Taking Up Space

When it comes to impact statements, it’s all too easy to draw a line in the sand.

Are we making a difference, or taking up space?

This is a black and white delineation in a world of gray. Yet, the underlying message remains on point.

We’re obligated to make a difference. To contribute positively to our community. To leave the world better than we found it.

For our society is like an engine. The more its components help it run, the more efficiently it chugs along. The more those components sit idle, the more it drags.

To a great measure, this is unequivocal fact. Regardless our opinion of a social safety net or welfare, there is a cost that comes with providing opportunities. From paychecks to subsidies, nothing we receive to put a roof on our heads, food in our mouths or clothes on our bodies truly comes for free.

This cost is typically offset by the contributions we make to society, and specifically the economy. This could be 40 hours a week helping a company provide a service to the market. Or the generation of ideas or academic thoughts that allow the society to break boundaries and improve efficiencies. These types of activities provide balance.

But when we’re receiving this assistance while sitting on the couch, it could be argued that there is no balance. What we get is more than what we give in return.

Under this definition, we’re taking up space.

Now, opportunity does not always come equal. As such, we may be stuck on the couch not of our own volition.

Regardless, the optics of this outcome are not great.

So, our society often puts stipulations behind handouts. It requires all of us to at least make an honest pass at offsetting the costs behind them.

This could mean applying for jobs. Or filling out forms to explain disabilities that stand in the way of our opportunities.

The underlying message is clear.

As a society, we don’t tolerate taking up space.


 

I learned the mantra of making a difference from an early age.

I recall waving goodbye to my father as he got on the commuter rail in his business suit. Or how my mother dropped me off at school and then headed to her job.

Most acutely, I remember when my father switched careers and became a teacher. He hoped to make a bigger difference in the world, and make his own that much brighter.

A quarter century later, I’d say he has achieved that objective. And he continues to do so.

Following my parents’ example, I’ve worked hard in two careers throughout my adult life. I’ve taken nothing for granted. I’ve embraced each day with a sense of determination and purpose.

In the workplace and out of it, I’ve sought to make a difference. To be productive. Not to take up space.

This mission has guided the decisions I’ve made, both professionally and socially. My mantra of impact has led to my drive and my edginess. It’s filled my daily to-do list with a gauntlet of activities. It’s encouraged me to push my limits and take on more responsibilities.

Each and every day, I am following my mission. I am being productive. I am not taking up space.

But maybe I should be.


Living life as a productivity-holic has its own associated costs. (Is productivity-holic a word? I feel it should be.)

Most notable of these costs is burnout.

It takes a lot of energy to devote so much time to an agenda. Focusing on maximum productivity, on making the biggest difference I can — that constantly requires me to think of What’s Now and What’s Next.

The detritus of this focus can lead to exhaustion.

And exhaustion can weaken a mind. It can lessen its impact.

I have felt these effects loud and clear. Yet, whenever I have, another thought has come to my mind.

Suck it up. Keep making a difference. Don’t you dare take up space.

This is stupid.

Taking a breather now and then is critical. It rejuvenates us and unshackles our mind. It allows us to make our biggest impact.

Yes, taking up space causes a drag on society. But the short-term cost is more than offset by the long-term gain we can provide.

So, moving forward, I will start building these breathers into my life. I will stop viewing the concept of taking up space as heresy.

And I will continue to take up space here and there, as long as such endeavors are undertaken with a greater goal in mind.

While it’s blasphemous for one to prescribe the path they have not yet taken, I encourage you to join me on this journey. For it will provide mutual benefits.

Let us find our pause. And in doing so, let’s refresh our purpose.

The space we take up will not be wasted.

The New Dynamics of Power

Power has long been a hot-button topic. But perhaps never more than now.

Many prominent male figures have fallen from grace, as details of their transgressions have come to light — in particular, when it comes to inappropriate dealings with women in the workplace. Another autocrat has ascended to the Highest Office in the Land, and used his position (and social media) as a bully pulpit.

From armchair psychologists to Dr. Phil, there are plenty of people trying to figure out what’s going on. Does power give men an air of entitlement? Is a culture of pig-headed behavior in male dominated hotbeds such as Hollywood and Silicon Valley to blame? Are people naturally bad, and does empowerment simply provide them license to act in the disturbing ways they so often do?

The truth may lie in the answers to these questions. But I have a different theory.

I believe fear is what leads to this behavior. Fear of power, to be specific.

You see, we’re hard-wired to avoid gravitating toward positions of influence for two reasons.

  1. The expectations for leadership are too lofty. Living up to the standard is therefore an exercise in futility.
  2. History is filled with cautionary tales of how leaders have fallen victim to their own success. Namely, success leads to greed, which then leads to a swift downfall.

