Quick notes to help you grow your business in less time with less effort. . . starting next week.
In this issue:
- Thoughts on Control
- Being Human
- Random Stuff
Thoughts on Control
- If you feel like you want to abstain or tell others to engage in some sort of austerity, you're not alone. In weird times we are attracted to what we can control. We all have a bit of Puritan in us. Recognize it and keep it in check.
- Studies show we’re happiest with our work when we feel like we're in control of reaching assigned outcomes, in our own way, using our strengths. Keep this in mind when managing people.
- The future is unknown and can feel out of our control. When thinking about it, re-frame any self-talk that puts future outcomes outside your control. "They won't call me back," is an example. Re-frame it when it happens, or you'll end up feeling helpless.
- Organize only those things that we use on a regular basis. Trying to get every part of our life under control is next to impossible and leads to exhaustion. Who cares if it takes an hour to find the paint scraper we only use once every year or two? We need to give ourselves a break.
Being Human – Nostalgia
"To most men their early home is no more than a memory of their early years... The image is never marred. There's no disappointment in memory, and one's exaggerations are always on the good side." –George Eliot
This week, some dear friends took us to a talk featuring director Spike Lee. It was a fun evening. The crowd was dressed to the nines, giving us lots of good people watching. We ran into a number of friends and acquaintances, making it even better.
Reflecting on the stories Mr. Lee told, the most endearing moments were when he reminisced about his mother. He credits her for his love of movies. His father didn’t enjoy going, so Spike went with her instead. He returned to stories about her influence multiple times in the hour-long interview.
Nostalgia, those happy reflections on periods of our life, plays a big in helping us assign meaning to our time here on earth. It’s a key part of the stories we tell ourselves. Soaking in it gives us a boost of meaning, even if it’s temporary. This is something for us to remember as the end of the year approaches.
This next week, let’s get wistful remembering the good times. If master storyteller Spike Lee does it, you know it’s good.
Random Stuff
“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” – Les Miserables, Victor Hugo
It's Anniversary Week in our household. As the day approaches, I’ve grown nostalgic thinking about the many years my lovely bride and I have been together. Reminding myself of the little shifts in behavior two people make to get along with each other.
Take bottle lids, for instance. In the first year of our marriage, I grabbed a salad dressing from the fridge and started shaking it.
All my life to that point, I performed a vigorous side-shake motion with dressing, like a bartender making a cocktail. I still do. I really mix that thing up, like a real man. My lovely bride, on the other hand, had simply set the lid on the dressing bottle, gently, like she might want to use it again. As a result, the lid flew off and dressing sprayed all over our little apartment's kitchen.
Everywhere.
Furious, I asked what she was thinking. Who doesn't tighten the lid when they put something back in the fridge?
She said something like, who shakes a bottle like that? Why in the world would anyone shake a bottle that way?
When our lease on that apartment ended and we did the deep clean, I peeked behind the fridge and there was still a splatter of dressing back there. Festering. By then I had learned my lesson and modified my behavior. Now, I always check the lid. Then, I shake it like hell.
Like today. I take the salad dressing out of the fridge, check the lid, and start shaking-it-baby-shake-it. As I close the door, to make my way over to the salad bowl, the plastic lid hits the corner of the door and busts into pieces, sending Caesar-style dressing around the kitchen. Up and down the cabinets, across the Crock Pot, onto the stove, and around the floor. It looks like a murder scene. It looks like I kept shaking the bottle like a wild man after the lid came off, but I swear I stopped when I heard the sound of bottle hitting door.
Most of all, it looks like a mess. Dressing everywhere.
I clean it up and finish making my salad. I walk into the living room to grab a book and, crunch. Another piece of lid. What it is doing out here all by itself, I don't know. I don't have the mental energy to figure it out. My head is filled with a sweet little voice saying over and over, who shakes a bottle like that? Why would anyone shake a bottle like that?
Good questions. Good questions.
