Author Archives: Sherri

When You Just Don’t Know What to Write About

It’s late Friday afternoon and my publishing deadline is Sunday.  I have no idea what to write about for this post.  It’s not that I lack topics.  I just lack topics that I actually want to write about and that you might want to read.  There is no overlap in that Venn diagram this week.  Writing is therapy for me, so it’s not that I haven’t been writing.  I’ve been writing furiously.  And, trust me, you wouldn’t want to read any of it.  Not if you like and respect me and want to continue to do so.  I am therefore doing what writers are supposed to do: just start writing.  My goal as a writer is to find language to express feelings and emotions.  When you are able to put words around something you sense, you are on the road to awareness and reconciliation.  I’ve got lots of stuff nudging at me.  Let’s see what comes out.

I’m guessing that you, like me, are getting dang tired of this pandemic.  I’m tired of the upward curve on deaths in the US that does not seem to be plateauing even after reaching 100,000.  I’m tired of the mental mood swings that run the range from gratitude that I have the means to stay home and enjoy doing it (most of the time) to raging at the injustice of how this virus is attacking our most vulnerable (both physically and economically) to fear that I’m not as safe as I think I am to frustration at how really, really badly I need a haircut to boredom with the same activities to self-flagellation around my own privilege and hubris.  And I’m tired of feeling tired.

The Pennsylvania Governor is set to move my county into the Yellow Zone next Friday, which brings with it many new freedoms.  Don’t really know what those freedoms are beyond some limited outdoor seating at restaurants but I am assured there will be more freedoms.  Will I really do anything different?  The Y won’t be open yet.  I doubt the in-person Weight Watchers workshops will start back up this soon.  Will I finally be able to go to DSW and get new “running” shoes? (I don’t really run.)  I know that whatever I’ll be doing, I’ll be wearing a mask and harshly judging (and avoiding) those who don’t.  I won’t be getting my hair cut.  I won’t be booking flights anywhere anytime soon.  And I won’t stop being wary of strangers that get too close (not that I was ever really comfortable with that, anyway).  I guess the bottom line is that I won’t feel “safe” and that is what I really want.

But enough of this Debbie Downer stuff!  There are also a lot of really GOOD things going on!  People are showing kindnesses to one another in very heartwarming ways.  We are taking care of each other and while we aren’t making everything all better, we are at least remembering our—and others’—humanity.  Let’s count up some of those good things.  For one, my family is now doing a weekly Zoom call.  I started Zooming with my Mom a month or so ago because I just wanted to see her face.  For Mother’s Day, a couple other family members joined in.  Last week, almost all of us were on the call and we’ve decided to make it a weekly thing.  Not a requirement, mind you.  But we now actually might get to see each other’s faces all together more than three times a year.  This is one of those pandemic workarounds that hopefully will outlast the virus.

I have discovered a local food pantry that I am now regularly supplying.  They have a list each week of what they need most and when I go to Costco, I pick up a few things along with my own list and drop them off.  This food pantry existed before the pandemic and will continue afterwards.  There has always been local need, it’s just more urgent now.  After the pandemic passes, the food pantry will still be needed and now I have a local outlet I can regularly support.  That makes me happy!

Speaking of Costco, when I went for my biweekly run yesterday, guess what?  Kirkland toilet paper was back!  Huge piles!  Like “normal”!  It didn’t even look like they were limiting amounts.  There were a bunch of us standing around the mountainous display just smiling.  Or, I think people were smiling.  Masks, you know.  But you can see it in their eyes.  “Feels like we’re getting back some semblance of normalcy!” I said to no one and everyone.  There were mumbles and head bobs of agreement.

Masks, by the way, have quickly become the fashion accessory du jour.  My Facebook feed is littered, now, with all kinds of nifty designs and breathable, washable fabrics.  I feel like buying more than the utilitarian ones I have now.  We’re going to be wearing these things for a while (or at least I hope so).  I want one of the ones that seem designed for working out.  I want at least one gator.  I might get one imprinted with an owl image.  One for the Philadelphia Eagles.  Maybe the Phillies.  The possibilities are endless!  AND, I don’t really need to put make up on if I’m going to be wearing one.

I’m saying Thank You a lot more these days, too, and I’m seeing others do it as well.  That’s something else I hope sticks around.  We’ve made “essential workers” heroes during this time.  Why weren’t we appreciating them more before all this?  The servers, the grocery store clerks and stockers, the garbage dudes, the mailmen.  People are actually seeing them now.  And appreciating what they do.  And saying Thank You.  Please don’t stop that.  Ever.

