Are you the main character of your life? Do you practice unconditional responsibility?
In 2005 I worked for Citigroup. Citigroup had, in the post-Enron corporate scandal plagued environment, engaged a firm called Axialent to design a one-week course that was called “Conscious Business”. Citigroup’s aim was to help its senior managers become more skilled advocates and implementers of the values throughout the organization. The practical learning and insights I gained from this course were so applicable to work and personal situations that to this day it remains the best training courses I have ever attended.
I am going to attempt to explain a little bit of what that course imparted to me.
We are inundated with books that tell us that if we only do certain things and behave in certain ways, success is assured. But if we think about it we know that success – if it is defined as obtaining a desired result – is usually conditional upon some factors beyond our control. There is another perspective from which every action can be assessed beyond results – it is the perspective of the action’s integrity, which is its consistency with the person’s guiding objectives. There is no contradiction between success and integrity – many people fear that if they find satisfaction in honorable behavior they will somehow become soft in delivering results. But this is not the case. Those of us who have been, at one time or other, blinkered workaholics know that there is a limit to the energy you get if the drive for success crowds out all your other values. Success and virtue and respect and excellence can co-exist and when they do, and you are able to put those values into practice and express them in your behaviors – Fred Kofman, the founder of Axialent would say - you are acting with consciousness.
Consciousness means finding your passion, and expressing that passion and your essential values through your behavior. A conscious person seeks to promote the healthy pursuit of happiness in all facets of their life – who the person is at home is consistent with who he/she is at work. A conscious person takes full and unconditional responsibility for what happens in their life. You must be the main player in your own life; you cannot see yourself as a passive victim.
This is a powerful concept. We probably all see the two different mental models – that of the helpless unconscious victim and that of the powerful conscious player, displayed every day at work, unfortunately often the latter dominates. I confess I have been both in different moments. If my mind-set is that of a victim, in unsatisfactory situation I’ll focus and dwell on:
- What happened to me.
- How hurt and inconvenienced I feel.
- The persons who is perceived to have wronged and hurt me.
- What the other person should have done better.
- What the other person should do to fix the damage.
- How it will negatively affect me if the other person carries on this behavior.
The player looks at the situation with an entirely different mental model or set of lens. The player asks:
- What challenge did I face?
- What was my response?
- What was my goal?
- What values and principles would I like to guide my actions?
- What were the negative consequences of my behavior?
- What alternative action on my part would have been more effective to achieve success with integrity?
- Is there anything I can do now to minimize or repair the damage?
- What have I learnt from this experience?
- How do I feel acting as a player in this situation?
Let’s take an example from real life:
Another department sends to you just before noon on Thursday an urgent request for a proposal that they need handled within 24 hours. You work late and complete the task at the expense of the relationship with your family who resents your lack of work life balance
After a situation like this, if you take the approach of the victim you would probably complain, come up with a mental list of all the deficiencies the other department’s handling of the matter, and feel upset, irritated and angry at your co-workers. I have been a victim many times!
If instead, you decide to be a player you can recognize the actions you could have taken to possibly realize an outcome more consistent with your values. You would reflect upon:
- What was my response? I stayed up late to finish the proposal on time. I had other things to do during the day and I choose not to postpone them. I unconsciously choose to write the proposal after work hours.
- What was my goal? I wanted to get the contract related to the proposal that was prepared. I also wanted to not upset my family.
What values and principles would I like to guide my actions? I want to be honest and responsible. I want to be in charge of my decisions. I want to balance the demands of my family and my career.
- What were the negative consequences of my behavior? Primarily the stress and the resentment I felt, and the upset my family felt.
- What alternative action on my part would have been more effective to achieve success with integrity? I could have attempted to negotiate an extension of the deadline. Even if it could not have been changed, I would have felt more in control if I had voiced my concern. I could have declined the request for the proposal and/or asked for the help of a colleague to complete it. I should have better explained the situation to my family.
- How do I feel acting as a player in reviewing this situation? A lot better! I see how I can improve the outcome if this situation arises again.
Can you see how this type of awareness, this consciousness is the main source of unconditional success.…success beyond success … success defined as behaving in accordance with your values (versus winning at any cost)?
That’s the power of being a player and the main character of your life. Sure, it’s a little scary letting go of our protective blanket of blaming others & our self-image of perfection, but if you let go of those unsatisfying games and begin to play consciously you will grasp life more fully than you can ever imagine! May the conscious games begin.
(September 2008)
______________________
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Mentors (CC10)
My parents tower above me. Although they and I are now the same height I still look up to them. I still often carry this feeling ...the feeling of the silly joy of a little girl who knows that if she gets swept down one of life’s slides her daddy will be there to cradle her before she hits the cold, hard earth; the feeling of confident certainty of a little girl who knows that if she gets a few bumps and bruises on the play-ground of life mommy will know exactly how to help her transform her tears into triumph, and her pain into perspective. My childhood play-ground, Jamaica is a scorchingly bright, inexplicably complex, often strangely divided society. In the sometimes harsh sunlight of island life I have been lucky to have had more than two shadows shielding me from the heat. In addition to my parents I can remember the Uncles, the Aunts, the Teachers, the Coaches who passed through my world, whether for a marathon stretch or a short-sprint, and who provided a spot of shade long enough for me to learn how to protect myself from the environment’s most damaging rays while encouraging me to step-out into the light.
With the benefit of hind-sight I look back now on the years that have passed since I exchanged the play-ground swing for the corporate ladder and – as my adult vision adjusts to the realities of a grown-up world – I am beginning to see how much I owe to these people; it is beginning to come into focus just how much of who I am has been shaped by these people who left a little piece of themselves with me. I imagine Hillary Clinton would call them “the Villagers” given her belief that “It takes a Village to Raise a Child”. I call them “The Angels Among Us”. You will probably be most comfortable with the name “Mentors”.
Terri gave a great talk a few weeks ago on mentorship and it’s been on my mind since. For me the word mentor is rich and broad and varied. The word is like a big, red, happy umbrella under which you can fit healthy parents, and empathetic friends, caring strangers, and passionate teachers. Mentors are the iron-smiths whose hands visibly and invisibly have helped forge us from formless liquid metal into solid iron. Mentors are the wine-makers who consciously or unconsciously helped us to age with grace and purpose and who helped us determine if we wanted to be robust and bold, fresh and fruity, or subtle and sweet.