This toxic combination has led to a leadership void. People are hesitant to consider themselves leaders, because they’re terrified of the burden that comes with it.

Yet, plenty of people do rise to positions of power and influence. This is a natural function of a society obsessed with The Next Big Thing. So, we have plenty of people thrust into a position that they’re not ready for. One they’re actually terrified of, deep down inside.

The results of this conundrum are actually quite predictable. When we’re scared, we act irrationally, even immorally. So, when a person assumes a power position they secretly fear, there’s a good chance they’ll behave irresponsibly. And there’s a good chance that they’ll leave plenty of people as collateral damage along the way.

It’s a vicious cycle. One with no beneficiary.

So, what can we do to break the chain?

We can flip the script about what power means.

Instead of talking about the dangers of power, we can focus on the light it brings. On the opportunity to make a positive impact in the lives of others by using our influence to help put them first.

By focusing on the power of We, Not Me, we can make the concept of power more altruistic. And we can make the objectives associated with it more attainable for those who aspire to inspire.

With the new dynamics of power in place, we’ll be less likely to fear all that comes with positions of influence. And we’ll be less likely to tarnish the lives of others with our irresponsible actions.

So, let’s rediscover the magic in empowering others through our influence. The world will be a better place for it, and our closets will have fewer skeletons.

And that’s change we can all believe in.

The Great Contradiction

Nothing is ever as it seems.

This statement serves as gospel at a magic show, in the CIA or during a poker tournament. The illusion is part of the game. A necessary element to achieve the objective.

But while we accept shades of gray in these isolated environments, we fail to consider the greater impact of this phenomenon. Life is full of contradictions that we must not only navigate, but also learn from.

None of us are immune to contradiction. Heck, my advice is full of it.

Consider this: I’ve shared messages of selfless improvements in this space, and then gone and spouted off about the benefits of exercise. Messages like these run against the grain, as exercise is one of the more selfish improvements out there.

Or is it?

You see, no one else besides you directly benefits from exercise. Your body stands to get stronger. Your health and stamina stand to improve. Your chances of living a longer life increase.

But that added time and improved outlook, those open the door to indirect benefits. To more opportunities to connect with others and make an impact.

When you look at it this way, exercise can be classified as a selfish activity that sets a foundation for selfless results.

And this concept of contradiction runs even deeper in our daily lives. Our trust, our love, our attention all have limits — limits directly tied to reciprocity. What’s in it for us is a real concern as we navigate how to assist others, and how to leave the world better than we found it.

Now, I realize that unpeeling this particular onion can be unsettling. It’s not in our DNA to question human nature, and an inward focus has been key to our survival for millennia. After all, there’s a reason why Look Out for Number One has been a rallying cry that’s stood the test of time.

That said, it’s crucial that we get comfortable with this setup in order to build off it. For in a sharing economy, contradictions are opportunities to iterate. They’re opportunities to take an inward-focused concept and apply them in a way the does greater good.

So, we must look beyond black and white. We must consider the silver linings our choices provide in this strange, contradictory world.

When there are none, we should move on. But otherwise, we should feel obligated to act.

For sometimes, what seems like a worthless choice can actually do a world of good.

More With Less

I am a huge fan of the TV series Justified. For six seasons, the show brought a potent mix of vibrant characters, dark comedy and dramatic tension to my living room. It also brought this gem of a line into my consciousness.

“Boy, you say 40 words where four will do.”

Nine words of brilliance. Brilliance that cuts deep.

I am a writer. While it might not be the way I make my living per se, putting words on paper is my greatest talent.

Yet this gift comes combo-packaged with the curse of long-windedness. Indeed, I often say more than I need to in my writing; worse still, I become an unconscionable blabbermouth when I spend extended time with family and friends.

I know why this happens. I subconsciously feel the extra words will allow everyone to understand something I previously implied. I often have trouble deciphering implied meanings, so I aim to be an empathetic communicator for all who I can connect with.

But this strategy is foolish. Writing is about forging an emotional connection with your readers. Verbal communication with one’s inner circle is no different. That connection can be powerful when done right, but every extra word or unnecessary thought dilutes its potency, much as water dilutes alcohol.

This is why the most influential communicators have mastered the art of efficiency. Writers from Mark Twain to Seth Godin have imparted wisdom in short phrases, time and again. The impact of their words outweighs the amount of text on the page. The absence of explanation gives the audience something to chew on, making the prose more impactful and memorable.

My goal is to have this impact both with my writing and my verbal communication. So I strive to show restraint, to listen more and to think before speaking, every time.

It’s a challenge, but one that’s critical for me to take on. For if I want to be the best communicator I possibly plan, I must master this manta:

Say more with less.