Tonight is Treat Night.  Trish and I do this every couple of weeks, usually on weigh-in day.  We split a cheesesteak for dinner along with a piece of pizza each.  There is usually a beer or a glass of wine.  To prepare for this, we eat “zero point” foods the rest of the day.  And we still go over our point allowance a bit, but it’s just one day.  I used to chow three pieces of pizza without taking a breath and barely remembering the taste.  Now, I savor that half a cheesesteak and that piece of pizza.  I love every bite.  It’s plenty of food.  It tastes delicious.  I am much more aware of food that I never really took a lot of notice of before.  Don’t get me wrong:  I love the way we eat now.  I’ve lost a bunch of weight and feel better and truly love the food.  I just have more appreciation for delicious food, any delicious food, because I am so much more mindful about eating.  THAT is something that I want to see stay after we have a vaccine and the extreme awareness we have around COVID-19 fades.  I want to see people stay more mindful about the people around them—family, friends, service providers, everyone.  Being kind to each other.  That would be a good outcome.

I feel better, now.  I’ve put words to some of those feeling nagging at me.  I’m guessing they’ve been nagging at you, too.  I guess I had something to write about after all.

Change

As we navigate through the stages of this pandemic, I’ve noticed a recent shift in discussion on the news shows.  They are clearly showing the strain of finding new topics to discuss, but this is a good one:  As  states and municipalities slowly relax stay-at-home orders (except here), people are asking, “Which of the changes we’ve had to make through this time of shut down are actually going to stick?”  Studies on “change creation” indicate that it takes, typically, 6-8 weeks of dedicated practice of a new habit for that change to become permanent.  Those studies don’t typically talk about that “dedication” being forced upon you, but the outcome is the same.  We’ve been “shut in” long enough, now, for some of the changes we’ve made to our daily lives to become permanent—if we choose.  Noodling on this concept has gotten me thinking a lot about the process of change.  (Needed disclaimer:  as with many of the concepts I write about, this topic could be a few PhD theses, none of which will be mine.  Much has been written on the topics of change management and change creation.  I am presenting only my own poorly researched observations.)

There are a lot of common sayings regarding change:  “Necessity is the mother of invention” (attributed to Proverbs); “The only thing constant in life is change” (attributed to Heraclitus); and “You go first” (OK, that one is mine).  Change is around us all the time, yet it is human nature to resist change—even change that would be considered in our best interest.  It’s not so much that we think that what we have is good enough or preferable.  It’s just what we know and whatever this “change” is, it’s something we don’t know.  That brings to mind another saying: “The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t” (another Proverb).  A great example of that is the computer I am typing on right now.  This Lenovo laptop is probably 5-6 years old.  In “computer years” that’s about 90.  It’s heavy.  It’s wonky.  The battery power sucks.  It can take forever to boot up.  Occasionally, a demon takes the thing over and I have to remove the battery to kill it. Now, I have enough money to buy a new laptop.   I am no technophobe; it’s not a big deal to me to switch over to a new system.  Why don’t I do it?  Well, there’s my well documented tendency to procrastinate.  There’s the fact that Trish keeps telling me I should get a new computer, which creates immediate resistance.  More than anything, though, I don’t do it because while there are things about this laptop that bug me, they don’t bug me enough that I feel the unknowns associated with getting a new computer are worth the aggravation and risk.  I know it will be better “on the other side”.  I just don’t want to go through the tangle of the change.

Let’s take a bigger, more critical issue for this nation: healthcare.  (Yes, I am going there.)  It is well documented that we spend more per capita on healthcare for worse outcomes than any other developed nation.  We are spectacular at expensive, heroic emergency care yet horrible at preventive care.  Our system of hundreds of different healthcare providers has led to an explosion of administrative costs relative to patient-facing costs.  And, of course, there are millions of Americans (27.5 million in 2018, about 8.5% of the population) without any health insurance at all.  Of those who have it, about 2/3 have private insurance, either through their employer or the commercial market and the other third are on programs like Medicare and Medicaid.  The one thing in common?  Most everyone complains about whatever healthcare system they have.  They complain about out-of-pocket costs.  They complain about availability.  They complain about the bureaucracy and red tape to get things done.  You’d think people would be clambering for some sort of change that would make healthcare simpler, less expensive, and more effective.  (DISCLAIMER: I am not endorsing any particular solution this problem.  I have my opinions, but I will keep them to myself.)  There are people truly suffering out there!  “Medical bankruptcy” is a real thing, for one, and lack of access to good care literally kills.  Why aren’t more people agitating for change?  Because for the vast majority of people, the system they have is good enough based on what they expect from it.  “The Devil You Know.”  When will change happen?  One way is when a critical mass of people are so horrifically underserved by the current system that only change is acceptable.  That’s what’s known as a “revolution”.  And it’s quite rare (and often bloody) for change to happen via revolution.  The other way is for leaders to show courage and compassion and press for change in the face of resistance.  Yes, it has happened.