If you think about it, you will probably be humbled to realize that you are less of a self-made person than you thought you were; but hopefully you are also honoured that all around you there are opportunities to do for others what your mentors did for you. Where would you be without the hands-that have sown together your character, that have stitched your flaws closed? For me ...my life might have been very different. My first year of high-school was tremendously dislocating for me. I was a precocious tomboy who needed activity as well as academics, trying to fit into a co-ed school with no sports program. As soon as school started I immediately felt like a fish out of water. But my parents insisted that I was simply a swan who needed to find the right lake.
So for my second year of high-school I dived into the girls’ school my sister attended which also happened to be my mother’s alma mater. There in the classroom I found teachers like Mrs. Bryan, who, when was about to sit the toughest exams of my life, quietly and consistently let me and my good friend Cecile know that she knew her best students were capable of smoothly gliding across the water no matter how rough the ripples got. And teachers like Mr. Boothe, who as the only male teacher in an all girls school and the home-room teacher for over twenty teenage girls, was a sterling example of gentlemanly yet approachable composure under extreme circumstances.
Outside of the classroom I met examples that kept me clear on what my path should be. The women (past-students of my high school, St. Andrew High) who led the field hockey coaching program were all professionals; independent, interesting, educated. Dr. Gale Kerr could be a stern and exacting person. If you made a play that was not up to Gale’s standard, Gale was going to let you know about it. But when she said “well played” you walked around like you had won the lottery! Dr. Michelle Holt - one of the best hockey players Jamaica has produced – coached me from high-school through to the medal winning national team years. She is a mentor with whom my interactions have ranged from the highest highs to the lowest lows; always the experiences have stretched me to stand a little taller.
Pablo Picasso said “Action is the foundational key to all success”. Have you noticed that the best mentors don’t just talk, they walk? Have you noticed that the best mentors walk much more than they talk? I learnt social studies driving with my mother as she went out to conduct voluntary literacy classes in parts of the country that were so remote they hadn’t been detailed on any map. I was taught finance by watching my father live simply, and invest patiently in real estate. I was taught religion by observing Miss Ruby (a grandmother figure in my life) who never gave birth but was surrounded by the love of the innumerable children she took the time to care for, including myself.
Who will trace the delicate strands that weave together their life direction, to you? Who will see your colours in the threads of embroidery on the coat of confidence that they wear through their life? When you are no longer physically here, who will feel that a part of their spirit expanded because you existed and that a part of their heart has contracted because you no longer breathe? If you walk the talk, and laugh and smile, and reinforce the best and offer encouragement through the worse, you can give someone an example to look up to, something to look forward to becoming, somewhere to look ahead to. Be open to the opportunities to leave a positive footprint when you step, however briefly, into another person’s life. Call it mentoring, or call it whatever suits you, becoming a winemaker who helps ferment vintages of the human kind will help you become wonderfully intoxicated with life!
(October 2008)
__________________________
With the benefit of hind-sight I look back now on the years that have passed since I exchanged the play-ground swing for the corporate ladder and – as my adult vision adjusts to the realities of a grown-up world – I am beginning to see how much I owe to these people; it is beginning to come into focus just how much of who I am has been shaped by these people who left a little piece of themselves with me. I imagine Hillary Clinton would call them “the Villagers” given her belief that “It takes a Village to Raise a Child”. I call them “The Angels Among Us”. You will probably be most comfortable with the name “Mentors”.
Terri gave a great talk a few weeks ago on mentorship and it’s been on my mind since. For me the word mentor is rich and broad and varied. The word is like a big, red, happy umbrella under which you can fit healthy parents, and empathetic friends, caring strangers, and passionate teachers. Mentors are the iron-smiths whose hands visibly and invisibly have helped forge us from formless liquid metal into solid iron. Mentors are the wine-makers who consciously or unconsciously helped us to age with grace and purpose and who helped us determine if we wanted to be robust and bold, fresh and fruity, or subtle and sweet.
If you think about it, you will probably be humbled to realize that you are less of a self-made person than you thought you were; but hopefully you are also honoured that all around you there are opportunities to do for others what your mentors did for you. Where would you be without the hands-that have sown together your character, that have stitched your flaws closed? For me ...my life might have been very different. My first year of high-school was tremendously dislocating for me. I was a precocious tomboy who needed activity as well as academics, trying to fit into a co-ed school with no sports program. As soon as school started I immediately felt like a fish out of water. But my parents insisted that I was simply a swan who needed to find the right lake.
So for my second year of high-school I dived into the girls’ school my sister attended which also happened to be my mother’s alma mater. There in the classroom I found teachers like Mrs. Bryan, who, when was about to sit the toughest exams of my life, quietly and consistently let me and my good friend Cecile know that she knew her best students were capable of smoothly gliding across the water no matter how rough the ripples got. And teachers like Mr. Boothe, who as the only male teacher in an all girls school and the home-room teacher for over twenty teenage girls, was a sterling example of gentlemanly yet approachable composure under extreme circumstances.
Outside of the classroom I met examples that kept me clear on what my path should be. The women (past-students of my high school, St. Andrew High) who led the field hockey coaching program were all professionals; independent, interesting, educated. Dr. Gale Kerr could be a stern and exacting person. If you made a play that was not up to Gale’s standard, Gale was going to let you know about it. But when she said “well played” you walked around like you had won the lottery! Dr. Michelle Holt - one of the best hockey players Jamaica has produced – coached me from high-school through to the medal winning national team years. She is a mentor with whom my interactions have ranged from the highest highs to the lowest lows; always the experiences have stretched me to stand a little taller.
Pablo Picasso said “Action is the foundational key to all success”. Have you noticed that the best mentors don’t just talk, they walk? Have you noticed that the best mentors walk much more than they talk? I learnt social studies driving with my mother as she went out to conduct voluntary literacy classes in parts of the country that were so remote they hadn’t been detailed on any map. I was taught finance by watching my father live simply, and invest patiently in real estate. I was taught religion by observing Miss Ruby (a grandmother figure in my life) who never gave birth but was surrounded by the love of the innumerable children she took the time to care for, including myself.
Who will trace the delicate strands that weave together their life direction, to you? Who will see your colours in the threads of embroidery on the coat of confidence that they wear through their life? When you are no longer physically here, who will feel that a part of their spirit expanded because you existed and that a part of their heart has contracted because you no longer breathe? If you walk the talk, and laugh and smile, and reinforce the best and offer encouragement through the worse, you can give someone an example to look up to, something to look forward to becoming, somewhere to look ahead to. Be open to the opportunities to leave a positive footprint when you step, however briefly, into another person’s life. Call it mentoring, or call it whatever suits you, becoming a winemaker who helps ferment vintages of the human kind will help you become wonderfully intoxicated with life!
