Friday, November 29, 2024

Don't Confuse Frenzy with Efficiency

 

Image by DeepAI

One morning, I arrived at my office at 3:45 am to continue working on a project that has been a thorn in my side for a long time. For 14 hours, I labored on the project. Several times during the day, I found myself struggling to stay awake.

It’s a bad habit I’ve had for a long time: going way too far above and beyond to “do my job.” The funny thing is, that project isn’t even my job. It belongs to someone else in the company but because it was ignored for so long, their lack of preparation became an emergency on my part. Nice guy. Hero complex.

Some days, my interrupted interruptions get interrupted. My professional life resembles whack-a-mole most days where I dart from one thing to the next, trying to put out as many “fires” as I can.

Many days, I go home after working for too many hours, wondering what it is that I’ve accomplished that day.

Maybe getting to the office at 3:45 am is somewhat unique to people with my kind of hero complex, but the story isn’t just mine. My story is just an example of a pervasive culture that rewards visible activity over meaningful outcomes. How many of us wear busyness like a badge of honor, even when it leads to burnout?

Gloria Mark from the University of California, Irvine, who specialized in digital distractions, claims it takes 23 minutes to regain focus after an interruption.

As one whose professional life has been governed by chaos, I can’t get behind Gloria’s number. It seems inflated to the point of being sensational. However, I won’t argue that interruptions break focus and make it harder to get things done, especially when those things require deep thinking.

The daily frenzy that many of us experience often extends outside of work either because we always take work with us or because other areas of our lives are as hectic as our work ones.

How did we get here?

The idea of always being on isn’t necessarily new. The Industrial Revolution birthed this idea that “time equals money,” where productivity was measured in tangible outputs. While it may have started in a more “blue collar” environment, over time it permeated just about every work sector. In short, success became tied to visible effort, creating a culture where overworking was and is seen as a virtue.

Competitive capitalism, particularly in “hustle culture” — where working nonstop is framed as the path to success — has been promoted, even glamorized, especially in entrepreneurial and corporate environments.

Related to the idea of hustle culture, there’s been a general shift toward individualism where personal achievement is a defining characteristic — perhaps the defining characteristic — which is often connected to self-worth. It create pressure to constantly prove your value. I’ve personally used the phrase, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” which has been far too common a motto that creates an almost heroic view of exhaustion as a badge of honor.

Of course, no dialog about how we ended up in our current predicament would be complete without discussing technology’s role in all of this. Before people walked around with computers in their pockets all the time, a home phone was the only way to be reached outside of work hours, and a sense of propriety (mostly) kept that from being a problem. Now, we can be bothered at any time during the day with text messages, Teams Messages, and Slack chats which we’ve been conditioned to respond to as fast as we can. Get that dopamine hit!

How do we get out?

So, we’re here. Now what? How can we undo what has been quietly creeping into our lives for the last 25+ years?

It’s not an option for most people to quit their job and live a monastic lifestyle. For most people, taking two weeks off during the year is a tall order.

To get out of where we are, small steps will have to be taken by large numbers of people for society to shift back the other direction.

  1. Redefine success. It’s time to shift our focus from being busy to achieving meaningful outcomes. Asking a question like “What really matters, and how can I contribute to it?” might help set the stage.
  2. Set boundaries. If you have a demanding employer, you know this one’s not easy. We’ve forgotten that we trade some of our time for money and it’s okay to say no sometimes.
  3. Push for systematic change. This is where the small steps taken by large numbers of people will have the greatest impact. We can individually and collectively advocate for policies that value team accountability over individual heroics.
  4. Use technology wisely. It’s hard to beat the dopamine hit that comes from clearing that notification, and checking another thing of the digital to do list. We have to set boundaries around technology to help us remember that it’s a tool to help us not enslave us.
  5. Normalize rest. Research abounds supporting the idea that downtime is a critical part of productivity. Real rest fuels creativity, decision-making, and overall well-being.

We didn’t end up where we are overnight, and it won’t change that quickly either. But every small step we take creates a ripple effect. The more we do individually and collectively, the faster change can happen.

