Coudla, shoulda, woulda.

I can't remember if I've posted on this topic before, but sometimes I really detest the word 'should' and the role it plays in life.

Today, Michael and I have been married for six months. And it's been wonderful. After training this morning and running some errands, I wanted to spend the day in bed with him watching Masters of Sex and reading.

But sure enough, as I got the laptop fired up and prepared by stack of magazines by the bed, it started.

You should spend this time working on your business instead of slacking off. 
Don't you have some chores to do? You should be doing those right now. 
Are you really going to spend the day in bed? You should be blogging. 

I call these guys the 'shouldas'.

Does this happen to anyone else? It's really insidious and to my mind, inextricably linked with guilt. Guilt for the things you should have done, guilt for the things you should be doing, guilt for the things that you wish you'd done later on.

In the end, it got too difficult and I gave up on my luxury day in bed. I oftentimes find on weekends if I give myself an opportunity to relax, the shouldas start up in my brain. I sometimes sit down to rest or read on weekends and end up napping. Whether this is a sign that I'm exhausted, or whether it's the only way for my body to ignore the 'shouldas' in brain, I don't know.

I often wonder if this affects highly ambitious or effective people. People who have lots of plans, goals, lists, ambitions. For those people, the shouldas are their voices calling the to action to get working on the life they want and dream of and telling them they shouldn't be complacent.

I realised today is that all the plans and goals in the world are pretty unattainable if I don't let myself off the hook now and then. When you keep thrashing yourself, it becomes harder and harder to achieve the things on that big life list.

That was the most frustrating thing about today - a day earmarked for rest and relaxation, which felt anything but.

So how do we turn that voice off? How to get to a point where we aren't a slave to the shouldas in our lives?

x

Happy Easter!

This Easter has been wonderful. For the first time in many years, I / we haven't gone away or had tonnes of commitments, and it's been great. We've just pottered and I've had lots of time to reflect and think.

One of the things that I have been reflecting on is mindfulness. I know I've talked about that on this blog before, but times like Easter (where we are encouraged to gorge ourselves on chocolate, despite the fact that Australians eat 4.5 kilograms of chocolate year), I find that the notion of mindful eating particularly gets a bit away from us. How often have we nibbled on chocolate (or any food for that matter, particularly at festive times) to the point where we didn't realise how much we've eaten / feel completely ill / self flagellate over our lack of self control?

I think I've gotten much better at avoiding over eating over the years, but last night we went out for dinner with friends and I ate waaaaay too much - cue, waking up with a food hangover (this is an actual thing - see here).

Whenever the food hangover hits, I find myself thinking about the Japanese principle of hara hachi bu. 

Hara hachi bu is grounded in Confucian philosophy. It encourages people to eat until they are 80% full. This encourages you to eat mindfully, thinking about the food being consumed. The idea is that this practice curbs excessive eating and slowly teaches you to learn how to stop when you have eaten enough.

I should say at this point, I'm not about demonising food. I really do believe in 'everything in moderation.' I just find this often difficult to exercise when eating out and being served massive portions, and particularly difficult when I am busy. These times, I'll often find myself eating - on the go, while watching TV, talking with friends - without really thinking about it (I think everyone knows this feeling - starting with a packet of Tim Tams and realising the entire package is gone).

Which leads back to eating mindfully. The New York Times did an excellent piece on this a few years back which I often find myself referring to:

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/08/dining/mindful-eating-as-food-for-thought.html?_r=0

The other thing that feeds in to this, of course, is emotional eating and drinking - reaching for the wine, chocolate, pizza, whatever - when we are feeling stressed and harried, simply telling ourselves that we deserve it for making it through a difficult  day / week.

So my goal for this week is to remember to slow down (in life generally), and think about what I'm actually eating / drinking. It certainly takes more time, and requires you to consider what you're actually putting in your mouth, but with a huge bowl of chocolate eggs staring at me as I type this post, I think it's very necessary.

Let's do the time warp, again...

