change expectations

In the last few weeks I've gone through a lot of change -- I got a new job (that starts tomorrow) and met a new guy (who's pretty terrific).  So it's no wonder that I haven't written much here recently.

It brings up something important about change that a lot of people overlook.  Every new beginning starts with an ending and a drop in performance.  Before I can start my new job, I have to finish up my old one.  And that means I'm not moving forward with anything new, I'm wrapping up all my old stuff.  Before I can get serious with my fella, I have to stop dating other people and take down my online profiles.  That makes sense.

But what most people forget is that our productivity -- at work, in our hobbies, running errands, whatever -- starts to plummet.

This model, adapted from William Bridges' book Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes, shows how productivity predictably behaves during a change.

In that first phase, you're in an ending.  Like me, maybe you're experiencing some anticipation, anxiety, and perhaps mild terror.  (You don't have to experience all those feelings listed -- I'm not angry or in shock, but I might be if the choice to leave my old job wasn't mine.)

In that second phase, which I'll be entering shortly, there's a lot of waiting, confusion, topsy-turviness, and some of that anxiety can continue.  Anyone who's had a new job or moved to a new city know this phase well -- how can you be efficient when you don't know where the bathroom or the grocery store is?  And the big mistake we make in this phase is beating ourselves up for not being more effective and productive.  But it's natural to tank here.

Eventually, though, that new beginning starts in earnest, and things start to get better.  We feel more comfortable, competent, and confident in our new role.  It's the new natural, or the new default state.

There are no rules about how long each phase lasts.  Sometimes you're in Phase 1 for hours, other times for weeks.  My personal experience is that Phase 2 lasts the longest, but that's because I'm hyper-sensitive to not being productive.  (In fact, I've often taken action in that middle phase that I've regretted later because I was hasty, anxious to get going, and should have been a little more patient with myself.)

I bring this up because it's easy to get frustrated during a change -- especially if you're changing with other people.  You may go through each phase fairly quickly, while a loved one or coworker doesn't.  The important thing to remember is that a) if you're in the middle of a change, it does get better, and b) just because you're on board doesn't mean others will meet you there on your schedule.

book review: Manifesting Change by Mike Dooley

I’m a subscriber to Notes from the Universe (which, if you aren’t, you should be and can sign up here) and the notes are always these wonderfully peaceful and inspirational thoughts. So I wanted to read more from Mike Dooley, the man who writes them.

I also want to shift some things in my life right now, and I’m open to all kinds of methods. I’ve tried coaching, I’ve tried therapy, I’ve tried working my butt off, I’ve tried crowdsourcing… and while each method has brought more into my life and helped me along the way, I’m always fascinated by a new way of looking at things. So I picked up Manifesting Change: It Couldn't Be Easier. (Appealing title, no?)

At the heart of the book are these instructions:
1. Identify your end destination
2. Move in that direction
3. Let the universe figure out the rest for you.


Like he said, it can’t be easier.

There are, however, a few things you should be aware of as you embark down the manifesting path. First, you want to identify your end destination in vague but specific terms. “I am blissfully happy in a relationship with a man” instead of “I am blissfully happy in a relationship with Fred.” “I have the job of my dreams that brings me wealth and meaningful work” instead of “I have the VP of Sales position at JPMorgan that makes me $1 million a year.” The argument here is that the more you narrow down the options for what will make you happy, the harder the universe is going to have to work to put all the right pieces together to make it happen.

Second, you must move in the direction of your joy. It’s not enough to identify your end result and visualize 24 hours a day and never get off the couch. If you’re looking for a job, you must visualize, identify how you want to feel in your job, and maybe some specifics around how much you want to make or how meaningful your contribution is, and then you must go out there and, as Dooley calls it, “knock on some doors.”

[Sidenote: a friend once told me about how she had completely given up on dating and her mother told her that she can’t just give up. That love “doesn’t just walk up to your door and knock.” The next day, the refrigerator repair man walked up and knocked on the door and they’ve been married for 10 years. It’s probably easier, however, to be out in the world of people if you want to meet your soulmate.]