During my work years I took many a course on “change management”.  I know all about the 20/30/50 rule: whenever you are trying to drive change, 20% of the people will be with you from the beginning; 30% will never accept the change fully; 50% are watching you and waiting for you to convince them to join the 20% or the 30%.  (Our natural tendency is to focus attention on the vocal negative 30% instead of the silent, convince-able 50%.)   There is another piece to change “creation”, though, that I’ve never heard discussed in these corporate settings—probably because it would make people too uncomfortable.  I have found that to move people to a particular change, you have to first propose something so out there and so unfathomable that the change you really want sounds reasonable in comparison.  Think about how merchants often present pricing on their products:  “You’ve seen cookware sets like this sell for $100, $200, or even $300!  But we will send you our outstanding set for the low, low price of only $40 (plus shipping and handling)!”  As you were watching the commercial, you may have been thinking “I’d pay $20 for that.”  If they had thrown out that $40 price tag, you’d think “no way!”  But by setting out that multi-$100 comparison, the $40 looks like a bargain.  We, um, used to do a version of this in setting customers’ price expectations for new products.  We never intended for them to pay the top price.  But the “middle” price, our real target, would have looked too expensive without it.

Creating organizational and cultural change is frankly no different.  That’s why negotiations never begin with what you really want to get.  And it’s why us more moderate thinkers need to be grateful for the radical fringes.  They push the boundaries of broad thinking so far out there that the more moderate changes we advocate for look reasonable.  Without that “out there” agitating, any change would seem “too much”.  Each time we achieve a moderate change, we need to push those edges out again.  That’s how progress happens.  Move the needle.  Get comfortable.  Have people that make you uncomfortable again.  Move the needle.  Think about the social and regulatory changes that have happened just over the last half century that are now the lowest level of acceptability but that were unthinkable not too long ago.  Want to go back to polluted drinking water and air that makes you choke?  Fifty years ago, that’s just how it was and any regulatory laws to change it were considered business-killing.  Guess what?  Businesses innovated, the air and water cleared, and those same businesses are more successful than ever.  “Necessity is the mother of invention.” Want invention?  Create necessity.  (Yes, I know regulations can go too far.  See last time’s essay on Balance for thoughts on that.)

So how does all this rambling about “change” relate to what we’re going through today?  We are navigating a huge disruption right now.  We’ve been shut in for a couple of months where I live and we have at least another few weeks to go.  And nothing facilitates “change” like disruption.  We have been forced to change how we do a lot of things out of necessity.  More people are working from home.  There is more of an emphasis on distance learning.  Both my Mom and I have learned how to use Zoom.  People are using online shopping for things they never did before, like groceries.  People have been starting up new businesses to support the needs of homebound customers.  This disruption has driven a lot of change, but most of that change has been around adoption of capabilities that were already there.  Telemedicine, as an example, has been around for a while.  But it has become more of a norm now that people have learned to navigate it.  I anticipate it will stay high on the menu of choices of consuming medical care. 

Some changes will stick, some will not.  We will almost certainly think about our lives “before COVID-19” and “after COVID-19”.  We are at an inflection point.  This is where real progress can be made.  Give some thought to what you’ve learned about yourself during this pandemic and which of these changes you want to make permanent. What have I learned?  I’ve learned that there are some changes that I fiercely do NOT want to stick.  I have learned how much I miss giving my Mom a hug.  I miss workouts and casual lunches with my bestie.  I miss the communal groan in a spin class when the instructor tells us to do something we don’t want to do and then we all do it anyway and share the joy of a tough workout.  I miss in-person connection and will work hard to remember to value community.  We’ve all stretched ourselves throughout this time.  Let’s make sure it was worth it.

Balance

Pandemic Diary Day….?  I’m not sure what day.  Like most people, I have a lot of time to think these days.  The thoughts are not always deep and insightful.  Often the thoughts are things like “What the heck is the tune that they use for the Sponge Daddy jingle?  I know that tune, but just can’t place it.”  I am embarrassed at how many times and ways I’ve tried to Google that.  My thoughts are also along the lines of “Why on earth do people throw such random trash out of their car windows?”  These thoughts happen on my walks around the neighborhood.  Or when I accompany Trish on one of her trash pickup activities along the roadway.  What IS it about those 5 Hour Energy shots that must make people immediately toss them out of the car window when they drink them?  And don’t get me started on why people think cigarette butts are biodegradable.  But I digress.

