontaneously do things differently from those individuals who stagnate. They have different practice histories. Elite performers engage in what we call deliberate practice – an effortful activity designed to improve target performance….. In general, elite performers utilize some technique that isn’t well known or widely practiced.”

I was recently reminded of this Fast Company article when reading Brad Gilbert’s book, I’ve Got Your Back: Coaching Top Performers from Center Court to the Corner Office. Gilbert is a former top-ten tennis pro who later coached #1 players, Andre Agassi and Andy Roddick. As a youngster, Gilbert was always a good player but he never stood out as a future star. He received a tennis scholarship to a junior college, eventually transferred to Pepperdine University, joined the ATP tour, and slowly worked his way from #180 in the world to his peak ranking of #4.

It was this paragraph from Gilbert’s book that struck me:

“I guess a couple of things made me different from other up-and-comers on the tour. Sure, I had resilience and foot speed. But other guys had those traits. What set me apart, maybe, was my eye for the game, my memory of how people played it, and my drive to pay attention. Almost every other guy on the tour, when he was finished with his match, couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there – to go back to the hotel room to watch TV, or go pound a few beers. Call me nutty (and a few people did), but I loved to hang out at the venue: watching matches or practice, shooting the breeze with guys in the locker room or training area. And whenever I was watching tennis, I was taking notes. I kept a little black book on every guy I played, and every guy I saw playing…. if you know the other guy’s weaknesses, you have a huge leg up.”

Later in the book, when Gilbert explains how he helped Andre Agassi improve from a #30 world-ranking to #1, the “black book” technique is featured once again.

Steven D. Leavitt and Stephen J. Dubner (authors of the interesting book, Freakonomics) wrote this about Ericsson’s expertise book in The New York Times Magazine:

The Cambridge Handbook of Expertise and Expert Performance makes a rather startling assertion: the trait we commonly call talent is highly overrated. Or, put another way, expert performers – whether in memory or surgery, ballet or computer programming – are nearly always made, not born. And yes, practice does make perfect.”

I find it amazing – and thrilling – that good performers can become elite performers through “deliberate practice” and “utilizing some technique that isn’t widely known or widely practiced.” And I find it fascinating that, since natural talent isn’t the central reason for superior performance and any of us can become an elite performer in an area that deeply interests us, we aren’t all among the “elite” in something.

Clearly, everyone has a choice: to become an expert or elite performer in an area of our choosing, or to be a generalist. (And while “generalist” implies mediocrity and dulled impact, we can always turn to Benjamin Franklin and Babe Didrikson Zaharias, two “expert generalists,” for stunning counter examples…)

In Pursuit Of The Zone

“When am I in the zone, and how will I double the time I spend in the zone in the next 12 months?”

Entrepreneur and author Raj Setty has been publishing “Quoughts of the Day” on his blog since late December, 2006. (A “quought” is a question that provokes thought.) Back on January 13, I wrote about Raj’s excellent “quoughts” series and suggested three quoughts of my own. Since then, Raj and I have become acquainted via email, and today he has published my quought at LifeBeyondCodeBlog.

I’m a big fan of “being in the zone.” I believe we all do our best work when we’re in the zone. Almost all really, really great work is produced by people in the zone. Entrepreneurs. Athletes. Teachers. Writers. Doctors. Salespeople. Musicians. Architects. Chefs. Gardeners. Artists. Preachers. Mothers. Fathers. Students. CEOs. Auto Mechanics. The elite ones get “locked-in” when they’re practicing their craft.

I believe we need to spend at least a few hours every day in the zone, or we’re depriving the world (and ourselves) of our most valuable stuff. I worry about people I love who don’t appear to spend any time in the zone during the day.

Christian LaettnerWhen in your lifetime, including when you were a kid, do you remember being in the zone? (If you’re Christian Laettner (left), you remember being in the zone on the night you took this shot, with 0.2 seconds left, after catching an 80-foot pass from Grant Hill, to win the 1992 East Regional NCAA Tournament game in overtime against Kentucky, 103-102. Laettner was 10 for 10 from the floor, and 10 for 10 on free throws in this game. That’s some serious zoneage. The story of this game is here.)

Can you pepper your schedule next week – and for the rest of your life – with more “zone-time?”

“Work is my obsession but it is also my devotion…. Absorbedness is the paradise of work.” — Donald Hall, poet and essayist

The Cost of Praising Intelligence

It’s common sense that a good parent should frequently seize opportunities to tell his/her children that they are “smart,” isn’t it?

Not so fast.

Po Bronsoncub scout has written a fascinating article in New York Magazine, entitled, How Not To Talk To Your Kids: The Inverse Power of Praise. The article describes a recent study of 400 New York City fifth graders that shows that children who are repeatedly told they are “smart” shy away from challenges where there’s even a slight risk they might not succeed. On the other hand, kids who are consistently praised for their hard work or effort are more self-confident, more inclined to seek out challenging projects despite the possibility of failure, and less inhibited by concerns about how their work will be “graded” in the end.

Carol Dweck, the psychologist who led the study, writes, “When we praise children for their intelligence, we tell them that this is the name of the game: look smart, don’t risk making mistakes.” She continues, “Emphasizing effort gives children a variable that they can control. They come to see themselves as in control of their success. Emphasizing natural intelligence takes it out of the child’s control, and it provides no good recipe for responding to a failure.”

It turns out that teaching kids that their innate intelligence is the key to their success actually sends a damaging message to them by diminishing the importance of effort – which is, in fact, the ONLY thing over which they have any control!

