Stepping Off the Fast Lane

Can we actually just step off the fast lane or do we actually have to hurl ourselves off the fast lane?  Can we do it gracefully and gradually?  I’m not sure about that. I have been on a very fast train for a long time.  Oh sure, here have been some detours and some stops along the way but for the last twenty or so years I have been working at companies that are moving fast.  They’ve been early stage companies finding their way in a new market or they’ve been companies on a wild growth trajectory who have hit it just right.  Regardless, I have had a team of folks waiting for me almost every workday over the last two decades.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I love having a team and being part of a team.  I actually find it incredibly rewarding to galvanize a group of people to do great things and to come together for something greater.  But now, I am in a protracted state of letting go and moving into a new phase in my career.  My company has recently been acquired and it was a long time coming.  So I have had several months to let go, to savor the wonderful experiences I had at this company and to begin to ponder what’s next.

After the letting go, I have been trying to slow down.  I deserve a break.  There is no doubt about that.   And I’m determined to take it.  But this does not come easily to me.  My pace has not necessarily been frenetic,  but certainly super-charged.  So I slow down.  I allow myself to sleep a bit later than usual. Since it’s summertime in Vermont and the sun comes up early and chickens start their clucking early, I wake up pretty darn early too. It’s a farmer’s life for me.  But I don’t have to leap out of bed to milk the cows or do the chores.  I can linger and stretch and think and dream a bit.

I don’t have a big long to-do list, although I sometimes think I could use one.  I struggle with not feeling a sense of accomplishment or completion.  In my first couple of weeks at home, I was a whirling dervish of energy, wanting to clean and organize and re-arrange.  (pity my poor husband).

I yearn to bring order to the many things that I have neglected over the last 5 years or so.  Having just begun the book- “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up”, I am inspired to toss and only keep around the things that I love.

I find myself drifting over to the piano almost every day.  Is it possible that I might actually take the time to get better at playing- to finally learn to play chords after my early, formal lessons in classical music?   I yearn to be able to sit down with friends gathered around the piano and rock out to some great songs while I accompany them, playing the chords.

I have even felt some culinary energy return.  There were years when we had a houseful of hungry mouths to feed where I spent a lot of time in the kitchen.  Sometimes the goal was just getting something on the table and sometimes; I was actually inspired to create something special.  But that’s been a while.  I find the practice of chopping and stirring, and breathing in the smell of fr 

esh herbs to be incredibly therapeutic.

I ponder how long it takes to really change your pace.  How long does it take for the cortisol, the stress hormone, to diminish in your body?  This is a luxurious time for me and I am filled with gratitude that I have this time.  So I wander and I read and I weed and I sing and I nap and I write and I cook. The refrain swirls through my head-  “Summertime and the living is easy.”

That about sums it up for me.  I actually managed to get off the speeding train and I didn’t hurt myself when I leapt either.   I will likely get back on the train.  I’m not exactly sure when or what I’ll be doing.  But I have way too much energy and too much to offer to not find a new home for my passion and my creativity and my experience.  I hope if I do this hiatus well, I’ll have that much more to offer on the next go-round.  In the meantime, come on by for a meal or a song around the piano or a nap in my tent.  You’ll be glad you did.   You’ll be able to slow…..down…..

It's Just Stuff

There is a small ceramic sign that sits in our kitchen.   I'm not quite sure where it came from, but we keep it around as a gentle reminder.  There are two kinds of people in the world- the ones who collect and hold onto things and the ones who are quick with the heave ho.  I fall somewhere in the middle but lean towards the heave ho end of the spectrum.  My husband, on the other hand, is squarely in the camp of holding onto things.  Here are the kinds of things that "collectors" are known to say.  "You never know when you might need that tool."  "Can't toss that magazine. There's an interesting article in it that I might need to look up some day."  "I know we have an overflowing spice cabinet, but I bought that special spice years ago for some exotic dish and we might want to make it again."  Has anyone in your household ever rifled through a garbage bag in case something important had been tossed?  Don't get me started. 

Like in so many things, the Internet has had a profound influence on the need to collect ideas/books/magazines.  Who needs cookbooks when you can jump online and visit Epicurious for a quick recipe?  Who needs to save This Old House Journal when every word published in the magazine is now available online.