Sometimes I do start stitching together thoughts that end up in an essay and lately I’ve been thinking a lot about “balance”.  The visual I chose to use with this essay is not a set of scales, like you often see with a blinded Justice (anyone else have an issue with Justice being blinded, like someone is trying to pull something over on her?).  The scales imply that balance is a static activity.  You load two opposing “things” on the different pans and wait for the scales to steady.  Then you can see which one is obviously “better”.  That works well if you are measuring something physical like a weight.  It’s not a very helpful analogy when you are weighing actions and consequences.  I’ve written about choices and consequences before.  Today I want to talk about how to balance competing priorities/needs/wants.  And to do that, I need to use the visual of a pendulum.

Achieving balance, in my mind, does not result in a static state.  We’d love it to be static.  “I am finally in balance!” you think on a good day.  Until it’s not a good day anymore.  Balance is a dynamic process, constantly swinging through that elusive balance point but never staying there.  My goal is to try to keep the amplitude of the swings as low as possible.  I like things to be steady.  I do have a tendency to motion sickness after all.  Have you noticed that there are others that seem to like to swing that pendulum as far to the extremes as possible?  They love those swings.  Well, bless their hearts.  (Anyone from the South knows what I mean by that.)

“Balance” in this context can take many forms.  There is balance in your diet; in your emotions; in your relationships; in your problem solving process.  The difficulty in achieving a sense of balance is accepting, as Brene Brown says, that you can carry two competing truths in your mind and not have to choose between them.  Let me give you an example.  We have previously established that Trish has no spatial skills when it comes to loading dishes in a dishwasher.  I will open a nearly empty dishwasher to find one small bowl—ONE bowl—sitting smack in the middle of the bottom rack.  Usually lying diagonally across a couple of rows of spokes.  This trait, to me, is not a positive one.  I do not like it.  But do I throw up my arms, scream something about closest-packed-configurations and go running out the door?  No.  Well, not yet.  And that’s because she has a few other characteristics that I find quite charming and lovable and, on balance, I can tolerate (and rearrange) the dishwasher.  That’s an easy one to balance.  The negative issue is of much less importance to me than the positive issues so I can reconcile the dishwasher thing.

More tricky can be balancing competing priorities of different constituencies, like family members or work colleagues.  I remember a scene from The Wonder Years, with the narrator talking about his parents and how they negotiated differing preferences.  The example was tile for the kitchen floor.  He didn’t like her choice; she didn’t like his; so, they compromised on one neither of them particularly liked.  Or there is the example of balancing spending needs in a business against profitability.  You need both, but not one to the exclusion of the other.  Or, as noted above, balancing your diet.  If you swing the pendulum too far to the “good but tasteless” side, you risk swinging the other way too far to “bad but delicious.”  Trust me.  I have done this experiment.  And so have you, I would guess.

Here’s one that’s a bit tougher and that we are all struggling with right now.  We’ve got this crazy virus circulating that we don’t know a lot about yet.  We know that it seems to be highly contagious and that people can spread the virus without showing symptoms.  We know that a majority of people who pick up this virus will show no or mild sickness but that a small percentage have a horrid reaction, end up in the hospital, may be on a ventilator for weeks, and many die.  Our first very valid reaction as we were learning about the virus was “Ack!  Everyone stay HOME!”  In parts of the country, hospitals were becoming overwhelmed and we had no treatment, no vaccine, no way to stop this thing besides staying away from each other.  But then, people started suffering in other existential ways:  millions have lost their jobs, we have lost trillions in economic value, and we’re facing an economic recession that may take a long, long time to recover.  We’ve got to get people back to work and start shopping again!  (Remember, our economy is 70% consumer spending.)  How do we balance those two very valid, very serious conditions that are in opposition?

This, people, is when we can hold two competing truths in our minds.  We can respect the need to minimize spread of this disease as well as the need to open our economy.  What I worry about are the pendulum swingers—the ones who see “opening” as meaning back to the pre-virus norm of packed beaches, restaurants, theaters, ball parks with no restraints.  I also worry about the ones who say we must stay in total lockdown until there are no more cases of this virus anywhere.  Neither are constructive.  It is not an affront on your liberty to wear a damn facemask when you go out.  Nor is it an attack on the Second Amendment to limit seating in a restaurant.  Nor are we all going to die if golf courses open up or I go get my hair cut (as long as we take reasonable precautions like said facemasks and minimizing contact).  We just need to be smart about how we “reopen”.  Nudge the pendulum toward the balance point and be ready to nudge it back the other way if needed.  Recognize you will not get everything you want but neither will others who are pushing the pendulum in the other direction.  And above all, pray that we can keep our hospitals from being overwhelmed so that if you or someone you love is in the unfortunate small percentage that need them, our healthcare workers will be there and ready.