Clearly, this study is hugely important for all parents, teachers, and coaches. And it reminds me of two baseball t-shirts my oldest son owns. One says, “Just give me the ball and let me do the rest.” The other t-shirt says, “Champions are made in the off-season.” One motto emphasizes ability, the other practice and effort.

I never did like that “give me the ball” t-shirt, with its arrogant, anti-teamwork, talent-focused slogan. And now that I’ve read about the impact of highlighting effort,  I love that “champions” t-shirt all the more!

(By the way, the cub scout in that photo is not my son – I actually have no idea who that is.)

Rules vs. Results

We were all trained as children to “follow the rules.” But should our teachers have taught us how to decide when to break the rules? (Yes.)

Heike Bruch and Sumantra Ghoshal spent years studying managers and seeking out the habits and characteristics that separate “purposeful managers” (only 10% of all of them) from the frenzied, dTiger Woodsetached, and procrastinators. Their findings are collected in A Bias For Action (2004).

One of their most interesting insights is that successful managers know when to “break the rules” to reach critical organizational goals.

They write:
“Purposeful managers take an active stance when it comes to formal regulations and informal rules developed through cultural norms, habits, and shared expectations. Not only do they question rules that they deem outdated or inappropriate, but they also break or circumvent the rules when it’s absolutely necessary for achieving their goals.”

Sometimes, we need to ask ourselves, “Am I getting paid to do things the way my boss and her boss would like me to do them, or am I getting paid to give my boss and her boss the results they want to see?” Bruch and Ghoshal’s research reveals that the most successful 10% of managers prioritize results over following protocol.

What rule – either formal or informal – are you letting stand in the way of your optimum performance?

Are You Measuring The Right Things?

Wrigley’s fenceSeth Godin describes an example today on his blog that shows that “just because you can measure it doesn’t mean it’s important.” It reminded me of a great book about measurements – indeed, one of the best non-fiction books I’ve ever read.

Have any of you read Michael Lewis’s book, Moneyball: The Art of Winning An Unfair Game? (Even if you couldn’t care less about sports, you’ll enjoy this book.) It’s a fascinating story that provides a perfect example of how “knowing what to measure” can have a dramatic impact on an organization’s results.

A few years ago, the general manager of the Oakland A’s, Billy Beane, set out with some MIT stat geeks to figure out what player statistics correlate most closely to “scoring runs.” What they discovered enabled them to compete on a different level in the game of selecting players. While every other team pursued players with high “batting averages” and “home run totals,” the A’s had figured out that these stats weren’t actually the most important when seeking players who would help you WIN (which is, of course, the ultimate goal).

They learned that “high on-base percentage” and “high slugging percentage” were the statistical qualities that contributed most to winning games — and that many of the players with the best stats in these areas were either overlooked by other teams (who had their eye on the wrong measurements), or undervalued in terms of salary. So, on one of the smallest budgets in all of baseball, the A’s put together a team that competed for the World Championship several years in a row.

How’d they do it? They asked the right questions, did some analysis, and figured out the right things to measure to identify players who could help them achieve their ultimate goal of winning – then they adjusted their game plan accordingly.

What if you could engineer a surge in your results in your own field, similar to the A’s surge in victories, by starting to measure the right things?

Sustaining “Pure” Self-Confidence

My most recent article over at Lifehack.org tells about the “life list” my 7 year-old son has been composing over the last couple of months – on his own. I stumbled across his list about a week ago (modeled after John Goddard’s life list), and it has led me to ponder the question, “What difference do goals make, anyway?”

I recall hearing a terrific quotation from David Allen about goals. He said: “The value of goals is not the future they describe, but the change in perception of reality they foster, and the change in performance they effect right now, inside of you.”

hell freezes over(Re-read that quotation… it’s a great one.)

I love that my son believes that anything he can dream is possible. I love that that’s his reality. (“It’s not over, Daddy,” he says frequently, when watching a sports event whose outcome seems obvious. “Anything can happen.”) His life list reflects his expectation that he will eventually fulfill his loftiest aspirations (whether this is accurate or not is irrelevant) and if David Allen’s quotation is accurate, today and tomorrow he’ll “perform” with the pure self-confidence that fuels all great lives.

My challenge as his parent is this: How can I help him sustain his self-confidence, optimism, and possibility-thinking and carry it into adolescence and adulthood?

(To read my original article, My 7 Year-Old Son’s Life Listclick here.)

Who Are Your Most Beloved Athletes?

Writing abodoug flutieut how great athletes talk to themselves got me thinking about my favorite athletes of all-time. Four of the individuals on my distinguished list rise above the rest because of the place they hold in my heart, and because of the influence they had on me as a teenager and young adult. And, looking at the quartet, I am struck by the similarities between the three and the common characteristics they taught me to admire and emulate. The magic foursome is: Doug Flutie, Larry Bird, Jim Barton, and Nomar Garciaparra.

Doug Flutie. I was sixteen in 1984 when he threw the hail mary pass to Gerard Phelan to lead Boston College to victory over University of Miami. His 21-year pro career was just like his college clarry birdareer: he was smaller than every other NFL quarterback, but he found ways to win, time after time. And he never did it the same way twice – he was the king of improv.

Larry Bird. I was 17 that spring the Celtics beat the Lakers in the NBA Finals (1986). My dad always used to say, “Remember Larry, because you won’t see anyone like him the rest of your life.” It’s not Larry’s clutch shots and passes I remember first, it’s his hustle, diving to the floor to grab control of a loose ball, slamming his chin on the court. Larry was a warrior.

Jim Barton, Dartmouth basketballJim Barton. Jim was a star basketball player at Dartmouth College in the late 1980s when I was a student there. He could catch a pass and get off a shot in one instantaneous motion — and it always went in. His heroics made me lose my voice every game. He was among the nation’s scoring leaders, and at the time, I had never witnessed a more electric athlete in person.