Imagine what life could look like if we stopped confusing frenzy with efficiency. Meaningful progress sounds a lot better than whack-a-mole workdays and burned out nights.

Just like accomplishing anything, it starts with a decision: to question the habits that keep me in chaos or to adopt a calmer, more intentional way of working.

Which way will you go?

Wednesday, November 27, 2024

The Opportunity in Opposition

 

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash

I’ve spent nearly my entire life living in Utah, USA, where the winters are cold, so when I stepped off the plane on February 19, 1998, in Guatemala City, the warmth immediately told me I wasn’t in Utah anymore.

I was almost a head taller than everyone around me, and they were speaking a language that was supposed to be Spanish. I didn’t understand a word, even though I studied Spanish for five years prior to getting off that plane.

I arrived at the house where we would stayed that first night. There were two seasoned volunteers that shepherded the newcomers. They told us story after story of some of the terrible things they had experienced.

I lay awake late into the night wondering what I had done. A large spider web in the corner of my room held, I was sure, some creature that would descend in the night and suck me dry.

Funny thing, though. I didn’t get sucked dry that night. The sun came up like it always did, and I spent the next nearly two years serving and teaching the people in Guatemala.

While I was there, Hurricane Mitch swept across Central America. Guatemala wasn’t devastated like some other countries, but because large communities were built from little more than sticks, tarps, and corrugated material, thousands of structures were destroyed, leaving those who were already destitute homeless.

We were privileged to have a safe place to sleep every night and never went without food. Hundreds of thousands of people struggled to meet their most basic needs.

It’s hard to watch the suffering of others and not want to do something, anything, everything, to lessen their burdens. While suffering is a part of life, I also acknowledge the privilege I enjoy when I can walk to a cabinet in my home and get Ibuprofen when I have a headache.

Stating the obvious: every person will, at times and seasons, suffer. Some suffer little and some intensely. In my opinion, it’s nobody’s place to offer unsolicited advice to someone who suffers.

Even so, Dan Pedersen said something thought-provoking in relation to suffering:

I think there’s a message in suffering. That as real as suffering may seem, it’s actually an illusion. Or that it’s a temporary means to a better end. In other words, the suffering still occurs — we experience the pain, but it’s not the ultimate reality. That it pales in comparison to the ultimate reality.

The “ultimate reality” he’s talking about comes from the lessons that we learn from suffering. Introspection can be hard during and following the suffering. Sometimes, the only lesson we learn is that we want to put the experience behind us.

However, there are times when intentionally looking for lessons can be eye-opening. Often, the lessons learned in the “furnace of affliction” are far more impactful than the lessons that come from sunshine and roses.

I’m not sure anyone welcomes suffering, but it’s one of those things that can be a profound teacher. I didn’t know what I would find when I went to Guatemala — either in the world around me or inside myself. Being there taught me to look past the immediate discomfort, past my fear of blood-sucking spiders in the dark or the helplessness I felt witnessing immense poverty. On some level, witnessing that kind of difficulty helped me begin to understand how resilient people really are.

Dan Pedersen’s words ring true because they highlight a paradox: there’s no question that suffering is real, yet it’s never permanent. Suffering forces us to acknowledge that life is fragile and strong, perhaps in equal measure.

The “ultimate reality” is not the suffering but what’s beyond the horizon: the growth, empathy, and clarity it can bring.

It’s not always easy — or even possible — to find meaning in pain, but the effort to seek it can shape us in profound and unexpected ways.

Sunday, November 24, 2024

Just Make the Lasagna

 

Photo by David Trinks on Unsplash

In High School, my best friend and I knew that in order to increase the likelihood that girls would want to go out with us we needed to do two things: learn to cook and watch all the Anne of Green Gables movies which were hugely popular when I was in my dating years.¹

It was in a Tenth Grade foods class that we learned to bake lasagna from scratch, including making our own noodles. We worked on mastering the recipe as it was often tricky to avoid making noodles that were either too hard or too rubbery.

But, it wasn’t until just after we graduated from High School that we got to try that recipe out on a few young ladies who agreed to enjoy an evening with a home-cooked meal, some games, and Disney’s Hercules.

