There's a great quote that goes something like:
The definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result each time.
This was echoed in a recent cartoon put out by the consulting firm, McKinsey & Company:
All in Life
There's a great quote that goes something like:
The definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result each time.
This was echoed in a recent cartoon put out by the consulting firm, McKinsey & Company:
I’m not a runner. That’s what I’ve told myself time and time again.
I’ve always said that I dislike the idea of running. Oh, and the practice of it.
I don’t like it because I can’t run fast. Because I don’t want to run 5 miles.
I don't know how to act my age. I've never been this age before.
What is this bullshit about "age-appropriate"? Who defined the standard for a given age? Who gave them that right?
We're bombarded by media and messages online, offline, at work, at play, about what age appropriate is.
Last week, I (along with so many of us) was shocked and saddened by the deaths of both Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain within days of each other.
Two individuals who had it all. Commercial success, professional recognition, total economic independence and all the luxuries that come with it.
In the novel, Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse, Siddartha, a man beset by an inner restlessness and search for enlightenment, meets Gotama Buddha. He has heard Gotama's teachings, and despite being impressed by their clarity and perfection of thought, he informs him that he, Siddartha, cannot become one of his followers, but needs to choose his own path to enlightenment.
Change is the one thing, in addition to death and taxes, that you can count on.
Whether in our personal or professional lives, after a while, you can count on the fact that the way things are cannot be the way things stay. Especially if the goal is to evolve in any sort of positive, developmental fashion.
The Arctic Monkeys, an English rock band, recently released their sixth studio album, Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino. The album itself is a marked departure from their prior music, which was more straight-ahead rock. This one is more relaxed, more laid back, with each song an almost cinematic and (at times) introspective episode unto itself. It's the kind of album that reveals itself, little by little, upon successive plays.
"It's not for you."
If what I'm offering - a product, a service, a connection, an idea, a friendship - doesn't resonate with who I'm offering it to, the tendency is to try harder. To promote it more vigorously. To look for additional angles to 'make the sale'.
It's happened to all of us. We start on a change program, get excited about the possibilities and the agenda we've laid out. We foresee the change we need to create and what it's going to take for us to get there. And it's awesome.
But driving this change - as we expect - requires a lot of work. Many special projects and tasks that have to get done. (All while we're juggling our regular day job.)
There's a great quote that says that selling (anything) is essentially a transfer of enthusiasm.
There's a lot of truth in that and it matters whether you're in sales or not. You could be selling an idea, a project or an initiative to your boss. You could be promoting a new marketing plan for your non-profit or trying to raise money for a cause.
Process helps. For so many aspects of our lives that we grapple with, someone, somewhere has defined a process, and it's one that works. Especially when it comes to routine, straightforward activities.
But for many other decision areas, from making the sale to conducting an analysis to hiring an employee, processes exist, and they help, but only to a certain extent.
Happy people don't act like assholes. Generally speaking, my own unscientific survey over the last several decades suggests this to be true.
Think of the happy people you know. How do they act? What's their attitude to others around them? Folks who are happy tend to be comfortable with themselves, with what they have and who they are.
I'm not one for poetry. It doesn't usually move me in the way it does for some people. I'm not one for Bollywood movies, either. They're usually too long for my taste, filled with a bit too much song and dance, often a bit too predictable.
But, literally by chance, I caught one recently on a flight between Dubai and London that I thought was very good (despite the two song and dance numbers in it!).
At what point is what we do ever enough?
I don’t mean this from the standpoint of others not being satisfied with what we’ve done or them questioning our ability to do things for them. I'm not asking it from the standpoint of exasperation we have with others in specific situations ("Gosh, when is it ever enough for him/her?").
I saw this sign on the seatback of a British Rail train. An appropriate message - some would say pretty obvious even - but it’s the line close to the end that’s the most interesting:
Last Friday, I woke up and flipped open my email to a thunderbolt of a message from my colleague and fellow Gooner, Gavin:
BREAKING NEWS: WENGER LEAVING AT END OF SEASON
There's certainly a value to be placed on growth. On the continual pursuit of expansion.
It drives us to look for development opportunities, to rethink how things are done, to change what we think is 'conventional' i.e. "the way it's always been".
Growth is a tremendous value creator.
In the movie, "The Matrix", Neo's (Keanu Reeves' character) education - his understanding, acceptance of, as well as his ability to fulfill his true potential - is centered around belief. Belief that the world as he has known it has been defined by someone else's rules. Belief that these rules are there for a specific purpose, and that this purpose is not only serving someone else's goals, they are limiting his true potential.
When I was 16, I decided to move from Hong Kong to Karachi to study for a business degree. It was a decision borne of economics more than anything else, but it seemed to make sense at the time, given the reputation of the school and my family ties there.
"When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be." (Lao Tzu)
We love stories. We love telling them. We love listening to them. We love creating them. We love being part of them. Stories define our lives and our experiences. They remind us of who we have been and help make us who we are. They also shape who we want to be.