(October 2008)
__________________________
Now! (CC9)
The year was 1990. I was standing in front of the television screen, waiting, anticipating. When the Prison gates opened, Nelson Mandela appeared – beaming and beautiful. I was overcome with awe for this man who had confronted the ugly side of race and culture, endured 26 years of imprisonment and emotional and physical battering, and emerged calm in the mist of chaos. He looked presidential despite the enormous pressures and great expectations surrounding him, and he remained an unfailing believer in the best within people instead of succumbing to the bitterness he must have at times felt from the actions he had endured at the hands of the worse of people.
I believe that we are now being given the gift to participate in another moment like that, a moment that will be a landmark for our generation, a moment that your grand-children will read about in order to understand what our generation stood for. On the other side of Canada’s border a historic election will occur in November: 45 years after Dr. Martin Luther King gave his speech sharing his dream of a world in which no person was judged based on the colour of their skin, and 40 years after Dr. King gave his life for that cause, we are witnessing a giant step in the journey towards the achievement of Dr. King’s dream: Barrack Obama is running a very credible campaign for the presidency of the United States of America.
I am here to persuade you to do more than watch, to get excited, to join in this journey, and to dare to participate in this moment.
Why should you bother? Because given the size of its resources, the U.S. leadership influences greatly the direction of lives well beyond its own borders, including your own. You may not have a U.S. vote, but you, like Dr. King, have a view of how you would like this world to be. I sense that your aspirations are more consistent with the values of Obama than those of that other candidate.
Obama has a world view that is willing to communicate with foreign governments, even those that do not agree with the U.S.. This is very important. Back in the 1990s, Nelson Mandela in a large town-hall session in America, was asked why America should consider him and the ANC a friend when he sometimes held different views from America and had allies that America did not approve of. His answer was consummately intelligent and courageous. He in essence stated: “We cannot expect our friends to agree with us on everything; moreover it is likely to be unhealthy for us if they do”. We know this makes sense – imagine how we would degenerate as individuals if we began to view everyone who disagreed with us as enemies. Obama got his early exposure to organizing people via his involvement in anti-apartheid rallies as at student, and later working on the ground with ethnically-diverse Chicago communities. He has clearly allowed the experiences of Gandhi and King and Mandela to shape his views that not all foreign policy problems lend themselves to a military solution, and that in many instances grassroots movements and bottom-up development are the most effective agents of lasting change.
Obama understands that people – whether in Zimbabwe under the sick government of Robert Mugabe or in Venezuela under the socialist government of Chavez – aspire to the same things, a reasonable standard of living, consistent safety for their family, and decent education for their children. Obama understands that the rights to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” are not rights that only Americans should have a monopoly on. I believe Obama would provide U.S. leadership that would use the U.S. flag as a foundation on which a coherent set of values governing the U.S. meddling abroad would be built, versus the Bush-McCain approach of using it as a blind-fold to over-look values and facts that do not suit their short-sighted vision of American self-interest.
How do you participate? In the years leading up to the successful collapse of South African apartheid we learnt that the dollars in our hands and the words in our mouth had power. So in Jamaica we spoke positively about the change we dreamed of living to witness. When cynics would say “Apartheid will always exist” we would respond that “Apartheid may continue to exist, but we will continue making it clear that we consider it wrong”; or when doubters would say “Those who keep apartheid going are too politically and economically powerful to be displaced “we would respond “Then we will weaken them where it hurts – in their pockets and by winning South Africans of all colours to the cause”. This is your opportunity to do likewise. Respond to the cynics and the doubters; or get your “Obama 08” bumper sticker; or display a “change we can believe in” flyer. Don’t stand paralysed by the fear spread by those who still think in black and white. Do not ignore the similarities between yourself and this man – the similar values; the desire to deal with the issues confronting those who don’t earn a millions of dollars a year; and the interest in improving relationships between people of diverse backgrounds. Don’t ignore all those shared values and instead focus on what may be the one difference, the colour of his skin. And don’t swallow your tongue when someone cynically says “What difference can Obama make”. Instead dare to say, “Maybe none; that is the risk we take every time we try a new approach. However with Obama we have a great possibility that positive change will occur, with the alternative we have no such possibility.”
My friends this is the last 5 minutes of the journey, if you are going to participate in making history happen, the time is now!
I believe that we are now being given the gift to participate in another moment like that, a moment that will be a landmark for our generation, a moment that your grand-children will read about in order to understand what our generation stood for. On the other side of Canada’s border a historic election will occur in November: 45 years after Dr. Martin Luther King gave his speech sharing his dream of a world in which no person was judged based on the colour of their skin, and 40 years after Dr. King gave his life for that cause, we are witnessing a giant step in the journey towards the achievement of Dr. King’s dream: Barrack Obama is running a very credible campaign for the presidency of the United States of America.
I am here to persuade you to do more than watch, to get excited, to join in this journey, and to dare to participate in this moment.
Why should you bother? Because given the size of its resources, the U.S. leadership influences greatly the direction of lives well beyond its own borders, including your own. You may not have a U.S. vote, but you, like Dr. King, have a view of how you would like this world to be. I sense that your aspirations are more consistent with the values of Obama than those of that other candidate.
Obama has a world view that is willing to communicate with foreign governments, even those that do not agree with the U.S.. This is very important. Back in the 1990s, Nelson Mandela in a large town-hall session in America, was asked why America should consider him and the ANC a friend when he sometimes held different views from America and had allies that America did not approve of. His answer was consummately intelligent and courageous. He in essence stated: “We cannot expect our friends to agree with us on everything; moreover it is likely to be unhealthy for us if they do”. We know this makes sense – imagine how we would degenerate as individuals if we began to view everyone who disagreed with us as enemies. Obama got his early exposure to organizing people via his involvement in anti-apartheid rallies as at student, and later working on the ground with ethnically-diverse Chicago communities. He has clearly allowed the experiences of Gandhi and King and Mandela to shape his views that not all foreign policy problems lend themselves to a military solution, and that in many instances grassroots movements and bottom-up development are the most effective agents of lasting change.