Time! When you think of all the sayings about time, it really does feel like a scarce commodity.

Time is getting away from me.

There's just not enough time.

I don't have time.

In the interest of saving time.

It's like this mysterious, fleeting thing, slipping away from us and evading us when we need it the most. Who ever feels like they have enough time?

The realisation I have (very slowly) drawn over the last few months is that time is ultimately created, and controlled, by me. Yes, I accept that there are 24 hours in each day (and thanks to all the meme creators who helpfully remind me that I have 'the same amount of hours in the day as Beyonce'), but really, beyond that, time is spent on what I choose. It's not a mystery. It doesn't 'get away' from me. It doesn't escape me. Whenever I feel as though there's not enough time, what is invariably happening is that I'm not spending time doing the things I love, or doing the things that will enrich my life in some way.

Gay Hendricks explores this in his excellent (but yes, a little wacky) book 'The Big Leap'. According to Hendricks what we should be doing is,  instead of viewing time in the Newtonian manner, viewing it in an "Einstein" or genius manner. The central tenant of Einstein time is that is we control our time and in doing so, control the things we spend our time doing and ultimately achieving. According to Hendricks, “You’re where time comes from.”

It's all very confronting, and at the same time, very empowering. To view time as something that is created, and controlled, within us, rather than this elusive and all-too-scarce resource. I had a moment considering this last week when undertaking some time management training, which reinforced this idea and used Eisenhower's urgent / important matrix to show where we should be allocating our time.  It gave me pause to consider how much time I really spend:

• procrastinating (social media? Hilarious internet cats? I'm looking at you)
• worrying (did I turn the iron off? Am I going to be late? I have to get there!)
• frantically rushing to other people's deadlines and timelines (just because people tell you it's urgent, doesn't necessarily mean that it's true)
• doing things that simply don't matter (endless loads of washing, stacking the dishwasher, re-sorting my socks)

The really interesting thing about this is that, even with all this time 'wasted', I am still pretty efficient and super productive. So, if I spent less time doing these sort of things, what could I be achieving with those additional hours in the day?

With all this in mind, I've decided to take back control of my time, and to that end (and as part of time management training that I am doing through work) downloaded the app Hours Keeper, which I'll be using from tomorrow. Guess it's time to find out exactly how much of my life is dedicated to buzzfeed quizzes....  

Some wise words from a wise people (no gold, frankincense and myrrh though)

My oldest and dearest friend shared a piece of insight with me the other day.

Let me set the scene - me, completely frazzled, having an exhausting week, freaking out. I call him up in anticipation of a very difficult conversation that I am about to have at work which I've been dreading (think sleepless nights, tears). As I'm muttering incoherent nonsense down the phone about how it's all too much, he said 'do you know what I've realised about work? You don't have to care about it. You do have a duty of care, yes, but you don't have to actually CARE'.

So true. Although I'm generally pretty good at 'switching off' when I leave work, I do often find myself thinking about work outside work hours (in a very non-mindful way too, mostly stressing about stuff to come and worrying about what has already happened).

Off the back of this pearler, another professional acquaintance and I caught up for a coffee the other day. We were chatting about work stuff, and I was commenting on how down people in my office were at the moment, and how I felt as though I was constantly issuing words of advice or comfort, and she said 'Ah! But there are no prizes for trying to fix every thing for every one. No one will thank you for it'.

Again. Wise. What I've taken from this is that I need to care less. I don't mean callous disregard for others and their feelings, but just to put a barrier between myself and issues that come up. I find that I am constantly anxious and taking stuff on when, really, I have no bandwidth left.

The final piece of the puzzle came from Naomi Simson, the founder of Red Balloon. She spoke at a breakfast I attended the other day, and shared this insight (in reference to an earlier job of hers at IBM in New York). She talks about how she had to work one weekend which, incidentally, was the same weekend a dear friend was flying around the world to visit her. She recalls having a debate about whether to attend to the work stuff (which by all accounts, was important), or to spend time with her friend. She said that in the end, she realised that her employers, years and months on, would never remember whether she showed up that weekend or not. They may be annoyed that she didn't work, but ultimately, they would forget. So she chose to spend time with her friend, who valued her time and energy far greater, and created memories that they would share for decades to come.

