Ideals in Motion

Disappointment

The judgment that often accompanies the comparison between actual and ideal is the great limiter on my aspirations for a fulfilling life. How so? One of the precepts I hold about ideals in motion is that I can only generally know what my ideal life is or will be. Too much detail, too many parameters, blocks the creative movement. Life is an open system. To impose all kinds of definitions on what is to be closes the system. Closes it to spontaneity, closes it to new opportunities. The limiter is that closed systems are, by their very nature, dying systems. My ideals need to be open to the juices of newness if I am going to keep them alive and moving. I need to be able to use my disappointment to keep my ideals in motion.

The use of disappointment as a tool for movement rather than a hammer for driving home the point of failure is a powerful reframe. When I experience disappointment (because I either let myself down or was let down by another) what is the self talk, what are the bodily sensations? For many, disappointment means I (or someone) failed to live up to an expectation. When I’m moving into new territory I will fail more often than not – even though I think I should know better!

The question that can often be triggered by disappointment is how have I not lived up to that ideal I had set for myself? This is a much different question than how did I not live into that ideal. The difference is in the learning the question makes possible. The difference is qualitative. Living “up to” implies there is no room for variance from a standard. The system is closed to alternatives. Living “into” makes room for different approaches, for different learning. The system is open to exploration and new possibilities may emerge. The ideal is kept in motion although its form has likely changed.

 

At Tsinghua University

I just returned from Beijing where I was invited by Tsinghua University (one of the top universites in China) to conduct four days of lecture/training on "Enterprise Leadership" for a group of 65 Chinese CEOs. They came eager to learn and not quite sure what to expect. They had been told the experience would be different from the traditional programs they had attended in the past – and therein lay a potential problem. When one enters a learning situation with the expectation that the learning that is available is dependant on some thing, some process, being different the responsibility for the learning has shifted. The shift moves the responsibility from the learner to the process (or the teacher). By focusing on either the process or the teacher as the vehicle for the learning it is far too easy to miss the lessons available. What seems to occur in such situations is the learner enters an observational space where the intent is to critique the process – how is it different and is that difference enough to stimulate new learning. Being an observational learner dramatically diminishes the potential learning that can be taken from any event.

As a writer I notice that there are times when the experience of writing can be like being in the position of the “observational learner”. When I write presupposing I need the “right” time, place or subject matter the process is difficult and it’s usually not pleasurable. Additionally, what I produce is often disappointing. The experience of disappointment is interesting because it presupposes a defined end product that wasn’t matched by the actual output. In simple terms, the writing is not ideal. And my disappointment is like the canary in the mine pointing out the potential danger.

More Starting Over...

The process of starting over is a frightening and incredibly disorienting proposition. Most will find it much easier to try to hold onto what was, will willingly pay the price of a slow erosion of passion, and will embrace the familiarity of what is known. Rare is the individual or organization that is voluntarily and deliberately willing to start over in order to keep their ideals in motion.

Starting over is like changing to a different station on the radio. In order to fully embrace and appreciate the music being played I have to let go of the music being played on the other stations. This doesn’t mean the other music is no longer available – it obviously is and I can always go back if I don’t like the new station.

Carrying this metaphor a step further, imagine we have been successfully and happily dancing to a waltz station and someone shifts us to a salsa station. In order to be able to fully “dance” with the music on the new station – to work in new steps, different rhythms, and to coordinate differently with my partner(s) – I have to be able to embrace and let go at the same time. I have to let go of the timing and flow that was familiar and comfortable with the waltz and embrace the excited rhythms of the salsa. This can be wonderfully exhilarating or maddeningly awkward. Which will depend on how quickly I can get to the point of truly starting over. Salsa is different than waltz… and when my station has been changed – when the competitive environment of my company has shifted – I need to be able to start over in order to sustain our success.