Obama understands that people – whether in Zimbabwe under the sick government of Robert Mugabe or in Venezuela under the socialist government of Chavez – aspire to the same things, a reasonable standard of living, consistent safety for their family, and decent education for their children. Obama understands that the rights to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” are not rights that only Americans should have a monopoly on. I believe Obama would provide U.S. leadership that would use the U.S. flag as a foundation on which a coherent set of values governing the U.S. meddling abroad would be built, versus the Bush-McCain approach of using it as a blind-fold to over-look values and facts that do not suit their short-sighted vision of American self-interest.
How do you participate? In the years leading up to the successful collapse of South African apartheid we learnt that the dollars in our hands and the words in our mouth had power. So in Jamaica we spoke positively about the change we dreamed of living to witness. When cynics would say “Apartheid will always exist” we would respond that “Apartheid may continue to exist, but we will continue making it clear that we consider it wrong”; or when doubters would say “Those who keep apartheid going are too politically and economically powerful to be displaced “we would respond “Then we will weaken them where it hurts – in their pockets and by winning South Africans of all colours to the cause”. This is your opportunity to do likewise. Respond to the cynics and the doubters; or get your “Obama 08” bumper sticker; or display a “change we can believe in” flyer. Don’t stand paralysed by the fear spread by those who still think in black and white. Do not ignore the similarities between yourself and this man – the similar values; the desire to deal with the issues confronting those who don’t earn a millions of dollars a year; and the interest in improving relationships between people of diverse backgrounds. Don’t ignore all those shared values and instead focus on what may be the one difference, the colour of his skin. And don’t swallow your tongue when someone cynically says “What difference can Obama make”. Instead dare to say, “Maybe none; that is the risk we take every time we try a new approach. However with Obama we have a great possibility that positive change will occur, with the alternative we have no such possibility.”
My friends this is the last 5 minutes of the journey, if you are going to participate in making history happen, the time is now!
Congratulations! (CC8)
Last Friday as I sat on the plane to Toronto from Kingston I succumbed to reading the Globe and Mail newspaper in an attempt to pass the time. The Globe and Mail front page was covered with economic woe – the lead story screamed “Canada’s commodity engine stalls” and below it was an article titled “Leaders disagree on the severity of the downturn”. Whatever the true depth of the U.S led economic downturn, the domino-like fall of institutions we thought of as bigger, better, brighter and the now widely evident missteps of experts that many regarded as sharper, savvier, smarter seems to have elicited the same uniform message from most public commentators – the assertion that something entirely terrible is unfolding, something with only negative implications. To those of you who may have recently seen the value of your investment portfolio fall my humblest apologizes, but I think this reversal in the upward rise of everything with a dollar value is truly a healthy event.
You see I am convinced that we do not necessarily become better people, richer in character, or more caring citizens of the world in the good times.
It is in the giddiness of the good times that we get experiments in which billions are spent to look back into the forever gone past to attempt to garner the right to boast that man has gained knowledge that previously only God had. So, developed country governments gladly spend billions to discover how the wonder and the magnificence of the world came to be thousands of years ago before Christ, while inflexibly and sometimes scornfully refusing to forgive the debts of countries where, two thousand and eight years after Christ, the standard of living is so low millions of magnificent and wonderful human beings cannot, despite their sincere efforts, see how their next meal is going to come about.
It is in the distorted mirror of the good times that we normal folks tend to lose our perspective. In the good times more is not enough, so millionaires see psychiatrists after the annual publication of the Forbes’ list of the Richest People in the World to deal with the depression of their underachievement. Meanwhile billionaires on their private planes lobby their political representatives to defeat legislation that would ‘waste money’ on educational programs for those who are eager for opportunities that would empower them to live with dignity.
It is in the unrelenting good times that our prosperity brings arrogance rather than gratitude. I recall reading a magazine article by an African-American woman who had become a well-known person. Having built a successful career she subsequently she fell out of graces and hit a very rough patch in her professional life. The part of her story that gripped me was this: she recounted being approached by a struggling male back in the days when she was riding high. He was reaching for guidance, direction, probably even encouragement. She wrote that she responded to him with coldness and righteousness. That he had not yet been successful in securing a job indicated to her that he wasn’t trying hard enough. After all, her life experience to that point was one of generally obtaining what she aimed for. But then her downturn experience came – educated, connected, intelligent, and articulate she nonetheless faced a professional upheaval so deep that her self-confidence and personal psyche were severely shaken. During that time she says she thought of her response to the young male and cried. By the time of the writing of the article her life had recovered from the earthquakes that had rocked it.
I am eternally grateful that she did open her life to me with humility and honesty via the pages of that magazine because her story gave me my personal understanding of why the bible says it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Like that African American writer, if the good times last too long we begin to believe we have earned our fortunes without luck or favour, and those missing out have earned their misfortune; we pompously adopt the view that the world is always perfectly fair and we forget our moments of failure and near-misses. If the good times last too long we forget bad things happen to good people just as bad banks happen to good depositors. If the good times last too long the inequities that arise seem to pull those more blessed away from the unifying word “we” and closer to the divisive words “us” and “them”.
So congratulations, the bad times are here! There is a lot to look forward to. Out-of-context, overhyped, poorly laid-out, star-architect building projects like the extension to the Royal Ontario Museum will now get shelved, and with a little patience you may soon be able to buy Citigroup for under $10 (and trust me the people who bought Citi in its last deep crisis made a bundle). Even more exciting, I think the conditions are finally right for a bull market to begin in those intangibles and actions so magnificent and wonderful that their valuation is beyond the pricing mechanism of the financial markets. Actions like Alvaro’s efforts to save lives by evangelizing about blood donor-ship, or Diego’s nurturing of potential by sponsoring a child, or the simple kindness of Cheryl extending an invitation to go sailing.
In preparing this speech I agonized over the visual aids that would best support my point. In the end I could not come up with a visual tool more relevant and powerful than this: YOU. Look around at this Group, each of you with your uncomplicated commitment, volunteerism, and support are building a collective asset with no sales price but of considerable value. My question to each of you is: If I measured the aggregate generosity of this Group today and then returned a year from now, and charted where your generosity stood at both points in time, would the chart fit a speech labelled “Human generosity plummets in the face of weaker economic conditions” or would the chart perfectly complement a speech titled “The spectacular growth in Human generosity continues to defy the trend in the financial markets“.
I close with the challenge that you turn every dollar of decline you may experience in your stock portfolio into an investment in your humanity, your neighbours, your homeland, and your world community. If you can do that, the bad times and good times will all feel like the very best of times.
(October 2008)
You see I am convinced that we do not necessarily become better people, richer in character, or more caring citizens of the world in the good times.
