I recently heard an inspiring speech about leadership during
which the speaker used Bela Karolyi and Nadia Comaneci as an example of exceptional coaching. (In case you are not old enough to remember, Nadia was the first gymnast to ever receive any perfect score in gymnastics, and Bela was her coach.) The speaker made the point that, after Nadia received seven perfect 10’s in the 1976 Montreal Olympic games, Karolyi did not stop coaching her. The speaker’s point was that the job of a leader is to continue to improve performance, even past perfect, if possible. Perhaps as a result of this, Nadia was able to master some never-before-her moves, like the double-twist dismount.
 
In contrast to that point is one of the things I talk about in my
seminars, which is our inability to enjoy and accept our own achievements. We
have a tendency to look for flaws or weaknesses in ourselves and others, always
striving to improve, without giving proper credit to what we do well. I think
one of the biggest challenges we have as leaders (of ourselves and of others) is
to balance those two opposing philosophies. How do we give proper credit to what
we do well, (collecting and proudly displaying our own “gold medals,” as it
were), and also continue to work toward improvement? How do we celebrate the
accomplishments of those we lead, while simultaneously encouraging their
diligence in reaching for more?

It’s no revelation that one of our greatest life challenges is to
achieve balance. This question of praise versus identification of improvement
points is no different. Do you have trouble in one area over another? Do you
congratulate and correct others in equal measure? Perhaps more importantly, do
you accept congratulations and correction in equal measure? And can you accept
an outcome without placing a value judgment on it? Can you say, “This didn’t
work as well as I wanted, but next time I will do it another way,”without
feeling defeated? (I think of Thomas Edison and his light bulb experiments. It
was reported that, when an interviewer asked him if his 2000 failed experiments
were discouraging, Edison replied, “I didn’t fail. I found 2000 ways that didn’t
work.”) Can you seek improvement without imagining that “room for improvement”
implies “failure?”

This week, pay attention to what you did well. Make a list, on
Monday, of at least 5 things. They might be things like, “I didn’t cause a
traffic accident on the way to work, today,” or “I finished my report on time.”
Enjoy them for the week. Then, on Friday, make a list of 5 things you could do
differently to improve your outcomes next time, such as, “I will block out 3
hours on my calendar, for two days, instead of using 6 hours in one day to
complete my next report.”  Gather your medals, talk about them, display them, and celebrate them.
Then keep working, because the joy is in the journey.

Why do we laugh at streakers? Delight in big, red bow adorned packages left at our doorsteps? Find amusement in punch lines that we don’t expect? And rave about the little, run-down, dingy, mom & pop diner that has the most incredible tiramisu in all the land? I think it’s because, deep down, we find that joy bubbles up easily through surprises. As I get older, I think I enjoy them even more than I did when I was a child. Maybe that’s because when I was a child, everything was new, and now, experiencing something I don’t expect is rare. That, in itself, makes a surprise even more surprising, doesn’t it?

I know people who say they don’t like surprises. Maybe it’s because their experience with surprises is something like, “I didn’t expect my wife to cheat on me,” or “My father died so suddenly…” or “I assumed I’d retire from this plant, and they announced today that they are closing the doors.” These are not the surprises that inspire joy at all, of course, but should we allow these things to prejudice us against all surprises?

Perhaps it’s a question of ratios. Maybe people who still delight in surprises have experienced more good than bad surprises, and those who hate surprises have experienced the opposite. I wonder if we could make a point of stacking the deck in favor of surprises. What if we concentrated on surprising one person each day. Maybe we send a greeting card to someone who hasn’t heard from us in awhile. Or, answer our personal phone with, “Thank you, so much, for calling! I’m feeling fabulous, today, how are you feeling?”

It really doesn’t matter how we do it. I just think it might be more fun to think about surprises if most of them were of this joy-inspiring variety. If the fun surprises start to outnumber the not-so-fun ones, maybe we could remove that little bit of apprehension and dread that some of us feel when we think of being surprised.

Plus, you, the surprise-er, would get to hear, “Oooo, what a nice surprise!”

And then: Oh, LOOK! There is joy! Bubbling up for both of you from right in the middle of a surprise.

I love a good girls’ night out. We laugh, we eat good food, and many times, we “vent,” which is really just a nice word for complaining. Venting is distinguished from talking through problems with your friends or spouse in an effort to find solutions. Venting is what we do when we lament, “I just wanted him/her to listen! I hate when he/she tries to solve my problem. I was just venting. “ 

Being a habitual “venter,” myself, I have recently started to wonder about the effectiveness of this practice. It seems like, if it were a productive habit, we wouldn’t have to vent the same information over and over. Instead, as the venting continues, day after day, so does discomfort seem to increase instead of decreasing, at least in myself, as bad behavior is recalled and rehashed, long after whatever situation caused the venting is over. Is there a better solution for getting through various frustrating situations than the coveted venting?