Our goal is to constantly strive for balance, recognizing that you will often approach balance and even be “in” balance for brief moments, but more often you will be looking for data to help you ease toward it.  It’s about holding those two opposing truths in your mind and knowing that it is ok to, say, like a particular political candidate enough to vote for them but not agree with everything they say or have done.  Similarly, you can find something you like and respect about someone you don’t particular enjoy working or spending much time with.  It’s not hypocritical.  It’s pragmatic and balanced.  And you can love someone dearly and still curse softly at how the dishwasher is loaded.

Observations from Self Isolation

I’ve been trying to motivate myself to write for the last two weeks.  Writing, normally, is therapy for me so I’ve been surprised at the difficulty.  Lord knows I could use some therapy these days!  I’m starting this essay on Friday, knowing my posting deadline is Sunday.  Nothing like a self-imposed deadline to get you started!  I just haven’t felt like writing about leadership topics.  Rather, it is hard to make these topics more humorous and based on the response to my last two essays y’all want to laugh, not think.  Wait.  That didn’t come out right.  My clearly intelligent and discriminating readership would prefer to laugh while they think.  So, instead of delving into a single topic, today I am going to share with you a number of observations I have made about myself and the world over the last few weeks and how I might in the future weave some of these into essays of their own.

Maybe I shouldn’t have gone off of Prozac  Let’s start strong!  Like many a Woman of a Certain Age, I had some difficult times with inhuman hormonal swings several years ago and at the insistence of my doctor (“Don’t be afraid of chemistry, Sherri.”) went on Prozac.  I stopped a couple of years ago when various internal chemicals and my life evened out.  My coping energy has generally been fairly strong as of late.  These past few weeks, however, anxiety has come roaring back.  As usual, it has expressed itself by keeping me from sleeping which, in turn, messes with other rather important bodily functions leaving me tired, cranky, lazy, and bloated.  This state is different from my usual tired, cranky, lazy and bloated condition by the addition of feeling both helpless and angry.  I am a joy to be around.  Why am I feeling helpless and angry?  Read on.

Hair Salons Should be Essential Businesses  It is the little things.  I remember when I lost power for four days after Super Storm Sandy.  Electricity is something you really take for granted until you don’t have it.  Those were four miserable days.  Thank goodness for a fireplace and two very warm cats.  When the power came back on, I channeled Scarlet O’Hara yelling, “With Gd as my witness!  I will never take Electricity for granted again!”  I am replaying that emotion now with respect to my hair salon.  It has been 43,200 minutes since I’ve been to the salon.  Not that I’m counting.  It is not, as you might guess, about hair color.  I am one of those lucky few (thanks, Mom and Dad) who is graying late and in a nice salt-and-pepper way, so I don’t color.  No, it’s the Waxing Room of Torture that I miss.  I have taken to plucking hairs that should never have to be removed one at a time.  The concept makes Trish literally gag, so I can’t even tell her about it.  I’m sure she’s gagging editing this paragraph.  I have written to the CIA, explaining in detail how they can now do away with water boarding and just use strategic plucking.  Although I’m guessing this is prohibited by the Geneva Convention, too.

I Have a Righteous Streak a Mile Long  “Really?” says everyone who’s ever known me, rolling their eyes.  “I’ve never noticed.”  OK, but I come by it honestly and I’m clearly not alone.  We are all self-isolating.  And we are doing it for a rather altruistic reason:  in most cases, it’s not so much about us getting COVID-19 ourselves, but making sure that we break the chain of contagion thus keeping our health care system from totally crashing.  Yes, most people have very manageable symptoms.  But this virus is contagious enough and enough people are asymptomatic long enough that without us all staying home, this thing would pass through the country/world like wild fire.  Even the relatively small percentage of people that have a serious time with this illness would be enough people to totally overwhelm hospitals.  Think about that: we are staying home so that people we don’t know won’t die.  That is incredibly selfless and community minded.  And American culture is diametrically opposed to those two characteristics.  But we DO believe in fairness!  That happens to express itself as “If I am going to stay home 99% of the time and wear an uncomfortable face mask when I do go out, then I am going to judge like hell the people that DON’T do that!”  This is partly why lines at gun stores have been a mile long.  This and the fact that Pennsylvania inexplicably closed the liquor stores. If there ever was an essential business!  Anarchy is just one bad day away.  Thank goodness the sun is out today.  “The Individual vs. the Community” will undoubtedly become an essay in the future.