Of course, I couldn’t have known at the time that the lovely young lady I invited on that date would someday be my wife. I am certain, however, that my ability to cook was one of the things that won her parents over when she was still on the fence about me.

Back then, I rarely hesitated in making a decision about something. I was either going to do it or I wasn’t. When several of my friends decided to go cliff jumping at a lake not too far from home, it was easy for me to recuse myself. I didn’t care that they called me “chicken” for not wanting to do it. My fear of heights at the time made it an easy decision.

As I got older, certain doubts crept in. Indecision became the norm in many difficult circumstances.

Decision paralysis is something that impacts a lot of people. It’s when you’re stuck in a mental loop of overthinking, weighing options, or fearing the wrong choice to the point where you can’t actually make a decision. It’s like having too many tabs open in your brain and not being able to click on any of them.

While it’s important to weigh options when making tough decisions, spending vast amounts of time exploring all the options often won’t lead to a differentiated outcome. It’s a bit like reading 100 lasagna recipes then expecting to make the best lasagna ever on your first try. Making a great lasagna requires a lot of effort, especially when you’re making some of the ingredients yourself.

Sometimes, you make decisions that are part of an iterative process. If you try something and it doesn’t work, you can back up a few steps and try again. While some of those mistakes made can be costly, it’s important to remember the value of what you learn along the way. As the adage goes, you learn more from your mistakes than your successes.

What about big, life-altering decisions that don’t have an iterative process, like getting married or deciding to bring children into the equation?² Many times, these can be really hard decisions, and I don’t want to diminish the struggle that sometimes takes place in making those decisions. However, there does come a time when you have to make the lasagna. Of course, that metaphorical lasagna might also be a decision not to make the lasagna.

You might decide to take the new job or you might make the decision not to take it. Both are decisions with different outcomes. The important thing is to make the decision.

Here are some practical tips on getting out of decision paralysis:

The first time I made lasagna noodles from scratch, they ended up harder than the countertop where I rolled them out, but I had to start somewhere. Not every decision will lead to a perfect outcome. Another adage is that mistakes are part of life. It’s important to focus on progress rather than perfection. As the wise Rafiki once said, “Ah yes! The past can hurt, but the way I see it, you can either run from it or learn from it.”

Sometimes, when the decision is among several things, it’s good to begin with an exercise of limiting the list by asking the question, “Which one of these would I have the hardest time living without?” then eliminating the options that don’t hold as much value to you. Getting the list down to two or three options improves the chance of avoiding decision paralysis early on because this forces you to evaluate the merit of each option.

Frame the decision as a learning opportunity. Instead of obsessing over the “right” or “wrong” choice, ask yourself: What will I gain or learn from this step, even if it doesn’t work out like I planned? This’ll shift your focus from fear to growth.

For decisions that feel overwhelming, start with one small action. Maybe you’re not going to make the whole lasagna today, but you’re just going to work on the noodles. You might spend a little money experimenting, but that’s better than spending a lot only to find out it was a bad choice. Each small step builds momentum toward the big decision or helps you see the flaws early on in your plan.

Decisions — big and small — are like making lasagna. You can spend endless hours perfecting the recipe in your mind, but at some point, you’ve got to roll up your sleeves and start cooking. Most of the time, the noodles won’t be perfect, and that’s okay. Remember, progress is more valuable than perfection, and even the less-than-ideal outcomes are opportunities to learn and grow.

At the end of the day, the only bad decision is refusing to make one. Action, however imperfect, will always move you forward.³

¹ I still date my wife regularly. My personal philosophy is that is incredibly important for maintaining a strong, healthy relationship, especially where there are five kids involved.

² There’s a growing sentiment which I vehemently oppose that marriage is an iterative process. . .just keep trying until you find “the right one,” also that kids are optional.

³ Unless the decision you made had the potential for deleterious effects on your life and you chose the path of lower intelligence.

Friday, November 22, 2024

The Problem with Overlooking Yourself for Others

 

Photo by Fares Hamouche on Unsplash

I rolled over on the concrete floor where I had been sleeping, the thin bedroll doing nothing to lessen the ache in my hips. It sounds like I was being held against my will, but the truth is I was in my office at work — overworked, exhausted, and neglecting myself for a job that would never really care about me.

