I have found something worse than quiet...Waiting. Sometimes quiet is inherent in waiting, such as not speaking until it's your turn, or being in line for the catalog searching computer at the library. (I did NOT say card catalog.) Being a Taurus, I often act like the proverbial bull in a china shop, pushing forward on what I want or what I see is the right thing to do, forcing others into a position to actively stop me if they have a better idea or see I am going in the wrong direction.
I *know* it's better to go slow at times and gather more input, and I am actually pretty good at it, but some times, dammit make a decision!
So if you could imaging my perfect hell, it would be in a continuous loop of waiting. No progress, no decisions, nothing new. Like the meeting that never ends and is just like all the other meetings we've had. You know the ones, where people forget everything that was mentioned at the last one. Sure, I forget stuff, but seriously? Every meeting? And if people don't want to get things done, can't they just get out of the way of those of us who do?
I know I'm not perfect, nor do I have all the best ideas. But trying something and failing in a week is infinitely better than discussing it for 6 months to a year and never doing anything. (Except in certain obvious cases, like heart surgery.) Fail fast and often, then learn from it and try again to make it better. The entire world needs to go that way, and its already started. Look at The Toyota Way (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Toyota_Way) also known as Lean Management. Continuous incremental improvement. Try something that makes sense, measure the before and after to see if you made a difference, and if not, try something else. Even better, let the people who know the work best try something new. Novel, eh?
Isn't the definition of insanity always doing what you've always done, yet expecting different results? Well, it's the same in the work world, and honestly everywhere else. So why aren't we all doing that? At work, try, just try, something different. See what happens. Play the worst case scenario in your head. Say, it totally blows up. You're what, embarrassed? Is that really life-threatening? Or at home, instead of always having the same argument, try something new. Start a point system to award people for chores. Play a game called "Finish My Sentence" in an argument to bring in humor (or anger, depending on the couple and their definition of 'new').
Just try it. What can it really hurt? And in the grand scheme of things, isn't the most minute chance that you might make things better worth a little risk?
And remember, even if you fail gloriously, at least you have great fodder for your next blog post...
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The challenge here is "quiet"
Transparency is an increasingly common by-word for passing the "sunshine test". That is, would you still do it if your boss/partner/mother were looking at it in the full light of day? Are you so proud of your accomplishments or so unafraid of comments that you will put what you have done and are working on out there for all to see? It is a concept rife with vulnerability, and hence, is very hard to find. In this day and age, when people can not only find out almost everything about you with very little effort, it is also very easy for misinformation to be widely distributed. So we get back to a core issue that limits people's willingness to be transparent: fear.
It is the utmost in faith/fearlessness/confidence to open your closets for examination. As a society, we usually assume that anything that is shared with the public is well-scrubbed of useful information, full of partial-truths (if there is any truth at all" and "spun" to be presented in the best light possible. So even when we are presented with information, we find it suspect. How then is one to achieve transparency when they will be perceived as lying before they open their mouth?
The answer lies in the other half of my blog title: Quiet. Think about it. What do you most notice about Zen masters? Their serene presence. They are quiet, contemplative, and they never need to push their teachings. We listen to the Masters because they seem to have found something we haven't, and feel as though if we ask the right question(s) or walk the right path(s), we, too can attain this enlightenment. No one is quiet unless they have a secret, it seems. But the real secret is what happens when you *are* quiet, calm and still - you are better able to listen. These Masters are not withholding the secret, they are embodying it. Be still. Be quiet. Listen.
Great. Doesn't the Universe know I have things to do? There are kids, partners, relatives, people needing me, me needing people, school, work, and checklists a plenty. What if, though, these things were not mutually exclusive? Stay with me here. We all know that a muscle gets stronger the more it is used. In a similar way, a neural receptor frequently accessed becomes easier to access (whether that brain process is a bad habit or a a good behavior doesn't matter). The more we do or think on one thing, the more that thing becomes easier to do. So, what if we incorporated the master art of listening into our hectic, insane lives? What if we could learn to be still and quiet in amongst the chaos?
Most people think of being quiet as necessitating a serene environment. You want to meditate in a place devoid of noise and light, maybe some environmental sounds low in the background, everything mellow. That's just asking for trouble. If you manage to create such a place, the odds of you being able to make a habit out of meditating for 15 minutes in the same spot at the same time every day are not good. At least, not for me. My children are too young to understand "Mommy's quiet time" and my own brain is constantly thinking of a list that needs my attention.
Alternatively, what if we allowed ourselves to be really bad at "quiet" for a while? There you are, sitting at your desk, and you look up at some reminder you've posted somewhere to remind you of a healthful practice. As soon as you see it, be it a picture of your family or an inspirational quote, take a deep breath. The kind that pushes your belly out when you inhale. Let it out. That's it. Just one breath. Not so bad, eh? Then you build from that. Maybe you breathe when you see it every day for a week. Maybe you work up to 5 or 10 deep breaths every time you see it. What you are doing is 1) building the association between something you have already identified in your life as positive and pausing for a moment and 2) exercising the part of your brain that knows how to focus and be clam. Once you have mastered that, you can start sneaking it in other places. Now we are just talking about breathing here, but being quiet is easier when you are occupied (even if you are just thinking about an otherwise automatic bodily function), and listening is easier when you are quiet.