It is in the giddiness of the good times that we get experiments in which billions are spent to look back into the forever gone past to attempt to garner the right to boast that man has gained knowledge that previously only God had. So, developed country governments gladly spend billions to discover how the wonder and the magnificence of the world came to be thousands of years ago before Christ, while inflexibly and sometimes scornfully refusing to forgive the debts of countries where, two thousand and eight years after Christ, the standard of living is so low millions of magnificent and wonderful human beings cannot, despite their sincere efforts, see how their next meal is going to come about.
It is in the distorted mirror of the good times that we normal folks tend to lose our perspective. In the good times more is not enough, so millionaires see psychiatrists after the annual publication of the Forbes’ list of the Richest People in the World to deal with the depression of their underachievement. Meanwhile billionaires on their private planes lobby their political representatives to defeat legislation that would ‘waste money’ on educational programs for those who are eager for opportunities that would empower them to live with dignity.
It is in the unrelenting good times that our prosperity brings arrogance rather than gratitude. I recall reading a magazine article by an African-American woman who had become a well-known person. Having built a successful career she subsequently she fell out of graces and hit a very rough patch in her professional life. The part of her story that gripped me was this: she recounted being approached by a struggling male back in the days when she was riding high. He was reaching for guidance, direction, probably even encouragement. She wrote that she responded to him with coldness and righteousness. That he had not yet been successful in securing a job indicated to her that he wasn’t trying hard enough. After all, her life experience to that point was one of generally obtaining what she aimed for. But then her downturn experience came – educated, connected, intelligent, and articulate she nonetheless faced a professional upheaval so deep that her self-confidence and personal psyche were severely shaken. During that time she says she thought of her response to the young male and cried. By the time of the writing of the article her life had recovered from the earthquakes that had rocked it.
I am eternally grateful that she did open her life to me with humility and honesty via the pages of that magazine because her story gave me my personal understanding of why the bible says it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Like that African American writer, if the good times last too long we begin to believe we have earned our fortunes without luck or favour, and those missing out have earned their misfortune; we pompously adopt the view that the world is always perfectly fair and we forget our moments of failure and near-misses. If the good times last too long we forget bad things happen to good people just as bad banks happen to good depositors. If the good times last too long the inequities that arise seem to pull those more blessed away from the unifying word “we” and closer to the divisive words “us” and “them”.
So congratulations, the bad times are here! There is a lot to look forward to. Out-of-context, overhyped, poorly laid-out, star-architect building projects like the extension to the Royal Ontario Museum will now get shelved, and with a little patience you may soon be able to buy Citigroup for under $10 (and trust me the people who bought Citi in its last deep crisis made a bundle). Even more exciting, I think the conditions are finally right for a bull market to begin in those intangibles and actions so magnificent and wonderful that their valuation is beyond the pricing mechanism of the financial markets. Actions like Alvaro’s efforts to save lives by evangelizing about blood donor-ship, or Diego’s nurturing of potential by sponsoring a child, or the simple kindness of Cheryl extending an invitation to go sailing.
In preparing this speech I agonized over the visual aids that would best support my point. In the end I could not come up with a visual tool more relevant and powerful than this: YOU. Look around at this Group, each of you with your uncomplicated commitment, volunteerism, and support are building a collective asset with no sales price but of considerable value. My question to each of you is: If I measured the aggregate generosity of this Group today and then returned a year from now, and charted where your generosity stood at both points in time, would the chart fit a speech labelled “Human generosity plummets in the face of weaker economic conditions” or would the chart perfectly complement a speech titled “The spectacular growth in Human generosity continues to defy the trend in the financial markets“.
I close with the challenge that you turn every dollar of decline you may experience in your stock portfolio into an investment in your humanity, your neighbours, your homeland, and your world community. If you can do that, the bad times and good times will all feel like the very best of times.
(October 2008)
Listen (CC7)
I think just about everyone dreams of finding the perfect relationship, the perfect match. I have been lucky many years ago I found mine. He was a patient listener, very protective. He loved many of the same things I did going for long hikes, lazing around on Sunday mornings before heading out to the beach. But heart-break came unexpectedly and abruptly. One day my darling dog passed away suddenly.
And there began a sequence of events that would remind me of something I think everyone needs to remember “Always listen to your mother”.
My girlfriends insisted that my next serious commitment should be with a two-legged dog (I mean male). Bless their beautiful well-intentioned souls, when it comes to romance and relationships all my friends – even the most sensible – seem to become raving optimists. They ignore the depressing statistics. According to the long-married Zig Kiglar in his best-selling book “Courtship after Marriage” 50% of first marriages fail, 60% of second marriages fail, and the third time is not the charm, 70% of third marriages fail. Yet people I know will tell me over and over about that one person they know who went on a blind date and met an employed, attractive fellow with no jail record and a decent credit score ... and how the two sailed happily ever after off into the eternal sunrise.
In throwing myself wholeheartedly into the world of human relationships, I tried to balance the hallucinations of my wonky, wonderful friends with the unbiased, informed guidance of experts. I found the expert input to be okay, but generally less useful than the money I paid for it. Dr. Barbara D’Angelis in her book “Are You the One For Me“ told me I should put forward a smiling demeanor on dates. I occasionally took her advice one step further and engaged in rip roaring laughter usually after the gentleman (and I use this term very loosely) casually mentioned something like:
“...yes, I have kids ...five ... but don’t worry I don’t see them ... they live with my ex-wife ... I mean wife ...its complicated.”
Many of the books and articles on dating and relationships warn it’s a jungle out there. They all lie – a jungle would be good, then maybe I would meet a courageous lion or a family focused elephant. It’s a darn farm out there – lots of jack-asses, loads of bull-you-know-what, a few pigs and some spineless chickens.
Dr. Phil McGraw in “Love Smart” his latest contribution to relationship drivel implies success is virtually assured if you become the type of person you want to attract. Yea, well tell that to TV-personality Star Jones, who after doing the hard work of physical and emotional transformation and celebrating her subsequent discovery of “Mr. Right” by penning her own relationship book “Shine“, found out soon after that like Crazy Columbus she had jumbled her coordinates and mistakenly landed at “Mr. Very Very Wrong”. Unfortunately, no matter what the Dr. Phil says there is not yet a fail-safe relationship compass that shows us true-North.
The 2nd best expert guidance I have heard came from Shirley McLain. In the movie “Rumor Has It” she turns to Jennifer Anniston’s character and says (and I misquote):
“Look, if you think you love him and if you want to marry him, then just marry him. It will either work or it won’t.”