That was two jobs and a lifetime ago when I let myself be so overworked that I spent 15 to 20 hours a day on the job for more than 15 weeks. I wasn’t saving lives or fighting for a noble cause — I worked for a fluid power distributor. My tasks? Reconcile the company’s entire inventory and implement a new IT infrastructure. By day, I counted inventory and barcoded shelves. By night, I worked alone on data conversion for the new software.

When we finally hired a system administrator, my workload dropped to only 80 hours a week, which felt like a relief.

One night, after working until 2 a.m., I collapsed into my hotel bed for three hours of sleep before starting a 180-mile drive home. Running on two energy drinks, I made it, but by the time I arrived, I was shaking uncontrollably. Shortly after that, I learned that consuming 40 ounces of energy drink poison and sitting still for hours can be lethal.

I was lucky. But not everyone is. Many of us sacrifice our health and well-being everyday — not out of necessity, but because we’ve been conditioned to believe it’s the price of success.

It took me years to learn that when you sacrifice your well-being to meet impossible demands, you’re always the one who loses.

Eve Arnold, whom I quote a lot, recently wrote, “Most people never discover their best work because they are too busy looking at the scoreboard, too focused on numbers, and too attached to the politics of doing well.

“Really it’s neglect. To overlook yourself for others is missing the only opportunity you ever have.”

Come again?

“Really it’s neglect. To overlook yourself for others is missing the only opportunity you ever have.”

There’s a societal norm that almost ennobles self-neglect, but it’s a sacrifice that never really pays off. Now, that doesn’t mean we should shift toward self-centered focus either. It doesn’t mean that we ignore the needs of others in order to accomplish our own goals and objectives. Life has little meaning when serving others isn’t part of it, but we also have to take time to care for ourselves.

That’s not always easy. I’ve referenced time and again the difficult circumstances so many people face in the world today. For some, it’s nearly impossible to devote more than a few minutes to themselves each day.

But there’s value in those few minutes. Too often, we fill our rare moments of downtime with distractions — scrolling endlessly, consuming noise, and missing the chance to rest or invest in ourselves.

Fifteen minutes a day doing something engaging compounds to more than 90 hours over the course of a year. In 90 hours, you can read about 3,000 pages of printed material. In 90 hours, you can learn the basics of a new language or instrument. You can lift hundreds of people. You can put the phone down and embrace the silence.

Fifteen minutes a day might be all you need to stay grounded in this crazy world we live in with talking heads screaming louder than ever. Mike Duncan once wrote, “The winds may howl, but I will not be swept away.”

That’s what fifteen minutes a day might do for you: keep you from being swept away as the winds seem to howl louder and louder with each passing day.

So many of us live like we’re running a race we didn’t intentionally enter, letting the demands of work and life dictate how we spend our time. When we neglect ourselves, we’re the ones who lose. And for what? A pat on the back? A bigger number on a paycheck? The approbation of people who won’t be there to carry us when we collapse?

Demands will always come. Winds will always howl. But we’re not machines. We can’t let ourselves be swept away by expectations that demand our well-being as their price.

Fifteen minutes a day might not seem like much, but it is. It’s a lifeline. I don’t know who said it but I love the thought that a few moments of self-care are “a rebellion against the noise that tells us we don’t have time to breathe, rest, or grow. It’s a declaration that your life is more than a to-do list or adding to someone’s bottom line.”

Take an appropriate amount of time — even if it’s only a few minutes — to care for yourself. Protect that time fiercely.

  • Read something that inspires you.
  • Learn something that uplifts you.
  • Sit in the silence, letting the world spin without you for just a moment.

Deep down, we all know that at the end of it all, the opportunity to care for ourselves isn’t just an indulgence. It’s a responsibility that we owe to ourselves and those we love.

Wednesday, November 20, 2024

Believe In the Beauty of Your Dreams

 

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

I was on the cusp of my teenage years when Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park, was released. I didn’t learn about it until I had just turned thirteen. As a voracious reader, and also somebody who still loves dinosaurs, it was a book I knew I had to read.

