A case of mind over matter?

“Yes, absolutely: If you don’t mind, it does not matter!’ replied Reuben, the Dolphin Club’s boat captain, who was giving me a tour of the swimming and boating club in San Francisco Bay. What a treat! The visit to the Dolphin opened my eyes to a whole new level of physical and mental fitness needed to swim in the Bay waters and the harmonious cooperation between people who love making headway (moving) in or over the water.

At the end of a business trip to San Francisco, I decided to see if I might be able to row at one of the local clubs. One of the wonderful things I had discovered about becoming a rower is that it creates an invisible but real connection with many other like minded people worldwide. I have yet to find a place that would not extend the invite to visit and possibly row at the local facilities. Googling “rowing in San Francisco” brought up info on several Bay Area clubs. The closest to my location carried the additional designation of “swimming” in its name. I had seen boating, sailing, paddling, and kayaking added to the rowing, but the notion that rowers and swimmers shared a club was puzzling to me. While the e-mail reply warned me that I won’t be allowed to row because I could not claim open water experience, I was nevertheless cordially invited to visit the club.

On a beautiful but chilly early November morning I eagerly walked down Nob Hill to the edge of the Bay. I found myself in front of a building that from the street looked itself as a large white and blue boat. Once inside, I was transported in time! The club, founded in 1877, (see history) boasts in its great wood paneled room a full size wooden bar similar to those I’ve discovered in the old boat houses of Philadelphia – apparently a feature required by boaters till the 19th century… A fleet of large, carefully maintained, wooden boats still used for open water rowing reminded me of other antique boating equipment I had used at the Roskilde Roklub, that is built on a fjord next to the Viking museum in Denmark. Many pictures and trophies documenting a long and proud history were also on display. However, the most impressive discovery occurred when I exited toward the water side of the boat house: people, several older than me, in their bathing suits cheerfully greeting each other while coming out or waddling into the frigid water. My feeling of confidence, gained from sporting only a light leather jacket that morning when most passersby were shivering in puffy jackets and huddling paper cups of hot coffee, quickly gave way to humility! A stunning view of the bay with pink fog rolling in and out over the Golden Gate Bridge added to my awe. It turned out to be a very good day to observe these people whose determination made them not only able to but actually willing to brave the chilly open waters of the Bay. I was shown pictures of 80+ yo members who still swam the Golden Gate Bridge route or had crossed the English Channel.

I asked Reuben what it takes to be able to brave the cold open waters of the Bay? He told me about needing to persevere to gradually withstand water’s low temperature, having the metabolism to sustain the swim, and staying fit into old age. And I learned that this club holds… hypothermia classes. Above all, I was told it’s about a state of mind. As Reuben put it, “We do not have to swim in these waters, we chose – and love- to!” My visit was a revelation. When swimming clubs will be mentioned from now on, I will not automatically picture a pool, inevitably limited in length, with water warmed at a comfortable temperature. I now understood why I was not allowed to row: I needed to be able to swim in those waters should the wake of a passing tanker flip my boat.

I had to leave to catch my return flight, but I had trouble extracting myself from the scene. I had taken dozens of pictures (still hard to find one that does justice to the real thing). One last look: wide sky above blue and gold open waters. Pink fog. The Golden Gate Bridge, Sausalito, Angel Island and Alcatraz. Tankers passing and honking in the distance. Boats and flocks of swimmers crossing in various directions. The smell of bacon. What a morning!

A view “to live for”…

My recent experience with trying to measure up against the mighty Potomac provided the most vivid illustration of this twist of the phrase ”to die for” , which had apparently stuck in my brain after hearing it a while back. Those who had similarly gone through serious situations, fearing for their life, yet in the same time feeling elated, will probably relate. No, I’m not going to recount a pure adrenaline-rush episode some seek on purpose, like plunging at the end of bungee cord. Mine was a less contrived occurrence requiring me to put up a good fight, the reward was not only staying alive but feeling overjoyed about being alive (something I would otherwise take for granted).

My professional career created the opportunity to further expand my… rowing horizons. As of April I became a guest member of the Potomac Boat Center in DC, one of the most prestigious and venerable US rowing clubs, situated on the banks of one of the mightiest North American rivers. After a long winter during which I was reduced to sadly contemplating my little frozen lake, I could not wait one more second to experience water in its liquid form. On my first day as a member, I had been summoned to launch my boat well before the crack of dawn, something I never do back home. I was told the basic rules (needed to use boat lights to be noticed, which side I was allowed to navigate on) and some useful information (how far to the last bridge and ‘current is strong today’).