“The” best all time relationship advice I have received was free, from Joan French (who holds a degree in marriage, divorce and motherhood from the highly ranked School of Life). Sometime after my beloved dog died but sometime before my sister decided to petition the court to gain formal separation from her husband (and I use the term loosely), and just around the time when it seemed everyone I knew and didn’t know was getting married, I was sitting with my mother across from her at the dining table of her home. It was one of those conversations that ebbed and flowed while mom (with glasses on) glanced through and occasionally frowned at, the local daily newspaper. After a particular ebb, I thought out loud – as though it was a task I felt I was obligated to do but didn’t really want to – “I should probably get married this year”. My mother slapped her hand down on the dining table killing a mosquito and then smiled in satisfaction. Just before returning the newspaper to its reading position she looked me in the eye and gently said “Why don’t you get a dog first.”
In other words, what Shirley & Joan are saying is that, after all the advice and statistics, after all the sensible things you can do get to know someone, relationships are about your head space/your commitment, and they always involve a risk! And your risk tolerance profile in all things should be about you, never about what the crowd is doing or peer pressure. If you don’t believe me, ask your mother!
(September 2008)
____________________________
And there began a sequence of events that would remind me of something I think everyone needs to remember “Always listen to your mother”.
My girlfriends insisted that my next serious commitment should be with a two-legged dog (I mean male). Bless their beautiful well-intentioned souls, when it comes to romance and relationships all my friends – even the most sensible – seem to become raving optimists. They ignore the depressing statistics. According to the long-married Zig Kiglar in his best-selling book “Courtship after Marriage” 50% of first marriages fail, 60% of second marriages fail, and the third time is not the charm, 70% of third marriages fail. Yet people I know will tell me over and over about that one person they know who went on a blind date and met an employed, attractive fellow with no jail record and a decent credit score ... and how the two sailed happily ever after off into the eternal sunrise.
In throwing myself wholeheartedly into the world of human relationships, I tried to balance the hallucinations of my wonky, wonderful friends with the unbiased, informed guidance of experts. I found the expert input to be okay, but generally less useful than the money I paid for it. Dr. Barbara D’Angelis in her book “Are You the One For Me“ told me I should put forward a smiling demeanor on dates. I occasionally took her advice one step further and engaged in rip roaring laughter usually after the gentleman (and I use this term very loosely) casually mentioned something like:
“...yes, I have kids ...five ... but don’t worry I don’t see them ... they live with my ex-wife ... I mean wife ...its complicated.”
Many of the books and articles on dating and relationships warn it’s a jungle out there. They all lie – a jungle would be good, then maybe I would meet a courageous lion or a family focused elephant. It’s a darn farm out there – lots of jack-asses, loads of bull-you-know-what, a few pigs and some spineless chickens.
Dr. Phil McGraw in “Love Smart” his latest contribution to relationship drivel implies success is virtually assured if you become the type of person you want to attract. Yea, well tell that to TV-personality Star Jones, who after doing the hard work of physical and emotional transformation and celebrating her subsequent discovery of “Mr. Right” by penning her own relationship book “Shine“, found out soon after that like Crazy Columbus she had jumbled her coordinates and mistakenly landed at “Mr. Very Very Wrong”. Unfortunately, no matter what the Dr. Phil says there is not yet a fail-safe relationship compass that shows us true-North.
The 2nd best expert guidance I have heard came from Shirley McLain. In the movie “Rumor Has It” she turns to Jennifer Anniston’s character and says (and I misquote):
“Look, if you think you love him and if you want to marry him, then just marry him. It will either work or it won’t.”
“The” best all time relationship advice I have received was free, from Joan French (who holds a degree in marriage, divorce and motherhood from the highly ranked School of Life). Sometime after my beloved dog died but sometime before my sister decided to petition the court to gain formal separation from her husband (and I use the term loosely), and just around the time when it seemed everyone I knew and didn’t know was getting married, I was sitting with my mother across from her at the dining table of her home. It was one of those conversations that ebbed and flowed while mom (with glasses on) glanced through and occasionally frowned at, the local daily newspaper. After a particular ebb, I thought out loud – as though it was a task I felt I was obligated to do but didn’t really want to – “I should probably get married this year”. My mother slapped her hand down on the dining table killing a mosquito and then smiled in satisfaction. Just before returning the newspaper to its reading position she looked me in the eye and gently said “Why don’t you get a dog first.”
In other words, what Shirley & Joan are saying is that, after all the advice and statistics, after all the sensible things you can do get to know someone, relationships are about your head space/your commitment, and they always involve a risk! And your risk tolerance profile in all things should be about you, never about what the crowd is doing or peer pressure. If you don’t believe me, ask your mother!
(September 2008)
____________________________
Leap (CC6)
Good morning Toastmasters!
Have you ever leapt feet first into doing something and then thought … ooopps I should have probably engaged my brain first before stepping into this? I recently got myself in to such a predicament thanks to PJ. Yes PJ, it’s all your fault.
I listened to a speech given by PJ and got all gung ho about the topic he spoke about. It made me recall the days when instead of reaching for the remote control after work I would instead reach for my running shoes. PJ shared with us his participation in marathons and I thought, jolly well then, with some sweat, sore muscles, and less sugar-happy eating habits, I could probably do that, or maybe half of that.
So a week or so latter I had a new goal in my life – to run a half marathon before leaving this sunny, warm, country where it never rains. I went online and found a few Toronto half-marathons in October and bookmarked them as possibilities. I checked my exciting new goal against the usual SMART criteria for sizing up goals: was it simple – sure! measureable – yeah! was it timely – absolutely! It was really late in the night when I did this so it wasn’t until much latter that I realized I’d skipped over the A & R - achievable and realistic - part of the SMART check. Be sure not to do this when setting goals– trust me, you’ll probably regret it!
But there I was on my “low-sugar high” in a haze of clueless stupidity. Running gear, $100 dollars; sport watch, $70; being too delusional to realize you are out of your mind, priceless.
For the first month I was so dedicated I developed a special relationship with a treadmill in the gym – it was right near a large glass window and it made a nice happy thud sound when I jogged on it. If someone was on my special treadmill when I came into the gym, I would silently channel “you need to leave now & have a pizza” thoughts to them and hope it would get them to vacate my spot. And can I tell you it worked 90% of the time. Each day my treadmill and I would meet, move to some reggae music, and part with the satisfaction of knowing that we each in our own little way were contributing to a healthier world.
