A matter of starting

It's one of those lessons that I seem to learn and forget and keep having to learn again...

There's some big task that I need to do and I find myself procrastinating. 

It might be my taxes, some piece of writing, or the work that goes into coordinating a community event.

And as I procrastinate, the thought of that task weighs on my mind constantly.  I may be doing something else or nothing at all (I've learned to procrastinate in different ways :p) yet I'm constantly thinking that I need to do this thing.  It can go on for weeks.  A constant level of stress and anxiety about something I'm not doing but should be doing.

The funny thing is, after all this stress, there's always a way out.  And it's not even that hard.

I just have to start.

Instead of thinking about the whole task in all its complexity, I just need to do the first thing.  The tiniest little first step of the whole process.  It might be picking up a pen and opening my notebook and starting a checklist.  Or looking up some information or sending an email..  Or dialing a number and asking a question.  It's never anything extraordinary or complicated.  Just a single action, which often naturally leads to another action, and another.  And sometimes that's all it takes to get the whole thing done.  And if not, I will at least feel so much better for having started.

And then I just need to do the first little thing to get started on the next part.

Not a final exam

I attended a talk by Amira Hass a couple of years ago where someone asked her if the protests we saw in Israel that summer would bring about social change.  In her answer, she said that social change is not like a final exam.  It's not a one time event that we prepare for, execute and then forget about afterwards.

That's true for a lot of things.

Maybe the problem is that we're in school for so long that we forget this.

Life isn't a series of semesters where you take a course, write the exam, pass and get the certificate.

It's about showing up every day and doing what it takes to make things work and make things better.  Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year...

It's how relationships work.  How businesses work.  How society and social change work.  It's how life works.

It isn't a final exam.

Changing the condition of a people

On how small actions can have a huge impact...

We recite to you from the news of Moses and Pharaoh in truth for a people who believe.  Indeed, Pharaoh exalted himself in the land and made its people into factions, oppressing a sector among them, slaughtering their [newborn] sons and keeping their females alive. Indeed, he was of the corrupters. (Qur'an 28:3-4)

This is the story of a people who were subjected to the oppression of one of the worst oppressors who had ever lived.  Fir'aun divided the Bani Israil, he suppressed a group of them, slaughtered their sons and enslaved their women.  It's hard to imagine a more oppressed community than the
Bani Israil at this time.

And We wanted to confer favor upon those who were oppressed in the land and make them leaders and make them inheritors.  And establish them in the land and show Pharaoh and [his minister] Haman and their soldiers through them that which they had feared. (Qur'an 28:5-6)

But Allah wanted to change the situation.  He wanted to grant them bounty and power on Earth and make them leaders of humanity.

Given their conditions under Fir'aun's rule, what sort of change would be required to take this community from being the most oppressed people to to being leaders of humanity?  It must be something extraordinary.  So what did Allah do next?

And We inspired to the mother of Moses, "Suckle him; but when you fear for him, cast him into the river and do not fear and do not grieve. Indeed, We will return him to you and will make him [one] of the messengers."  (Qur'an 28:7)

The first step that Allah takes to to reveal to Musa 'alaihi salaam's mother to nurse him and throw him in the river if she is afraid for him -- such a seemingly insignificant step in relation to the huge task ahead...

We should never belittle our roles in the process of change.  The entire process may take a long time -- generations in the case of the Bani Israil.  Allah's promise to them was not fulfilled until the time of Sulaiman 'alaihi salam.  But indeed Allah's promise was fulfilled.

Our position now is not worse than the position of the Bani Israil.  And as we have seen Him change their condition, we have confidence that He will change ours.  How and when and by who is up to Him, not up to us.  Our job is to submit to Him and do our jobs in whatever position He has placed us in.  And just as we learn from the example of the mother of Musa 'alaihi salaam, we should never belittle our role in the process of change.

What you do has an impact on who you are

Dr. Abdal Hakim Jackson was really trying to drive this point home at the RIS Knowledge Retreat in 2011.

We often think of who we are -- our personalities and character traits -- as the source from which our actions emanate.  A generous person will give generously.  A patient person will remain calm in the face of distress.  A courageous person will stand up for what is right even at the risk of personal harm.  And people with less than desirable personality traits will do less than desirable actions.

Sometimes we use this reasoning as an excuse for our behaviour.  "Well, I'm just not a patient/brave/(insert any other quality in here) person," we say.  As if our personalities are carved in stone and there's nothing we can do about it.

The thing is, it works the other way around too.

Even if you're not born a generous person, if you keep giving and giving and giving (even if you don't feel like it), these actions will have an effect on your heart.  And over time, you find yourself wanting to give.  You've made yourself into a generous person.

Fake it until you make it...as they say.