So much so that I read the entire novel two times in three days.

I dreamed of becoming a Genetics Engineer like Henry Wu or a Chaos Theorist (Chaotician?) like Ian Malcolm.

In my 9th grade English class, I led a two-day debate on the ethics of genetics engineering. I also studied chaos theory and ran fractal generation programs on my 486 processor that would sometimes take 96 hours to generate.

Spoiler alert! I didn’t grow up to be a Geneticist, but I know one. I also didn’t come to master chaos theory. I instead opted to study Mechanical Engineering where I knew I would one day build incredible machines to help those with severe mobility challenges better navigate the world.

Second spoiler alert! I did graduate from university with a degree in mechanical engineering, but have never worked as a Mechanical Engineer.

Instead, I went on to work with companies that specialize in distribution. For a time, I actually sold toilet paper. Now, my day job is with a company that installs solar panels for agricultural businesses and by night I write on Medium and create cool software solutions for small businesses.

I love this phrase which I often quote to people when helping solve complex problems with elegant software solutions, “English are hard. Engineering are harder.”

There’s a certain glamour in calling yourself an engineer. Perhaps it implies a level of intelligence above the average and a capacity to solve problems that other people simply can’t.

You know what’s funny though? The best engineer I know got his degree in finance.

Eleanor Roosevelt said, “The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” Here’s the thing, though. Most of the time, the dreams we dream don’t align with the life we live. Often, because of necessity, people end up where they never expected. We regularly work jobs that are not exciting to us, but they are jobs that pay the bills and help us provide food and shelter.

I worked for just over seven years for a wholesale company that sold toilet paper and cleaning supplies to small janitorial distributors. At its peak, we employed only eleven people. And you know what? I loved it! It was a great job. The culture of our little company was great. We rarely had to deal with personnel issues, and everyone there worked hard to make sure our customers were happy with their window cleaner, mops, and scrub brushes.

Glamorous? Absolutely not.

Fulfilling and fun? A lot more than you would guess.

What about my dreams?

While I was working on my degree, I married a woman that I am still so profoundly connected to twenty-three years later. We’re raising five beautiful children together who are bright and selfless in their service to others. We live a life filled with mutual faith, and we have a small group of wonderful friends.

If the opportunity exists to work in a job you don’t hate, that’s wonderful, but even if you do hate your job, with limited prospects for something different, perhaps there’s an opportunity to reframe your dreams.

Sure, work is important as a means to an end, but being the most successful Chaos Theorist in history floated away on the whispers of what’s not important a long time ago.

I didn’t grow up to be a “real engineer,” but what mattered in my life changed so dramatically, that what I dream about today is continuing to nurture my relationship with my wife, my kids, and the people closest to me.

It’s okay to hang onto dreams unless they become like the high school quarterback who could never quite move on with his life. Dreams are flexible, shaped by the choices we make and the values we discover as we grow (older). Even if our dreams don’t get fulfilled exactly how we imagined, don’t ever discount the growth and experience that come from living and aspiring.

I didn’t become the next Henry Wu, but the life I built with my family and friends is far more meaningful than I could ever have imagined.

The moral of the story? Believe in the beauty of your dreams — the unexpected ones that come from focusing on the things that matter most.

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Do You Know What You Value?

 

Photo by Chris Briggs on Unsplash

David Gerrold is a prolific sci-fi screenwriter and novelist. When he was about 23 years old he wrote the script for the original Star Trek episode called “The Trouble with Tribbles.” He’s also famous for having penned:

Life is hard. Then you die. Then they throw dirt in your face. Then the worms eat you. Be grateful it happens in that order.

It’s a bit on the nose but is a good reminder of the inevitable hardships of life. Seeds of opportunity can be found in every difficulty, and while we can’t escape life’s challenges, we can choose how to navigate them. The key isn’t avoiding obstacles but aligning our actions with what we value. This alignment gives meaning to our struggles.

Often, in the moments of our most difficult struggles, all we can do is survive. When we emerge from those trials, we can look back and find purpose in suffering, and that suffering can help us identify what we value because it’s easiest to see what we value when it’s taken from us.

