Proceed Until Apprehended

The Internet is such a firehose. The information comes fast. The marketing comes fast. The new ideas, the new products, the next thing… fast, fast, fast.

I find myself getting pretty frustrated with the skimming it induces. A full night of superficial snippets can leave me with a lot of trivia and nothing of substance. I find it more important than ever to make sure I pull away from the bells and whistles every once in a while and actually go deep, immersing myself in something that engages my brain.  Deliberately exploring a topic to a new level of understanding makes a lot more meaning for me than the skim.

In fact, if we were to collect all the things we hear and see each day and somehow conduct an audit to figure out what actually made it into our brain, we’d realize we can do without a lot of the barrage that occupies us.

So, why do we often choose to consume so much at a superficial level? I think it’s because choosing to actively ignore information that’s coming at you is like the problem with not buying a  lottery ticket. How can you possibly not buy a ticket? This may be THE ONE.  What if this ticket is the one that makes you rich? What if that next phone call is the President? What if the next big Internet sensation needs my investment immediately? What if a once in a lifetime announcement is just around the corner? All that hope, all those what-ifs… they cause a lot of attention to be directed to areas that rarely, if ever, have a payoff.

Here’s why some can do without lottery tickets: They get the math. They understand that one in 14,000,000 means you’ll typically spend $14,000,000 on tickets before you hit THE ONE. There’s an equivalent logic for understanding the information barrage, too. It may be less tangible, but intuitively, we know it’s there. If you step away from the constant flow and deliberately pursue and immerse yourself in what you want to see, you get more, you learn more. It’s more relevant. It’s more applicable to your life because you have selected, not received.

We’re now in a world where it’s easier for each of us to be our own program director. There’s unlimited information. It’s accessible at the click of a button. It comes on our time and on our terms.

It’s time to break an old habit – technology now allows you near complete control of the firehose. Don’t let others choose the messages for you.

The myth of epiphanies is that they strike you when you’re not expecting it.  You’re sitting in your bathtub and suddenly you shout “Eureka!” because you’ve realized that water displacement can measure volume.

Well, OK. I think that one actually did happen.

I don’t think that’s always the case.

Often, epiphanies come from a systematic effort to think about a problem differently. I propose that the key is actually that you open your mind to approach the problem from different angles. You have to deliberately steer your mind to make wander or make connections between seemingly unrelated concepts.

The reason epiphanies sometimes happen when you’re not trying to solve the problem is that we allow our minds out of the restrictions we were imposing on it. That doesn’t have to be by accident.

In 1990, Frank Lynn Meshberger, M.D., saw that Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam” on the Sistine Chapel was actually a side profile of the human brain. The fact had been overlooked for centuries. I remeber hearing this back in the day, and it has always stuck with me. I find it pretty cool, not because of what Michelangelo did (it’s debated), but that Dr. Meshberger saw what so many others had not.

He had been in medical school at the time and happened to look at picture of the fresco shortly after dissecting and drawing a human brain – here’s the story.

That discovery, I would suggest, was a very happy coincidence (if you indeed believe Michelangelo was drawing a human brain). Regardless, this kind of a discovery offers a glimpse, into how we can synthesize and find solutions.  Sometimes, problem-solving comes when we add in lots of influences, not when we buckle down and “work the problem.”

If you’re stuck or things aren’t coming together, it might be time to pick up a book, look through the funny pages or listen to a symphony. You might need to invite in some other opinions, or draw the problem as a picture, or write a short story about it.

Putting in some extra hours at the office is likely counter-productive.

It appears I had a different sort of experience than many of my friends and colleagues through the Vancouver Olympics.

I enjoyed the competition, I definitely enjoyed the stories of triumph and tragedy, but I’m not left feeling I’m better off after I had this intense blitz of melodramatic reality broadcast to me.

I keep hearing that the Olympics are a treasured experience for my fellow Canadians. That the gold medal count, the hockey victory and the splendid performance of the City of Vancouver were a fantastic, even memorable experience for them.

I’m sitting here wondering how the Olympic viewing experience is anything more than a brief break from reality. Cynical, no?

Like many of us, I’ve given in to the allure of a large bag of  potato chips in just one sitting, or a second bowl of ice cream when one would suffice. I’ve honked my horn or shook an angry fist at a fellow driver and I’ve said something hurtful to a friend so that I’d feel better. All of these actions share a common thread – they offer a respite from my own hurt or sadness. They give reprieve, just for a moment.