So it's not a one-way street.  Just as our inner character traits affect and manifest themselves in the actions of our limbs, the actions of our limbs affect and manifest themselves in our inner character traits.

Not to judge

When facilitating group discussions or a setting up a good working environment, we often talk about a 'safe space' -- a place where people don't get hurt and aren't afraid to get hurt.  One of the ground rules of a 'safe space' is that we're not supposed to judge.

I've always had trouble understanding this one.  What does it mean not to judge?  Don't our minds make judgments automatically all the time?  Is it possible to stop these thought processes and just accept information without interpreting it, linking it with other things and thereby judging it?  Is it really possible not to judge?

At first, I thought that maybe the issue isn't so much in the thoughts but in the actions that result from those thoughts.  It's hard to control our thoughts.  We have a much better handle on actions.

Perhaps not judging really means not letting our thoughts cause us to say things or do things that make people feel hurt -- i.e. things that make people feel less or smaller or wrong or unworthy.  The actions may be very subtle and almost subconscious -- a scoffing, rolling eyes, subtle turning away, a dismissive tone, a condescending attitude.  Maybe it's not so much that we shouldn't judge but that the way we act or the words we say should not make people feel judged.  We should not make people feel hurt or belittled.

Yes, that's true.  We need to make sure we don't hurt people with our actions.

Then, I realized that we can take it a step further than that.  Yes, we can control our thought processes too.  Yes, we can suspend judgment.

It's a matter of consciousness.  And patience.  And humility.

Because to judge inevitably requires making assumptions.  You have evidence of A and then you make assumptions (based on experience or logic) that links A to B.  And you keep making links.  Until you come to the conclusion that a spelling mistake or two or three means that the writer is incompetent or lazy or doesn't care.  Ouch.

That's judging.

And it doesn't have to happen that way.  Sure, there's a spelling mistake.  But it could be there for any number of reasons.  And not judging means that you don't close off possibilities.  And you don't insist on coming to a conclusion. 

Yes, there's a spelling mistake.  But you don't really know why there's a spelling mistake.

This is consciousness.  To know that you don't know.  And to know that there are many possible, perfectly fine explanations behind any piece of evidence.

So you don't close doors.  You leave them open and let more of the story come to you. 

This is where the patience comes in.

It can be uncomfortable not knowing.  Because you realize that you're not in control.  You don't know. 

It takes some humility to accept that.

Ultimately, though, the truth is you really don't know much.  There's a whole life story behind that email.  And you can't possibly know and make conclusions on it based on the placement or misplacement of a single letter.

And if you can just wait and let more of the story come to you, the opportunities and insights and new perspectives and gifts that come through that open door can change your life.

Throwing 90s

There's a really interesting game that you can play to demonstrate strategies in conflict resolution.

In the game, the two parties represent two different oil-producing countries.  In each round of the game, the two countries can choose to set the price of their oil at either $30/barrel, $60/barrel or $90/barrel.

If the two countries set their prices at different levels, the one that sets their prices lower will sell much, much more oil.

If the two countries set their oil prices at the same level, they'll have equal profits.

Clearly, in the long term, it's in everyone's best interest to sell oil at $90/barrel all the time.

The two countries, however, do not communicate with each other.  They set their oil prices independently.  All they can do is look at the past history of oil prices from previous rounds and then use that to decide the price for this round.

So, how does a country maximize profits?

And when a country sets the price of oil at a certain level one round, what message does it send to the other country for the next round?

What happens if you set prices at $90/barrel one round and the other country sets it at $60?  What if the other country set their price to $30?

What would you do the next round?

And then the next?

Is there a simple formula or strategy that will result in the best outcome?

Is there a way to set prices in a way that builds trust between the two countries so that we can get to the optimal outcome?

It turns out there is.

This challenge was posed to a bunch of computer programmers, who came up with different strategies and the one that won turned out to be a surprisingly simple line of code.

Basically, whatever price the other country put up in the last round, that's the price that we choose for this round.  It's tit for tat, a strategy of reciprocation.

Originally this was the strategy that resulted in maximum profits in every game.

And then, someone came up with a strategy that worked even better.

This one said:

Whatever price the other country put up in the last round, that's the price that we choose for this round.  Once in a while, though, throw a 90.

So back to conflict resolution and human relations.  In general, it makes sense to reciprocate the actions of the people you're dealing with.  That's what the first line of code tells you to do.

It's even better, though, if once in a while, you not only reciprocate, but you do something unexpectedly good.  Throw a 90.

It's interesting that this strategy that holds the most potential for mutual gain, is also the most vulnerable position for the one offering it.

Learning, planning, doing

I've noticed that my work can basically be divided into three areas: learning, planning and doing.