Nomar. As a member of the Red Sox, his love for playing baseball was obvious, and even though he was an Nomar Garciaparra t-shirtall-star, he was humble and appreciated his success. He seemed to be hustling every minute of the game, even in the dugout (mentally). He was my first son’s first favorite Sox player, which has cemented him among my top-four favorite athletes. At the age of 5, he cried when Nomar was traded to the Cubs. He still wears his Red Sox-Nomar shirt, as well as his Cubs-Nomar shirt, and at the time Nomar signed his glove, it was probably the greatest moment of his young life.

Nice list, but why does it matter?

These great athletes were also great teachers of mine. Through countless emotionally-charged athletic performances, they helped develop my world view: the belief that anything can happen if you can imagine it; that the game isn’t over until it’s over, so you must never quit; that calm, confident focus can tame the highest-pressure moments; that spectacular results hurtle towards us when we’re “in the zone;” that the team’s goal of winning supercedes individual accomplishments; and that there is nobility in playing hurt and hustling on every play.

Who are your most beloved athletes, and how have they helped shape your world view?

What if Muhammad Ali Believed He Would Fail?

Ali pounds ListonI recently posted an article over at Lifehack.org about the motivational potency of reminding myself, “Not exercising is like taking a brain damage pill.”

This got me thinking about the importance of how we talk to ourselves inside our own heads. Don’t think it’s that big a deal? Consider this question:

How would the history of sports be different if Martina Navratilova, Jack Nicklaus, Muhammad Ali, Joe Montana, Nadia Comaneci, David Ortiz, and Michael Jordan all had the habit of thinking to themselves, “You’re going to choke – you can’t do it – here comes disaster!” just prior to the most critical moments in their athletic careers?

An absurd notion, I know — which underscores the fundamental power of the words we use (and don’t use) in our heads, every moment of every day.

Return on Relationship

Present and Future CustomersI love equations that explain seemingly complicated ideas in simple ways. Here’s one I stumbled upon a few years ago in Return on Customer, by Don Peppers and Martha Rogers, that has crystallized the way I think about customer relationships (and non-profits’ relationships with their philanthropic supporters). It’s ingenious because it balances the priority of maximizing current-year cash flows with the priority of replenishing customer equity for the future.

Return on Customer/Donor Relationship = [(Cash Flow in Year 1) + (Change in Customer’s Lifetime Value in Year 1)] divided by (Customer’s Lifetime Value at Start of Year 1)

The concept here that is too often ignored is “Lifetime Value.” A customer or donor is more than just a person who provides revenues during the current year. He/she also goes up and down in lifetime value to the organization.

As Peppers and Rogers write, “When a customer has a good (or bad) experience with a company and decides on the basis of that experience to give more future business to it (or less), the firm has gained (or lost) value at that very instant, with the customer’s change of mind. It doesn’t matter that the extra business a customer might give a company won’t happen for a few months or even a few years – the customer’s intent has changed already, and so the customer’s lifetime value went up (or down) immediately, in the same way a share price would go up imnmediately if the company were suddenly expecting better profits sometime in the future.”

Imagine how companies and non-profits would behave differently if they knew the future value to the organization they were destroying through some of their aggressive strategies for short-term revenue! And imagine how staff would behave differently if they were measured on their performance in maximizing “Return on Customer Relationship” for their organization’s most high-potential customers!

(I’ll be presenting on this topic this Sunday, at the annual CASE/NAIS Conference in Philadelphia. Where it is currently very cold. Why couldn’t they have held this conference in Florida?)

What if We Were Starting From Scratch?

building a wallAnother compelling way to think about investing your “100 marbles” is to ask, “If we were starting this company (or rock band, or non-profit, or department, or marriage) from scratch, how would we build it?”

This question is markedly different from the question, “How would we change our marble allocation to improve results?” The starting from scratch question offers the metaphor of a clean slate – a blank page – a new beginning.

It forces us reexamine the questions, “What’s the point of our company (or non-profit, etc.) anyway? What are we trying to accomplish? And what are the proven, leading-edge methods for accomplishing this?” Rather than thinking about merely adjusting current strategy, staffing, and spending (which implies incremental improvement), the starting from scratch question liberates us to choose an entirely different tack – or an entirely different goal.

Thinking about adjustments tethers us to the current reality (“Add a part-time staff member; Spend 30 more minutes per day talking with customers; Increase the marketing budget”). But talking about starting from scratch unhinges us from the current budget, the current staffing model, and all of our current routines. We can ask, “How would we staff our organization to achieve optimum results?” and “What kinds of people would we hire?” and “What would these people spend most of their time doing?”

And the answers might require us not to simply “add a sax player,” but to fire everybody in the band and hire new musicians — at least one of whom can drive the band’s bus to out-of-town gigs…

(note: You can read my original “100 Marbles” article at Lifehack.org by clicking here)

How Would You Put Your Own Company Out Of Business?

Anotheroyal theater, closedr way to think about the 100 Marbles metaphor comes from Getting Things Done author, David Allen: “If you were to quit your job and go out and start a company that would put yours out of business, what would you do differently in your new company?”

Pausing to think about this hypothetical situation reveals giant opportunities for improvement. By looking at our company (or non-profit, or department, or team, or marriage!) through the eyes of an imaginary, cut-throat competitor who knows our operations inside and out, we’re suddenly able to name our areas of greatest weakness and vulnerability. Miraculously, the steps required to take a quantum leap become obvious. And we realize that not reallocating our “100 marbles” to respond to the savviest competitor imaginable is sheer, self-sabotaging insanity.