After cleaning out numerous houses in our family, I have watched the process of distributing precious possessions take many forms.  In our younger married days, we were incredibly grateful that my grandparents were leaving their big house at precisely the right time for us to inherit some wonderful old furniture.  We still have a large dining room table with multiple leaves and 10+ chairs that was passed down to us from my grandparents.  It's made of mahogany and has been the table where our family has gathered for many holidays and special occasions over the years.  It was the centerpiece for a lovely and elegant dining room in my grandparents fairly formal home in Pelham Manor, NY.  But now I live in an old farmhouse in Vermont and my tastes have strayed from formal to more country and casual.  My other set of grandparents cleared out their county home in New Hampshire, which held many antique treasures.  I was happy to receive many of them.  And then last summer, we helped my Mom clear out their big Vermont home where we had spent many wonderful years with our growing families.  That process took months.  This time however,  the timing was different.  We were not in the accumulating stage of our lives but rather were beginning to shed belongings ourselves.

My husband's family also went through similar clean outs.  A classic moment in our marriage was when I opened a box that my husband had shipped home from Oregon after helping clear out his childhood home.  He clearly had run out of time to really go through the boxes as this particular box was filled with telephone books.  The price he paid to ship that box could have replaced many of the treasures that he saved with a newer model. 

So now we are trying to begin the process of shedding much of our stuff.  The beautiful china that once graced my grandmother's holiday table has not seen the light of day in my household for years.  The old paintings haven't really fit with the decor in the houses that we have lived in.  Last weekend we actually tried to have a yard sale, assuming that someone could actually use this stuff.  I didn't really want to take it to the dump and while you can donate much of the stuff, even the most generous Goodwill store won't take everything.  We had sports equipment and dishes, a set of Irish glassware that we have never used.  I had several bags- one, a practically brand new Coach bag that I never really used. We had all manner of collectible and some beautiful antique frames.  We had two couches that we bought some 20 years ago.  I have been "over it" with these couches for years already.  The list goes on.  But in our part of the world, nobody wants china or even a barely used Coach bag.  Who needs them when you spend your days mucking about on the farm or hiking and biking through this beautiful countryside?

We finally found a guy who would come and take the leftovers away.  He does this for a living- sorting through people's treasures and trash and then re-selling items.  We all yearn for an Antiques Road Show moment where some treasure that has been locked away in a box is discovered to be worth piles of money.  He offered us a whopping $25 to take it all away.  He told us that no one wants this stuff any more.  Old furniture is just not selling.  Very little is selling.  We even have a salt-water fish tank that my husband had custom made for us.  It was very expensive and was a spectacular piece of living art in our last house.  But when we moved to Vermont, I realized that I did not need to bring nature into my house.  All I needed to do was look out the window and there is more nature than a person could ever need.  So there is another large piece of "stuff"- albeit very expensive that is in my garage, waiting to find a home.

So I continue to stew and debate- what to keep, what to chuck, which books will my not-yet-born grandchildren want to read.  Will the doll furniture that I have saved for years and years ever capture the imagination of a little girl again?  What about the grandfather clock that sits in my living room, not working, taking up wall space? Well that negotiation with my husband will have to wait.  These things don't happen overnight.  Of course if anyone is in the market for a gorgeous fish tank, the price is going down daily.   And as I keep reminding myself and my family- it's just stuff.

Fear of Missing Out

There is a term that I learned recently called FOMO which means Fear of Missing Out.  I learned this from some business partners, the folks at Eventbrite.  Eventbrite is a company that is in the business of promoting and celebrating all manner of events.  Apparently this is a thing, this fear of missing out.  This is a reason why many people actually show up to different occasions.

Consider the times when you have had a case of FOMO.  Was it a party that you were sure was going to be so much fun, so filled with light and laughter that you couldn't stand the thought of missing it? Was it a meeting or a conference at work that promised to reveal important information or where new opportunities would be presented only to the people in the room.  For folks like me who love to be part of theatrical productions, was it a time when a show was being cast and you were sure that the cast and the production team and all involved were going to create the most stellar,  most special experience ever and you absolutely had to be a part of it.

How often do these things work out?  How often is it worth allowing yourself to feel this FOMO?  Believe me, I'm a girl who loves a party and often is drawn to the center of the action.  I put myself out in the world a lot for many different reasons and I'm fairly certain that this dynamic of FOMO is at play for me often.  But I wonder how often it's worthwhile.

There are times when I probably would have been just as happy to stay home or mind my own business at work.  There are times when the promise of a magical production isn't all it was cracked up to be.  How can we discern when to listen to the voice inside that is whispering- better go, better get out, better join, better be part of it or you'll MISS OUT!  Is there a strategy for getting in touch with the real potential of missing out and the real consequences of what will happen if you do?  Are there times when it's more important to pay attention when the threat of "missing out" is a real one?