Now it gets interesting. Imagine yourself in a meeting which you have no idea why you were asked to attend. Your expertise is not needed, no one is asking your opinion, it's pretty much a waste of your time. Or is it? You have been given a gift of a moment to experiment with this new skill. That's right. In the middle of the meeting, breathe deep. No one has to know you just increased your oxygen intake. You can be subtle. Just breathe. There's a table in front of you and no one is looking at you anyway. Take that, crappy meeting! You just reclaimed those moments for you.
Then you're making dinner. Giving the kids a bath. Answering emails. Hugging your partner. If, at every transition you can, you fit in a deep breath, then it becomes a habit. I used to tell my nephews to treat every doorway they walk through as a moment for reflection. Did I leave anything in the room I'm about to vacate? Do I need to bring something with me to the next room, like dirty dishes? Did I turn the light off? Do I remember why I'm going into the next room?
And if we could do that with the breathing, taking advantage of every opportunity we think of to inhale consciously, not only would we be breathing more and deeper, and getting better at doing it more often, I firmly believe we would notice something else. We would begin to hear more. Why? Because we have stopped. We have paused in the middle of the chaos and did something unrelated to it and good for our physical and mental health. We have claimed that second as our own. And the very next second we are able to see and hear with more clarity, as we are not bringing the excess baggage from 3 second ago into this one.
I now take a deep breath before I speak to my kids. It helps me remember that they don't have fully functional logic chips yet. I do it before opening the door to my office OR my house. I do it whenever I feel stress. It now sounds like I habitually sigh. But I'm breathing. I'm breathing for clarity, for health, for quiet. So I can listen. Be serene, if only for that second. And to literally take a deep breath before starting again.
As I took a breath last night, I noticed my son looking up at me, quiet, wondering why mommy's eyes are closed in the middle of the kitchen with a small smile playing on her lips.
"Are you happy, Mommy?"
"Well, Darling, now that you mention it, I remember I am."
I don't know if I would have responded the same way if I hadn't taken that moment to breathe, but I did, and I was quiet, and I heard this awesome question, and I wonder... Can a 5 year-old be a zen master?
It is the utmost in faith/fearlessness/confidence to open your closets for examination. As a society, we usually assume that anything that is shared with the public is well-scrubbed of useful information, full of partial-truths (if there is any truth at all" and "spun" to be presented in the best light possible. So even when we are presented with information, we find it suspect. How then is one to achieve transparency when they will be perceived as lying before they open their mouth?
The answer lies in the other half of my blog title: Quiet. Think about it. What do you most notice about Zen masters? Their serene presence. They are quiet, contemplative, and they never need to push their teachings. We listen to the Masters because they seem to have found something we haven't, and feel as though if we ask the right question(s) or walk the right path(s), we, too can attain this enlightenment. No one is quiet unless they have a secret, it seems. But the real secret is what happens when you *are* quiet, calm and still - you are better able to listen. These Masters are not withholding the secret, they are embodying it. Be still. Be quiet. Listen.
Great. Doesn't the Universe know I have things to do? There are kids, partners, relatives, people needing me, me needing people, school, work, and checklists a plenty. What if, though, these things were not mutually exclusive? Stay with me here. We all know that a muscle gets stronger the more it is used. In a similar way, a neural receptor frequently accessed becomes easier to access (whether that brain process is a bad habit or a a good behavior doesn't matter). The more we do or think on one thing, the more that thing becomes easier to do. So, what if we incorporated the master art of listening into our hectic, insane lives? What if we could learn to be still and quiet in amongst the chaos?
Most people think of being quiet as necessitating a serene environment. You want to meditate in a place devoid of noise and light, maybe some environmental sounds low in the background, everything mellow. That's just asking for trouble. If you manage to create such a place, the odds of you being able to make a habit out of meditating for 15 minutes in the same spot at the same time every day are not good. At least, not for me. My children are too young to understand "Mommy's quiet time" and my own brain is constantly thinking of a list that needs my attention.
Alternatively, what if we allowed ourselves to be really bad at "quiet" for a while? There you are, sitting at your desk, and you look up at some reminder you've posted somewhere to remind you of a healthful practice. As soon as you see it, be it a picture of your family or an inspirational quote, take a deep breath. The kind that pushes your belly out when you inhale. Let it out. That's it. Just one breath. Not so bad, eh? Then you build from that. Maybe you breathe when you see it every day for a week. Maybe you work up to 5 or 10 deep breaths every time you see it. What you are doing is 1) building the association between something you have already identified in your life as positive and pausing for a moment and 2) exercising the part of your brain that knows how to focus and be clam. Once you have mastered that, you can start sneaking it in other places. Now we are just talking about breathing here, but being quiet is easier when you are occupied (even if you are just thinking about an otherwise automatic bodily function), and listening is easier when you are quiet.