(note: You can read my original “100 Marbles” article at Lifehack.org by clicking here)

The Threat of Mediocrity

elegant restaurantA couple of years ago, I attended a panel discussion where five philanthropists talked about how they make giving decisions. One philanthropist spoke passionately about a school he supports that truly “wows” him every year in the way they thank him and show him the impact of his gifts. His relationship with them has been memorable, meaningful, and exhilarating. Someone in the mcdsaudience asked this philanthropist, “How does the way that the school reaches out to you affect the way you feel about the other non-profits you support?” I will always remember the philanthropist’s response: “Have you ever dined at a restaurant where the food, the atmosphere, and the service were simply amazing? [“Yes.”] How did that experience make you feel about McDonald’s?”

100 Marbles and The Time Log

marblesAs I wrote in an article over at Lifehack.org, there’s a game we’re all playing, like it or not. It’s called 100 Marbles, and you win by allocating your “marbles” (units of time, attention, effort, and energy) in new ways to achieve more out of life than if you were to maintain your current marble allocation. It sounds simple: invest your marbles thoughtfully, improve your results.

But before you can even try to win this game, you need to know how you’re investing your marbles now. Ironically, most of us have no idea how we allocated our time, attention, effort, and energy over the last month. Even though you were there for every minute of it, you would probably be amazed to learn the actual, exact allocation of your 100 marbles during this time.

The only way to truly know how you’re investing your marbles is to keep a time log. I was persuaded to try a time log by three superb books that make strong cases for it: 1) The Effective Executive, by Peter Drucker (1966); 2) How I Raised Myself From Failure To Success In Selling, by Frank Bettger (1947); and 3) The Critical Path To Sales Success, by Frank Sullivan (1970).

I have kept a time log for 1-2 week periods about six times over the last few years, and each time, the results have been eye-opening and enlightening. Just the act of keeping a time log radically increases my awareness, from moment to moment, of what I’m focusing on – and what I’m not focusing on. It’s like having a mini coach sitting on my shoulder, with a stopwatch in one hand and a clipboard in the other, watching everything I do. Wasted time becomes more intolerable and painful, and long stretches of uninterrupted time on important projects and pursuits become the Holy Grail of productivity.

Peter Drucker writes: “Effective executives start by finding out out where their time actually goes. The analysis of time, moreover, is the one easily accessible and yet systematic way to analyze one’s own work and to think through what really matters in it.”

So before you reallocate your 100 marbles, investigate how your marbles are currently invested. Then, be strategic, thoughtful, and deliberate about allocating your marbles to the things that “really matter.”

(note: You can read my original “100 Marbles” article at Lifehack.org by clicking here)

The ONE Question to Ask Yourself

compass on mapOne of the greatest blog posts I’ve seen comes from Rajesh Setty’s Life Beyond Code. If you haven’t seen his “Quoughts” series (Quought = Question that provokes thought), you must check it out. Rajesh asked several influential thinkers, “What is the ONE important question a person should ask himself or herself in 2007?”

The questions he received are big doozies – the kind that unhinge us from our comfort zones and help us see our lives through a new lens. Here are a few samples:

“How can I be the person that I hope my children become?” (Harry Beckwith)

“What do I have to do to earn and deserve the key relationships that are going to get me where I want to go?” (David Meister)

“How can I help others attain a level of success greater than my own?” (Mike Sansone)

“What is the question whose answer would set me free?” (Peter Block)

“What do I care about enough to defend in conversation with people I respect?” (John Battelle)

“What would I do differently in 2007 if I had no fear?” (Steve Pavlina)

And here are a few quoughts I’d have shared with Rajesh if he’d asked me:

“When am I in the zone, and how will I double the time I spend in the zone in 2007?

“On January 1, 2008, what habit or routine will I wish I had established in 2007?”

“What project can I start working on now that could, conceivably, lead to my next career?” (A good question to ask even if you love your current career.)

Work-Life Balance: The Window Looking West

window overlooking oceanThe best train ride I’ve ever taken was May 17, 2002, from Boston to Philadelphia. I know this because that’s the date I wrote on the inside cover of Magical Worlds of the Wizard of Ads: Tools and Techniques for Profitable Persuasion, by Roy H. Williams – the book that mesmerized me for the entire trip. Perusing the book again last night, I came across a note I wrote in the margin on page 136: “The best advice on work-life balance I’ve ever read.” I’d like to share with you a shortened version of this classic, two-page essay, entitled, Look Out The Other Window. The entirety of what follows is in Roy Williams’ words.

“How do you leave all the cares of the office at the office?” my good friend Akintunde asked. “I’ve never been able to do it.”

Pointing to the east, I said, “Look out that window and tell me what you see.” Akintunde looked intently out the window and described in detail what he saw there. “Now look out this window,” I said, pointing to the west, “and tell me what you see.” Akintunde spent the next several moments describing an entirely different scene. I said, “That’s how I do it.”

When he said he didn’t understand, I pointed to a bare wall and said, “Tell me what you see.”

Akintunde said, “I see nothing but a blank wall.”

“Keep looking,” I told him. After a minute of watching him stare silently at the wall, I asked, “Are you thinking about what you saw out the window?”

“Yes, I am,” he laughed. “How did you know?”

“Akintunde,” I said, “if you will pour yourself into something that will occupy your evenings and weekends as completely as your job occupies your nine to five, you’ll find that you will soon be feeling less tired, less frustrated, and less stressed out about what’s happening at the office. The reason you can’t quit thinking about the office is because you’re going home each night and staring at the wall.”