Sometimes, I need to read books, watch videos, do some research, so that I know how to do something.

Other times, I need to plan what I'm going to do.  Before I start writing, I need to think about what I'm going to write.  Make an outline, plan it out, brainstorm, make a list, etc.

Then there's the actual work.  Where I'm writing the piece that's going to get sent out or published or posted. 

While all three components are essential, the actual writing of the piece is the hardest.  That's where all the stakes are.  That's the part that makes the impact.  It's where the risk for failure (or success) lies.

There's always a temptation to spend more time on the learning and planning.  They're safe.  And they're also essential.

The problem is that time is finite.  When I'm learning through reading a book or a report or watching a video, I'm not writing.  When I'm writing about what I'm planning to do and how I want to organize my day, I'm not writing the piece that's going to go out.

Yes, they're all important.  But the learning and planning don't amount to anything unless i actually do something as a result.

Misplaced attachment to metrics

I do this thing called 750 words.  You go on the website and you write.  And every day that you write 750 words, you get some points.  And an X shows up on your scorecard like a strike in bowling.  Every day you write anything at all, you get 1 point.  It shows up like a spare on your score card.  When you get strikes on several days in a row, you get badges.

Well, today, I logged in and I was disappointed to see that I only got a spare for yesterday's writing.  I expected to see a strike because I distinctly remember passing the 750 word mark in my writing yesterday.  Maybe I closed my computer before those last few words were saved or something.  I don't know.

Then I realized is that it doesn't even really matter.  I did the writing.  That's the important part.  I got to process some thoughts.  My mind feels a little less cluttered.  I got a little bit more clarity on a big project. 

Whether or not I get a strike or a spare or whatever the number of points or badges I get for writing is not the point. 

What's interesting is that because this metric is so much more visible and concrete than the clarity and progress I made through writing, my heart actually sank a little when I saw the spare instead of the strike, which I expected. 

It's very silly, actually.  Because the part that really matters is done.  The writing is there.  And I've already extracted the benefit of it. 

Yet, as evidenced by that heart sinking, I see that I've put far more importance to this metric than it deserves.

Cooking lesson

I cooked dinner today.  I didn't start the rice early enough so we had to wait a while, after everything else was ready, for the rice to finish cooking before we could start eating. 

I was going to use a large knife to cut the steak and, not wanting to dirty any extra knives, I used it to cut everything else as well.  I'm not so used to the large knife so everything ended up being cut more coarsely than usual -- the ginger, the celery, the carrots.  Whoops. 

Instead of cooking the steak first and then putting in the onions, I did it the other way around, onions first. 

When making the stir fry, I had the oil on pretty high when I put the meat in the pan, along with the marinade, causing a lot of hot splashiness.  Whoops.

In the end, the meal was fine.  And, with all the mistakes I made in the process, I got a great cooking lesson too.  Experience may not be one of the kindest teachers, but it is one of the best.

People fuel

Have you ever seen people contribute enthusiastically towards a project and then lose that enthusiasm until they're only doing the bare minimum to get by?  It's like they had tons of fuel and then it ran out, making any further progress painful and slow.  Previously enthusiastic team members start resenting the project and, sometimes, even each other.

I watched this unfold recently and I started wondering what happened?  What went wrong?  How can someone who is normally so helpful and generous become so reluctant and stingy?

My theory: people need fuel to work.  In particular, they need respect and appreciation.  Imagine working in a group where people are disrespecting you and ignoring your contributions.  How much extra work are you going to contribute?

It's not hard to give respect and appreciation.  It's a matter of listening to people's opinions and giving them due consideration.  It's giving people responsibilities commensurate with their abilities and resources.  It's answering emails -- even if the answer is 'I don't know'.  It's trusting people and not second-guessing them or asking them to defend every single decision they make.  It's thank you's and recognition of their contributions.  It's amazing how far people can go with a little fuel -- and how difficult it is to move forward when that fuel is missing.

I am the decisive element

Amy presented this beautiful quote at my toastmasters meeting a couple of weeks ago...  

I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element.  It is my personal approach that creates the climate.  It is my daily mood that makes the weather.  I possess tremendous power to make life miserable or joyous.  I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration, I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated, and a person is humanized or de-humanized.  If we treat people as they are, we make them worse.  If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming.

~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Courage and the comfort zone

I've always admired courage -- speaking out against injustice, challenging the status quo, doing what's right in the face of everyone telling you you're wrong.  That's what makes a hero.  Heroes have the courage of their convictions.  I've been reading about these heroes since I was a kid.

By definition, courage can only be exhibited outside the comfort zone.  Trying to be courageous while staying in your comfort zone is about as meaningful as trying to swim on dry land.  Just as swimming only exists in the presence of water, courage only exists in the presence of fear or uncertainty.