The Average Person Does Not Understand the Scientific Process  I have previously indicated that I would like to write a series of essays entitled “Everything I Ever Needed to Know, I Learned in Freshman Chemistry” and an explanation of the Scientific Process will be a key part of that.  Let me give an example: Having a gut instinct about the efficacy of a drug combination to fight COVID 19, based on a few anecdotal cases, does not replace a well-designed study.  Why not just try it?  What do you have to lose?  Remember thalidomide?  That’s a drug that was found, anecdotally, to reduce nausea in pregnant women.  It was then prescribed widely for this problem, until they realized that a high percentage of babies born to women taking this drug had horrific birth defects.  This is also why I can’t stand “sound bite” journalism.  It is very easy to find isolated examples to prove whatever point you want to make.  A well-designed study that proves cause and effect is critical. And don’t get me started on people who read one article, written for non-scientists, and are now self-proclaimed scientific experts.  Stay in your lane.

Speaking of Correlation vs. Causation  Did you know that there is a strong correlation between number of shark attacks and people eating ice cream?  Well, clearly then, people should stop eating ice cream if we want to prevent shark attacks! (Actually, they are both correlated with warm weather and people taking a swim in the ocean.)  Check out this one:

Clearly Scripps needs to be very careful of the words they choose in the final round!  Just because two events or actions are correlated doesn’t mean that one caused the other.  Just because a couple of people took a particular drug and recovered from COVID 19 doesn’t mean that the drug caused the recovery.  This relationship is oh so important in all aspects of our lives!  (Fans of Malcolm Gladwell’s writing already know this maxim.)  Expect this to show up again.  And remember, if something seems simple or obvious, it just means you don’t know enough about it.  See also: self-proclaimed scientific experts, above.

The Center is Relative  There is so much more about basic scientific principles applied to life that I want to explore.  The Law of Unintended Consequences.  The Importance of Significant Digits.  The Dose Makes the Poison.  But I will touch on just one more here:  The Theory of Relativity.  While we are all trying hard, kind of, to not politicize this pandemic there sure seems to be a lot of complaining tied to political party.  What I find interesting is that almost everyone considers themselves Centrist in their thinking.  Most people can easily find others who are both to the right and left of their own position on any given topic.  As such, by definition, they are “centrist”.  (“Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right and here I am: stuck in the middle with you.” Bragging rights to the first person who identifies those lyrics!)  And, your own ideas seem so eminently reasonable to you that they MUST be centrist and anyone who disagrees is either an idiot or a maniac. (Who gets THAT reference?  Clue: comic from, um, the 80’s?)  Just chill, people.  The center moves around a lot.  It is relative to where the majority is at any given time in history.  No one ideology has all the right answers.  And in complicated situations like what we are wrestling with today, there IS no one right answer.  There are just different pathways with different consequences.  We are all right and we are all wrong.  “Balance” is another topic I’m sure I will dive into.  We don’t need to open up the whole country at once; nor do we need to stay in 100% quarantine until 2025.

Which brings me to my final thoughts.  Last night I had a Zoom happy hour with my college friends (the famous crew from Miami).  We were all talking about hitting a “pandemic wall”.  We’re tired of the constant stress of the unknown and uncertainty.  I will leave you with a thought from my friend, Jackie, who said “learn to relax into it.”  So perfect!  Control what you can control.  Breathe and relax into the rest.  And wear a damn face mask when you go out!

Be safe out there.

Transitioning to Self Isolation

[Author’s Disclaimer:  Any comments by my editor are hers and hers alone, unedited by me. 😉 ]

When I first began blogging, I shared my thinking around the five steps involved in transitioning to retirement.  You can check out that critically acclaimed three part series here, here and here.  Ever the scientist, I have continued my work in this area.  This research, which involved overhearing at least one conversation and tirelessly scanning through Facebook, has found, amazingly, that those five steps apply equally well to transitioning to Self Isolation.  To do my part in being of service to others during these difficult times, I share below these five steps to ease your mental strain as we move into April 2020—sure to be a month in which we will need some humor.

As with the Five Steps of Transitioning to Retirement, you are required to move, in order, through each of the Five Steps to Accepting Self Isolation.  Residence time in each stage will be different depending upon your particular situation and you might recycle here and there as stressors change, but you WILL go through each of these stages in turn. 