Like most people, our friend Akintunde had been confusing rest with idleness. Rest is not idleness. Rest is simply looking out a different window. If you have a job, or anything else that you struggle with and worry about, you have a window that looks to the east.

But do you have one that looks to the west?

It’s not, “What do people think of you?”

I want to share with you the most powerful idea about human relationships that I’ve ever heard. It’s in the form of a question, and it’s from an essay by Harvard Business School professor, Thomas J. DeLong, in Remember Who You Are (2004). Here it is: “How do people experience themselves when they are with you?”

Imagine if, in our daily interactions with others, we succeeded in giving people a better experience of thegrandfather swinging grandsonmselves than at any other time during the day. 

This seems like an outrageously ambitious goal to set. But in practice, it doesn’t take much to achieve. Be excited to see other people. Look them in the eye. Smile with your whole body. Call them by name, and ask how they’re doing. When people ask how you’re doing, tell them, “Excellent!” Take an interest in others’ lives. Listen to their stories, and laugh. Keep conversation focused on them, not on you. By God, tell them how great they are!

How does your spouse or significant other experience him/herself when you walk through that door after a tiring day at work? Loved and appreciated? Or deflated? How does your child experience him/herself when he/she is with you? Are you more interested in watching the TV news than you are in hearing about his day at school?

Starting now, start to notice the “invisible” people in your daily life (such as administrative assistants, maintenance staff, fast-food order takers, security workers, and customer service phone reps) and deactivate their invisibility by asking a question, complimenting their work, saying a heartfelt thank you. Rid yourself of your hierarchical lenses and see others as equal to you – because they are! There’s something magical about giving someone a high-five and uttering their name with gusto as you walk by them in the hall. Try it!

DeLong prods, “What transpires inside people when you are talking to them? What are they thinking and feeling? In what way, however small, has their perception of themselves changed as a result of having the interaction?”

When we slow down and even go out of our way to make others feel unique, interesting, talented, or important, we are truly “making their day.” For that shining moment, their experience of themselves is ideal. (And, ironically, our experience of ourselves is idealized, too.)

8 Secrets of a Time Revolutionary

I am married and have four small children. My wife works full-time during the week, and so do I. My job keeps me busy from Monday through Friday, from about 8am to 6pm (which is not enough time to accomplish all I want to accomplish at work), and my weekends are devoted entirely to my kids. Taking a cue from Richard Koch’s book, The 80/20 Principle, I have become a “time revolutionary” in order to fit into my life everything I want to fit in, while remaining a visible and involved parent and a visible and involved manager at the office. Here are some of the time principles I have found useful:

1. Commit to being home when your children are getting ready for bed – at least five days per week. Say “no” to commitments that would keep you away from your children at bedtime. Tell others this is why you can’t commit – they will understand and they will admire you for taking this stand. Be there when they brush their teeth; read them a book before turning off the light. These days, just being there for your kids at these sacred times is truly revolutionary!

2. Three or four times per year, take a day off from work and take your child out of school for a day, and do whatever your child wants to do. Go to a museum. Go out to a pizza place for lunch. Play baseball at the local playground. Go to a bookstore and buy him/her a few books of his/her choosing. Go to the top of the tallest building in your city. Spend focused time with your children (or loved ones). Even a half-day off from work is worthwhile and meaningful. My strongest childhood memories of my father are the days he took off from work to spend with me, including Opening Day at Fenway Park every April.

3. During the work week, if it’s at all possible, schedule a lunch date with your spouse. We always think our dates need to be in the evenings – but sometimes lunch is just more do-able, and the bonus is you’re more alert at lunch than at dinner.

4. Wake up early. Very early. 4:30am or 5:00am. Get your exercise in early. Or peaceful newspaper-reading. Plan the day ahead.

5. Make a list of all of your commitments and activities that take at least ½ hour of your time each week. Select three of them that you simply don’t enjoy, or that give you the least return on your investment. In the next 48 hours, make a call to remove yourself from those three commitments. You will experience a double-whammy of time revolution – ridding yourself of undesirable commitments that suck away your time and your energy, and freeing up time and energy for things that do matter to you. Marcus Buckingham, in his book, The One Thing You Need To Know, asserts that the key to personal effectiveness is to “Find out what you don’t like doing and stop doing it.” I think he has nailed it.

6. Say “no, thanks” to every offer that requires a major commitment of your time, until you’ve had at least a few days to think about it. And don’t add unless you subtract – if you add a new commitment to your life, be disciplined about subtracting one at the same time. I once attended a week-long seminar with accomplished entrepreneurs (I was a guest) and on the first day, they were asked by the instructor, “What would you most like to learn?” and the most frequent response was, “How to say no.”

7. Work at home (or in the local public library) one day a week, or two half-days per week. It’s amazing how being out of your office, away from typical interruptions and distractions, fosters focus and perspective that promotes creativity, new ideas, and productivity.

8. Get creative in your use of weekends. Reserve two hours on Saturday, and two hours on Sunday, to focus, uninterrupted, on an important project. Schedule it, protect it from others’ demands, and work on it in an environment that will be conducive to productivity. I like 5:30-8:00am at the Starbucks about a mile from my home. When I get home, my family hasn’t missed me much because they’ve been sleeping while I’ve been gone, and I’ve already gotten more done than I will the rest of the day.

Jack Kent Cooke’s letter to me about “success”

jack kent cookeIn 1993, as a 25 year-old middle school teacher, I wrote a letter to every owner of every major sports franchise (hockey, basketball, baseball, football) along with every MLB general manager, introducing myself and asking for advice on “how to be successful.” At the time, I aspired to own a team or become an MLB general manager.

