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Tag: present moment

Fear and two choices

Everyone has moments of panic.
If you don’t experience fear and anxiety from time to time, I’d wonder what kind of life you’re living. You’re probably not doing justice to your capabilities and talents or testing your limits. But this post isn’t about that.
I want you to pay attention to what you do AFTER those moments of panic and fear.
You have two choices:
1. Press on. 
Step on the gas and move forward (it doesn’t matter how slowly). Call it leaning in, fighting resistance, bucking up. I say you’re just going for it.
2. Ease off.
You’ve taken your foot off the pedal and/or you’ve stepped on the brake.
What do you do when you’re afraid?
Boarding my flight for Nepal, I was filled with trepidation and unease. I wish I could say I knew something amazing was waiting for me. I can’t. It wasn’t that I was afraid to travel around the world by myself; I was afraid of not knowing what the hell I was doing. There was fear and deep sense of anxiety, but I didn’t let it stop me.
I’m not unique. Many individuals have gotten on planes and found life-changing adventures — Scott, Eric, John, Tim, Hannah, Jim. Defining moments don’t have to involve travel, either. I felt this before my first dinner and my first project with Seth.
I’ve recognized panic and fear before many great learning experiences. There’s always something to lose, and your mind will come up with a million excuses why you will fail. The trick is finding a place of creative freedom and alleviating your fears just long enough to press on.
 

Inconvenience yourself.

New Yorkers and scheduling is borderline ridiculous. I spend more time than I care to admit orchestrating calendars, slotting calls, finding common days for in-person meetings. While there are plenty of automated tools to streamline this process, I’ve found that each person’s needs and requests are very different, and the act of scheduling itself can reveal underlying issues. Each day I’m forced to reassess my priorities and make decisions accordingly.

Yet with all of this scheduling and compartmentalizing, is there space for magic?

We spend so much time making sure things go according to plan. If something falls through the cracks, it’s a fault in the system — our system. The slightest tip of the scale can throw off an entire day, delaying planned meetings and cramping scheduled “me” time. Minor inconveniences (a late train, a forgotten document) suddenly become huge problems.

Ever pause to evaluate whether your intense regimen is adding to your anxiety rather than helping? Consider your definition of inconvenience and flirt with alternatives.

What would happen if you intentionally take the later train, let someone step in front of you, choose the slowest checkout line?

 

United by insecurity

No matter where your office is located, the ceiling can fall down. You don’t know when, but one day it will. There is even a possibility a car drives through your living room tonight while you’re sleeping.
We’ve done a great job fooling ourselves into believing we have it all figured out. We’ve worked hard to create predictable outcomes, studying to become masters of our environment. Data is plugged into spreadsheets, and dollars are spent on analyzing trends. Months are mapped out in advance. Calendars are scheduled to the minute. The year becomes a series of data points and action plans.
A soft mirage of familiarity has blanketed our world, producing a certain emotional numbness. We pick and choose what we want to feel. We pad ourselves from life with cars, TV shows, deadlines, large houses filled with things. The moment loneliness or vulnerability hits, we reach for our cell phones.
The irony is in all of this control and safety-making, we crave surprise and excitement. The tales of unpredictability are the ones we tell our friends. We sign up for marathons and Tough Mudders to feel something, to show the scrapes on our knees bearing witness of our participation. “Look at me, I’m living life!”
The moment you witness these tendencies is the moment you come alive. When you no longer cling to guarantees and you live in the challenge of each moment with nothing to hide.
This isn’t recklessness, it’s awareness. Some call it “mindful living,” the ability to observe what is happening as it happens. It’s not a need to know all of the answers but rather being in tune with the textures of your experience. It’s seeing the present for what it is, not what you wish for or as a result of what happened yesterday.
I often hear this question: “What’s next?”
I believe my flexibility in providing this answer has made my life what it is.
How wonderful it is to not know the answer.

Stop trying to find your purpose

We spend so much time searching.

The One, The Job, The House, The Car, The Experience, The Feeling, The Plan, The Salary, The Product, The Idea, The Connector, The Client, The Bargain, The Title, The Brand…

We’re looking for answers, assuming that once we find That Thing, the result we want will magically appear (happiness, success, love, fortune, fame, ease, contentment).

What if you stopped looking. Stay with me for a moment.

In Western Society, we’re taught that “A” action yields “B” outcome. So if I input X, Y, Z,  ___ should follow, right? (You fill in the blank.)

What if you channeled all of that energy you’re investing into finding That Thing towards your passion, instead? What if your excitement became the compass for your decision-making?

Chances are “your purpose” will appear when you’re not looking; not necessarily when you least expect it — because you’ll already be following your heart’s desires and will be so invested in your life and your work and giving to others that you’ll forget you were looking in the first place. Same goes for love.

Think of it less as a a fixed feeling or pre-defined experience and more as a rolling, morphing adventure.

Searching for simple

Here in Nepal, I’ve found the best moments are often the simple ones: quiet street corners, afternoon coffee, morning walks to the monastery, sunsets on mountain peaks, smiles exchanged with neighbors, the look on a student’s face when they understand.
I can’t help but wonder what America would be like if more people embraced simple.
Keep it simple today.

Be here now.

Chances are high you’re doing your best to complete several different tasks as you read these words. Would would happen if, for today alone, you commit to performing each responsibility individually and mindfully?
Slowing our actions can bring forth surprising new perspectives on performance and efficiency. More is not always best.