30GO30 - 30 minutes. 30 Days. Go change your life.

Learning to Listen (#21)

Mon, 20 Jun 2011 11:53:24 -0400

This is a personal entry for my 30-day Trusting Myself challenge, part of Seth Godin's #Trust30 project, inspired by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Today's Challenge:

We live in a society of advice columns, experts and make-over shows. Without even knowing it, you can begin to believe someone knows better than you how to live your life. Someone might know a particular something better – like how to bake a three-layer molten coconut chocolate cake or how to build a website – but nobody else on the planet knows how to live your life better than you. (Although one or two people may think they do.) For today, trying asking yourself often, especially before you make a choice, "What do I know about this?"

Today's entry:

I was born fiercely independent, and while I gravitate easily to the message of radical nonconformity, I've also come very close to colliding with it. I've found that navigating your own ego against the demands of the world is a balancing act – both forces can destroy you.

When I started my own business 5 years ago, I was hardly naive. I was 36, I had a Ph.D., I had helped build and run a successful start-up, and I had a wide skill-set. So, I embraced my stubborn individuality and set out to do it all my way. I paid lip service to asking people for advice, but I didn't really pay attention to them.

There was one problem: my way didn't work.

So, I choked down an unchewed chunk of my pride and I started to listen – not just to people's advice, but to their actions and results. I struggled to stop envying people's successes and to start learning from them. Even if everything they were doing wasn't right, and if some people were mostly lucky, I realized there were bits of truth out there.

I had to give up some of the ideas I clung to the tightest, but I realized that many of those ideas weren't essential to who I am – they were just habits. Ironically, "my" ideas were often just things other people passed down to me so long ago that I had forgotten. In essence, I realized I was fighting other people's ideas with other people's ideas.

Was everyone else always right? Of course not. I challenged the ideas that came my way, and I put them to the test. I held them up to the light along with my own treasured preconceptions, until I could see clearly which ones shone the brightest.

I let go of some of what I thought was uniquely me, only to discover that what was left was a lot more authentic. I learned to listen critically, but not cynically, because I think that filtering out the 90% of bad advice that comes my way is better than wholesale rejecting all of it and missing the 10% that could make my life better.

Of course, no one else can live my life, and I absolutely believe in carving my own path. For all my glimmers of uniqueness, though, I also know that I share a biology, a culture, and a point in space and time with billions of others, and it's a dangerous conceit to believe that I can't learn from them. Being unconventional doesn't mean rejecting all wisdom.

All Talk, No Action (#20)

Sun, 19 Jun 2011 22:14:16 -0400

This is a personal entry for my 30-day Trusting Myself challenge, part of Seth Godin's #Trust30 project, inspired by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Today's Challenge:

I once received a fortune cookie that read: "Speak less of your plans, you'll get more done." What's one project that you've been sitting on and thinking about but haven't made progress on? What's stopping you? What would happen if you actually went for it and did it?

Today's entry:

I think we've covered the project angle pretty well the past few days, but that fortune cookie caught my eye. I've mentioned that I'm a fan of ridiculously ambitious plans (a side effect of my delusions of grandeur, no doubt). Unfortunately, I also have a history of talking these plans up, speaking more and ultimately doing less.

My motives have been genuine – it's not so much about showing off as hoping that, if I say the plans out loud, they're more likely to become true. It's also a desperate attempt at accountability. Unfortunately, when it backfires, that pre-project announcement makes the failure all the worse. Now, I'm a fraud, and everyone knows it.

So, I tried keeping quiet for a while, and just doing the work. Instead of pre-announcing my ambition, I talked about my successes as they came, and it worked. Right or wrong, talking was ultimately only making me feel worse.

I'm not sure that's right for everyone – sometimes, we do have to get other people involved, for support and accountability. For me, though, my proclamations were just setting me up for an even higher fall. I had to put something into action, no matter how small.

In a way, that was the motivation behind this blog. What if, instead of grand plans and bold speeches, I just spent 30 minutes/day working? Where would I be after 30 days? Some days, laying down a few bricks is worth more than drafting an amazing blueprint.

Catastrophizing (#19)

Sun, 19 Jun 2011 21:16:17 -0400

This is a personal entry for my 30-day Trusting Myself challenge, part of Seth Godin's #Trust30 project, inspired by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Today's Challenge:

Trusting intuition and making decisions based on it is the most important activity of the creative artist and entrepreneur. If you are facing (and fearing) a difficult life decision, ask yourself these three questions:

1) "What are the costs of inaction?" I find it can be helpful to fight fear with fear. Fears of acting are easily and immediately articulated by our "lizard brains" (thanks Seth) e.g. what if I fail? what if I look stupid? If you systematically and clearly list the main costs of inaction, they will generally overshadow your immediate fears.

2) "What kind of person do I want to be?" I've found this question to be extremely useful. I admire people who act bravely and decisively. I know the only way to join their ranks is to face decisions that scare me. By seeing my actions as a path to becoming something I admire, I am more likely to act and make the tough calls.

