True Life

You are here...don't panic.

In thinking about today’s post, I stumbled on a familiar question, "Why does my life feel so chaotic?"  Immediately, I bristled.  Crap!  I don't wanna write about that…why my existence seems to be in an apparent constant state of disarray and how I feel powerless in the face of it much of the time.

Before I poo-pooed it, I decided to check in on my good friend, Google.  Chaos couldn’t only mean “confusion and disorder.”  If that’s the case, why have a “Chaos Theory” for example?  Just to explain how screwed we are?  That seems too cruel.

Wikipedia says chaos theory is used in “studying the behavior of dynamical systems that are highly sensitive to initial conditions,” presumably as a predictive tool to aid in identifying how to respond in these systems with an eye on achieving a more favorable outcome.  Reading this, I felt a little less bristly.  A little less screwed.

That’s because the notion of my life being merely confused and disorderly connotes that my actions upon the system of my life have no impact.  No matter what I do, I can't change anything because the continuation the confusion and disorder is inevitable.  It makes me feel like I have no power, and that makes me feel like I wanna give up.  It feels passive, and it feels like victim mentality.

And I don’t wanna be a vicitim.

As I read on about chaos, however, I realized a few things:

1. There is a "method to the madness" of chaos.  Even though the system might be too complex for my brain to perceive offhand, events in my life are following a logical pattern.  They’re responses to an “initial condition” that triggered them, and they’re following a trajectory.  The course of my life intersects with other “conditions” and evolves, sometimes erratically.  Yet, outward and immediate appearances aside, it’s not random.

2. It’s “deterministic,” which means that it’s possible to trace the course back to the “initial condition” that created the system (i.e., Bill’s life) in the first place.  It is, however, not “predestined,” which means that the end hasn’t been written yet.  I am not locked into one inevitable outcome, and possibility and potential are still valid.  I am afforded the luxury of envisioning a desired outcome and, at the very least, influencing the course to steer toward that outcome.  This is good news, because it means that understanding how I got right here, right now, is doable.  Even better, I can use that knowledge to take action and navigate away from endings I don’t want, and to the ones I do want.

[side note: Conceivably, this also means that applying the writer's tool of starting with your desired ending and then working backward to identify the steps to getting there can be applied to life as it is in movies, ala the LIFESCRIPT training my friends at Sagepresence use to help people live into their best life stories.  I mean, it's a theory, right?  It's there not only to describe past or present states, but also to model potential future states.  In other words, the very existence of chaos theory lends credence to the notion that we can proactively design our future in a manner of our choosing and then chart a course to it.  This is not your father's version of chaos..!]

3. In order to be chaotic, the system being observed has to be "topologically mixing.”  Through the course of evolving—in fact, in order to evolve—a particular “region” in the system will overlap with all other regions.  Metaphorically speaking, it means that transformation REQUIRES taking the good with the bad, the pain with the pleasure.  Interesting.  Good to know that ahead of time and prepare for that.  Expect it, knowing that’s not pessimism.  Rather, it confirms the whole “It’s not easy, but it’s worth it” notion.  Hard and painful things aren’t obstacles; they’re as much part of the trip as the good stuff.  You can’t help but get a little from column A and column B (not to mention columns C, D, E, F, and so on, and even some columns you never even heard of before) along the way because it IS the way.

Yes, the whole chaos thing also means...damn! This life thing is a freakin' complex system with a lot of actors and reactors all, erm, acting on each other at every freakin' point along the way, and it's virtually impossible to keep up with the whole unfolding, much less control it.

Then again...maybe we're not supposed to control it.  One application for chaos theory has been to attempt to predict weather patterns to help commercial aviators navigate more safely to their desired destination.  It ain’t about changing the weather…it’s about course correction in the face of it.

Maybe by accepting the thing exists, embracing it, even, we can…influence our course.  Because chaos isn’t the question.  It’s the answer.  As we understand it better, and as we understand the systems of our lives better, we can more effectively navigate the paths we tread through our lives.  Not to master the Universe, because that’s asking too much.  But to live better and be more at ease in the system, knowing it's okay that the best we might be able to do is to guide ourselves safely home.  And, if we’re really on our game, maybe to beat our own butterfly wings here and there in hopes of shifting the winds in our favor.

Peter Drucker saves the day

The late (and legendary) Peter Drucker had a really interesting take on the notion of responsibility.  According to him, responsibility has a direct relationship with—and is likely synonymous with—authority.  He went onto explain it, saying that when someone takes responsibility for something, they are making an explicit claim that they have the authority (tangible, moral, or otherwise) to attend to it or to see it to fruition.

