Serenity Now
I'm beginning to see things for what they are rather than what I believe they should be. I'm not sure why it took me so long to get this point, but with this new perspective I suddenly have a lot more time on my hands.
There's all of the time I'm not spending on worrying about how things should be and how to make them so.
There's the time I'm saving by not taking on things I cannot change and, instead, finding the right moment and technique to change the things I can.
If I'm sounding like a serenity poem, it's because, to borrow words from an era of sitcom certainty, I've found "serenity now."
Some examples:
At work a few titans have given me grief, and I them, for years. But now, I no longer challenge the people whose power I can't match. It's just sound project management: only commit to work when you have adequate resources. I don't have the power to take on certain people, certain institutions. Pursuing that change without adequate resources, well that is just stupid. Why did I behave otherwise?
On my Seattle block a developer built a home four times bigger than it's neighbor. This lesson is not about power, but timing. If history is the consequence of either great actors, or extraordinary times, then the mega mansion will fall victim to the times. The big boxes on my humble street sit vacant, their prices dropping, relics of a reckless marketplace. My writing,calls to my legislators, weren't as effective as a sub-prime lending crisis for making people reconsider the "more is more" mentality. These days, front yard gardens are sexier than three-car garages.
At work I courted another set of titans, ones open to change, and worked with them to pursue new ideas. The resulting projects to green our company have been more successful than I could have hoped. I managed to connect the right people, at the right time, with the right support to make a real change. This experience and many others are teaching me the difference between the things I can change, and those I cannot, that experience some call wisdom.
So if you see me playing my guitar, or lounging around with a book, while the planet appears to be melting, don't hate me for it. I'm letting my workers have the weekend off, so they can hit it harder on Monday.
There's all of the time I'm not spending on worrying about how things should be and how to make them so.
There's the time I'm saving by not taking on things I cannot change and, instead, finding the right moment and technique to change the things I can.
If I'm sounding like a serenity poem, it's because, to borrow words from an era of sitcom certainty, I've found "serenity now."
Some examples:
At work a few titans have given me grief, and I them, for years. But now, I no longer challenge the people whose power I can't match. It's just sound project management: only commit to work when you have adequate resources. I don't have the power to take on certain people, certain institutions. Pursuing that change without adequate resources, well that is just stupid. Why did I behave otherwise?
On my Seattle block a developer built a home four times bigger than it's neighbor. This lesson is not about power, but timing. If history is the consequence of either great actors, or extraordinary times, then the mega mansion will fall victim to the times. The big boxes on my humble street sit vacant, their prices dropping, relics of a reckless marketplace. My writing,calls to my legislators, weren't as effective as a sub-prime lending crisis for making people reconsider the "more is more" mentality. These days, front yard gardens are sexier than three-car garages.
At work I courted another set of titans, ones open to change, and worked with them to pursue new ideas. The resulting projects to green our company have been more successful than I could have hoped. I managed to connect the right people, at the right time, with the right support to make a real change. This experience and many others are teaching me the difference between the things I can change, and those I cannot, that experience some call wisdom.
So if you see me playing my guitar, or lounging around with a book, while the planet appears to be melting, don't hate me for it. I'm letting my workers have the weekend off, so they can hit it harder on Monday.
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