And then the third part is the most challenging part for me – step back, and let the universe drive for you. The more I read this book, the more I realized how much of a control freak I am, always trying to control when I’m dating, what kind of work I do, how much of an impact I have on the world around me. So I’m practicing letting go and, in the proverbial 12 step language, letting god. I’ve turned it over to the universe, so watch out! I’ll probably be married before the R train goes back through the tunnel!

the relationship with your boss

(I write some articles for work, and this is borrowed and/or adapted from one of them. Enjoy!)

Every relationship has its challenges, and the relationship with your boss is no different. You have the power – and the responsibility – to make it the best relationship you can.

Any time there are two people working together, there are all kinds of opportunities to see things differently. Your boss may think you’re not skilled enough for a task you believe yourself to be. Your boss may have opinions about how you should dress or behave that you think he/she should keep private. Or your boss may prefer meeting in person when you think an email will suffice.

The good news is that taking responsibility in relationships means acknowledging that the only person you can change is you. Sure, your boss may do or say things that drive you crazy, but you can’t change him or her, and trying will only frustrate you! You don’t have to love your boss – you don’t even have to like him or her very much. But you do have to do your part.

This is where the basics from stress management come in. Apply the 3A’s – alter the situation, avoid the situation, or accept the situation and alter your response to it.

First is altering – what can you change in the world around you so that your boss’s behavior doesn't impact you so much? If your boss thinks you’re not skilled enough for a task, for example, can you alter the way you demonstrate your skills? Provide a weekly recap of all the things you did that prove you’re up for the task.

Second is avoiding – how can you reduce your exposure to the things that drive you crazy? This does not mean avoiding your boss completely! But it does mean that if the conversation finds its way to your boss’s opinions about your personal life, you can adeptly steer it in another direction. You don’t avoid your boss, you avoid the topics that cause the most stress.

And third is accepting the situation and altering your response to it – what do you need to think or do differently so that your boss’s behavior doesn't make you nuts? If your boss prefers meeting when an email will suffice, accept that there are going to be times you’ll have to spend an extra ten or twenty minutes when you’d rather be doing something else. If you change your expectations from “why doesn't she just email?” to “she prefers meeting, I can live with it” you may find yourself feeling less stressed about the relationship.

This last principle is the most important in avoiding stress in general, and I can see it all the time on the subway. When there are delays, you can’t alter the circumstances. (Unless, of course, you know how to drive a train.) You can’t avoid the situation; you’re smack in the middle of it. And so all you can do is accept the situation and alter your response to it. Instead of thinking (or, perhaps vocalizing, as New Yorkers tend to do) that this train needs to move or I’m going to be really late, you can accept that you’ll be stuck here for a minute or two and you can use the time to start thinking about what you’ll need to do next to mitigate the impacts of the delay.

I heard a great quote which covers this fairly well: if you can do something about it, why worry? And if you can’t do something about it, why worry?

All of this ties back to your responsibility to the relationship with your boss – or with anyone. Are you taking care of you? Are you bringing your best self to the relationship? Or are you blaming it all on your boss and hoping that, magically, he or she will a) know what exactly needs to change, and b) be able to do it?

blessings counted

Another hurricane in New York City, and it's a mess.  I am grateful that my friends, family, and neighborhood are more or less unscathed, and my thoughts go out to those who have lost anything. There are tons of people, buildings, businesses, homes, families that have suffered and changed, and at the bare minimum, we have all lost some peace of mind.

I've been trying to be cool, stay relaxed, and just go with the flow, but I've never been really good at that.  I like to know what's coming, plan for it, and then be able to get back to normal as quickly as possible.  This is great for things like getting to the airport on time, running 47 errands in an hour lunch break, or getting three coffee dates in before dinner.  What it's not good for is recovering from a hurricane.

My peace of mind is directly related to knowing what's going on;  having information, being able to make something that resembles a plan, and being in connection with those who are important to me.  And a hurricane changes that.  Subways stop running.  Phone calls get dropped.  Entire chocolate cakes get eaten.  There's a new normal, and nobody really knows what it is.  And while the internet and tv have provided all kinds of data and updates, it's still new and untamed.  Everyone is in a bit of a holding pattern, practicing patience.  Personally, I'm in a rush to go back to normal, but it's unclear when that will happen -- and in some parts of the city, it never will.