 

I received about ten personalized letters or phone calls in return, including great letters from Daniel Rooney, president of the Steelers (“Since the Steelers were founded by my father in 1933, I happened to have an “in” with the owner”), John Schuerholz, GM of the Atlanta Braves (“I am somewhat dismayed that a person with the amount of passion you display for teaching and the great rewards it offers might be motivated to leave that great profession for other pursuits”), and kind and supportive calls from Bob Watson (then-GM of the Houston Astros) and Bob Harlan (Chairman and CEO of the Green Bay Packers). But the big daddy of all responses came from Jack Kent Cooke (1912-1997) (pictured above), the former owner of the Los Angeles Lakers and Washington Redskins.

 

His letter is one of the best – if not THE best letter – I have ever received. I wish you could hold it in your hands – the ivory-colored stationery itself is truly awesome, with an old-time Redskins helment at the top and ‘The Redskins’ in snazzy red letters. At the bottom of the stationery are Super Bowl banners: “Super Bowl XVII Champions – Super Bowl XXII Champions – Super Bowl XXVI Champions,” and at the end of the letter is Mr. Cooke’s elegant John Hancock, signed with his own pen. I’ll share the letter in its entirety here, in its exact original format; it’s the kind of letter that would be sinful to keep to myself:

 

December 2, 1993

 

Dear Mr. Crawford

 

Thank you for your pleasant letter of November 27th, which I received today. I regret that I cannot come up with an easy, simple recipe for success since I believe there’s not a surefire method of reaching the top. But for starters I believe that humanity is divided into three parts:

 

a) Those who make things happen, b) Those who watch things happen, and c) Those who don’t know what’s happening.

 

In the course of my life I’ve run across maxims which seem to relate to success. But don’t forget that success frequently is a state of mind rather than a material pinnacle. So, here are a few of those thoughts I have found helpful:

 

Glory

Robert Burns: “A man’s reach should exceed his grasp or what’s a heaven for.”

Dizzy Dean: “It ain’t braggin’ if ya done it.”

 

Courage

John Dryden: “I am a little hurt but I am not slain and I will lay me down for to bleed a while then I’ll rise and fight with you again.”

 

Luck

Branch Rickey: “Luck is the residue of the design.”

Lord Thomson of Fleet: “Funny thing, the harder I work the luckier I get.”

Eubie Blake: “Be grateful for luck. Pay the thunder no mind – listen to the birds. And don’t hate nobody.”

Louis Pasteur: “Fortune smiles on the man who is prepared.”

 

Practices vs. Theory

Anonymous: “Some Greeks had been sitting on a wall for over a week theorizing which would fall first, a feather or a pellet of lead of the same weight. A Roman came along, listened a few minutes and said, ‘For God’s sake, drop them and find out’.”

 

Preparedness

Admiral Horatio Nelson: Said he owed his success to “Being there five minutes ahead of the other chaps.”

 

Intuition

The Bible: “That which is essential cannot be seen with the eye. Only with the heart can one know it rightly.”

 

The Future

Shakespeare: “Things without all remedy should be without regard. What’s done is done.”

 

Determination

Churchill: a) “It’s no use saying, ‘We are doing our best.’ You have got to succeed in doing what is necessary.” b) “Never talk monkey when the organ grinder is in the room.”

Henley: “Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pitch from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be, For my unconquerable soul.”

 

Energy

Anonymous: “Enthusiasm is akin to genius.”

 

Age

Satchel Paige: “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?” b) “Age is a matter of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.”

 

All The Rules Rolled Into One

Satchel Paige: a) “Avoid fried meats which angry up the blood.” b) “Avoid running at all times. Don’t look back. Something might be gaining on you.”

Carl Rowan: “Every sickness ain’t death, and every goodbye ain’t gone.”

T.S. Eliot: a) “Humility is the most difficult of all virtues to achieve.” b) “Nothing dies harder than the desire to think well of oneself.”

 

I can only add that it has always seemed to me that if you want something more than anyone else in the world wants it, and that if you’re willing to exercise the utmost intelligence and industry to get it, it will be yours.

 

Best wishes for success.

 

Yours very truly

 

Jack Kent Cooke (personally signed, with the flair of a king)

 

(Now, do you see what I mean about it being one of the best letters of all time? I have repeated Mr. Cooke’s philosophy on the three parts of humanity, and his final sentence about wanting something more than anyone else, many times to many people. Now, I have finally shared it with everyone else in the world.)

The War of Art – Turning Pro

The second section in The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield, exposes all of us artists (well, almost all of us) for what we really are – amateurs – and explains the simple but profound differences between an “amateur” and a “professional.” These are the terms Pressfield uses to label dabbling hobbyists vs. dedicated, focused, disciplined craftsmen. (Nomar Garciaparra, by the way, is one of my favorite pros. A hard-working dude who’s an artist with the bat and glove.) I can’t resist sharing a few excerpts:

“The amateur is a weekend warrior. The professional is there seven days a week. …The professional loves [his game] so much, he commits his life to it…. Resistance hates it when we turn pro.”

“Do I really believe that my work is crucial to the planet’s survival? Of course not. But it’s as important to me as catching that mouse is to the hawk circling outside my window. He’s hungry. He needs a kill. So do I.”

“The payoff of playing-the-game-for-money is not the money (which you may never see anyway, even after you turn pro). The payoff is that playing the game for money produces the proper professional attitude. It inculcates the lunch-pail mentality, the hard-core, hard-head, hard-hat state of mind that shows up for work despite rain or snow or dark of night and slugs it out day after day.”

“The pro understands that all creative endeavor is holy, but she doesn’t dwell on it…. She concentrates on technique. The professional masters how, and leaves what and why to the gods…. The sign of the amateur is overglorification of and preoccupation with the mystery. The professional shuts up. She doesn’t talk about it. She does her work.”