The mighty Potomac, further inflated by the heavy rain in the last few days, was glowing seductively under the full moon, so there I went, taking on it in a light weight single boat. The power differential was a bit intimidating, but the water seemed rather smooth, and the easy going with its flow enhanced the whole magic of the new experience and my belief that “I can do this”… However, after navigating a couple of turns (in the dark!) the water became very rough just before having to pass under a series of bridges. All of the sudden I was sucked into a vortex, the boat was accelerating toward a huge pillar. I rapidly pulled in my oar (which normally hangs more the 6 feet on the side of the boat) completely into the oarlock to prevent it from being snapped. Of course, the boat was now completely unbalanced so I instinctively leaned overboard on the other side while we were twirling together out of control toward the pillar.

I used the blade as a rudder and just when the light boat was about to crash into the pillar, instead of avoiding it, I planted my blade into the pillar and began to push and extend again the oar redirecting the force to push us away from the center of the vortex. Seemed like time stood still, yet the locked dance with the pillar might have taken only a few seconds, then all of the sudden we were set free of its embrace. If I had to plan it, I would probably not been able to anticipate the moves needed to keep us afloat. The experience of less dramatic yet various challenges during the past years somehow combined into an instinctive knowledge of how to maintain the balance. Probably even more importantly, I distinctly remember becoming more calm and deliberate as the outside world started to spin around me. I also remember wondering, almost as if I was looking at myself: “how comes I am still riding above the water?” It was a strange feeling of completely being into the moment, yet rationally thinking about it as if observing if from the outside.
The last couple of bridges I navigated as in trance, then I hit again open water, seemingly reaching the proposed goal for the day and such decided it was time to turn back. The first signs of light helped avoid getting close to the pillars again. Working now against the current, I was making slow progress. Then, the wind really picked up.

My boat, being close to the shore hit by the wind, began to briskly jump up and down on the valleys and hills created by the combined direct and reflected waves. My back was now swept by cold waves, that swept of the boat, soon the hull was completely filled with water, and my legs and feet became submerged. I was pulling my oars very hard threading through the water but it felt as if I was exercising on a stationary rowing machine. I could now see the shadows of some lone runners making good progress on the shore while I was apparently not moving at all; the Potomac was pulling every trick to just not let me go back. I remember feeling my legs were frozen, I began worrying that my back will lock, and although the adrenaline was still giving me strength to continue, I began to feel some despair.

Then… a fire lit the sky and the water, and I found myself under an enormous pink dome. Flocks of black birds began swarming the sky, and I could now make out the white lace of the blooming cherry trees on the shore. I fixated on their joyous image then realized that I was very slowly, but surely, progressing against their position. That made me happy and reassured that if I just continued I would eventually get back to the dock. I then also began to look beyond my immediate surroundings. The DC monuments looked truly majestic from the water, their light stone glowing against the fiery sky background. I thought: 'had I given in to the treacherous vortex earlier, I would have missed all of this. I’m so lucky to be alive, here, at this very moment to see this view from such a great vantage point. This was indeed a “view to live for!”’ and felt elated. I swear the obelisk even winked his red eye reassuringly at me and I smiled back at it. I knew that I will be OK, despite both the current and wind fighting against me, and the extra-liquid weight I had to carry all the way back in my boat. I grew accustomed to the rhythmic sweep of the waves getting all the way up around my waist, then over the boat’s hull, then dissipating back into the rest. I could not go any deeper than that, right? I had been literally integrated by the Potomac. Now, I knew it was just a matter of keeping going and the view was so beautiful that I did not mind moving so slowly.

When I finally reached back to the dock, the boat captain was standing waiting for me, visibly worried. As soon as he had helped me flip the boat to empty all the water, he launched into a quick series of questions: why did I go beyond the bridges? Didn’t I know that even a big 8+ boat got snapped in two by the pillars in such high current and they had to fish the rowers out the water? Did I realize I was the only single boat out there this morning? Didn’t I know it was acceptable in such a life threatening situation to break the traffic rules, why didn’t I row on the “wrong” side to minimize the effects of the wind? I looked at him, lots of answers and more questions running through my mind (why did he immediately tell me how many miles past the last bridge which I interpreted as a suggested trip, why didn’t he caution me about the pillars’ vortex, how could I already know I was allowed to break the traffic rules and not be expelled from the club?) But, then I took another look at the fiery Potomac and decided to stick with the essential. I replied:

“Sorry, just got carried away”…

Get inspired

Being inspired by others is one of the most helpful things in achieving our hard to reach goals.