Some people work best in a time of upheaval or chaos -- they're better adapted to being flexible and going with the flow, and in fact, prefer to operate that way.  Life is more of an adventure for them, and not knowing is an accepted part of life.  We all have the ability to be flexible like this, but for some of us we have to work harder at it, and it comes less naturally.  But that's the reminder for me -- I'm not incapable of being patient, I'm not totally unskilled at going with the flow.  I just have to unhook myself from the outcome and see things as more of an adventure.

Because there's little else I can do right now.

more on beginner's mind

My last post mentioned the concept of beginner's mind, and I found an article that expands on it, pointing out 10 different ways to expand your perspective:

1. Take one step at a time.
2. Fall down seven times, get up eight times.
3. Use Don’t Know mind.
4. Live without shoulds.
5. Make use of experience
6. Let go of being an expert.
7. Experience the moment fully.
8. Disregard common sense.
9. Discard fear of failure.
10. Use the spirit of inquiry

Read the rest of the article here.  I enjoyed it and hope you will, too.

what I learned from the feds

You wouldn't know it just by looking at me, but I am currently on jury duty.

Ok, well, not active jury duty.  Standby jury duty.

I have been assigned an attractive eight-digit number and am required to call an 800 number every night for two weeks to see if they need me to report the next day.  Many people I tell say that this is so frustrating and awful, and, really, I see it as a win -- they could call me and require me to sit there every day for two weeks.

So I called the Friday before I was due to serve and the friendly voice on the phone said that if the first three letters of my last name were "S-A-N" then I was to report to the federal courthouse in Brooklyn.

Doing my civic duty.

I rolled up to the courthouse at about 8:25, as we were required under penalty of death and/or dismemberment to be there by 8:30.  I checked in my mobile devices (both work and play) and headed upstairs with two, thick Philippa Gregory novels.  At around 9:15 a woman came out and gave us a very sneaky speech about how she knows everyone hates jury duty and it's not her fault so please don't yell at her and don't worry if you're in the bathroom when your name is called because they'll keep calling it.

And then we waited.  And read.  And waited.  And tested the theory about your name being called in the bathroom.

I could go on for days about how thrilling it was, sitting in the overly air-conditioned room, waiting for something to happen, or how annoying it was to see Ms. Lateypants roll in around 10:30 and not get yelled at, but that's not my point.  I had vacation coming up later that week (for July 4th) and I did NOT want to be at jury duty instead of on vacation.  Miss work?  Sure, no problem.  Miss squishing my little nephews?  Think again.

At a certain point, people around me started freaking out about the fact that we were on a two-week standby.  "I have a doctor's appointment."  "I have to pick up my mother at the airport."  "I have to travel for work."  I wanted to stand up and scream, "I HAVE TO GO ON VACATION!" but thought maybe that was inappropriate.

I came up with a plan:  if I was called for Thursday, I would tell them I had a doctor's appointment and couldn't be there.  I was ready with the details of my extravagant lie -- I was seeing Dr. Tyler Andrews* in Connecticut who was an endocrinologist (apparently they're very hard to get appointments with -- who knew?).  I was starting to get antsy and panicky, when I realized there was nothing I could do about whether or not they called me.  I would just have to burn that bridge when I got there.

So I just waited.  I called Monday night to see if they needed me Tuesday -- nope.  I called Tuesday night to see if I would have to schedule that appointment, but no, they didn't need me.  Thursday night I called, and they didn't need me Friday, either.

(See where I'm going with this now?)

The feds taught me that sometimes it's not worth stressing about something you can't control.  Have a plan, be open and ready for what you don't want, and then Let. It. Go.  Sitting there (like Mr. Chattypants in the back of the room) worrying and fuming about whether or not I'd have to give up my vacation was just going to a) be annoying and b) cause me stress it turns out I wouldn't need to feel.

"Isn't that the whole point?" a friend of mine recently asked me.  "You realize there are things you can't control and then you just don't bother trying to control them."

Jury duty is just one of those things.

*both of my nephews' names

worlds collide! (or, would liking Office 2010 more make me a better person?)

I may or may not have mentioned that, once upon a time, I was a technology trainer at a law firm, teaching  lawyers how to use their computers.  So I'm something of a Microsoft Office expert, though it's not a quality I whip out at a first meeting because, really, it's not my sexiest feature.

