Tag: improvement

Our Toughest Critic

Are you a hammer or a nail?

It’s a cliched question, to be sure. But it still gets asked, time and again.

The implication is relatively straightforward. Are you someone who initiates change? Or are you someone who effects it?

If you’re initiating change, you’re likely the hammer. You’re flying through the air in rhythmic motion, driving a nail toward a specified destination.

If you effect change, you’re the nail. You’re a piece of metal with a sharp edge, ready to pierce the wall.

The inherent premise of this question, of course, is that you must choose one option over the other.

You’re either the coach or the player. The firebrand or the workhorse. The hammer or the nail.

And yet, I find that I can’t choose just one option. Both choices apply.

I am a morning person.

On both weekdays and weekends, there’s a good chance my eyes are open before dawn’s first light peeks through the blinds. Heck, I might have even finished a workout by then.

While starting early has become commonplace for me, this routine doesn’t come naturally. Even after years of this pattern, I don’t find myself automatically springing out of bed at 4 AM.

Instead, I rely on my alarm clock to jolt me from my slumber, and coffee to keep me from returning to it. I also try and go to bed at an early hour, so that I facilitate an earlier wake up.

Doing all this, day in and day out, takes mental fortitude. And yet, I keep going.

For I am driven. I am determined to get the most out of every day. And committing to timely start is essential to achieving that goal.

Now, I recognize word driven is overused. Most of us describe ourselves that way, since that’s a trait that society expects of us.

And with that in mind, it’s hard to separate the wheat from the chaff. It’s hard to know who is just chirping about their motivation and who’s leaning in to it.

Yet, I truly feel my drive for success is a differentiator. And I put actions behind that belief, both by getting up early and by subjecting myself to intense self-critique.

This second trait is not for the faint of heart. Each day, I reflect upon all that I’ve done. But instead of patting myself on the back, I consider how I could have done everything better.

I am ruthless and exacting in my criticism during this process. That way I can properly course correct in the days ahead. Which then means those around me can see the benefits.

My daily self-critique might not be a pleasant experience. But provides the guidance to both initiate and effect the change I seek in myself.

And because of it, I can say I am both hammer and nail.

Withering self-criticism is not without danger. For we are not built to withstand such conflagrations.

If we serve as both hammer and nail, we risk driving ourselves into the ground. And our intentions become muddied.

For there is a fine line between masochism and self-pity. Both are considered gauche, but the second is far pithier than the first.

It is more acceptable to break ourselves down in order to build ourselves back up. Much like a home renovation project, the destruction is tolerated if it’s insulated from the wider environment and directed toward an improved end result.

Breaking oneself down in the hopes that others will feel sorry for us, by contrast, is largely unacceptable. It’s counterproductive, akin to smashing bottles in the grocery store aisle and waiting for someone to come clean up the mess.

I am conscious of all this, even as I continue my self-improvement crusade. I don’t want to push myself past the breaking point. And I don’t want my tactics to become someone else’s problem.

So, I toe that line between self-flagellation and self-pity, taking care to stay on the right side of it.

Or, at least I think I do.

There is an old tale of an emperor who walked the streets of his city, wearing nothing at all. Filled with self-righteousness, the emperor convinced himself that he was sporting a fancy garment. Yet, his subjects saw something far different — a naked man walking the streets.

This story is titled The Emperor’s New Clothes — one of many enduring masterpieces from Danish writer Hans Christian Andersen. And it remains a powerful parable about our dual reality.

For our lives are dominated by two perspectives — the way we see ourselves and the way others see us. And these two vantage points often contradict each other, sometimes drastically so.

The defining challenge of our existence is how to navigate this conflict.

We can try to get the best of both worlds — to live in a way that we approve of and others around us appreciate. Or, we can refuse to compromise, and choose one perspective over the other.

The emperor chose the latter route when he strolled out into the sunlight naked. Divas who rely on opinions of others for self-validation also follow this path — although they veer to the other extreme of it.

In a broad sense, these fringe cases sound ridiculous. Most of us are not this tone-deaf.

But when it comes to self-improvement, we might as well be.

For the process of changing our ways is sure to look different to us than it will to others. And even as we hone in on our own perspective, on fixing ourselves, the vantage point of others matters.

If we act as our toughest critic, we might consider the experience nothing more than a baptism by fire. But others? They might view this behavior as a cry for help, and act accordingly.

I don’t believe this to have been the case with my own crusade. It’s led to some raised eyebrows over the years, but nothing further than that.

But I can’t entirely be sure exactly how others view my actions. There is a diaspora of people who care about me, and I’m never quite sure how these habits affect them.

This weighs on me, particularly in a moment when isolation and vulnerability are so profound. I feel responsible to everyone invested in me. I don’t want to let them down — intentionally or not.