I have already shared my struggle to keep up my daily exercise routine during this time when I can’t go out on the water… It is difficult to block-off the time and in addition I find erg-ing (using a rowing machine indoors) just plain hard to do! I needed to work diligently on finding ways ("Start with the end in sight") to continue to use the rowing machine, but overall it did not seem to get any more enjoyable or any easier, especially with the long-drawn-out winter this year. No wonder I don’t seem to get any better at it! Thus, it may come across as odd that when I learned of an Indoor Rowing Championship “regatta” in my city, I decided to participate.

I have been previously to a grand total of two similar events. At the first one that happened ten or so years ago, I was able to buy my rowing machine at a discount (after being used during the competition). The second indoor rowing competition took place 6 yrs ago almost to the day. I let myself being talked into a “walk-in,” meaning I just showed up and rowed (no, I did not do great there); however, I have a pleasant memory of their atmosphere, seemingly positively charged from all the energy of those serious about competing. So, I decided to go get energized about erg-ing! Little did I know that I would not only immerse myself in an energizing crowd, but I would also meet two truly inspiring people.

Paul Randall will turn 93 this year and competed to defend his world champion title in the 90-95 yo category. I can say that he is the most energetic 90+ person I personally ever met. I watched in awe as he rowed the physically taxing 2K course and took a couple of pictures of him (stretching before the start and an "action" picture).

After his race I also took the opportunity to meet and congratulate him. He indicated it was not a ‘big deal’ that he beat the time required to qualify for the finals, as he explained it, he had been specifically training for this event since August. I caught myself before asking him “of which year”? But I did ask about his potential association with Indiana University, as he was wearing an academic athletic tank top. His explanation indicated that he was not only physically fit but also very witty. He said ‘Yes, I am an Alumn’ and then immediately followed ‘and I make sure I take good advantage of it! I called them up and asked if they were going to keep their promise to give me 1% for each year since I graduated. I pointed out to them that might mean 50% off"... He paused and said with a smile: “They checked their files and came back to say, ‘In fact, Mr. Randall, you are entitled to 59%. We will honor our pledge. We are not too worried, you are the only one in your age group who is still buying athletic gear!” Paul is on his way to Boston to defend his world title at the World Indoor Rowing Championships (also known as C.R.A.S.H.-b). A much younger heavy set guy sitting in the audience commented in response to my expressed admiration, “Well, sure he can be the champion, he probably does not have much competition in his age group.” To which I said, “Yes, you are likely right, but isn’t that exactly what a champion is, someone who greatly outdoes the competition?” I also thought: Will you start training to see what it really takes? Btw, while many rowers compete in the indoors events, it is not necessary to be one to do very well on an erg which eliminates the need to be able to balance the boat on the water while simultaneously pulling hard.

The other inspiring person I met is at the other end of the age spectrum. Mika Baugh is 19. I was so lucky to crash after my own race (about lessons learned from that adventure in a future post!) on a bench next to her proud grandfather. He seemed so overjoyed that he turned toward me and said: “My granddaughter is competing today and she is my hero!” Sounded as a rather surprising statement until he told me that Mika is an A student (was Valedictorian) and a star athlete at Indiana University. He added that Mika is also the President of the National Federation of the Blind of Indiana Student Division. And yes, Mika is blind. I decided that I needed to stay longer so that I could cheer for her. She not only competed, but also coached another young woman who seemed to be the only African American competitor. I received the permission of her mother and grandfather to publicly share my own admiration for Mika. They also introduced me to Mika after her race. Exactly as her family had warned me, she too acted as it was not a big deal that she had competed and qualified for the Adaptive rowing world finals in Boston. She however shared the fact that, sadly, she will not make the trip due to a shortage of funds.

Witnessing the strength of the human spirit in overcoming such great odds filled me with awe and brought me to tears – of joy! So, back to my erg-ing… let’s hear again, what was your excuse, Z?

Start with the end in sight

What is your system for accomplishing something you do not enjoy doing or simply find really hard to do? Just in case this reminds you somewhat of one of the "7 habits of highly effective people" (begin with the end in mind), this is not a repeat! This is a personal insight about practical ways to achieve that goal in mind, which came, again, from my athletic endeavors. In this case I should rather say my efforts to keep my commitment to stay healthy though daily physical activities.