My good friend Nazima reminded me of this today.  Because they are frightening and uncomfortable, it is in those times when the odds seem stacked against us and we don't know how it's going to turn out -- that's when we have the chance to display courage.

Freedom and responsibility

I've been taking time off lately.  After finishing my PhD I wanted to spend some time thinking and looking around before jumping into my next big project or job or time commitment.  So, for the past few months, I've been pretty much doing whatever I want, whenever I want.  It's pretty awesome.

Today, it hit me that with this freedom comes responsibility.  It's great to be able to choose what to do each day but that means that I have to choose what to do each day.  There's no boss telling me what to do.  The responsibility of using my time wisely lies squarely on my shoulders.  I can't delegate it to someone else.

It's very easy to take the easy road and lose hours and hours to reading news commentary or watching YouTube.  But like that standing-on-a-hill analogy, although it's fun to run down the hill, it's not much fun afterwards, when you find yourself at the bottom.  I need to keep that empty, at-the-bottom-of-the-hill feeling in mind before I start down the slippery slope of YouTube or Huffington Post.

Freedom is wonderful.  But in and of itself, it's no key to happiness.  That key lies in the choices I make with the freedom I've been given

Aligned Personal Functioning

A few years ago, I attended a leadership training program given by Anima Leadership.  I've attended leadership programs before.  Several of them.  But this one was different.  This leadership program changed the way that I think of and work with people -- including the way I think of and work with myself.  I would even venture to say that it's changed the course of my life -- hopefully for the better.

The program was sponsored by the university and all the participants were engineering graduate students.  I don't know if Anima runs all their leadership programs this way or they were tailoring it for this particularly left-brained audience, but we spent the first half day or more of the three day program learning about emotions -- essentially, learning that they exist and that they're important.  Pretty basic, I know.  But to an audience of engineering graduate students, this pretty much went against everything we had learned in life up to this point.

We learned that whether we like it or not, we feel.  And, consciously or subconsiously (and usually the latter), these feelings affect the way we act and interact with people.  Even when we try to mask our feelings, people can often sense that something is wrong. 

Having established that we have feelings, we then learned how to work with them.  We learned about triggers and how the stories we tell ourselves can stir up and reinforce certain emotions.  We learned about leadership in a personal context, in a team and in the community.  One of the main things we learned was that we can function most effectively when what we feel, what we think, what we say and what we do are in alignment.  They call this aligned personal functioning.

Suddenly, I understood why I had such trouble doing certain things.  Like working on some projects or going to some meetings.  Often, I did these things because I thought that's what I should be doing.  I didn't want to do them.  I didn't really believe in them.

Now I realized why they didn't feel right.  And beyond that, my new found understanding of feelings and their importance gave me the permission I needed to not do these things anymore.  And, more importantly, to choose to do other things.

A matter of effort

One of the biggest things I learned in graduate school is that, for all but the most trivial of projects, there is a positive correlation between results and efforts.  It seems rather simple, yes, I know.  The more effort you put into something, the better the results are likely to be.

But in all my years of education up until graduate school, this wasn't what I learned from experience.  Maybe the assignments and projects were too easy.  Or I just enjoyed the work so much that I didn't notice that I was putting a lot of effort in to get the results I got.

By the time I got to graduate school, I had made an art of putting the minimum amount of effort into something to get the maximum result.  I saw it as a matter of efficiency. Since efficiency is output over input, reducing the amount of input required to produce a given output increases the efficiency. So, if the grading scheme is such that an A+ is anything between 85%-100%, I would aim for 85% and no more.  I would actually submit assignments, knowing that some of the answers were wrong, calculating that the amount of effort it would take me to get those right wasn't going to impact my letter grade. 

I cringe now, remembering this.

Anyways, unfortunately (or fortunately, when you think of the bigger lesson I learned), this strategy didn't work when it came to research in graduate school.  Unlike school assignments, where you can't get more than an A+, there's no ceiling on the positive result of a research project.  Every week, the brilliant people all around me who were putting their full effort into their research and presenting their results were putting the results of my efficiency strategy in stark relief.  It became clear that holding back on the effort was a flawed strategy.

It took me some time to accept this, though.  Replacing a habit acquired through nearly two decades of life experience isn't going to be instantaneous.  In addition to that, this habit was grounded in a pervasive belief in my schools growing up that if you're really smart, you don't need to try that hard.  Dr. Carol Dweck calls this the fixed mindset.  And it's not helpful.  I needed to acquire the growth mindset, that says that you can effectively make yourself smarter by trying harder.  Or that effort leads to result.

Anyways, inspired by Seth Godin's blog post, I'm going to apply this hard earned lesson and start writing regularly and publicly in my effort to become a better writer.