I pondered this question whilst in my garden today.  It was a glorious Vermont day and I was puttering around, looking at my various plants and marveling at what had happened in just the few days since I had last been in the garden.  I honestly could not believe how quickly my green beans were rocketing out of the soil.  (This makes me conclude by the way,  that Jack and the Beanstalk must have been a true story).  I am stunned at the velocity with which my new asparagus patch is taking hold.  Literally,  my few stalks seem to grow while I am looking at them.  And then I wandered over to my little fish pond.  I have a handful of fish in my pond and a jolly old frog who hangs out on the log.  And I also have a couple of beautiful water lilies.  When I walked by my pond early this morning, there was not much going on, but when I returned, voila, there was my water lily with a near perfect yellow flower opening up to the glorious day.  Now these are the things that I do not want to miss out on.  These are the moments when I know deeply that I want to be paying attention and I don't want to be rushing but rather savoring what is around me.

There was a wonderful story that aired on NPR recently about an elementary school in Quechee, Vermont that has what they call- Forest Mondays.  Forest Mondays are the day that the first graders get to spend outdoors.  My favorite part of the story was hearing how these lucky children start their day.  Each child has a special spot in the forest that they had found and claimed for their own.  Every Forest Monday they start their day sitting in their special spot. They sit quietly and look to see what has changed since the last time they were there.  This, my friends, is FOMO worth keeping.  This is what helps us keep our eyes and our senses open to the world around us.  This is what summer is all about.

The Legacy of Dave Goldberg Gives me Hope

If you follow the world of technology and the internet at all, you will have heard and read recently about Dave Goldberg, CEO of Survey Monkey and husband of Sheryl Sandberg, COO of Facebook.  Sheryl  penned the widely acclaimed book, Lean In.   Dave died a month or so ago while on vacation in Mexico in what seemed to be a freak accident.   Ever since, the internet has been awash with tributes,  stories, and blog posts honoring this man.  I never met Dave nor his wife, although I did read her book and my company is a customer of Survey Monkey.  Where I feel a bit of a connection though is that I did spend two years of my career in Silicon Valley.

 I was particularly moved by the blog that was posted by his employees on their company blog.   The words that they used to describe him and the legacy that he is leaving are quite stunning.

He was described as a mensch- " a yiddish term that means a person of integrity and honor, a stand-up guy, someone to admire and emulate, a rock of humanity."  Adam Lashinsky, a writer for Fortune was quoted as saying "You just don't meet many people who are talented, successful, bright, kind, humble, and universally admired and liked."

Clearly this was a man who touched many many people.  He was described elsewhere as a loyal friend and devoted husband and father.  A family man and really successful in Silicon Valley?  It's not often that you read about those two qualities wrapped up in the same person.  

So what is it about the stories of this man that gives me hope? My time in Silicon Valley was not a particularly happy chapter for me, at least career-wise.  I was there during the peak of the internet boom when companies were doing IPOs at a frightening clip and friends and colleagues were becoming overnight millionaires.  Sadly, that little bit about becoming a millionaire did not quite happen to me. Oh well,  I forced myself to be philosophical and tried not to look back.  But the experience that I had at that time was much more than about money.  It was about deception and greed.  I encountered  people who were anything but the stand-up guy that Dave Goldberg was described as being.  Don't get me wrong, I had many wonderful colleagues and friends in California as well.  The villains in my story were only a select few but the damage that they did to me personally has lingered for over 15 years.  The details are unimportant and in the end, I can look back and know that I acted with integrity and honesty, even if I was surrounded by people who were neither honest nor known for their integrity.   The greatest price that I paid was to have my fundamental optimism and belief in mankind shaken.  I don't mean to sound dramatic but neither do I want to understate how profound this disappointment was for me.  

I have since had a very successful business career with many wonderful colleagues.  Sadly,  I do still continue to see deception and a lack of honesty and trust in the workplace.  There are those who believe that the only way to get ahead is to look out for #1 and do what needs to be done to make things happen and be successful.   Well I would like to offer that a man like Dave Goldberg proves that you can be a "good guy" and still get ahead.  And better yet, you can be celebrated by so many people for the positive impact you have had in your career and in your life.  We should all be so lucky. 

A Letter to the Right Side of My Brain

Dear Brain,

And you know who I'm talking to.  I'm not talking to the analytical, logical, scheming left side of my brain.  No, I'm talking to the carefree, luscious, flirtatious right side of my brain.  You know, the one I've been ignoring for a while.  The one that is inspired to dream and write and take photographs and sing songs.  The one that is intuitive and a bit more trusting.  Now I could never ignore you completely.  I've still allowed you to do some dreaming and I encouraged you to be part of some wonderful artistic collaborations- most notably the production I just finished of La Cage Aux Folles.  But I was not really in the drivers seat on that one.  I was along for the ride and it was a thrilling and stimulating ride.