Now it gets interesting. Imagine yourself in a meeting which you have no idea why you were asked to attend. Your expertise is not needed, no one is asking your opinion, it's pretty much a waste of your time. Or is it? You have been given a gift of a moment to experiment with this new skill. That's right. In the middle of the meeting, breathe deep. No one has to know you just increased your oxygen intake. You can be subtle. Just breathe. There's a table in front of you and no one is looking at you anyway. Take that, crappy meeting! You just reclaimed those moments for you.
Then you're making dinner. Giving the kids a bath. Answering emails. Hugging your partner. If, at every transition you can, you fit in a deep breath, then it becomes a habit. I used to tell my nephews to treat every doorway they walk through as a moment for reflection. Did I leave anything in the room I'm about to vacate? Do I need to bring something with me to the next room, like dirty dishes? Did I turn the light off? Do I remember why I'm going into the next room?
And if we could do that with the breathing, taking advantage of every opportunity we think of to inhale consciously, not only would we be breathing more and deeper, and getting better at doing it more often, I firmly believe we would notice something else. We would begin to hear more. Why? Because we have stopped. We have paused in the middle of the chaos and did something unrelated to it and good for our physical and mental health. We have claimed that second as our own. And the very next second we are able to see and hear with more clarity, as we are not bringing the excess baggage from 3 second ago into this one.
I now take a deep breath before I speak to my kids. It helps me remember that they don't have fully functional logic chips yet. I do it before opening the door to my office OR my house. I do it whenever I feel stress. It now sounds like I habitually sigh. But I'm breathing. I'm breathing for clarity, for health, for quiet. So I can listen. Be serene, if only for that second. And to literally take a deep breath before starting again.
As I took a breath last night, I noticed my son looking up at me, quiet, wondering why mommy's eyes are closed in the middle of the kitchen with a small smile playing on her lips.
"Are you happy, Mommy?"
"Well, Darling, now that you mention it, I remember I am."
I don't know if I would have responded the same way if I hadn't taken that moment to breathe, but I did, and I was quiet, and I heard this awesome question, and I wonder... Can a 5 year-old be a zen master?
Friday, October 1, 2010
Day 151
I remember in my Creative Writing class (oh, so long ago) that we discussed the importance of starting en medias res, or in the middle of the story. It's a great way to capture your readers attention and get them "hooked", ensuring they will continue reading. You can do retrospective exposition later...
So here I am after 5 months at CCRMC, an award winning public hospital system, trying to unlearn the things I have learned my entire life. I thought I knew about hospitals. I even thought I knew about CCRMC. I have discovered, however, that all my training was purely superficial. I knew a lot about the end-user experience, but very little about how things were run. The difference being behind the scenes is immense. Everything is so dynamic, fast-paced and merciless. People are constantly aware that lives are dependent on their actions, yet they can't stop and think about that or they run the risk of overthinking their jobs and might make a mistake. And there is nothing more scary in healthcare than making a mistake.
At CCRMC, they are trying to change that. I cannot express how refreshing that is. I have here been introduced to the concept of a Just Culture. Where mistakes are failures of the system, not people. Where managers ask not, "What did you do wrong?" but "How did we fail? What needs to change so this doesn't happen again?" It's an acknowledgement that if you have designed a system to be totally dependent on a single decision in a single moment in an unforgivingly stressful environment, you have set staff up for failure and patients and families up for harm. They..no, WE, have a different goal. Even if a mistake wasn't made, but it could have been, reporting is encouraged. System improvements are respected no matter who suggests them. Patient care isn't the lone purview of the doctor. The nurses, housekeeping staff, even the patients and their families speak up and point out what could be better.
It's like a breath of fresh air...right before rushing off to the next thing.
So here I am after 5 months at CCRMC, an award winning public hospital system, trying to unlearn the things I have learned my entire life. I thought I knew about hospitals. I even thought I knew about CCRMC. I have discovered, however, that all my training was purely superficial. I knew a lot about the end-user experience, but very little about how things were run. The difference being behind the scenes is immense. Everything is so dynamic, fast-paced and merciless. People are constantly aware that lives are dependent on their actions, yet they can't stop and think about that or they run the risk of overthinking their jobs and might make a mistake. And there is nothing more scary in healthcare than making a mistake.
At CCRMC, they are trying to change that. I cannot express how refreshing that is. I have here been introduced to the concept of a Just Culture. Where mistakes are failures of the system, not people. Where managers ask not, "What did you do wrong?" but "How did we fail? What needs to change so this doesn't happen again?" It's an acknowledgement that if you have designed a system to be totally dependent on a single decision in a single moment in an unforgivingly stressful environment, you have set staff up for failure and patients and families up for harm. They..no, WE, have a different goal. Even if a mistake wasn't made, but it could have been, reporting is encouraged. System improvements are respected no matter who suggests them. Patient care isn't the lone purview of the doctor. The nurses, housekeeping staff, even the patients and their families speak up and point out what could be better.
It's like a breath of fresh air...right before rushing off to the next thing.
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