It’s too cold again to row outside so I am back to the rowing machine (!!) I do not enjoy using the erg (rower's slang for rowing machine), but I do want to stay healthy and in shape. So I promised myself that no matter how much I hated it, I will use the erg for 35 min (yea, all you serious athletes can have a good laugh!) in the morning, several times a week. When I can row outside, on the water, an hour flies by easily, but I have to drag myself to get on the erg… It has helped that I finally developed the capacity to relax my brain while I use it, which in turn allows me to... think, something which came spontaneously when rowing outside. This might be my first erg-inspired post!

So this morning, when I forgot to set the timer to count down from 35 min as usual, after two minutes of trying to achieve my daily goal, I realized I will not be able to do it this way around, i.e., with the timer counting up! The odd discovery that I was able to make myself erg if the timer is shaving off from my goal (I can see the end), but not if I had a seemingly open-ended task ahead of me (psychologically, each move adding to it), set in motion my thinking about the process that allows me to accomplish goals through tasks I do not enjoy.

If I need to do something I do not like, the first effort is getting my brain engaged to make the commitment to the goal, then the brain will drag my body into it. And should the smallest thing come up, my brain tends to immediately find any excuses for which I should quit… On the other hand, when I enjoy doing something, my body does not need my brain to get engaged. My brain only jumps in should something that threatens to require me to quit; only then my brain finds all kinds of reasons (excuses?) for which I should still persist. Thus, I need to set a worthy mental goal and a concrete end for the task needed to achieve it. If the goal has value to me then I will just “suck it up” and go through the motions to accomplish it. I believe some may define it as “keeping the eye on the ball.” As a tactic, translating the goal into a concrete target, i.e., setting the time, distance, or number of repetitions, helps keeping me focused and makes it more manageable – then I can actually enjoy the feeling of “shaving off” my task: I have the end in sight.

The sports-inspired strategy works in life in general and business. First, defining a goal that is meaningful or a clear vision is essential. Then, translating them into tasks that are measurable and keeping count makes it doable. New research http://bit.ly/4sHSM indicates that “grit”, defined as perseverance, may be more important than intelligence or native talent to succeed. Not surprisingly it was found that it was essential to find a goal that can motivate us and sustain our interest long-term to summon up the grit… Where there is a will for an end in sight, there is a way!

Added note: Erg-ing after posting this got me... thinking: "what might I be losing by using this method?" The first thing that came to mind was limiting my goal. Of course, I am used to always exceeding them! What is the possibly I might go beyond 35 min counting up? Slim, I really tried several times. So, instead I started the process of talking myself into setting the timer to 40 min as one of my goals for the new year...
I also included a gadget to the right side - you can set it for your own challenge and see if my countdown tactics works for you!

Putting it all together – the “renaissance” competitor

The other weekend I went to cheer for friends (and secretly figure out if it was something I should consider…) participating in a “mini” triathlon that includes swimming (0.5 mi=750 m), biking (12.4 mi=20 Km), and running (3.1 mi = 5 km). The display of human determination and energy was amazing and inspiring. So many things blew me away that it was hard to rank them, so here are some in no particular order:

• Each of parts taken separately is a challenge in itself to the average person. All these people – and there were a few hundred - had been willing to train for and able to compete in all three of them.
  
• Beyond the energy expenditure needed, the mini-triathlon requires also the willingness to deal with the unpredictable – weather/water conditions - and the predictable discomfort. They not only had to bike and run after swimming, but they also did it in wet wear!
  
• Most people I talked to at the end of the race appeared to be competing against themselves, foremost keeping track of their own progress: some had competed previously, many were planning to train and come back within the next months. While there were enthusiastic cheers for every one crossing the finish line - indeed a major achievement, no prizes or trophies were distributed…
  
• Some of the people did not fit the “image” of the athlete, some appeared to be overweight, some had some sort of clear movement impairment, most were beyond the age associated with physical prowess. I was reminded again how misleading the appearances can be.

