The fountain of life
I was eating lunch today in the park by a water fountain. It was just another sunny San Francisco day, although I was about to have a fascinating insight into some human condition.
The idle rustling of the leaves and the curious pigeon nearby was interrupted by the screaming of school children, all rushing for the water fountain.
Being a hot day combined with the generally voracious appetite of children, the line quickly grew into a impatient gathering of agitated little humans.
At first there was a line, organized naturally by the group with little oversight from the teacher. There was however, a dramatic inefficiency not only with the flow rate of water fountain itself, but the speed and volume at which the children were drinking.
As the teacher grew impatient that the line wasn’t moving fast enough, the kids themselves started to urge those drinking to ‘hurry up’. Some children took quick sips in order to maintain order, while others ignored the cries of others and kept drinking. Peculiarly, these were the loudest of the group to cite impatience for those that were ahead of them.
One even thought the water fountain was a good time to re-wet his hair after his lengthy drink, angering the crowd.
There was a relatively even behavior between age groups, ethnicity and gender, although it was clear that the young boys with the loudest clothes/haircuts (must be the coolest kids) carried a different attitude and pushed the envelope further by not drinking quickly or frugally, even when shoved.
At this point, a second group of children arrived and there was complete chaos.
The teacher decided to install a countdown system and give each student three seconds to complete their drink. This aided the efficiency considerably, particularly when two children of the group who assumed a policing role to support their teacher’s counting.
The girls on average became more compliant and took drinks that finished either before the last number or right on the dot. Some boys would meet the three second condition, but most would always try to steal another second or two, checking for their teacher’s attention out of the corner of their eye.
While there was a lot of subjectivity to my observation (including my own biases), and there was no doubt differences in levels of thirst, mouth position and button control, it was a fascinating observation of human behavior, group dynamics, social conditioning and hierarchy.
None of the teachers took a drink.
As the group dwindled down to one last student, I watched her intently. She had stood at the water fountain the entire time watching and waiting. Quietly and confidently opening her bag, she pulled out a water bottle and negotiated with the teacher that she would be ten seconds in exchange for her patient behavior – seven more more than her counterparts!
Filling her water bottle up to the brim, she caught up with her friend and offered a sip, buying immediate social currency.
Her tactical negotiation for 2.3x time yielded a 200x return in volume, a deepened relationship, and a desirable and distributable product.
If you could watch a group of people, observe their behaviors and predict their futures based on raw behavior, I first hand saw future enforcers, rule breakers, obedient followers, opportunists, and an entrepreneur.
Why you need to stop, look, and listen.
A sponge is just as valuable dry, as it is wet.
When it’s dry, it’s ready to soak up a spill. When it’s wet, it’s holding the spill. There’s an ebb and flow to the process of using a sponge. You soak up the spill, you wring it out, you soak up some more spill, and continue until it’s dry.
Our brains and bodies are much like sponges. We experience moments of feeling full and empty in energy, information, and emotion. We absorb and we wring. We receive input and we broadcast output.
However when it comes to the soaking and wringing process for our emotional minds, it seems we are trying to outsmart this simple process.
I have known many workaholic friends who define productivity simply from the act of constant output, often with low concern for what they consider ‘meaningless input.’
Many can’t fathom how going to the zoo could make them a better manager. Or how planting a tree could teach them anything about accounting. What if spending afternoon tea with your grandma could be the key to your project? It all seems like a waste of time.
By spending all your energy and focus on transmitting output, you can’t stop long enough to receive input. It’s like the person who never lets you finish your sentence or fills the silence with words; they end up just missing out on the sage of advice that you or some contemplation has to offer.
To many, conversations about sleeping eight hours, working out, a good diet, creative outlets, or just taking time out to disconnect from stimulus and stimulant are often seen to be luxuries to be enjoyed by either those who don’t need to work, are lazy, or who ‘have nothing better to do’.
They aren’t considered to be critical components to producing quality work even though they are continuously proven to improve creativity, brain activity, alertness and general decision making skills.
Sadly, there’s a significant social disconnect between activities for regeneration and fabrication. As a result, we often miss the gift of life’s wisdom hidden in our resting activities, too busy consumed by the guilt of ‘not working’.