Drucker went on to assert that validating claims of responsibility according to this test was essential to creating and maintaining a healthy socioeconomic system.  This applied to both responsibility assumed and responsibility bestowed.

Although this implies larger societal implications of bake my noodle proportions, it struck me most profoundly in the most micro of economic levels.  The economics of Yours Truly.

Taking responsibility for things I have no business having my mits in is classic Bill True.  I’ve definitely subscribed to the “more is more” mentality, and it’s gotten me into a lot of trouble in the past.  It’s always been well intentioned, of course, an effort to help out or do a good turn or whatnot.  I’ve learned some hard lessons, though, as I've failed to keep promises time after time because I wasn’t in a position or didn’t have the ability to keep them.  It's cost me credibility, business, and even friends.  After all, the road to Hell is paved with tons of those little suckers, right?

To date, all I’ve really been able to do is recognize it as a shortcoming of mine.  I know it’s a problem, I know when it’s happened, and I know how to circle around and grovel for forgiveness when I’ve really gotten myself into a pickle.  That, and I’ve turned flogging myself over it into an art form.  What I couldn’t see yet was a way to proactively sidestep the pitfall of over promising and under delivering (or worse, not delivering at all).

Peter Drucker, turns out, is my hero.  He’s given me the answer.  Finally, I have really good litmus test to determine whether or not opening my trap is the right thing to do.  From now on, when that little voice whispers in my ear, “You know, Bill…” I am going to take a moment and ask myself two important questions:

1.     1. Do I have, at present, the ability in terms of time, connections, experience, and knowledge to deliver on the promise of assistance I am about to make?

2. Even if I have the ability, is taking on the work associated with this promise really the best thing for either me or the other person?

For years I've struggled with saying no to people because I’ve been afraid that doing so would jeopardize my relationship with them.  I’m a people pleaser.  It’s what we do.  It’s more than that, though.  I’ve also had difficulty seeing whether or not making the promise would adversely impact the relationship later because I wouldn’t be able to fulfill it.  Moreover, I didn’t have a simple and compelling definition that helped me see it when it’s happening, as well as to understand how and why it’s not only bad for me, but also bad for society in general.  In other words, I didn’t have a strong argument with respect to possible negative future impacts, should I make the promise, that could overcome my desire in the moment to say yes.

Now I do, and I’m excited to try it out.  So if I tell you “no” in the coming days, weeks, months, and years, don’t be offended.  I’m simply contributing to the socioeconomic health of you and me…and to the whole wide world.

I am waiting for Vicini!

After I hit publish on the last two posts, I fretted.  I worried that they weren’t dynamic or groundbreaking or clever enough.

On one hand, the fretting is all me.  It’s one of my favorite pastimes, and I am really good at it.  On the other hand, the fretting speaks to a deeper issue—a truth—that’s important to mention.

I dove back into the blogsphere because a good friend of mine in the self-help/professional development world encouraged me to do so.  She thought I had a lot to say about “getting real” in the personal and professional realms that people needed to hear.  That felt good, and I was excited about the prospect that my words could help people.  When it came down to sitting in front of my keyboard, however, I froze.

I mean, I couldn’t write just anything.  People were counting on me!  I needed to be brilliant!  And cool!  No one would notice, much less care, otherwise.

Wait a minute…that didn’t make sense, either.

A very dear friend of mine told me something about Paul McCartney and the way he works.  Apparently, he sits down at the piano for three hours nearly every day.  He plunks and he plays, and, according to him, very little of it feels inspired.  Very little of it evolves into a hit song.

That story popped into my head again, and it gave rise to a thought: what if it was okay to just keep it simple?  What if it was okay to NOT be brilliant in this moment?  What if it was okay to give what I have right now…to keep it simple and basic, and just put something—anything—down?

Thus, the post “Confessions of a ‘Go for It' Guy” was born.  After I read the thing, I…well…you know.  But later I realized that by allowing myself to be where I was, not beat myself up for it, and then take a step forward anyway was a pretty brilliant stroke.

For one, it meant that I wrote something.  When you’re a writer, this is a pretty big deal.  It’s the “you can’t win if you don’t play” thing.  Any words on paper means there’s a chance you might hit pay dirt.  No words on paper means a zero percent chance that’s going to happen.

For another thing, I realized that most basic concerns in my life, like how I stay on task to achieve my aspirations or how I deal with anger, might be the same things that vex other people, too.  Suddenly, worrying about being dynamic and groundbreaking and clever felt kind of selfish.  Meeting myself at the intersection of energized and nervous, being honest with myself, and walking forward despite my urge to run away…all of a sudden felt pretty dynamic.  And groundbreaking.  And maybe even clever.

It definitely felt real.  And helpful.  That made all the difference and relaxed my furrowed brow.