Getting Up, Again

Many of my coaching clients think I live a charmed life. I’m so patient. I have such insight. How could my life not be bliss-laden and peaceful? When I sold my artwork at art festivals people would come up to me and say, “You are so lucky!

Nope, it’s not upside down, it’s a cold front reflected in a puddle.

You get to do fun things all day long, never have a worry in the world.” I learned to reply, “Yes, I do get to make art, and I’m grateful every day.” I never yelled at them, “Do you have any idea how hard it is to come up with idea and make a bunch of mistakes before your figure it out and then fix it before it works?” I did not do that because I would not have ever sold another piece in my entire art festival existence.

Other people’s lives seem easier, less stressed, not as hard, and certainly not as complicated as our own. That’s a better thing to believe than that everyone’s life could be sold as damaged seconds and someone else would be foolish enough to snap it up.

Everyone who is living a real life makes huge mistakes, does not learn from them the first time, makes them again. I wouldn’t want to work with anyone who has not risked and lost.

The reason this blog has insights, tips, Aha! moments and how-to’s is because I made the mistakes it took to learn them. All of them. Several times over. It is more important for clients (and readers)—to know that it’s not how often you feel stupid, but how often you get up, dust yourself off and start over. Learning is the heart of creativity, and risking is the brain.

So when the bombings happened in Boston yesterday, I did feel fear. I was in D.C. when the plane ran into the Pentagon. Yes, I felt fear. You did, too. What we (who are not in charge, but who feel unsure about life) can do to fight terrorism is to be fair to everyone in our work and play, to be kind, to be generous. That’s enough. Be the person who calms, not stirs the pot. Be the person who steers the conversation to interesting ideas and away from speculation.

We can’t control our fear when we hear bad news. But we can always control our actions in the wake of fear.

-–Quinn McDonald is happy she is teaching grammar again tomorrow. There is something solid about teaching sentence structure in a time of uncertainty.

 

Making It Better for the Next Person

Is the world off kilter, or is it just me?

My idea of how experience might influences behavior:

Running the gauntlet

Here’s what seems to happen instead:

Bad experience —–> anger —–> resolution to be fair when it’s your turn to lead —–> repeat the injustice when you get the power.

Instead of “I hated the short maternity leave when I was having my baby, I’m going to make it easier for the next generation,” I’m hearing “I didn’t have any leave, I don’t see why you should have it.”

It doesn’t sound like leadership, it sounds like revenge. Maternity leave is just an example. I’m seeing this vengeful behavior in mentoring, regulating job loads, hiring practices, loyalty, even fidelity. Is this improving life and work?

I understand how it happens. It’s well known that children of alcoholics often becomes alcoholics themselves, simply because it’s all they knew. Children with abusive parents often become abusive adults because it’s how they learned to handle power.

Must we now see this effect in business? Employees with bad supervisors grow into bad supervisors themselves. Time to break the cycle. It won’t happen at the top. You’re going to have to take your anger and change the outcome. Retribution is like stabbing yourself a thousand times to punish the other person. You can start to change the world today. By being fair, even when you were not treated fairly.

--Quinn McDonald is a life- and creativity coach who works with companies to develop a business culture in which people can thrive, not thrash.

Joining the Kindness Project

Jane LaFazio is a watercolor- and mixed media artist whom I admire a lot. I’m taking an online class from her right now, because I love her style and need some deep-rooted inspiration. What I get from Jane is that everything she does comes from her heart. She knows how to make meaning out of a turnip.

Jane invited me to join the Kindness Project. On the first Sunday of the month, (Jane asked me when my Sunday post was already up, so don’t adjust your calendar) you post a few of the kind things you’ve done since last month. Sort of like an examination of conscience (do Catholics still do that? It’s been a long time since 7th grade), but for kindnesses you have done.

I love the idea. Kindness is not easy, and it doesn’t come naturally to everyone. But when you start to list the kind things you have done, you begin to think about kindness more. And when you think of kindness, you look for it. And when you look for kindness, you find it. And when you find it, you pass it on. And only good can come from that.

Maybe you can’t force peace in the Middle East. Maybe you can’t get everyone to turn their backs on nuclear weapons, maybe you can’t even get that annoying co-worker to stop her passive-aggressive whining. But you can be kind. That’s what I love about Jane’s idea. It’s not complicated. And kindness, like a stone dropped into a pond, ripples outward. It rippled to me, and you can pass it on.

Here are a few ways that you can pass on kindness in a way that’s easy, free and heart-nurturing. I tried ‘em all, so I know they work:

— I’m standing in line at the post office. It’s a long line. I need one stamp. The woman behind me has three packages and a fussy baby. The baby smells poopy, like babies will do. It’s stuffy and hot in the post office. I let the lady get ahead of me in line. She has enough problems already. She does not thank me. I control myself so I do not long for that recognition.

—Same day, same post office, same line. I get to the window and ask to buy a sheet of stamps. “You have to go to the wall and choose the stamps,” snaps the postal worker. “Any kind is fine with me,” I reply.
“No,” says the postal worker, “You have to choose from the wall–pointing to the wall 20 feet away. “And then get back in line.”
“Anything you have is fine with me. Really,” I say, smiling.
“Next!” says the postal worker.
I leave the post office and buy a roll of stamps at the grocery store. I do not wish that the woman’s head would explode. I do not wish that she wets herself and her shoes fill up with urine. This takes some effort on my part to work out, as I have an active imagination. I choose to believe that she is having a horrible day, and the antidote to not being able to control your work life is controlling the customer. I am grateful that I know tonglin, as it is very useful in times like this.

—Drug store. Check out counter. The clerk scans my purchases and ask if I want to voluntarily send a candy bar to “a boy in the service.” I wonder if only “boys” get the candy and women warfighters don’t. I wonder what happens to the soldiers who are diabetic. “No thanks, ” I say simply. It’s not the clerk’s fault. Each one is required to ask, and I bet they get a lot of snappy answers.

—I’m teaching my workshop for the under-served. It’s a hard workshop with lots of administrative work. I stay in the classroom at breaks and lunch to do the administrative work. Often, participants ask me questions instead. Or just tell me the sad stories of their confusion and anger.  At the end of the day I’m worn down from being on all day. A student asks if he can talk to me. I fantasize changing out of my heels and sitting down. “Sure,” I say. He tells me his complicated, unsolvable problems. I do not try to fix him, or his problems. I cannot. I listen. I am empathetic. I hand him a gift card for the nearby grocery store. I carry them with me for just such a purpose. It will feed him and his family for today. Sometimes that’s all I can do. It may be his only chance at a meal for the rest of the week.

Most of the time, our first reaction is one of anger. We live in a world triggered by fear. Kindness is in short supply. Drop that stone into the pond. Watch the ripples. Report back. Or just watch the ripples spread. It feels good.

—Quinn McDonald knows that kindness takes work. But she feels slim and light on her feet when she is kind. That alone is worth it.