Moreover, I could not help but admire not only the technical excellence and endurance, but also the overall preparedness and the ability to think clearly under stress of these athletes. In fact, if I had to pick one thing that was the most amazing to me while watching this challenge – it was the “behind the scenes” competitors’ ability to manage the “transition time”. I understand that the times needed to don the biking gear after getting out of the water, walk the bike to the start line, then shed it all for the running shoes, were all added to the overall time. No doubt a lot of preparation went into having just was needed in terms of different gear pieces. Add to that laying down all these items and then donning or shedding them in the right order, when tired and with the clock ticking, was nothing short of a major tactical system. Way too cool, I just discovered a check list for triathlon transitions ! I’d say the handling of the swift and efficient transition from one challenge to the next under stress is one of the most difficult to find, but probably most useful abilities in the business world these days.

This made me think that the tri-athletes would likely do very well in whatever they put their minds to. No matter how these people appeared at first sight, they all had determination, endurance, versatility, clarity of mind under stressful conditions and used these qualities to constantly challenge their own abilities to get better. I wonder how frequently such transferable skills are taken into account when people are assessed for hiring or assigned professional responsibilities…

In memoriam: Armin’s wish was granted

And so it goes, and so it goes… life is short, but if we get lucky we get to live it at its fullest and leave the way we wish.

This past week we got the sad news that one of our fellows rower died. Armin passed away while rowing in a double with his rowing buddy, Ed. It was of great comfort to all of us to learn about those last moments. Thank you, Ed, for writing such an inspiring message in spite of your own pain to make it widely available to those who knew Armin, or at least could relate to his love of rowing.

Ed described Armin as being “among other things anti-establishment, a romantic, poet, artisan, father, brother and friend. He knew the value of friendship and once befriended he never abandoned the 'ship'." Indeed, Armin did not abandon their ship, he simply stayed the course until his wish was granted… This sad event allowed all to learn more about Armin than they had a chance to learn under normal circumstances. We learned that while Armin and Ed were planning to row together into their 80s, Armin’s personal wish was to pass away while rowing. Many of us who spend significant time on the water have similar “exit plans." A few years back, based on her wishes, I myself had spread the ashes of a previous rowing partner from a boat. It was sad but comforting for us to watch the white petals spread in the same time being slowly washed away. We toasted to her life with champagne and rowed back in silence. I do not know of what comes next or where she might be now, but I do think of her every time I row by the site. I am hoping that she has found peace.

Ed also told us about his last row with Armin that he felt “privileged to have shared his last moments and close his eyes” and he then spoke directly to Armin: “You will be missed my good friend, you will be missed. Thank you for being a part of my life. You are and always will be a part of my heart. You have finally found peace. Watch over us. You were never religious. I bet you were surprised to find the afterlife. You became a believer Friday night for I was present when you experienced in the words of the poet, Thomas Ady, 'the four angels round your head, one to watch , and one to pray, and two to bear your soul away'. How would I know, I saw the peace on your face.”

Tomorrow, June 14, 2009, rowers, family and other friends will hold a memorial service on the banks of the Chattahoochee river to celebrate Armin’s life.

It's a mental thing: Just keep going

Just this past weekend, several friends ran a mini-marathon (half marathon) among 35,000 other people!!! I could never do it myself, but I do have one good excuse: I row instead! I asked my friend Mihaela why she does it. She said it’s because of the positive effect of pushing herself beyond what seemed to be her limits (the competition against oneself!). She does it because it means getting involved in something that allows her to stay healthy, happy, and sane, to be in good company of other like-minded people, and last but not least, because of the joy and pride of succeeding… Mihaela, the long distance runner, added: “In the end, life itself is a marathon, we need to stay in shape for it!”

And what does it take? Obviously, if you decide to do something apparently extreme for your age, abilities, etc. - we are not talking only about an athletic endeavor - you will need to prepare mentally and physically: it will be… hard! If it were easy, anybody could do it, and then there would be no challenge to feel and speak about proudly for years to come. Then, you… “just do it!” Along the way, you have to be really diligent to distinguish between the real reasons for which it may make sense to consider giving up reaching the goal from the likely many clever excuses disguising themselves as important to us. Our brains are really good at making believe! Especially once you find yourself at the start line, you should not allow yourself to entertain the idea of not finishing your “race,” whatever that might mean in your case, except for a medical or technical emergency or some major disaster. Finally, do your very best!