Fortunately, we don’t have to endure major or even minor setbacks in life to take a step back and assess what it is that we value.

We’ve all either known people or been those people who have lost jobs and been unemployed for an extended period, lost loved ones in the prime of life, or had health scares of our own. Suffering has this tendency to peel back the layers of life and bring those things that matter most into sharp relief: relationships and real, human connection. Health and well-being are perhaps a close second.

I know a woman who has lived with numerous, severe health problems for more than 20 years. When her children were young, she was involved in a serious car accident that nearly took her life. She’s endured endless problems in her life than can be traced back to that accident. Yet she is one of the most pleasant people to be around. While the pain she deals with is often evident, most visits end up being about the person visiting and very little about her unless she’s imparting some wisdom about how to find joy in the face of such difficulty.

Karen Nimmo recently wrote about those who “achieve greatly” by “aligning their words [and] actions with the values an integrity.” She continues:

Those are the people we most look up to; they’re who we want to be.

It is frustrating how easy it is to lose sight of what matters most in the face of the noisy, trivial things in life. Why is it so hard to stay aligned with what we value?

From a broad perspective, there are four key reasons we get off track:

The lure of convenience and comfort.

There’s never been a time in human history when a higher percentage of people had access to the conveniences of life than today. We can have groceries delivered to our doorsteps, we can avoid physical labor using machines, and we distract ourselves with endless entertainment. The advancements in our lives are amazing and have improved our lives in so many ways, but they’ve also created an environment where even the smallest discomfort feels intolerable.

It’s pain avoidance at all costs, even when that pain leads to growth. We shy away (or run away) from things that stretch us and challenge us. We numb ourselves to the discomfort of difficult emotions (guilty as charged) rather than facing them. Those behaviors rob us of opportunities to build resilience and to grow.

The tendency to focus on immediate rewards over long-term fulfillment.

Related to the previous point, convenience and ease have led to an almost insatiable desire for instant gratification. Why save when we can buy on credit? Why cook a nice meal when ultra-processed food can be nuked in the microwave in 4 minutes? Of course, that mindset doesn’t apply just to material things — it’s also in how we approach goals, relationships, and personal growth.

Quick wins, fleeting pleasures, and surface-level success rarely bring long-term satisfaction. Real fulfillment requires our time, effort, and perhaps even some sacrifice.

Cultural or social pressures.

While it may not seem like it, convenience and instant gratification carry with them a kind of pressure to be a certain way that’s often made more difficult by cultural or social pressures that influence how we define success and even live our lives.

In Western culture, in particular, the current of the perfect job, a bigger house, and the latest stuff distort our priorities, leading us to chase goals that don’t align with what matters most.

This is by no means an original thought, but more and more we hear about the potential dangers of social media to amplify these effects, turning life into some kind of highlight reel where comparison becomes the thief of joy. What’s so interesting is that the filtered and polished in others’ lives create an unspoken demand to keep up — even if the race isn’t one you want to run.

In short, it’s a subtle and dangerous message: who you are is not enough.

Not knowing what we value.

With all that noise, it’s easy to lose sight of what matters. We spend so much time reacting to life — scrolling, checking off, chasing goals that look good on paper — that we don’t pause to ask: Is this what I actually care about?

We have to be fair to ourselves and acknowledge that sometimes we’re going to be unintentional about life. We’re just going to live the default without giving a lot of thought to what we value. The danger is, however, that we end up pursuing things because of what others expect, what feels easy or what distracts us from discomfort. Consistently walking that path leads to restlessness, emptiness, and a constant feeling that something’s missing from our lives.

Connecting with what we value is a life-long pursuit, but it doesn’t take a life time to figure out what we value. A few exercises can help us get in touch with the things we value.

One great exercise is to think about times in your life when you were the happiest or most fulfilled. If you answer the questions “What was I doing” and “Who was I with” chances are good you’ll find your values in those moments.

You can also think about the things you’re willing to fight for. Those are the non-negotiables in life that often hold your values at their core.

To paraphrase Karen Nimmo, “a life lived in alignment with your values is one of the few things that can’t be faked, filtered, or polished — and it’s the one thing that will always be enough.”