And yet, I have a responsibility to myself as well. To continually get the best out of myself, and to use the tactics that will further that aim.

When choosing between these responsibilities, I’ve generally sided with self-accountability. And so, I’ve continued to play that dual role of hammer and nail.

But lately, I’ve done so without blinders on. I’ve remained vigilant to how my efforts are received more broadly, and I’ve made the effort to explain myself when needed.

It’s only one step. But one step in the right direction nonetheless.

Is my experience universal? Of course not.

We each have our own priorities, tendencies and neuroses. And we each have our own circle of influence, who might react to our behavior in all kinds of unique ways.

Yet through all the endless permutations, one thing is clear: We are not in this alone.

It’s alright to be our toughest critic. Just as it’s perfectly acceptable to rely on our network of support.

But the other end of the equation still matters. Ignore it at your peril.

What’s Next?

Where do we go from here?

It’s a question we often consider. But not with the proper priority.

We tend to only think about our next move in the context of our last one. It’s a pattern that brings us stability and consistency. But it’s also one that can hold us back.

For while we learn the value of retrospection very early on in life, we fail to recognize that peering into the rearview mirror takes our eye off of the road ahead. And focusing too heavily on how we got to the point we’re at invites all types of white noise — Analysis Paralysis, Monday Morning Quarterbacking and The Blame Game.

None of these are productive or advantageous. And all of them shift our focus away from the more crucial task of determining what comes next.

Let’s take a look at a recent example of this disconnect. As Hurricane Harvey ravaged the Texas Gulf Coast — inundating Houston with unfathomable flooding — the major oil refineries in the region shut down. Within days, some gas stations in Dallas were covering their pumps with plastic bags; the holding tanks were dry, and no oil tankers were heading up Interstate 45 to save the day.

A full-fledged gas panic quickly took hold across the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. Drivers rushed to the nearest open gas station, causing long lines and exhausting fuel supplies even further. (Having waited in one of these lines myself, I can only imagine what the Oil Crisis of 1973 must have been like in America.)

And this wasn’t just a Dallas event. Similar scenes could be found across the Lone Star State — in Austin, San Antonio, and even Lubbock.

As the panic hit a fever pitch, oil and gas industry experts took to the airwaves to assure Texans that there was no fuel shortage after all. A chorus of angry voices soon followed, with many of those voices blaming drivers for causing the entire situation by gassing up in droves.

They may have been right. But that’s beside the point.

You see, who we decide to collar with the blame — anxious drivers, price-sensitive gas station owners or the storm itself — is irrelevant. Regardless of the cause, the panic happened. So, it’s too late to go back and prevent it.

In other words, the train has already left the station.

So, what can we do? We can focus on what comes next.

In the case of the Texas Gas Panic, this might mean driving conscientiously, planning out short-term travel in terms of fuel demand and being willing to drive further and pay more in order to refuel. These actions can lessen the burden on the fuel industry while gas stations work to get supply levels back to normal.

In other situations, such as workplace setbacks, detailing what comes next could take a different form — trying a new strategy, being more amenable to change, or getting better at collaborating with others more.

The possibilities are endless. But one thing remains the same.

What happens next provides the biggest impact.

What comes next can change the world for the better. It can help cement our legacy. And it provides us the opportunity to innovate, learn and grow.

So, stop quibbling over how we got here. Where we’re going is far more important.

The Right Amount of Different

Be Different. But Not Too Different.

These six words are a microcosm of our society.

We inhabit a world that values individuality — to an extent. Some originality is considered noteworthy. Too much is considered rebellious.

This paradox arises from our dueling desires to explore and maintain. We want to test the waters and get outside of our comfort zone. But we won’t dare lose sight of the boat that brought us — or else the current might sweep us away for good.

Why keep one foot on solid ground, instead of diving right in? Because we strive for balance. We simply cannot function properly without it.

This leads to a world of incremental changes. We try and take the monotonous, familiar world we know and gradually put a fresh spin on it. It’s like an adapted recipe, with life as we know it as the base ingredient.

Making your mark can prove challenging in this paradigm. No one is there to tell you where the goalposts are. So, the quest to find the right amount of different can be quite elusive. Play it too safe, and you’ll come off as bland and quiet. Change too much up and you’ll come off as loud and obnoxious.

What can you do to find the sweet spot?

  • Scour the landscape. Take a close look at how things look now. What’s considered normal? Why are things the way they are within an industry or a social group? Don’t hesitate to self-educate. The more you know about the world around you, the more effective you can be at changing it.
  • Consider a derivative. No intensive calculus needed here — just a math mindset. What’s one thing you could change about the world you know in order to make it one degree more efficient and one degree more outstanding? Throwing the status quo out the window and starting over is not an option. Think in terms of small, yet noticeable tweaks.
  • Chart a plan of action. Think about how you will implement the changes you derive. Think of what you will do to communicate these changes in a way that doesn’t upset the apple cart Are you prepared for all outcomes when you let the cat out of the bag?
  • Execute.