It I had my druthers I would probably choose to live most of the time with you, my right brain,  in charge.  I would be open to the possibilities and looking for signs from the universe.  I would be in tune with the energy around me.  I would commune more with the birds and the flowers and all God's creations.  I would choose to trust more instead of doubt.

Lately, I've had to do a lot of work with my left brain in charge.  I've had to become deeply analytical and focused on the "data".  This is no doubt useful practice.  It's not unlike the discipline required to get through those "required" courses in school.  I like to think that I can buckle down when I need to and focus and deliver information the way my colleagues need to get it.  When I invite my left brain to be in charge, I look to the data first.  I look for patterns and I look for validation.  But the most surprising thing has begun to happen.  I have found myself looking to the data, only to confirm what I had already figured out using my highly attuned emotional intelligence and intuition.  Go figure.

I have learned the important lesson that certain people need to get information in certain ways and in order to convince them of your point of view, you need to deliver the information in a way that they can understand and relate to.  Oh, would that the world would just sign on to my amazing intuitive powers and believe me without the dashboards and spreadsheets.  I know this probably sounds fairly traitorous to those who live for the data.  But remember, this is a letter to the right side of my brain.

Let's dream for a minute or two.  Remember that musical you were working on a few years ago? The one that has been sitting on the shelf waiting to be brushed off and explored again?  What about those book ideas that were floating around inside for a year or so.  What about the idea of creating a personal board of directors and writing about it?  I'm betting that there have been threads of ideas that have been percolating inside but without being invited into the light, they have stayed fairly hidden away.   Remember how much fun you had making those  beautiful wind chimes out of driftwood and wire and beads?  What about the "where have you been for the last 20 years project"? The one where you were going to connect with so many of the fabulous and inspiring people you've met along the way and hear where their lives has taken them and what they have learned along the way.  That's probably another idea that could end up in a book, or a blog, or a web series.

HA!  Look at you brain.  You're getting kind of excited.  I can feel your energy starting to bubble a bit.  You're beginning to step out a little and throw out your arms and your chest and smile at the universe. I'm not sure that I can completely put you in charge.  No, that might be asking too much. But I am inviting you to step into the light.  I am encouraging you to assert yourself a bit more.  If you want to play the piano and perhaps write a song, don't hold back.  You can do it.  I'm giving you permission.  No, I'm insisting.  Maybe we'll even go back to the desert in August to Burning Man.  Now that'll help you break out.  Imagine the possibilities.

Your devoted body and soul.

Lessons a Theatre Director Taught Me About Leadership

Apart from spending time with family and friends, there are two areas of my life where I spend the most time and energy. The first is my work and the second is the theater.  Like many dedicated theatre folks, I manage to find the time and energy to be part of productions several times a year, whilst still keeping my busy and demanding job.  One thing is for sure and that is that it's not easy to balance both.  But midway through our run for La Cage Aux Folles at the Emerson Umbrella in Concord, MA, I reflected on the experience and most importantly the lessons that I learned from our director.

This was no small production.  The sets, the elaborate costumes, the wigs, the make-up, the orchestration, the choreography,  all made for a very complex and challenging scene backstage.  There were wigs flying, fast costume changes, dancers hurling shoes in every direction.  There were prosceniums turning,  shimmery curtains opening and closing,  and sets moving.  It was all a bit head-spinning.

It's not all that different from the company I worked for at the time.  In my company, there were different departments doing their thing, priorities shifting, customers surfacing with questions and feedback, employees needing to work through issues and find solutions.  The backstage scene at the theatre is more intense and more concentrated, but there are days when things felt pretty darn chaotic at work as well.  I have worked with a number of CEO's and colleagues along the way in my career and have observed very different styles to get results.  Being a leader in a company is a lot like being a director for a production.  You have a group of people (hopefully talented people) who need to come together to work hard and achieve results.  In the case of a play, they need to mount a production and invite an audience to share in the experience. In the case of a company, the work and rewards are on-going.  There may be sprints along the way or big product launches, but the team needs to collaborate to achieve great things.

There are some very simple principles that I observed during this production, all guided by a very gifted director.  Here are the lessons he re-affirmed for me:

1.  Have a plan
2.  Set a vision and articulate it well
3.  Be kind
4.  Push hard for the results you want to see
5. Value every person's contributions
6.  Do it with love

HA! you say.  The "L" word.  Where does that fit in the workplace?  I'll get to that in a minute. First a bit about the first 5 on the list.  Our director came to the first rehearsal with a very clear plan, not only of the rehearsal schedule all the way up to opening night, but also his vision for the production and the time we would spend together.  He brought photos and imagery, he articulated some themes that were important to him in telling the story of the play.  He set a very clear vision whilst still expressing his expectation that everyone would bring their own ideas and vision to the process.  It was at once inclusive and inspiring.