But what goes around comes around. Those little pizza thoughts were a boomerang. They came back to me upsized with double mozzarella cheese and pepperoni plus a side order of garlic bread. And packets of sugar began to talk to me when I walked past coffee stores. They said “how could you! I’ve always been here for you! I’m one of the key employers in your country. Think of all the Jamaican workers who will lose their jobs if you don’t get back to consuming couple of teaspoons of sugar per day”. But the due diligence skills I have learnt as a Risk Manager saved me – I checked the fine print on those packets of sugar and none of them said “made in Jamaica”. That was it! I learnt sugar may taste sweet but it was one bitter little liar. And I’ve ignored it since.
So, by month two I had gotten the better of my caloric cravings and started my outdoor runs. There is something about the mix of the sun and the smog on a downtown Toronto evening that is just so, so – energizing. Sun and a little intermittent rain – no problem. But then things changed - it seemed that winter decided that she wasn’t quite finished with 2008. We need to define a term here – my definition of winter is whenever the temperature is low enough to cause me to shiver. It was August, I was shivering, and occasionally being drenched did not help. My gung-ho spirit was being beaten into the pavement with every run by the resurgent evil spirit of winter. After one run in the chill of the night in early August, I crawled home. My mind was blank; after it ‘defrosted’ the only thought that appeared was “this is all PJ’s fault”.
The thought was so ridiculous that I sat there and began to laugh out loud. I must have laughed for a good while because I think I was still laughing right up to when I dozed off to sleep. And the next day, a Saturday, I woke up & leapt feet first out of bed and out of the apartment and out to the pavement, and I didn’t give anything but the rhythm of my running feet a thought. I don’t worry anymore about what my brain thinks of my goal because it always seems to be a step or two behind the action anyway. So with the safety net of knowing that if I fall short of my goal I can save face by blaming PJ, I continue to leap feet first and pray that one day I’ll figure out how to use my fancy sports watch.
(September 2008)
__________________________
Have you ever leapt feet first into doing something and then thought … ooopps I should have probably engaged my brain first before stepping into this? I recently got myself in to such a predicament thanks to PJ. Yes PJ, it’s all your fault.
I listened to a speech given by PJ and got all gung ho about the topic he spoke about. It made me recall the days when instead of reaching for the remote control after work I would instead reach for my running shoes. PJ shared with us his participation in marathons and I thought, jolly well then, with some sweat, sore muscles, and less sugar-happy eating habits, I could probably do that, or maybe half of that.
So a week or so latter I had a new goal in my life – to run a half marathon before leaving this sunny, warm, country where it never rains. I went online and found a few Toronto half-marathons in October and bookmarked them as possibilities. I checked my exciting new goal against the usual SMART criteria for sizing up goals: was it simple – sure! measureable – yeah! was it timely – absolutely! It was really late in the night when I did this so it wasn’t until much latter that I realized I’d skipped over the A & R - achievable and realistic - part of the SMART check. Be sure not to do this when setting goals– trust me, you’ll probably regret it!
But there I was on my “low-sugar high” in a haze of clueless stupidity. Running gear, $100 dollars; sport watch, $70; being too delusional to realize you are out of your mind, priceless.
For the first month I was so dedicated I developed a special relationship with a treadmill in the gym – it was right near a large glass window and it made a nice happy thud sound when I jogged on it. If someone was on my special treadmill when I came into the gym, I would silently channel “you need to leave now & have a pizza” thoughts to them and hope it would get them to vacate my spot. And can I tell you it worked 90% of the time. Each day my treadmill and I would meet, move to some reggae music, and part with the satisfaction of knowing that we each in our own little way were contributing to a healthier world.
But what goes around comes around. Those little pizza thoughts were a boomerang. They came back to me upsized with double mozzarella cheese and pepperoni plus a side order of garlic bread. And packets of sugar began to talk to me when I walked past coffee stores. They said “how could you! I’ve always been here for you! I’m one of the key employers in your country. Think of all the Jamaican workers who will lose their jobs if you don’t get back to consuming couple of teaspoons of sugar per day”. But the due diligence skills I have learnt as a Risk Manager saved me – I checked the fine print on those packets of sugar and none of them said “made in Jamaica”. That was it! I learnt sugar may taste sweet but it was one bitter little liar. And I’ve ignored it since.
So, by month two I had gotten the better of my caloric cravings and started my outdoor runs. There is something about the mix of the sun and the smog on a downtown Toronto evening that is just so, so – energizing. Sun and a little intermittent rain – no problem. But then things changed - it seemed that winter decided that she wasn’t quite finished with 2008. We need to define a term here – my definition of winter is whenever the temperature is low enough to cause me to shiver. It was August, I was shivering, and occasionally being drenched did not help. My gung-ho spirit was being beaten into the pavement with every run by the resurgent evil spirit of winter. After one run in the chill of the night in early August, I crawled home. My mind was blank; after it ‘defrosted’ the only thought that appeared was “this is all PJ’s fault”.
The thought was so ridiculous that I sat there and began to laugh out loud. I must have laughed for a good while because I think I was still laughing right up to when I dozed off to sleep. And the next day, a Saturday, I woke up & leapt feet first out of bed and out of the apartment and out to the pavement, and I didn’t give anything but the rhythm of my running feet a thought. I don’t worry anymore about what my brain thinks of my goal because it always seems to be a step or two behind the action anyway. So with the safety net of knowing that if I fall short of my goal I can save face by blaming PJ, I continue to leap feet first and pray that one day I’ll figure out how to use my fancy sports watch.
(September 2008)
__________________________
Dare (CC5)
I ran my first 10 kilometre race on Saturday morning. It was brutal. I have no idea why I decided to go and do it that day. Sure, I jog several times a week and had been toying with the idea of running a 10K race because I was curious to see what participating in a 10K would be like and also to see how I would perform. But I had other perfectly good plans set-up for Saturday – I had registered for a 1-day habitat for humanity course. However, for some reason when I woke up early on Saturday morning the thought of being indoors and sitting for most of the day seemed unbearable. A few weeks earlier I had picked up a flyer for a 10K run to be held on Ward Island on Aug 16th, and for some reason I thought “Why not go do the 10K race instead”.