“The professional conducts his business in the real world. Adversity, injustice, bad hops and rotten calls, even good breaks and lucky bounces all comprise the ground over which the campaign must be waged. The field is level, the professional understands, only in heaven.”

“The professional is prepared, each day, to confront his own self-sabotage. He understands that Resistance is fertile and ingenious. It will throw stuff at him that he’s never seen before. ….His goal is not victory (success will come by itself when it wants to) but to handle himself, his insides, as sturdily and steadily as he can.”

“The professional cannot take rejection personally because to do so reinforces Resistance. Editors are not the enemy; critics are not the enemy. Resistance is the enemy. The battle is inside our own heads. We cannot let external criticism, even if it’s true, fortify our internal foe….. The Bhagavad Gita tells us we have a right only to our labor, not to the fruits of our labor. All the warrior can give is his life; all the athlete can do is leave everything on the field….. The professional gives an ear to criticism, seeking to learn and grow. But she never forgets that Resistance is using criticism against her on a far more diabolical level.”

“An amateur lets the negative opinion of others unman him. He takes external criticism to heart, allowing it to trump his own belief in himself and his work. Resistance loves this.”

“The professional cannot allow the actions of others to define his reality. Tomorrow morning the critic will be gone, but the writer will still be there facing the blank page. Nothing matters but that he keep working…..The professional blows off critics. He doesn’t even hear them.”

“The professional endures adversity. He lets the birdcrap splash down on his slicker, remembering that it comes clean with a heavy-duty hosing. He himself, his creative center, cannot be buried, even beneath a mountain of guano. His core is bulletproof. Nothing can touch it unless he lets it.”

“Why does Resistance yield to our turning pro? Because Resistance is a bully. Resistance has no strength of its own; its power derives entirely from our fear of it. A bully will back down before the runtiest twerp who stands his ground.”

“The essence of professionalism is the focus upon the work and its demands, while we are doing it, to the exclusion of all else.”

“There’s no mystery to turning pro. It’s a decision brought about by an act of will. We make up our mind to view ourselves as pros and we do it. Simple as that.”

There’s something disarming and inspiring about Pressfield’s stark definitions of amateurs and pros. There’s nowhere to hide – you’re either an amateur, or you’re a pro, and there’s really no in-between. And despite the seemingy superhuman commitment and dedication being a pro requires, we’re all dying to be a pro – at something. OK, so if you’re gonna go pro, what will be your vocation? Pressfield writes, “Look in your own heart. Unless I’m crazy, right now a still small voice is piping up, telling you as it has ten thousand times, the calling that is yours and yours alone. You know it. No one has to tell you.” Acknowledging that voice is scary stuff…. very scary stuff. But so is dying and not having heeded that voice.

The War of Art – Defeating Resistance

My addiction to learning is fueled by those once-a-year books I pick up that literally change the way I perceive things and influence me to think and act differently. The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield, is that book for this year. I read the (short) book over the last few days, then re-read the first half of it again today (I guess I didn’t want it to end).the war of art
This is a book that slams you up ‘side the head with its blunt yet beautiful personification of Resistance (the malevolent force of nature that intentionally diverts the “artist” from sitting down and doing her work) and its description of the differences between a “professional” (someone who stomps on Resistance daily, in order to get work done) and an “amateur” (with whom Resistance has its own way). The final section discusses the “angels and muses” who use you and me as vessels for our art – if we’ll just get out of our own way, sit down, and begin.

The quality of the book that gives its ideas such power is its depiction of Resistance as an evil force that owns us – unless we become aware of its pernicious influence and take steps every day, every hour – whenever it creeps up on us – to actively combat Resistance. Here are some key excerpts from the first section that defines the enemy of Resistance:

“Are you a writer who doesn’t write, a painter who doesn’t paint, an entrepreneur who never starts a venture? Then you know what Resistance is.”

“Resistance will tell you anything to keep you from doing your work….It will reason with you like a lawyer or jam a nine-millimeter in your face like a stickup man.”

“Resistance’s goal is not to wound or disable. Resistance aims to kill. Its target is the epicenter of our being: our genius, our soul, the unique and priceless gift we were put on earth to give and that no one else has but us. Resistance means business. When we fight it, we are in a war to the death.”

“Resistance is directly proportional to love. If you’re feeling massive Resistance, the good news is, it means there’s tremendous love there too. If you didn’t love the project that is terrifying you, you wouldn’t feel anything.”

“Rationalization is Resistance’s right-hand man. It’s job is to keep us from feeling the shame we would feel if we truly faced what cowards we are for not doing our work.”

“Rationalization is Resistance’s spin doctor…. Resistance presents us with a series of plausible, rational justifications for why we shouldn’t do our work…. What Resistance leaves out, of course, is that none of this means diddly. Tolstoy had thirteen kids and wrote War and Peace. Lance Armstrong had cancer and won the Tour de France three years and counting.”

“Resistance seems to come from outside ourselves. We locate it in spouses, jobs, bosses, kids…. Resistance is not a peripheral opponent. Resistance arises from within. It is self-generated and self-perpetuated. Resistance is the enemy within.”

Already, since reading The War of Art, I have become much more tuned in to those moments when Resistance is trying to press its claws into me. And perhaps because I have learned to identify Resistance in all its chameleon, sneaky forms, I’m really enjoying kicking its butt. It’s been four straight days of running now, despite all the (true and real) rationalizations you could possibly imagine. Even writing this blog post is a victory over Resistance. Feels good to block the slam dunk of Resistance for one day. The war begins anew tomorrow morning, 5:00am. Bring it on.