3) "In the event of failure, could I generate an alterative positive outcome?" Imagine yourself failing to an extreme. What could you learn or do in that situation to make it a positive experience? We are generally so committed to the results we seek at the outset of a task or project that we forget about all the incredible value and experience that comes from engaging the world proactively, learning, and improving our circumstances as we go along.

Today's entry:

I'm not sure these are the kind of questions you can answer in an essay. They're the kind you have to ask yourself every day, over and over until they're so automatic that they have a chance at fighting the deep-seated doubts and fears they're working against.

I'm reminded of one of my favorite – if a bit unorthodox – psychologists, Albert Ellis. He talks lot about "catastrophizing", when we blow fear out of proportion, create a chain of events in our minds that leads to disaster. The problem is, we get so good at it that we start writing catastrophe scripts for ourselves, until it happens without our even having to have to do it out loud.

There are a lot of ways to try to stop these runaway trains of thought, but for me the best way is to say it out loud. What will happen if this project doesn't turn out the way I want it to? I'll feel like a failure, and let people down. They'll hate me forever and I'll lose all my clients. My clients will be so angry that they'll train an army of ninjas to kill me in my sleep.

Eventually, the fear sounds as absurd as it is.

Of course, this takes practice, too. Fear, however irrational, is incredibly powerful. Most of us have been drafting those negative scripts for decades. Writing Act 2 can take a while, but it's worth the effort.

Same Answer (#18)

Fri, 17 Jun 2011 10:24:59 -0400

This is a personal entry for my 30-day Trusting Myself challenge, part of Seth Godin's #Trust30 project, inspired by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Today's Challenge:

Write down your top three dreams. Now write down what's holding you back from them.

Today's entry:

So, here's my dilemma. I feel like I should be giving different, brilliantly unique answers to each of these questions. If you ask me what my goal is 5 different ways, though, and I give you 5 different answers, then I don't really have any idea what my goal is, do I?

Here are 3 big dreams/goals that I've mentioned in other #Trust30 posts:

See the Earth from space – Day 5

Learn Mandarin Chinese – Day 15

Re-commit to my workout – Day 7

I suppose that #1 is really a Capital-D dream – the others are more of a path to a dream and to my own self-actualization. I should also add that these are entirely personal development goals, not family, work, or material goals. I can't chart the course of my family, and the basics of raising my daughter well and taking care of her and my wife are always going to be a fundamental priority of my life.

What's holding me back? Well, #1 is pretty obvious – it's not feasible yet. So, I can just try to stay in shape and count my pennies. I've started practicing Mandarin after my work hours, when I'm spending time with my daughter, because it only requires listening (not my face glued to a screen). Exercise got thrown off by a cold, but I'm working on doing my basic workout before I turn on the computer in the morning. That's a big stumbling block for me, practically.

No real excuses, in other words. I need to keep doing what I'm doing. I'm working hard to stay focused on a couple of big priorities (like #2 and #3) and not spread myself too thin. One of the dangers of these introspective periods is going plan crazy and trying to take on the world in a week. That makes for a great week followed by 3 months of failure. I'd rather have steady success, even if it isn't as sexy.

Imperfect Futures (#17)

Thu, 16 Jun 2011 15:43:01 -0400

This is a personal entry for my 30-day Trusting Myself challenge, part of Seth Godin's #Trust30 project, inspired by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Today's Challenge:

My favorite quote of all time is Alan Kay: 'In order to predict the future, you have to invent it.' I am all about inventing the future. Decide what you want the future to be and make it happen. Because you can. Write about your future now.

Today's entry:

Alan Kay's quote (or a variation) is actually a magnet on our refrigerator. I've spent a lot of time staring at that magnet, which so far hasn't produced much in the way of enlightenment. Maybe I'm not staring right.

I'm struggling with this one, because I said most of what I had to say about the future on Day 6. To sum up: I'm not really a clear-vision-of-the-future kind of guy. I've always had a pretty good ability to point myself in a direction and course-correct as I go. I don't think there's one perfect outcome for me, and I try to be open to the possibilities along the way.

That said, I do firmly believe in fashioning that future as I go. I may be going west, but the wind isn't always in my favor – I appreciate people who are more Zen than I am, but I don't think I'll ever fully convert. Sometimes, I have to go in a certain direction, even if all the elements and good sense are telling me otherwise. I think even total obstinance can be a virtue in moderation.

Even if a perfect future exists, I'm not sure that any of us are smart enough to fully envision it. I know good art when I see it, but if you said "Think of the perfect painting," I just can't do it. Likewise, I know good things when they come along, and I try to act on them, but can't make a list of my next 100 opportunities on the spot.

I'm not sure trying to see the future that clearly is even wise. I may not be a religious man, in the usual sense, but I do accept that the universe is a lot more vast and amazing than I can wrap my human brain around. Personally, I think that's exciting. There are opportunities and futures that I haven't imagined, and I look forward to discovering them as I go.