If there is only one piece of good advice I would like to pass on, it’s the one I got myself from my aunt, ex-European rowing champion, when I finally found myself on the eve of my first 5K rowing race at the tender age of 40. I had watched with fascination her and her brother’s (my mother’s younger siblings) endeavors on TV. Both elite rowers, National and European champions, from my child perspective they both looked impossibly tall, strong, beautiful, young, and energetic, hero-like figures. Except, I also knew they were very human, ravaging our fridge at every visit, as they were eternally hungry! It may be this early deep admiration that made me eventually take up rowing after so many years…. my mid-life crisis? (I’d say it was a positive way to spend the surge of extra mental and physical energy.)

So, I called up my aunt and asked for her expert advice: “What secret tip do you have for my first 5 K race?” After what seemed a long silence at the other end: “Did you say this was your first? I assume you have no idea how hard this is going to be…” I panicked for a second (“Am I crazy to try this?”), then she continued: “That is OK! At some point it is going to start feeling hard, REALLY hard...” I plastered my ear closer to the receiver, expecting her to whisper some magic formula... “You will see no reason to continue the race… then… you will just need to KEEP GOING, just don’t stop!” I was stunned; “That’s it?!?” I was very disappointed, I had expected some major insider revelation from my extremely successful advisor that would give me the competitive advantage I so desperately needed. The answer came back, simple and practical: “Yes, that’s it! Just keep going, go through the motions, even if your brain will tell you to stop – it’s just lack of oxygen! That’s pretty much the major secret in a long race!”

P.S. As much as I did not think at the moment that I had gained any new competitive advantage, during that race and many others that followed in rowing and in life, I had plenty of opportunities to remember my coach’s advice… it works!

Getting the high and the glow the healthy way

This morning when the alarm clock went off, it was like trying to resurface from the depth of a dark ocean. My eyelids were so heavy I could barely pull them up. No chance of moving any of my limbs… or so it felt. I had worked late into the wee hours of the morning, again! I briefly considered blowing off my exercise and sleeping another hour, but then I gathered all the determination I was capable of and somehow stumbled into my boat and onto the water. After a few minutes of easy rowing, I already felt better.

It never fails, this “high”: the surge of energy when I manage to get myself to work out even if initially I had thought I had none left. Maybe it’s the light recharging that pineal gland, which Descartes thought was the connection between our body and our intellect ; maybe it's the fresh air oxygenating my brain, or the movement of the water, sun and clouds. Whatever it is, I am then as able to work as after a very restful night. Working out in the sun also works wonders fr me when I am jet lagged.

And the "glow"? I come from the land of Transylvania (the real one). Being tanned and skinny was not cool in my grandparents' farmers community. Being tanned and skinny were characteristics of people working all day long in the fields. On the other hand, being pale skinned, maybe a bit pink, and plump was a luxury only well off people could afford. I will never forget the subtle disappointment expressed by my grandmother upon meeting my soon-to-be-husband: “He is handsome…. but he is surely dark skinned”…

I now live in a society where people are obsessed with being tanned and skinny. They are willing to pay serious money to be spray-painted with brown chemicals and to lose weight by any possible, as well as close to impossible means…

So where do I stand on this issue? Well, I do prefer being tanned and toned, even if not skinny... I also truly enjoy working outside, but my actual work does not really call for that. I am making time to be outside and work out in the sun. And, I don’t mind receiving compliments for my brown glow. What would my grandmother say if she could only see me now…

Thinking about those New Year resolutions

It's that time of the year.

Standing at the threshold, ready to step into the New Year: looking back, gazing forward… Already considering what would we like to conclude about the year 2009 one year from now, when standing in the same position. I wrote on another blog , that 2009 could be the year of "innovating thyself," by meeting new people, learning new things, adopting new causes or hobbies. All could help us gain a new perspective on things and I believe make us better people and by extension contribute to a better new world. I want to further explore how we might gain a new perspective on ourselves in the process.

We all know what we want (or are supposed to!), but one all encompassing resolution might be… obtain whatever we are wishing for the "right way". Sounds too dogmatic or restrictive? Maybe not! Someone asked: "but what if I wish for more power or money?" That's OK! Let's consider if there is a "right way" to achieve such wishes. If that seems a non-starter to you, maybe it would help to step back and delve into the reason for the wish. There is always another, deeper reason for it, and this might be buried so deep that even you do not recognize it at first. A friend of mine instructed me to discover the deeper motivation behind anything I wish to accomplish by asking myself "why?", and after getting an answer, insisting in asking myself twice more: "…but why?!?". It seemed to work in most cases for me: as soon as I had gotten an answer from my first "why?" question, I would drill into that answer, then once more into the following one. The third answer frequently surprised me. So, if this works for you too, whatever the deeper hope, fear, or hunger turns out to be, there might be another – hopefully better - way to satisfy it.