By failing at GTD, I have learned its keys

I read the book, Getting Things Done, in 2001. Since then, I have re-read it several times and integrated many aspects of the program into my life. Unfortunately, I have not been able to attain “black belt” status during the last five years, nor have I come very close. And yet, the intention of working towards a black belt in GTD is always there. And every day I think and act in a bastardized GTD sort of way.

As a GTD believer who has so far failed to go the distance in implementing GTD in my life, I do think I have identified two main pillars of GTD which, of course, have been the toughest things for me to fully integrate.

1. The Weekly Review. This is sort of like eating vegetables and exercising daily. You know it’s good for you, you know you need to do it to be at your best and to live a better life, and yet it just doesn’t happen. My two main obstacles to completing a full-blown Weekly Review are: a) Negotiating with others who need my time to secure personal time I would need for a Weekly Review, and b) Even when I’ve scheduled time for a Weekly Review and am in-process, I have never failed to go down rabbit trails and start working on actions and projects before I’ve completed my Weekly Review. In short, I feel like I need an entire Saturday away from my family to get it done the right way (which I can’t get, because of my parenting priorities). Then, I need someone standing over me saying, “Do NOT start working on that. Write it down and go on to the next thing in your in basket. MOVE ON!”

2. Write down everything, get it all out of your head. Then throw it all into your in-box, to be processed once a day. I have become someone who writes down ALMOST everything, and gets ALMOST everything out of my head. And yet, as David Allen says, if you don’t get it ALL out of your head, if you don’t write it ALL down, you won’t trust your lists and you can’t relax knowing you’re doing exactly what you should be doing at that moment. I do carry around a pad and pen in my wallet and I use them often, but too often I still trust myself to remember ideas I’m having in the shower, while I’m driving, while I’m watching football on TV, etc. And then, I forget these ideas. Doh! And while I do use my in-box as a place to throw my ideas, I don’t go through my in-box frequently enough. There’s so much stuff in there, it repels me during a week of go-go-go implmentation. And then, I trust my lists even less. Because of my many young kids and my heavy parenting responsibilities, I can’t arrive at work earlier than 8 and I can’t leave later than 5:30pm and it’s a major deal to work on the weekends, and yet, what I really feel I need is more time – to process, to think, to plan next actions. I could stop working at 4:00pm and just process the in-box. Perhaps this would be better for my overall effectiveness. But my time for taking action is already so short, I’m loathe to shorten it for processing and thinking’s sake. (And yet, as I write that last sentence, it’s so obvious that it’s what I need to do.)

Don’t Add Unless You Subtract

mind set I picked up a really interesting book a couple of weeks ago: Mind Set! by John Naisbitt. I’ve never heard of Mr. Naisbitt, but I gather that he is well known for his ability to identify major trends and to give us a glimpse of what the future holds. In this book, he explains the eleven “mindsets” he has developed to synthesize the flood of information he’s exposed to every day (newspapers, media, etc.) and to develop his conclusions about significant trends.

“Don’t add unless you subtract” is one of his most compelling and interesting mindsets. I’ve been thinking about it for about a week now and have found it to be remarkably relevant in my life.

This fall, my staff decreased from five to four (including me) and a major new project (a new full-time job itself) was added to my plate. I added but did not subtract, and all four of us are feeling the effects.

I used to run every morning at 5am in order to be back home before the first of my three small children awoke, to tend to them so my wife could sleep in a little longer. Then came baby #4, and leaving at 5am meant not being around to help at 5:10am when the baby awoke, crying for a bottle. So, I added the baby, and subtracted the run. I have tried many ways to add the run back into my life, but have not been willing (yet) to subtract something else to make it work.

Of course, what I crave is a 25th hour in the day. While I know it doesn’t exist, a part of me thinks I can find it somehow. And it’s that irrational belief that makes me say “yes” to appealing requests for my time, despite my already-full schedule….

Obvious Adams

Obvious AdamsMany of us have an aversion to consultants – they cost so much and they think they’re so darn smart. But then why do we need consultants? Because it’s human nature for us to lose the ability to see our organizations, programs, and plans objectively. We need consultants to point out the obvious to us and develop obvious solutions to our problems. The fact is, if we could develop the ability to see our organizations and plans through fresh eyes every day, and then take time to think about obvious solutions, we would never need a consultant the rest of our careers. Meet Oliver “Obvious” Adams.

Obvious Adams, first published in the Saturday Evening Post in 1916, is the delightful short story of a “very ordinary sort of boy” possessing “no particular initiative” who, nevertheless, rises quickly in the Oswald Advertising Agency from “periodicals filer” to president of the company. Mr. Adams’ talent? He is able to discern the “obvious” solution to any problem. Invariably, his supervisors are stunned they did not see the simple solution for themselves: “Now, why in thunder couldn’t some of us have thought of that?”

Near the end of his career, Obvious Adams was interviewed and asked, “Why don’t more businessmen do the obvious?” And he answered,

“I have given considerable thought to that very question, and I have decided that picking out the obvious thing presupposes analysis, and analysis presupposes thinking, and thinking is the hardest work many people ever have to do, and they don’t like to do any more of it than they can help. They look for a royal road through some short cut in the form of a clever scheme or stunt, which they call the obvious thing to do; but calling it doesn’t make it so. They don’t gather all the facts and then analyze them before deciding what really is the obvious thing.”

How can we think about our projects, our work, our teams like an outside consultant? Do we take enough time to step back from our work, think about what the real objective is, analyze the current situation, and identify the “obvious” solution? And then, once we’ve identified it, how can we muster the courage to implement the “obvious” solution?