After each of these events, I think you’re quite likely going to experience a hard landing back to reality. Those reprieves don’t last forever, and when they end, you’re actually a step back from where you started.

I’m trying not to make a negative post here, and I know I’m failing. I’m trying to say that “vacations” from reality don’t help us, they momentarily sidetrack us. They trick us into sitting on the couch for two weeks or gaining weight instead of losing. They withdraw deposits from the emotional bank account or they coax us into engaging with a road-rager in a no-win situation.

One of the things I’m personally working on is not wasting time in front of the TV. If I am in front of it, it’s programming I’ve carefully selected with the commercials removed.

My clear-headed, relentless pursuit of this objective was sidetracked by the Olympics. I sat in front of the TV indiscriminately. I didn’t know what was coming next. There was lots of interesting stuff, but I also watched uninteresting, unfulfilling blather and watched more commercials in that two week period than I do in an entire year. Those two weeks of excessive couch potato-ing were a backslide.

Damn you, Olympics and your heartwarming stories.

In the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Dr. Stephen Covey illustrates the role of a leader with the Jungle Analogy.  He talks about a group, an organization, committed to swathing a path through the jungle.  In this organization, he identifies three roles – the machete-wielding worker, the manager and the leader.

While the worker is cutting down the undergrowth, the manager is behind the action making sure the worker is well supported – sharpening machetes, providing training, nutrition, strength building, you could even imagine this manager providing supportive words of encouragement… “Great slash! A couple more like that and you’ll be up for hacker of the year!”

The leader is perched atop a tall tree ensuring direction, and if necessary, yelling “Wrong jungle!”

The lesson Dr. Covey is conveying is about the importance of having someone that is at the highest of high levels thinking about purpose and direction. Another great example he uses is talking about climbing a ladder and the importance of having the ladder up against the correct wall. I’m in wholehearted agreement with the sentiment.

I really like this jungle analogy. When I talk about it, I always attribute more lessons to it than Dr. Covey did. I think this analogy is fantastic for helping us understand our organizations. It simplifies the playing field and allows for a very direct examination and discussion about roles in the workplace.

Here’s my addition to the analogy. I think the Manager feels tremendously inadequate in their role. They’re on the field. They’re in a position to assess and actually provide criticism on the actions of others, however they don’t cut. They don’t participate in the direct purpose of the organization. Seen from the perspective of a hotshot machete worker, they’re a gofer. A waterboy.

For managers, that can weigh heavy, especially since most of them used to be hotshot machete workers. I think these managers have a tremendous internal pressure to pick up a machete and impressively lead the way. Especially consider when one of their machete workers pleadingly looks back at them. “This is a very difficult patch,” they say. What manager could resist the opportunity to show their skill at getting the job done? It’s a moment that allows them to be a hero, is it not?

The moment a manager puts down their clipboard and starts hacking, the organization is gravely injured. When a manager takes on that role on the front lines, all other machete workers are without support. It’s so simple to see in the analogy, so seemingly difficult to see in the office. In the manager’s (selfish) effort to show their ability and see immediate progress, they reduce the capability of everyone else. I’m not sure that’s even the worse part, though. They also teach one machete wielder a very unhelpful lesson – if you find yourself in a challenging spot, look backwards. Rather than taking the time to figure it out, you can count on someone else to do the really hard stuff.

If a manager does their very difficult, emotionally demanding job of not jumping in, they build capability of staff.  They build a more sustainable and healthy organization.

Here’s the assignment. Don’t look for validation through the social mirror, look for it in your own principles. The majority of your colleagues likely won’t be with you, but that’s not the objective. You’re looking for personal satisfaction for a job effectively done. For what it’s worth, I will also be celebrating your courageous choice.

Chris commented on my about page. As my response kept getting longer, I decided it needed it’s own post.

Thanks Chris,
It’s an interesting question. How does one get into this?

I think the start is mostly curiosity. You end up asking questions like, “Does it really have to be this way?” or “Why are things this inefficient/ineffective left this way?” Part of that examination for me was, “Do I really want to make a killing in business and be known for all the money I made?”

I know you see a better way. There is a better way. Let’s take that as a given.