Now, you might think this looks a lot like a business plan. You’d be right — and wrong.

You see, business is a microcosm of our societal constructs. Of our need for balance and continual improvement. Of our need to be different, but not too different.

In other words, business mirrors life. Take these steps to find the right amount of different, and you’ll likely see success in both areas.

You’ll improve the world in a culturally acceptable manner. And in the process, you’ll be viewed as remarkable.

These are goals we strive for, whether we admit it or not. The right amount of different makes them possible.

So, what are you waiting for? The process starts now.

An Exercise in Improvement

Exercise is one of the things I’m most passionate about.

I believe it’s important to devote oneself to it. That’s a key reason why I’ve worked out at least twice a week for the past three years.

Hitting the weight room. Working up a sweat on the treadmill. Walking for miles around the neighborhood on a sunny day — these are all irreplaceable components of my week, no matter if it’s January or July.

Vacations? Holidays? I’ll alter my workout schedule around them to make sure I stay in shape.

Exercise is that crucial to me. And I believe it should be to everyone.

Now, I’m aware of the that this statement might ruffle some feathers. Say the word “gym,” and images of testosterone-laden jocks come to mind. Or maybe the stigmas of appearance and body shaming that poison our society. These are not appealing mental images, and they shoo away people from a workout routine more effectively than garlic deters vampires.

But those are not the reasons why working out is a worthwhile endeavor. For the true benefits of exercise can be found on the inside.

There’s the physical side of things — getting your heart rate up, getting the blood flowing. I’m no doctor, but I know these processes can certainly be beneficial in the long run.

But just as important is the mental side of things. The commitment to a routine. The discipline and focus you must exhibit as a workout warrior. And the immense satisfaction upon completing what you set out to do.

Exercise provides a scenario where you’re in in control of your own improvement. But it provides so much more than that.

  • It provides an outlet. A productive opportunity to unload the mental pressures of stress, and to rectify the detrimental effects of sitting at a desk for hours on end.
  • It provides a rhythm. A pattern of coordinated motions that keeps your body and mind in sync.
  • It provides solace. An escape, a break — no matter what curveballs life throws your way, you can forget about it while working up a sweat.

These are benefits we need. Benefits we deserve.

I know this as well as anyone.

In the time since I started working out regularly, I’ve felt healthier than ever. But this feeling hasn’t come from how many miles I’ve run, or how much I’ve lifted. No, that rejuvenated feeling I carry with me has come from a renewed sense of balance. When times have been good, I have my workout to keep me grounded. When the road has been rough — such as the period after I was laid off of my previous job — exercise has served as a necessary distraction.

In fact, I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that I wouldn’t be who I am today without exercise.

So ignore the old standby about exercise being for a six-pack, or to fit into a certain size of jeans. Working out should be about the attributes we strive for — discipline, commitment, perseverance — and less about superficial distractions.

So get out there and get active. Your mind, body and soul stand to benefit.

A Foundation of Trust

What’s the most precious thing in life?

Some might say life itself, or love. And they’re right, in a way.

But I think there’s one clear answer, that stands tall among the rest.

Trust.

You see, trust is one of the most difficult sensations to describe, yet one of the most encompassing. It provides us with a sense of security, and its absence can literally destroy our health.

Trust is one of the most difficult things to attain. (Heck, we often don’t trust ourselves, or our ability to trust others.) And if trust is earned and broken, it’s nearly impossible to regain.

Trust allows us to share secrets, to step on the roller coaster, to pay attention to our teachers. Lack of trust is why we lock our doors at night, why we scour Web MD every time we have a slight headache, why the thought of someone else driving our car for the first time gives us angst.

Trust is what draws us to our routine, or allows us to stray from our routine.

If you’re looking for a common theme in all this, well — there are two.

Trust is about protection, but also about control.

These feelings are at the heart of human nature, which is why trust is the Holy Grail of all commodities.

So yes, trust is precious — and increasingly scarce.

As bad things happen in our increasingly connected society, we become inherently suspicious. Trust erodes, tensions flare — and more bad things happen as a result.

But there’s an alternate ending to this narrative. One that — surprise, surprise — relies on our collective ability to trust.

If we get to know our neighbors, or at least give them the benefit of the doubt, we can set a common foundation. A foundation of trust.

With this foundation in place, we can more productively respond to the crises our society faces with one voice. A voice of multiple perspectives, but of unified purpose. A voice free of the divisive seeds of deceit.

Now, this process ain’t easy; the important ones hardly ever are. But it is necessary.

For while we may never leave our doors unlocked, we should be able to unlock our hearts.