Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Success

The conventional wisdom for career advice in recent months seems to be this: express your thanks that you have kept your job by working even harder to succeed with the fewer resources that are now allotted to your company by the shrunken economy. I don't know where this conventional wisdom came from--probably a convention of employers--but it is a little depressing that the primary response to the worst economic slowdown in the lives of anyone under 50 is not to pause to evaluate whether a change is perhaps desirable--is it possible that our relentless pursuit of more, more, more was fruitless in the end?--but instead to double down and work even harder doing the same things. Yes, most of us need to work to live, but it seems to me the philosophy that work is the source of happiness has taken a beating in the past year or so.

Thus I was refreshed this week when while reading I came across Ralph Waldo Emerson's definition of success:

To laugh often and love much;
To win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children;
To earn the approbation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty;
To find the best in others;
To give of one's self without the slightest thought of return;
To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a rescued soul, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
To have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exaltation;
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived;
This is to have succeeded.

Note that nothing in this definition requires a job to achieve; in fact, a person successful by this standard could work in any field, or none at all. Perhaps that is the point--he or she would not be defined by a job, but instead by the obvious positive results of a lifetime of relationships, experiences, and memories. What a way to live!

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Being vs. Doing

My family spent a relaxing Labor Day weekend with our friends at their lake house in the mountains of North Carolina. It was a great trip for everyone: the kids had someone to play with, and the adults had someone to talk to. We spent a lot of time on the lake, pulling the kids on the Great Big Mabel (a giant tube on which they ride, bouncing crazily in the wake). It was a good 15 degrees cooler than in Atlanta, and we reveled in the crisp air.

I realized upon returning that one of the delights of the weekend was the lack of pressure to do something. The weekend wasn't about doing; it was about being. Instead of my usual daily rush of doing--emailing, phoning, cleaning up, shuffling papers, reading memos, all the busyness that makes up life--I got to enjoy just being a father, a friend, a passenger in the boat. We sat a lot; we talked a lot; we watched a little football on TV. We just were. Ask me what I did, and I'd probably answer, "Oh, nothing." But I loved every minute of it; I returned with my mind clear, feeling a little less rushed, appreciating my friends and family a little more.

This week has seemed more rushed than usual. It could be the deal I'm working on, or it could be the contrast between being and doing. I wonder how I can incorporate more being into my daily routine, to balance the doing and bring peace to my endeavors?

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Diversions

There are many ways for bored office workers to waste time. Doodling has been popular for decades, and chatting at the water cooler or at a colleague's cubicle are standard. Technology has dramatically expanded the possibilities: first came Solitare, and now Facebook and Twitter disguise time wasting with a thin veneer of respectability. ("I'm networking.")

Occasionally a diversion turns into a worthy pursuit itself. That sudoku puzzle not only helps pass the time on your commute, but it also keeps your brain young. Crossword puzzles build vocabulary; language tapes exercise the mind, too. Many artists feel they can't support themselves with their art, so their doodles become a meaningful outlet for creativity. A worthy diversion, in fact, is one that aids in the avoidance of real work; requires thought or creativity; and has the potential for being useful or artistic in its own right.

The creator(s) of this map achieved all three to perfection. It is an anagram map of the London subway system; every station name has been replaced with its anagram. (To compare them with the real station names, click here.) Imagine the time spent on this diversion! Admire the creativity! Marvel at the tenacity to stick with the project to completion after the obvious ones were done! What a marvelous example of a diversion turned to art.

May all your work avoidance schemes yield such sublime results.