The idea of resting after working isn’t supposed to be considered as a bonus. Resting is the opposite of working, designed to restore equilibrium and perspective. Without it, our work becomes distorted and even counter-productive.
Similarly, all play and no work can also create a disconnect with productivity. We can get stuck inside introspection, unable to produce.
If time and rest are key to healing a broken heart or a broken body, what makes you think that your mind is any different?
Challenge: Wring out your sponge every day for at least two hours.
Ditch any environment that you’ll be tempted to broadcast output. Put down your phone, close your computer and close your mouth.
Instead, take your dog for a walk and observe him/her closely, sit to watch people and the world go by, watch the sea crashing or the flicker of a flame, prune the garden and feel the sun, listen to some music and hear every instrument or call a friend but be there only to listen.
Whatever it is, stop intentionally to observe and absorb the world around you. You must only receive input and resist the urge to output.
Let go of the need to prove your knowledge or abilities. Be happy and open to be taught what you think you already know.
Do something other than sleep to rest your mind. Listen intently, watch carefully and remain silent. Every day, honour yourself by allowing the world to come to you.
You might be surprised what you might see, hear, feel, learn and experience if you just took the time to empty your sponge.
Be imperfectly living or perfectly dead
My dog has a funny eye because he was born that way. My piano is covered in scratches and dents, but it was free. My guitar has a chunk taken out of it where I was rocking out too hard one night, and I whacked the wall.
I love my dog, my piano and my guitar. There is no other dog like mine, my piano is covered in love marks and my guitar has a story etched into it.
I too, have some scars on my body too from some operations, a dog bite, the time I cut myself open with a scalpel and the general remnants of being a stunt master.
It’s with these imperfections that we build and define character. We have a story to tell and we are differentiated from the human template. It makes us interesting, relatable and real.
The lost art of card giving
Once upon a time when it was a friend or family member’s birthday, graduation, wedding, after party thanks, or just good fortune, there was an elegant yet popular craft to wishing them well.
It was regular practice to give and receive cards with a hand written sentiment inside.
In order to give someone a card, I had to get out of bed, shower, get dressed, and go to the shop. I had to stand in front of a million cards and take the time to choose one that would be funny/serious enough without being offensive, yet still sounded like it came from me.
I’d quietly take a better colour envelope purposed for another card, and then pay the shopkeeper a mighty $5. Occasionally, I’d make my own card.
Sitting with a blank card can be a stressful event. Thinking of the right thing to say, summoning your best handwriting and anxiously preventing a mistake. There is nothing more soul destroying in the art of card writing, when you’re forced to leave a nasty corrective scribble or have to buy another card! It particularly sucks when you make an error on a card you’ve lovingly made.
Learn to master the art of gratitude with us
A friend of mine recently sent me an article on the value of gratitude in the realm of success and fulfilment.
The premise of the author is that one’s ability to express gratitude is a refined and honed skill, similar to a physical work out or any other learned behaviour.
Improving your ability to see, feel and express gratitude will have a positive effect on your outlook on life, your relationships, your empathy for others and invariably your happiness.
Like setting or changing any kind of habit, this needs to be a repeated and disciplined effort over a period of time. A few days ago, I established a group with a few friends and invited them to participate in an experiment with me for the next 30 days, recording our daily gratitudes.
When the paper’s crumpled up, it can’t be perfect again
The two things I like the most about song lyrics are ambiguity and simplicity.
Penned words about a lost love might not have been referring to an actual person but a loss of love for one’s self, their work or their identity.
The power of a well written lyric lies in its ability to speak into your listening, and to succinctly articulate your thoughts and feelings.
These short yet powerful phrases can help us to define a relationship, moment, feeling or experience giving us access to understand and feel emotion.
Home is wherever I’m with you
When someone close to us passes, a relationship ends, a sentimental item is broken/lost, a job is lost or even as we simply age, mourning and grief reveals itself as a lurking yet prominent companion in our lives.
We reflect on times that were, on experiences past and the impact these had in our life. These are our stories and memories, to be re-told externally and internally for the rest of our lives and beyond. They are the essence of our identity.
What we are grieving for doesn’t just include what we once had and now lost. It also embodies two other important emotional attachments: What we believed we had and a future we hoped to have.