Recently I was upgraded at work to Office 2010.  For those of you who don't know (or don't care), it's pretty radically different from the version I had before:  instead of menus, which drop down, there are ribbons, which spread across (and aren't nearly as easter-baskety as I was hoping).  I could go into greater detail, but all you really need to know is that things changed, and I was not happy.

But here's the funny thing -- I work with change a lot.  I teach a class on resiliency and the importance of being able to flow with change.  I know that I should be focusing on the things I can control (e.g., my learning) instead of the things I can't (e.g., the fact that Ctrl+Shift+M no longer creates a new message but instead tells me that a feature in my voicemail isn't working).  I know that I'm in the "ending" phase, or possibly the "confusion" phase, and that, soon, I'll be onboard with all these great new features.  I know a lot about change, and yet... none of it actually makes it easier to use Outlook!

This is where the big question comes in -- am I more reluctant to changes in Outlook because I think I'm an expert in it?  And does identifying myself with the idea of "experthood" make it, in fact, harder to change?

I remind myself to have a beginner's mind with Outlook, to seek out other experts, and find work-arounds for the things that used to come "expertly."  But I won't deny that it's challenging and frustrating.  And it makes me worried -- am I more of an Office expert than I am a change expert?

And should I really be worried about being an expert at all?

the math of dating

I read a cute little article in checkmatemagazine by Catherine Lowell that I thought I would share with you:

"One day in 1999, computer scientist Tristan Miller decided that he would never, ever find a girlfriend. As a tech genius with a sense of humor, he decided to do a comprehensive analysis to show why this might be the case.

His conclusion was simple: the math simply wasn’t in his favor. Using census data from 1998, he concluded that there was a 1 in 18,726 chance of finding “the one.”

Below is a simplified version of his logic.

Number of people on earth:   5,592,830,000

Number of females on earth:  2,941,118,000

Number of females in developed countries:  605,601,000

Number of females aged 18-25 in developed countries:  65,299,083

Number of those females who are “beautiful” (two standard deviations above the norm):  1,487,838

Number of those females who are intelligent, too (one standard deviation above the norm):  236,053

Number of those females who are also single (assuming 50% of women are single):  118,027

Number of interested women (assuming Tristan was one standard deviation above the woman’s average):  18,726

See his math in Why I Will Never Have a Girlfriend.

What Can This Mean!?

It means that if poor Tristan went on a blind date with a new girl every week, he might have to wait 67 years before he found the girl of his dreams.

What You Do!?
1.) Start dating at a very young age.
2.) Curse fate for handing you a statistical trap.
3.) Or… Chill out.

Tristan’s analysis exemplifies why looking for perfection in a partner is an exercise in futility. If you look for someone who is the top percentile of the top percentile, it will take you 67 years to find out that it’s hard to satisfy every box on your checklist.

Besides, imperfections make life much more interesting. Remember what Yogi Berra said: “If the world was perfect, it wouldn’t be.” An imperfect person might actually be the perfect person for you.

It’s not the best idea to go looking for a better version of yourself. If you work to become the best person you can be, dates will find you.

If you’re still discouraged… you can always apply to be Tristan Miller’s significant other."

do nothing

Over a recent brunch of silver dollar pancakes and two eggs (scrambled), I was complaining to my dear friend Jimmy about how I feel like I'm not making progress in the things that I want in my life.  He put down his birthday french toast, smiled, and gave me some wise advice. He said:

“You need to spend more time up a tree, with your shoes off, eating jellybeans and watching the clouds go by.”

(Like this, but with jellybeans* ---->)

"You have no idea," he said (and I am here paraphrasing) "how hard you work.  You need to take more time OFF.  Don't push for an outcome, just let it come to you."

"But, but, but..." I stammered.  I'd never get ANYWHERE if I did THAT.  And there are things that I want.  I, I, I... I don't know what to DO.

"Do nothing."  he said. 

After brunch, it started to hit me.  I've gotten much more gentle with my expectations in the past five years but I still drive myself, and hard.  I rarely screw up, but when I do, the gloves come off.  I hold my tongue when others don’t do what I have asked them to do THREE TIMES, but if I spend a weekend without checking off everything on my to do list, it was a “waste” of a weekend.