Let's assume you discover that the desire for power is rooted into the need to reassure yourself of being great, or maybe the need to be admired or loved by others. If that happens to be your case, I think you will discover that there are hundred ways you could achieve any of these goals, in ways that also would benefit the others, rather than alienate or obstruct them. You would likely be more sincerely admired and loved if you are a genuinely great person, rather than if you simply have a higher position. When it comes to proving to your own self, is it conceivable you would not know deep inside you cannot possibly be great if you had to cheat to win the race?!? As an additional benefit, your happiness will not live or die based on your own promotion going through, or the size of your bonus in 2009… This might also set you free to implement some of those great ideas you have been afraid to bring forward due to fears of endangering your plan because due to challenging the status quo... By the way, setting yourself free from your old fears is not only the recipe for pure happiness, but might just be the secret ingredient to make your promotion happen!

The best chance for personal contentment in 2009 will come from deciding ahead of time what (and who) we would like to see in our personal rearview mirror one year from today.

Have a great New Year!

Going against the wind

Seems that if I am on the water on a windy day, no matter which way I need to row, somehow I always end up going against the wind! A big challenge, especially for the delicate balance of a one person boat, as opposed to sailing, where the wind is your friend. The wind ruffles the water which in turn messes up with my ability to steady my boat. Worse, when rowing against it, the wind pushes into my back and my oars, creating tremendous resistance against moving the boat forward (if you are reading this and wondering what am I talking about: the rower’ back is toward the leading end of a rowing boat).

So what’s one to do when having to row against a strong wind? I had asked the rowing camp coaches this question. They all gave me a large smile and a halfway serious answer: “You do not leave the dock!” ...“But what if I have no choice” I insisted, “what if the wind starts after I am already on the water and I have to make it back safely, or what if I had already signed up to compete in a race and day turns out to be windy?” I got no better answer after that either, probably the coaches were worried about sending a beginner into the wind. So I persisted any chance I got, I asked the more experienced rowers for their advice. Best technical advice came from faraway rowing friends, Viking descendants, who shared their tips perfected from routinely braving the Nordic waters (e.g., to decrease resistance, shorten the time the oars are out of the water and work like a sail against the wind). I turns out it was really good I had insisted asking this question beforehand, as indeed, I soon found myself in dire need to row in tough weather conditions. I diligently tested all advice I had received. After perfecting my approach to rowing in stormy conditions for a few years, I can finally offer my own view about the main “secret” of braving adverse external conditions. More importantly, I came to the realization I could apply the same principles to help me get through tough times in my personal and professional life.

I found that what matters most while having to brave harsh external conditions is discovering and engaging one’s internal “gyroscope”. We all have one! My brush with Yoga and Pilates helped me to conscientiously engage my center of gravity (located I feel at the center of my body, also called the “core”) to maintain my balance in such testing times. I found that being able to concentrate on my core brings amazing stability at times when the rest of the world seems to be in turmoil. When rowing, the wind is violently rocking my boat side to side, and my oars hit or catch unevenly the waves on the two sides: sometimes I miss my catch, sometimes I go too deep into the water. Boat becomes frighteningly unsettled. On top of it, due to strong wind resistance I row in place, it’s like being in a nightmare I cannot escape! Then, I conscientiously overcome my panic response to the powerful outside influences and I concentrate on bringing all my power into my own center. I begin to feel how this becomes very heavy: I am now pinned down solidly by gravity. All of the sudden I seem to be connected to the Earth's core by an invisible string stretched just enough to allow me to smoothly glide on its curving surface. My own center is stable, even as the whole world around me seems to whirl around in a storm. The previously awful hauling slowly fades away into the periphery of my perception, as I smoothly and silently slide between air and water. The wind feels just a fast rush of cold air on my skin and it is now exhilarating. I return safely to the dock and it feels good, really good. I was able to mount the extra muscle power to overcome elements’ resistance and I was able to keep my mental cool.

Thus I have learned "mind over matter" from my "mind over water" technique. The willingness to prepare for and then to take the challenge taught me to summon my core power: strengths, beliefs, values, and hopes, to minimize the influence of external adversity, and to actually turn challenge into a personal victory. I think this might resonate also with martial arts philosophy? I will have to check and come back on that.

For now, I think I could go ahead allow myself to have that brownie with my hot coffee.