The answer just might be found in neuroscience and the study of hormones. I recently read the results of an experiment conducted by Dr. Paul Zak. In the experiment, oxytocin (the “niceness” hormone, the hormone responsible for bonding between mothers and babies, in particular) levels were measured. Not only were oxytocin levels increased in subjects who experienced the kindness of others (generosity, in the case of the experiment), but also increased when the subject was nice to someone else. In other words, if you are nice to someone, not only does that make someone else feel good, it makes you feel good, too!

I don’t think this is earth-shaking news. What I want to point out, however, is what that information means to our daily effort to stay connected to our joy. It turns out that, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all,” is not just your mother’s admonition to be polite. Brain chemistry research seems to show that it may be a key to living in joy. Similar to how complaining turns our focus to the least desirable traits of our friends and family, saying something nice starts a domino effect of its own: say something nice (oxytocin released in the speaker), feel nice (more oxytocin released in the speaker and the listener), speaker and listener are more likely to do something nice(oxytocin released in the speaker, the listener and  the recipient of nice behavior)… and so it goes, until our own brain chemistry is altered, and we are now wired to feel good. In addition, as oxytocin is the “bonding hormone,” we are indirectly renewing the bond between ourselves and those of whom, and to whom, we speak.

It should be noted that “venting,” even without active problem solving, also releases oxytocin in the person complaining, just like saying something nice does (which is probably why we’ve adopted the habit in the first place).  It does not, however, release oxytocin in the listener. Given the choice, why not have discussions that offer the greatest benefit for all concerned? Do yourself, your friends, and the people about whom you speak a favor… Unless you really are looking for productive solutions to a specific problem, say something nice, or don’t say anything at all. 

Living in Joy Challenge: Obviously, the challenge for this week is to speak only well of others and of situations. Also in spire this in others. Start the next “break room” discussion by asking, “What nice thing happened to you, this week?” or “What do you most respect about your spouse?” After a week of this, chemically speaking, you will be different.  I can’t wait to hear about the change. J

The medterms.com definition of mid-life crisis reads: “A period of emotional turmoil… accompanied by a desire for change… brought on by fears and anxieties about growing older.”

Really? Is this something exclusive to mid-life? Do you remember junior high and high school? I remember thinking that something must have been wrong with me, because I never felt settled, or like I fit-in, or like I was as put-together as all of the teens around me appeared to be. In retrospect, I know that every one of us was trying to learn how to become who we wanted to be, as afraid as we were desirous of growing older. 

As an adult in my “middle age,” I don't think this has changed, much. Sometimes, I feel like I still don’t have it quite figured out. I should be more accomplished in my career, or have less debt, or more family. I should have done something, or not done other things. I’m not sure it’s much different than the feelings I had when I was a teen, so I also get discouraged, thinking that I should have resolved this question of, “who am I and what am I supposed to do with my life” sometime before now. This time, though, my age helps me. I have the experience and awareness to be able to look around and realize that I’m not an oddity. In fact, many of my friends, married or not married, with or without children, those with enviable careers and those who live with financial pictures that are bleak at best, express some of the same questions I entertain. It seems that regardless of what we are, have or do, we still long for more.

When I was a teenager, I thought there would come a time when I didn’t long for anything, anymore. A time would come when I would be content, satisfied, and proud of my own achievements. Now that I realize the longing hasn’t subsided, I’m tempted to be discouraged, or to completely change direction in search of some better life plan, except that I know by looking around me and talking to my peers, there are opposite directions and different life plans, but there are no better life plans. We are all left wanting more. Teen or adult, I continue to be in crisis, to want more, to continue longing, to desire change and fear growing older.

I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think the discontent we feel throughout every stage of our lives is our catalyst to grow, learn and experience more of life than complacency allows. As human beings, I believe we were built to stretch the boundaries of our lives, break the barriers of fear that slow our progress, and celebrate our victories while simultaneously looking for new races to run. The feeling that we still “aren’t quite there, yet” is a result of still being alive, rather than a symptom of failure. Call it teen-angst, or a mid-life crisis, or elderly despair, the result is the same: the growing pains spur us on to become who we have all our lives wanted to be.

As long as I am living, I will want to learn, be, and experience more. In that way, I shall always be in crisis… not entirely content, not entirely accomplished. And I can find joy in that.

Living In Joy Challenge: Take a look at some of the things in your life that make you least content. How have you been handling them? Can you see any of your own growth? Are you able to see how these situations are helping you to discover yourself? The patience in you, or your capacity for forgiveness, for example? Let me know how you’re doing with your whole-life crisis… and I’ll keep writing about mine. J