This isn't working.

Especially because, upon reflection, I have evidence that my weekend wasn't a waste.  I mopped the floor, baked a cake, took my friend out for birthday brunch, downloaded Office 2010 onto my computer, and watched several hours of Planet Earth, the nutritional supplement of television.  I didn't do nothing!

What I'm getting at is that it's time for me, once again, to question what it is that drives me.  Where did I learn my standards for what is and isn't ok, and am I willing to revise them?  Are they serving me?  Or are they holding me back? 

What good is going for perfection if it only makes me feel broken along the way?

Thanks, Jimmy.  Happy birthday!

* I may have made up the part about eating jellybeans, but it really should be in there, so I’m pretending it was.

shifting paradigms

I’m not a professional runner, so I won’t pretend to be one. But I’m going to tell you a story about one that, admittedly, comes second hand, so if you are a runner and I get the details wrong, please try to see the forest for the trees.

Back in the day (i.e., the 80’s) there was a guy named Cliff Young. He was a farmer in Australia and had a big farm with lots of sheep. To keep everything on the farm running smoothly, he ran from one part of the farm to another, running, running, running every day.

His friends noticed that he ran so much, they suggested to him that he run in a road race – the most grueling one they could think of, that spanned 543.7miles (875-kilometers) from Sydney to Melbourne. The race is a beast, the kind of race that usually takes fit, young athletes at the top of their form five days to complete.

Did I mention that Cliff was 61? Well, he was.

So Cliff showed up at the race in his farmer clothes – overalls and work boots – while everyone else was there in their Nikes and spandex and what have you. (Remember, it’s the 80’s.) People thought he was a joke. They thought he was there for entertainment, and not to run the race. But when the gun went off, off went Cliff, too.

The thing is, people also thought that the best way to get through this race was to run 18 hours and sleep 6. Run 18, sleep 6. Run 18, sleep 6. For five days. (Trust me, I’m exhausted just typing this.) Cliff, however, didn’t know what he was supposed to do, so he didn’t follow that paradigm. He ran 22 hours, and slept 2. Run 22, sleep 2. Run 22, sleep 2. And get there before anyone else does.

This is but one example of why “the way it’s always been done” doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the best way to do it. If Cliff had known what he was “supposed” to do before joining the race, he probably wouldn’t have won. And he probably would have shown up in Nikes and fancy 80’s spandex like everyone else and run differently than he did (apparently he had something of a shuffle) and possibly even have hurt himself.

So the moral of the story is twofold: just because everyone else thinks you can’t do something doesn’t mean you can’t, and second, just because that’s the way everyone else does it doesn’t mean it’s the only way to do it.

And you know what? The next year everyone ran 22, slept 2.

how secrecy can kill intimacy

A million years ago I worked with a very smart therapist on some problems I was having with my boyfriend. She caught on quickly to the fact that instead of telling him how I felt, I was just smothering my anger until it was way too late to deal with the problem at hand. I was hoarding small infractions and stockpiling insults. By the time I started working with her, I didn't want to look at my boyfriend, let alone make out with him. And on top of that, I felt guilty about not wanting to smooch him anymore!

She told me something that I've hung onto all these millennia: nothing kills intimacy faster than secrecy. And the things you're keeping secret don't have to be big, guilt-inducing, gut-wrenching secrets. They can simply be things like not telling someone your feelings were hurt by the way he assumed you would do the dishes, or that you were furious at how he left his shoes in the middle of the floor even though you asked him not to a billion times because you trip on them on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

The more of these unvoiced issues I sat on, the further and further away my boyfriend drifted. But it was hard to feel like my concerns were valid in the moment. Did he mean to leave his shoes there? And did I really have a right to be angry about him being forgetful? It took a lot of courage for me to start to see that what I wanted mattered as much as what he wanted, and that if I mentioned my concerns at the moment they happened I was only annoyed, not angry. Luckily, he was receptive to my efforts to get things off my chest before they festered, and things improved.