So this all boils down to this - really, if I am going to give so much of myself to people and matters, it should be the people and matters I choose, not just the stuff that gets my attention first. I would much prefer to give the problem solving, caring, energy to the people and projects that actually energise me, not exhaust me (and exhausted pretty much sums up how I feel at work at the moment).

It seems so simple, I really do wonder why it took me so long to figure it out.

Have a great week.

The addiction

I've often thought about how much I rely on my phone. Not so uncommon for someone in this day and age, and especially not so uncommon for a Gen Y. It's definitely something I notice - in myself, in my husband, in my sister, in my friends. 

As bad as I know it is, I often check my phone when I am in the car. I know, I know. Not only is it down right illegal, but it's unnecessary, distracting, and just plain silly. 

So I was given an awful wake up call this morning. 

I got into work and had the following discussion with a colleague. 

Him: Were you working from home this morning? 

Me: No, why? 

Him: Because I saw that you accepted my meeting request as soon as I sent it. 

Me: Oh. Yeah, I just accepted it on my phone. 

Him: When you were driving?

Me: (sheepishly). Yeah... I guess. 

At this point he laughs knowingly, so of course I get on the defensive and ask what he's laughing at. 

Him: Well, I'm not surprised you check your phone when you're driving. You're always on it!

Me: What do you mean? 

Him: Whenever I come into your office, you regularly check your phone. You'll often reply to texts and emails whilst we are talking. 

Me: Surely not. 

Him: Yes, definitely. 

Me: I don't do that!
Him: Yes, yes you do. 

Me: How frequently?  

Him: I'd say once every 5 minutes. You often interrupt the conversation to say 'hang on, I just need to reply to this', so I just wait until you're done. But then you've often forgotten what we were talking about.

I was mortified. Not because I interrupt conversations to do things on my smart phone (though that's pretty awful), but because I didn't even realise that I was doing it. It's so rude, and ironically, something I am really critical of in other people. 

So, wake up call received. I've told my colleague that the next time he comes in to talk, I'll be putting my phone in a drawer. 

Wish me luck! 

The stories we tell ourselves...

I have been thinking over the last few days about the stories we tell ourselves.

I'm a pretty highly strung person, so it's not uncommon for me to feel stressed, anxious, overwrought, busy, on edge (sounds delightful doesn't it?). But lately I've noticed that often, my tendency to experience these feelings is driven largely by own perceptions - specifically, the stories I tell myself  - rather than external stressors themselves.

My reasoning goes something like this....

I will feel stressed, overwhelmed, busy. I will start acting frantically, getting in a rush, worrying about how I am going to get it all done. Then I start multi tasking,  scribbling to do lists, juggling, trying to fit it all in. My day becomes an endless stream of open tabs, half finished emails, conversations that have trailed off because I'm already negotiating my next task in my mind. It's frustrating  - for me, and for the people around me (because as a result of this sort of behaviour, I have the attention span of a paperclip).

So, invariably, yes, that leads to more stress. And here's the kicker - it also often leads to guilt (for me anyway). You know the kind - when you read some awful story in the paper, and you feel dreadful because a natural disaster has wiped out dozens, hundreds of people on the other side of the world in a place you've never heard of, and here you are bitching about parking fines / your boss / the NBN dude not showing up on time (NOTE all actual examples of things I have complained about in the last week).

And then you feel like shit. Because you realised that you're not that busy, you've got no real reason to feel stressed, your problems are almost certainly of the first world variety.

So why are you stressed in first place?

It's the story. Not the to do list, or the NBN man, or the parking fine. It's the story that you tell yourself about those external things.

I can't believe that Bob wants me to finish that paper. If Bob wasn't so flanging incompetent I would have to step in and do the job - like I always do. 