So I headed out – barely grabbing breakfast and forgetting to have my mandatory cup of tea. Deeply mistrustful of weather reports and deeply disliking the cold, I ignored the indication that the mid morning to afternoon would be nice and sunny and wore a long sleeved top. I successfully found the Ferry Terminal by the Habour-front, got registered for the 10K, and an hour later runner 112 (aka yours truly) was on a ferry over to Ward’s island. So far all was well. They say your world can change in an instant. In my case, an instant was 1 hour & 30 minutes after I stepped off the ferry. That’s when the 10K run began.
I figured based on my personal runs, 10K should take me an hour. My goal for the race was simple – finish it. I started the race with the pack, and fell into a nice rhythm listening to Lil’ Kim and Sean Paul courtesy of my ipod shuffle. The first 2K were comfortable. Between 3k and 4K the running surface transitioned from the road to the boardwalk. I had a great relaxing view of the lake on my right, but I wasn’t feeling very tranquil. I felt like I was running the race of those around me and not running my own race. By then could tell that the pace I started at was faster than my normal run. Also, it was getting rather warm – darn those weather geeks to be right on the one day I needed them to be consistent. Just as my ipod switched over to a song by Pink, a runner passed me, and a few seconds later another 2 runners passed me. My knees were beginning to hurt, and I was getting sick of the beautiful view. Right then I didn’t want to see water if I couldn’t drink it... so the lake was becoming annoying. I had endured enough of the boardwalk. My body was telling me I must be past the 4K point; but the course organisers seemed to have made a mistake because I hadn’t arrived at the 4K marker yet.
Finally I came to the 4K mark. Between 4 & 5K, the running surface transitioned from the boardwalk back to the road. Just before I got to the 5K mark, an older gentleman passed me. I mean an “older” gentleman. Then a more “mature” lady moved past. I was indignant. I was hot. I was all fed up with the outdoors; I wanted to go indoors, preferably somewhere with cold Jamaican beer and a bed.
By the 8k mark my knees were really hurting; almost like a deep ache. My left knee had been operated on many years earlier due to a sports injury, and it didn’t help that changes in the running surface were adding to the normal stress placed on my knees during runs. I kept telling myself, “just don’t stop moving; keep moving”. As I passed the 9K mark, I didn’t feel the relief I thought I would feel knowing that the finish line was relatively near. 1 kilometre seemed a far way off. Then as I was getting engulfed by my thoughts about the aches and pains I was feeling, I heard a voice from somewhere say “Almost there. You can do it”. I looked around and beside me was another female runner. We acknowledged each other with weak, exhausted smiles and automatically kept step with each other as a sign of silent support. A hundred meters later we turned off the road onto a grassy path for the final approach to the finish line. Within a few seconds I had completed the race in under an hour: meeting both my goal to complete and my goal regarding timing. And Lynda – my new acquaintance - finished shortly after.
In running you get discouraged if you focus on others progress rather than your own, you get tired, you at times forget what you came to achieve and waste energy trying to match someone else’s game plan. In running you have unexpected interactions that support you when you really need it, and you often surprise yourself by coming through challenges even when you are not necessarily fully prepared. Sounds a bit like the experiences of life doesn’t it? I wonder what I will learn the next time I follow my urge to get out and dare to run. Maybe on one of those occasions I’ll look around and share a smile & encouragement with one of you.
(August 2008)
_____________________
So I headed out – barely grabbing breakfast and forgetting to have my mandatory cup of tea. Deeply mistrustful of weather reports and deeply disliking the cold, I ignored the indication that the mid morning to afternoon would be nice and sunny and wore a long sleeved top. I successfully found the Ferry Terminal by the Habour-front, got registered for the 10K, and an hour later runner 112 (aka yours truly) was on a ferry over to Ward’s island. So far all was well. They say your world can change in an instant. In my case, an instant was 1 hour & 30 minutes after I stepped off the ferry. That’s when the 10K run began.
I figured based on my personal runs, 10K should take me an hour. My goal for the race was simple – finish it. I started the race with the pack, and fell into a nice rhythm listening to Lil’ Kim and Sean Paul courtesy of my ipod shuffle. The first 2K were comfortable. Between 3k and 4K the running surface transitioned from the road to the boardwalk. I had a great relaxing view of the lake on my right, but I wasn’t feeling very tranquil. I felt like I was running the race of those around me and not running my own race. By then could tell that the pace I started at was faster than my normal run. Also, it was getting rather warm – darn those weather geeks to be right on the one day I needed them to be consistent. Just as my ipod switched over to a song by Pink, a runner passed me, and a few seconds later another 2 runners passed me. My knees were beginning to hurt, and I was getting sick of the beautiful view. Right then I didn’t want to see water if I couldn’t drink it... so the lake was becoming annoying. I had endured enough of the boardwalk. My body was telling me I must be past the 4K point; but the course organisers seemed to have made a mistake because I hadn’t arrived at the 4K marker yet.
Finally I came to the 4K mark. Between 4 & 5K, the running surface transitioned from the boardwalk back to the road. Just before I got to the 5K mark, an older gentleman passed me. I mean an “older” gentleman. Then a more “mature” lady moved past. I was indignant. I was hot. I was all fed up with the outdoors; I wanted to go indoors, preferably somewhere with cold Jamaican beer and a bed.
By the 8k mark my knees were really hurting; almost like a deep ache. My left knee had been operated on many years earlier due to a sports injury, and it didn’t help that changes in the running surface were adding to the normal stress placed on my knees during runs. I kept telling myself, “just don’t stop moving; keep moving”. As I passed the 9K mark, I didn’t feel the relief I thought I would feel knowing that the finish line was relatively near. 1 kilometre seemed a far way off. Then as I was getting engulfed by my thoughts about the aches and pains I was feeling, I heard a voice from somewhere say “Almost there. You can do it”. I looked around and beside me was another female runner. We acknowledged each other with weak, exhausted smiles and automatically kept step with each other as a sign of silent support. A hundred meters later we turned off the road onto a grassy path for the final approach to the finish line. Within a few seconds I had completed the race in under an hour: meeting both my goal to complete and my goal regarding timing. And Lynda – my new acquaintance - finished shortly after.
In running you get discouraged if you focus on others progress rather than your own, you get tired, you at times forget what you came to achieve and waste energy trying to match someone else’s game plan. In running you have unexpected interactions that support you when you really need it, and you often surprise yourself by coming through challenges even when you are not necessarily fully prepared. Sounds a bit like the experiences of life doesn’t it? I wonder what I will learn the next time I follow my urge to get out and dare to run. Maybe on one of those occasions I’ll look around and share a smile & encouragement with one of you.
(August 2008)
_____________________
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