In the long run, the relationship didn't last, but I was reminded of this lesson earlier this month when I went to visit a friend across the country. My friend is in her first trimester (read: barfy) and a mom to a toddler (read: exhausted) and trying to buy a home (read: overwhelmed). When I booked my ticket she wasn't pregnant yet, so we thought it would be a fun-filled, sunshiney visit. But as my departure date approached, she was sounding more and more worn out, and I was beginning to worry that instead of being a fun addition to her house for the weekend, I would be yet another thing she would have to take care of.

But I sat on that. She wanted to see me, right? She was the one who was exhausted and overwhelmed, why should I worry that she didn't want to see me when everything she said made it sound like she did? I wouldn't be more exhausting, would I? I vowed to myself that I would not be a hassle... and then worried silently that I would.

The day before my flight I had worked myself into such a tizzy of non-communication that I finally had to call her and get it off my chest. "I'm worried that I'll be a burden, that you won't have any fun with me, and that you'll barf on me!"

"Well, I'm worried that you won't have any fun with me, I won't feel well enough to play with you, and that I'll barf on you!"

As soon as the words were out of our mouths, we were laughing again, saying that we would be fine. Prior to connecting, though, there was tension. We were both fearful that we would be the cause of pain to the other. And the more we over-thought it without reaching out to one another, the more secrecy we had, and the less close we felt.

Did she barf on me? No. Did she feel well enough to play with me the whole time? No. But I was prepared for that, and connected to her, so it all worked out just fine. It's amazing what obstacles intimacy can overcome.

the opposite of surrender

There is an element to surrender that's about capitulation and letting go of the expectation that things are going to go your way. And that can be a beautiful thing if you're surrendering, say, an addiction or a destructive habit. It's another thing all together, though, to surrender something important to you.

When I am challenged by someone wanting to change a belief of mine, I will almost certainly consider the other person's argument. Let's say someone wanted to tell me that coaching doesn't work, or that Sarah Palin would be a good president. I would disagree, reach out to his or her side to find common ground -- i.e., times when coaching doesn't work, or times when Sarah looks cute in a suit -- and then return to my own idea to reexamine it in light of the new perspective. Sometimes I change my mind, and sometimes I don't.

If I were to surrender my belief, though, immediately upon questioning, or just because it was questioned, I would be chipping away at the collection of beliefs I have that make up me. Some of them I'm willing to discard or surrender, but others are too valuable to me.

What I'm saying is that there's a time for surrender, and there's a time for digging in your heels and standing up for what's important to you.

So how do I know when to surrender, and when to hold fast? I make mistakes. I surrender something I shouldn't, once, and decide not to do it again next time. Or I hold fast to an idea far longer than it serves me. So I try really hard not to beat myself up for my mistakes because without them, I wouldn't know better the next time. I also try to surround myself with people who understand that I am continuing to grow, and that being around me will occasionally lead to experimentation and failure.

And it will also, undoubtedly, lead to great success.

rush rush rush rush rush rush

On Monday of this week, I dropped the little wallet I carry that holds next month's metrocard (worth $104) and all my IDs -- my license, my building pass, gym memberships, etc. I went back to look for it after I realized I had dropped it, but it was gone. To make matters worse, I was traveling for work Monday night and wouldn't be back in the city until Wednesday night, so I hoped that a Good Neighbor had picked it up and stowed it safely away for me, and figured that by the time I got back, I'd know more about it.

I have to say, I was impressed with how calm I was.

I got home Wednesday night, and, alas, there was no information. I went another day ID-less, and then on Friday started to replace the missing items. (Did you know you can get a replacement drivers license without going to the DMV? Heaven!!) I shelled out $25 for my building pass, $10 for my gym pass, $17.50 for my drivers license, and tried to cancel the metrocard to no avail. I was grumpy, grouchy, and extremely frustrated.

When I got home Friday night, though, there, in my mailbox, was a package from K. Murphy, my Incredible Neighbor. Mr. or Ms. Murphy not only returned my whole wallet to me, but included the unused, $104 metrocard! I was so impressed!

So what's the lesson? Wonderful things CAN happen, but not necessarily when I want/need/expect them to. This is really important for me to keep in mind, especially when pursuing things I want, like in dating, or looking for a new job, or trying to find an apartment. While there is definitely something to be said for faith, there is an equal amount to be said for patience.

Because not everybody knows my schedule. And even if they did, not everybody would care about it the way I do.