I am so busy - I have no idea how I am going to get all this done. I need to finish this email, call that person, get stuff for dinner, pick up my dry cleaning - when does it end?

Why did I eat all that ice cream? What a fatty I am - and I won't be able to make it to the gym for two days because I have to work late. 

These are all thoughts that swirl around my mind - and I'd bet others' minds too (or variations thereof) - on a regular basis. As a result, I find myself stressed and overwhelmed even before I start doing what I think I need to do. I would wager that most people have a relatively consistent story that they tell themselves  - around being busy, about the only person who can get the job done right, about having no spare time, about being fat, about no one liking them. Makes for a self fulfilling prophecy, and a vicious and unhappy cycle.

So how to circumvent? Remind your brain that these are just stories. Aim to catch yourself out next time you tell the story.

There's that old story about everyone else being incompetent. 

It's my busy story!

Now I am telling myself that old story about being a fatty. 

It's not easy, but it works. And the brilliant thing is, once you've started to recognise the story, you can start to replace the story with facts, or, even better, replace it with a good story (Bob is asking for my help because he values my input, I can simply choose not do some of those tasks today, I ate the ice cream because ice cream is delicious and a sometimes food). 

I'm trying very hard to do this. I'm noticing that it has made me a lot calmer.

Now, I am off to eat some ice cream. Because it's delicious, and a sometimes food.

Don't worry, you can do anything you put your mind to - ANYTHING!

One of the wonderful things of living in a politically stable, wealthy first world society is the fact that most people (this is a generalisation, of course) don't need to spend a great deal of time worrying about how to obtain life's basics - food, water and shelter.  Rather, we tend to spend our time aiming for higher level achievements - promotions at work, starting small businesses, pursuing creative interests.

To this end, one of the concepts that has firmly entered the zeitgeist as we have become more and more privileged is the idea of limitlessness. You can do anything! Believe in yourself! Anything is possible! 

Of course, this is fantastic on many levels - there's something to be said for self belief and determination and undoubtedly, that has led to more and more positive developments in our society as people are empowered by their own abilities to make a difference. Bravo, I say.

But on the downside, this way of thinking can lead to some pretty depressing consequences at times. When we are surrounded by messaging that tells us we can do anything, there's a nagging - and persistent -  voice for many that insistently whispers 'you can do anything with your life - and you're doing this? Why aren't you finishing that novel / starting that organic skin care business / developing a cure for cancer?'

Perhaps my inner brain is more critical than other peoples' (let's not open that can of worms!), but it's a trap that I think many people fall into and I'm certainly no exception. There can be a real feeling of failure and disappointment when you're reading inspiring stories about people who follow their dreams. Yes, those people are amazing, and for the most part, inspiring, but if you happen to reflect about these inspiring stories at a time when you're feeling hollow in your job or other aspect of your life, it can leave you feeling like you're not good enough. Alain de Botton touches on this in his excellent Ted talk. He talks about contemplating life on a Sunday evenings, where the gap between your hopes and dreams for your life and your reality seems insurmountable. The upshot of this is that we are left shaking our heads, wondering what went wrong and why you couldn't achieve all those things that you once set out to.

The other aspect (again, see the Ted talk) of our 'you can do anything society' is the implication that we can all do anything we set our minds to, and ergo, those who are living in poverty or hardship are somehow complicit in their failure - because, hey, if they'd followed their dreams and never quit, surely they would be super rich, and successful, right?

Because all it takes is determination...

So what's the upshot of all this? I'm not suggesting we shoot for the middle so that we avoid feelings of disappointment. I (for the most part) completely agree with self determination and the thought that a little tenacity and hard work can get you a long way. But there's a difference between dreaming big and beating yourself up for failures - perceived or otherwise. Maybe, when the gap between your reality and dreams seems huge, instead of thinking about how big the gap is, think about how far you've already come. I'd wager a guess that thinking about all the achievements in your life will give you far more inspiration than you thought.