He was incredibly kind and supportive of every single person involved with the production.  This is not necessarily the norm.  Tensions often run high in a production that needs to get mounted in a short period of time.  Maybe it was having a clear vision and plan that allowed him to stay calm and not get too impatient as we all worked to learn our part. And he pushed for sure.  He did it very nicely but he pushed us hard and set a very high bar.  The cast in this production were all very talented and experienced so everyone knew they had a job to do and put their heads down to do it.  But there was no doubt that the cast wanted to make him and at the rest of the production team happy.  He pushed hard and we pushed to deliver the results he was looking for.  Sound familiar?

When have you been in a company or part of a team who works hard because they don't want to disappoint their colleagues?   In the best companies and among the most successful teams, people are intrinsically motivated to work hard and to be there for each other.  It's one of the great joys of being part of a high functioning team.

And finally, what about the "L" word.  I don't use this word in a sappy, sentimental way.  I use it to express the times when we are seeing the very best in each other.  When we do not come with judgment but with a joyful anticipation of the goodness that we will find in each other.  Our director wrote a long email to the cast and crew shortly before we opened and it was really kind of a love letter.  He expressed something about every single person in the show that honored them and their unique gifts and contribution to the production.  It was impossible not to feel valued and to be inspired to do our very best work.

I  have often been heard at work saying that  "I love my team."  I have found that when a team, either at a company or in a play, can truly appreciate each other for our unique gifts, then the best work happens.  I have a sign on the whiteboard in my office, with a nod to Seth Godin, that says-  "Where is your art?  What are your gifts?"

So thank you Peyton Pugmire.  I am honoring you by name here so that when you get famous someday and are receiving some fabulous award, I can say I spotted your extraordinary talent early on.  Here's to leading with love.

10,000 Hours of Practice

Much has been written about what it takes to be great at anything.  In Malcolm Gladwell's book, The Outliers, he talks about how great artists and writers and musicians and yes, even business people get great at what they do.  They put in the time.  10,000 hours sounds like a lot but when you think about the people in our society that really excel, it's probably a drop in the bucket.

When you think about the great athletes that we have loved to cheer on, consider the hours and hours and years of practice that brought them to where they are. When you consider the books that you have read and loved, consider the months and often years that the writer put in to create that piece of work.

Right now, I am part of a production of Oklahoma with a local theater group.  Doing theater is one of the great passions in my life.There are a a number of reasons for that.  But this time, I have been thinking a lot about the responsibility that I feel and the challenge we have all set for ourselves.  We are a collection of people from all walks of life, from different towns, from different age groups with different levels of experience. Yet we come together with the same goal which is to work hard, to unite as an ensemble and to ultimately delight our audiences.  Perhaps most important is that we do all the above and have fun while doing it. In this particular production, I have a fairly significant role which means that I've had to work especially hard on learning my lines and my blocking and choreography.  I have felt an enormous responsibility to my fellow actors and indeed to the entire production team to show up ready to do my part, to remember where I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to be doing. This is not trivial in the midst of a busy life and alongside a demanding job.  How much room is there left in my personal RAM?  Seriously.

We are heading into the final stretch... what we call "Tech week" in the trade.  It starts tomorrow and goes right until we open next weekend.  We will sweat the details of sound and lights and hair and makeup and props and cues.  We will continue to discover our characters and the relationships that we have on stage with the other actors.  We will not rest until we reach the finish line?

Have we put in 10,000 hours?  No.  Have I put in 10,000 in my lifetime, learning to sing and to dance and to be on stage with my fellow actors.  Absolutely.  I could sit back now and relax, with a hope and a prayer that we've rehearsed enough and all will be well.  But that's not what I'm planning to do. I am going to keep going over my script and my choreography.  I'm going to think about our little patch of farmland in Oklahoma and the assortment of characters that inhabit it. I'm going to ponder what it means for the farmer and cowman to be friends.  I'm going to smile as I listen to the glorious music that Rogers and Hammerstein wrote so many years ago.  Now there was a writing team that put in 10,00 hours and then some.  Aren't we lucky that there are dedicated people in our world who put in so much effort?

I applaud them whether they be artists, technologists, educators or business people.  Sure there are those among us with extraordinary, natural talent who make it all look
easy.   But most of us just need to put our heads down for much of the time and grind it out.  Would that it could always be as much fun as doing a wonderful show like Oklahoma. YeHaw!