Step One: Detox  Detox in Self Isolation is not wholly different from detox in retirement in that you are for the most part separating yourself from your work environment.  The physical difference causes all but your limbic system to shut down and I’m sure that if I had access to a functional MRI, knew how to use it and interpret the scans, and was able to get within six feet of a willing volunteer, I could prove that.  Suffice it to say that I’ve seen enough evidence to support this theory:  not waking up until 8:00 or later; extensive savoring of morning coffee; pajama bottoms and slippers never coming off (please rotate pairs and do some laundry); and, high activation barriers to really engaging in work.  Depending on your work situation, number and age of children, and access to various streaming services, you will spend different amounts of time in this stage.  As with retirement, though, allow yourself to sit and drool a little while.  It’s good for you.

Step Two: Endless Vacation  During Self Isolation, this stage takes the form of Home Work Projects.  We are all, apparently, incredibly industrious elves just waiting for the opportunity (meaning “time”) to tackle a range of organizational and home improvement projects.  It has not been desire that has stopped us, no!  We have just been pulled away from home too much.  But, now!  Now we can take our commute time, shopping time, socializing time, exercising time and focus it all on the hall closet!  How’s that working out for you?  Yeah, unlike during the transition to retirement, this stage is often really short.  It doesn’t take long to figure out that time was indeed NOT the barrier to cleaning out that closet. And that’s okay. To continue to avoid these tasks, move on quickly to Step Three.

Step Three: What Day Is It?  This is the toughest stage, both in transitioning to retirement and to Self Isolation.  Even though I’ve been retired for coming on four years now (wow!), I had built enough structure into my days to at least remember to put the trash cans out on the right night.  But now, all the days seem to run together.  No matter the day, there are press conferences on TV on a continuous stream.  My workouts are down in the basement and frighteningly similar (meaning “not very taxing”), which is why I prefer the YMCA.  I had gotten in the habit of putting on real clothes every day; now I’m back into continuous sweat pants.  Thank goodness for the discipline of the Weight Watchers eating plan or I’d be in serious trouble.

The third stage, when you are feeling lost, is the one I believe most of us are struggling through right now.  It’s hard to concentrate even though there is a lack of quality distractions.  Underneath it all is the nagging uncertainty of how long this will last and how bad this pandemic will get.  Everything starts to get on your nerves and, yes, the mail truck is a daily bright spot.  I’m interested to see how history treats this time period.  In the meantime, know you are not alone in your frustrations and struggles. 

Remember, though, the reason we are doing this: it’s about trying to lower the load on our healthcare system by reducing the spread of this crazy contagious virus.  We are actually doing something for the good of the community ahead of what we sometimes feel would be better for ourselves.  Pat yourself on the back for that!  Go ahead and have some ice cream.  Or a drink.  Or an ice cream drink.  Or two.

Step Four: Catharsis  I’ve struggled over whether or not “catharsis” is the right word to use for this stage.  The definition of “catharsis” is “elimination of a complex by bringing it to consciousness and affording it expression”.  Maybe something around a “Eureka” moment is more what I was after.  But as I look at that definition, I think I had it right all along.  Once we bring the nagging discomfort to the surface and put some verbiage to it, we can move on to that Eureka moment.  That’s when you find the right pattern to your daily life under Self Isolation.  There’s a little work, a little play, a little teeny tiny bit of productive activity, a little learning, a little fun.  You get a beat to it all.

Step Five:  A New Normal  Normal, but temporary nonetheless.  Here are some of my suggestions for getting to this stage.  First, make sure you get a good belly laugh each day.  If you pee a little bit, all the better.  Second, go outside and breathe a while.  Take a walk around the neighborhood.  Hey, you have a great excuse to cross the street and avoid the neighbors you don’t want to see.  “Social distancing,” you yell as you smile and wave from a distance.  Enjoy it while you can.  Finally, set little daily goals.  Begin, please, with “bathe”.  Work up to that hall closet.  You might just find a few new habits that you’ll want to keep once we’re through this whole thing.

[Editor’s Note:  Okay, we’ve already established that Sherri is the “smart” one in this couple, uh, and also the “nice” one.  But here, folks, is the real poop on how to survive “Social Isolation”.

Step One:  Detox  Contrary to the title, you should be imbibing in your “drug” of choice to get through this—chocolate, fried foods, wine.  Or chocolate covered French fries dipped in merlot.  Whatever.  JUST DO IT (thanks, Nike…)

Step Two: Endless Vacation  I don’t know how you feel, but I’ve had more fun in some Third World countries I’ve visited than I have in this last month!  Hell, even my African dysentery incident seems like a picnic to March 2020.  But I digress….  My home improvement projects have included painting every room in the house.  Not sure any of them needed it, but the disarray drives Sherri into a different room—and we both pass out by 7:00 pm from the fumes.  Try it.