With this knowledge and the need to do something with it, I’ve created sort of a self-imposed life crisis. Rather than wait until mid-life, I work myself up and get really anxious about the limited results I’ll have if I abide by the (artificial) rules of the game. I recognize, on a theoretical level, that moving outside of my comfort zone will create some positive results, either in what I learn or what I accomplish.

What you’re seeing on this blog is the result of me pushing my comfort zone and putting the theory into practice. I’ve also practiced it in how I conduct my employment search, how I speak truth to my friends and colleagues and even how I ride my bike, among other things. Each of these practices teaches me a little something about myself and the social boundaries around us. I’m constantly on the prowl for the next way I’m going to challenge my assumptions and I have ideas that are giving me heart palpitations right now. I should say though, that it is getting easier.

I’m sometimes accused of being fearless, but I’m far from it. This is a deliberate effort to discover who I really want to be. I’m acknowledging my fear, asking if it’s a rational belief and often discovering that it isn’t.

The 4-Hour Workweek by Tim Ferris has some great exercises to build your comfort with, well, discomfort. I’d say try his exercises. His blog is here. He’s a fascinating guy who essentially applies this practice to everything in his life. 

Another way to start down the path is to find something you’re not doing because you think you’ll get fired and ask yourself, really? Will they fire me over that? The answer is likely no. Think of it as civil disobedience. You’re not explicitly fighting, you’re just not following the rules. They won’t fire you for that. It’s not in their rulebook. Worst-case scenario, you may be humiliated, demoted or snickered at, but you’ll still get your paycheque. The things you learn, however, will be priceless. That’s how I started. Literally, I said, “Well, they’ll give me a few warnings before they can me, so I’ll try it.” Still waiting for the first warning, FYI.

Here’s one last thought. If you (or any reader) wants to find me and make a plan or talk about this over coffee, lunch or over the phone, that’s an excellent use of my time. Just contact me.

This images is from typcut, found via Thank Goodness it’s Monday.

Love it.

Try this with me. Use both your index finger and your middle finger to point with both hands. Tilt your head slightly forward, place your newly formed pointers at your temples and try and turn on your screensaver. Sometimes it takes up to five minutes, but you’ll get it. I promise.

If that’s not your cup of tea, try this: By simply using your free will, you can alter the behaviour of others.

This is sci-fi, mind-bending stuff, but I need you to bear with me. By simply deciding what you’re going to do (and not do), you can influence the way others act.

Here’s an example. I decided not to be so beholden to email. Actually, I decided not to allow my day to be dictated by all members of the interruption family – walk-in requests, phone calls and voicemails, emails, the day’s media stories… I made a conscious choice to work on the most important things, not the last thing.

I still deal with all the “incoming,” but I do it on my schedule. That means twice a day email checks, all phone calls screened, polite requests to reschedule if an interruption is inconvenient and I disregard local media.

You know what happened?

Nothing.

Well actually, better than nothing. Colleagues quit sending me urgent stuff. I quit being so quick to respond to what I saw as distractions and I received less of them.

How did that happen, you say? Well, this is where the paranormal piece is strongest. I don’t really know what caused it. I don’t think it was a conscious utility decision by my colleagues (Danielson won’t help, keep him off the list). I think it was that, over time, I was no longer considered the guy who just gets stuff done. At some point, I stopped being top of mind for panic situations. I quit being an enabler of urgency addiction.

Maybe another example makes it clearer. I like to ride my bike to work. I’m a die-hard commuter during the months we’re not covered in snow. When I first started biking, I was a timid, apologetic cyclist, using the roadway when I wasn’t being an obstruction for vehicles. I’d squeeze over to the right side, as far as I could without falling onto the curb and make myself small when a vehicle skimmed past. And vehicles came real close. Drivers saw that I was offering the lane and they took it. It was their lane after all, I was just an interloper.

Now, though, I’ve decided my bike is a vehicle. it’s MY LANE to do with as I please. I’m right out in the middle of it, and if a driver doesn’t like it, well, they can not like it. It’s now a rare occurrence that a vehicle doesn’t give me a wide berth.

You could say I’m moving three tons of glass and metal with my mind. Pretty impressive, huh?

I tend to think of my bike actions as “signaling.” The behaviours I consciously exhibit (and remain steadfastly committed to) create a constant that others simply choose to work around. In a way, I’m counting on the smaller commitment of others. They may desire to move/operate/function in a certain way, but it’s not worth their time to argue with the obstinate guy.