Unlikely Moments (#16)

Wed, 15 Jun 2011 18:57:34 -0400

This is a personal entry for my 30-day Trusting Myself challenge, part of Seth Godin's #Trust30 project, inspired by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Today's Challenge:

Can you remember a moment in your life when you had life in yourself and it was wholly strange and new? Can you remember the moment when you stopped walking a path of someone else, and started cutting your own?

Write about that moment. And if you haven't experienced it yet, let the miracle play out in your mind's eye and write about that moment in your future.

Today's entry:

I feel like this post should gravitate to significant events, like finishing my Ph.D., our wedding day, or the birth of our daughter. I find, though, that significance can overwhelm a moment. Those were all amazing days, but they were the culmination of so many events and emotions that they're a haze in my mind. I have to take out the pictures some days to feel like I was actually there.

The moment I find myself thinking of is a road trip I took with some friends after college graduation. We visited a friend who lived in rural Montana, and he took us climbing out into the foothills. Actually, maybe they were just hills. No Sherpas were involved, but it was a decent climb.

The air was clear, the weather was perfect, and for a moment, I realized I had nowhere else to be and nothing else I had to do. I just wanted to reach the top – not to conquer it, but for the simple joy of climbing.

For a moment, at the top, I was overwhelmed with a sense that none of the little things trapped in the crevices of my mind mattered. I could see a storm in the distance, but it was nothing to be afraid of. I knew the rain would come soon, and I welcomed it.

There was nothing special about that hill or even that day, but I go back to it in my mind all the time. In a way, I think I realized that I was on the threshold of adulthood, and that was ok.

I could choose to climb up, and I could choose to climb back down. I could choose to stop at the top of the hill and take it all in for just a moment. Once in a while, I'd get rained on, and that was ok, too.

The Next Big Thing (#15)

Tue, 14 Jun 2011 12:36:38 -0400

This is a personal entry for my 30-day Trusting Myself challenge, part of Seth Godin's #Trust30 project, inspired by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Today's Challenge:

Take a moment, step back from your concerns, and focus on one thing: You have one life to achieve everything you've ever wanted. Sounds simple, but when you really focus on it, let it seep into your consciousness, you realize you only have about 100 years to get every single thing you've ever wanted to do. No second chances. This is your only shot. Suddenly, this means you should have started yesterday. No more waiting for permission or resources to start. Today is the day you make the rest of your life happen. Write down one thing you've always wanted to do and how you will achieve that goal. Don't be afraid to be very specific in how you'll achieve it: once you start achieving, your goals will get bigger and your capability to meet them will grow.

Today's entry:

Cuts right to the chase, doesn't it? I'm good at big plans – unfortunately, I'm good at big, life-altering, 17-part plans. Those plans are great when you're neck deep in motivation, but once the waters recede, there's just not enough left to feed all of those projects.

So, last year, I made a commitment not to take on new plans, but to take a long, hard look at past plans. What really mattered to me that hasn't been done? What have I talked about for months or years and just never gotten around to?

I started with the small(ish) stuff, like catching up on 2-3 years of books I never got around to reading. That's coming along, and I'm feeling good about it (working on finishing #25). I finished some big things for my business (like incorporating), that I put off for years. I refocused – and simplified – my exercise program, committed to some diet changes I've been paying lip-service to, launched this blog, and cleared out my tea collection.

It's a strange list, and I doubt that Tea Hoarder is going to be a hit show anytime soon, but all of these projects had one thing in common – I sincerely wanted to finish them and just never did. I started small to build momentum, and it's working, but that means there are a couple of big projects waiting for me.

So, let's talk about the toughest one. For a long time, I've dabbled with learning another language. Then, a few years back, my wife and I decided to learn Chinese. Her family is from Taiwan, we wanted to travel, and I'm interested in Asian culture.

I can make a dozen excuses, but here's the core of the problem – it's insanely difficult. Learning any language is tough, but everything about Mandarin Chinese is foreign. My wife and I took a few classes, bought a mountain of resources (I've got no excuses there), and it took months to make some progress.

We eventually did make some progress (she more than me, honestly), but then life and a couple of obstacles got in the way. These things happen, but that critical next step of dusting it off and starting again hasn't happened.

This is one of Gladwell's 10,000 hour sort of tasks. You can't grab a sack of White Castle and 6-pack of Red Bull and learn a language in an all-night study session. Even a 30-day challenge is just the tip of the iceberg. We're talking about working every day for a year or more to make real progress.

That kind of long-term project paralyzes me, especially when I'm not completely clear on the tangible benefits. I can break it into steps, but even the individual steps seem insurmountable. So, it has to come down to the day by day:

Practice 30 minutes/day (weekdays)

Practice with my wife (weekends)

Listen to podcasts while babysitting

A lot of language learning is listening, and that's something I can do while I watch my daughter at the end of the work day (and can't work in front of the computer). Ultimately, though, I've just got to get started again and stick to it. Consider this my official re-commitment.