Of course, I don’t think I’m obstinate. I think I’m passionate, and committed, and thoughtful. Sometimes it’s hard because I feel like other’s eyes are boring into me either at the office or on the road, but that’s actually my baggage. I can definitely influence that.

I can point to two definitive instances when I had a revelation about my personal responsibility.

The first happened when I was about seven or eight years old. It was a realization that someone had been taking care of me. Before that point, I had the care-free existence that most children get to have, where everything just was. The neighbourhood was my entire world. There was no responsibility, no future to concern me and no basic needs to fulfill. Someone else, namely my parents, took complete responsibility for my welfare.

That was a long time ago and I was a little kid, but I still remember the loss I felt. I knew then that one day I was going to have to take responsibility. I was soon resigned to this new future, but I remember wishing I just hadn’t figured it out for a few more years.

What followed was a few decades of slow, incremental growth of responsibility. I went from being a child to being a kid with desires to grow. I went from being a straight-A student to being a young adult that wanted to be successful in the world. I got into management roles and areas of responsibility with work that I thought were impressive. I kept a mental note of who were at the same “level” as me. I should always be the youngest, I thought. I thought that was a good measure of my ability and my success. It was this pattern that also started to create dissonance for me. I saw that this was a path that would keep going for my entire career. Then, as the saying goes, “when the student is ready, the teacher will appear.”

I found myself at a leadership training course in 2005 with a man that would become my personal coach. He said leadership was “down and in before up and out.” This idea, as well as many of the practical concepts he shared that day, created the second significant revelation for me. I saw that not only was I responsible to care for myself (my epiphany as an eight-year-old), but I was also personally responsible for the way I responded to events and the way I acted. I wasn’t just there to know the answer and implement it. As an intelligent and responsible person, I could… should… decide what was the right and effective thing to do. A subtle distinction, perhaps, but it shifted me from my basic responsibility to be a proficient and market-valuable person to a responsibility to be a thoughtful and participating member of humanity.

I see now there is an entire industry of people trying to help others make this leap. The personal responsibility revelation market. If I could bottle my experience and put it on a shelf, I could be a millionaire. Alas, it appears that the revelation is destined to remain in the domain of psyches and souls of individuals. It’s a personal journey. No-one else takes you there. Having people talk about it and share their experience helps though, so I’ll keep talking about it.

I was re-reading Seth Godin’s Tribes and came across this:

It’s easy to underestimate how difficult it is for someone to become curious. For seven, ten, or even fifiteen years of school, you are required to not be curious. Over and over and over again, the curious are punished.

I don’t think it’s a matter of saying a magic word; boom and then suddenly something happens and you’re curious. It’s more about a five- or ten- or fifteen year process where you start finding your voice, and finally you bigin to realize that the safest thing you can do feels risk and the riskies thing you can do is play it safe.

I apologize if this isn’t new to you. I’m not necessarily writing anything original with this post. However, I find this to be such a simple, profound observation that I can’t let it go, even if it’s new for just one reader.

I want to share with you the “Marshmallow Test.” I’m familiar with the Marshmallow Test because Daniel Goleman talks about it. Goleman is a leader in the Emotional Intelligence field of study, and it’s very informative stuff, in that so-reasonable-it-must-be-true sort of way.

The Marshmallow Test had researchers putting a marshmallow in front of four-year-olds. If the child can wait 20 minutes without consuming it, they get another one. They can then receive a total of two marshmallows. If they eat the first before 20, that’s it. They’re done at one.

This can be seen as a pretty simple measure of these kid’s ability to delay gratification. Twenty years later, the researchers show that the kids that had the ability to manage their impulsive desire to eat the marshmallow for twenty minutes did better on a number of measures intended to indicate life success.

Perhaps the lesson is obvious by this point, but let me hit you over the head with it anyway. We’re confronted with opportunities to get instant gratification all the time. Buy now, pay next year. Skip the gym. Eat the dessert. Avoid the crucial conversation.

Beyond the results of the test, I think we all know we can challenge ourselves to put the long-term utility of our choices as a bigger priority than our immediate satisfaction.

I’m not saying don’t pursue gratification, though it’s an option. The lesson I take is that the more we can manage our impulses and make rationale decisions about what and when, the better off we are in the long run.