Step Three:  What Day Is It?  Only 1 day counts—Sunday, for CBS Sunday Morning and an afternoon of Sunday paper reading/puzzles.  The New York Times Crossword has kept our marriage together. Not because we do it together, but rather because this is the only way I feel adequate and convince myself I am not intellectually stultifying Sherri (yes, getting back into therapy is on my post-COVID list).

Step Four:  Catharsis  This is when the wine and paint buzz hits.

Step Five:  New Normal  Don’t know WTF this will look like but I’m sure glad I have a life partner that can laugh (and wet her pants) with me!

Stay Safe Everyone!  Trish, the dumber, meaner Editor]

When an Introvert is Told to Stay Home

The other night, as Trish and I were watching the evening news, our State’s Governor was shown imploring people to stay home as much as possible to reduce the spread of the coronavirus.  I know that staying home is a challenge for a lot of people, especially if you have young kids who should be in school or work at a job that is not amenable to working from home.  However, at this pronouncement, Trish and I looked at each other and suppressed (sort of) wry smiles.  Telling two introverts to stay home is not exactly a hardship.  Herewith, a little lighter side of the impact of the coronavirus.  We could all use a bit of a laugh right now.

On Sharing the Same Space  Our house is not huge but it’s big enough.  Big enough for us to be in totally different parts of the house and not see each other all day.  Except we don’t do that.  For some reason, the four of us (me, Trish, the two cats) always seem to end up in the same 10 square feet and we’re mostly ok with that.  It’s like the Anti-Second Law of Thermodynamics.  Take this morning, for instance.  Since we all ended up in the upstairs bathroom brushing our teeth together (the cats weren’t brushing; just assisting), we all decided to go into the basement and get in a workout.  The Beloved YMCA is closed, so we had to figure out our own thing.  Trish was on her recumbent bike.  I was on the treadmill.  Beau was on the yoga mat.  Bridget was losing her favorite Blue Ball behind some boxes.  Then Trish was lifting some weights, I was doing abs on the yoga mat, Beau was still on the yoga mat, Bridget was whining and furiously looking for her Blue Ball.  Did we need to be in that small space together?  No.  Did we get in each other’s way? Yes.  Were we ok with that?  Yes.  Did I find Bridget’s Blue Ball? Yes.  Did she lose it again in 2 minutes? Yes.

On Going to the Grocery Store  About the only outing we seem to be taking is to get fresh food.  I, fortunately, had gone to Costco and bought toilet paper because we actually needed it the week before the COVID hit the fan, so our focus is actually food.  We sometimes go together but I mostly do the grocery shopping because I enjoy it.  We have been on Weight Watchers, with gratifying success, since the start of the year so we shop mostly for produce, beans and spices.  I went yesterday for the weeks’ needs.   We were traumatized shopping in the “corona frenzy” last Friday morning, so I was a bit anxious.  The lot was not crowded, nor was the store, as we all sized each other up from a safe distance.  While there were signs of an on-going riot in the paper goods and spaghetti sauce aisles, the produce section continued to be a fine place to practice Social Distancing.  I strolled to the lettuce area, dismayed to see nearly empty racks of bagged greens.  Then I heard a voice around the corner say, “I got all the bags of spinach.”  I followed the voice to see a woman and her teenaged son reviewing their prize of about a half dozen bags of spinach.  I asked, “Did you take ALL the spinach?  Could I have just one bag?”  She didn’t want to give me one, I could tell, but she also couldn’t say no.  I thanked her and rolled off to get peppers and zucchini.  I didn’t even want spinach.  It was just the principle.  I saw her later when I was looking for ricotta and she was grabbing the last package of sliced cheddar.  I looked at her.  She asked if I wanted the bag of cheese.  I said no, but thank you.  Maybe I should have taken it.

On Going Stir Crazy  While I have established that we are both (all four of us?) Introverts Who are Happy to Stay Home, when you are somewhat REQUIRED to stay home it’s a bit different.  The one regular activity that we miss like crazy is our almost daily treks to the local YMCA.  It’s not just the exercise, although Trish misses her water aerobics as much as I miss my spin classes.  It’s the community of friends we miss, as well as the change of scenery.  After a morning at the Y, spending the afternoon reading and writing was a luscious indulgence.  Burn a little incense, make a cup of tea and I was in heaven.  Now, after an hour of reading (if that), I get nudgy.  To deal, we are taking walks around the neighborhood (with appropriate Social Distancing when we come across other people).  We had a neighborhood conversation yesterday with no one leaving the end of their driveways, and just yelling a bit to check in with each other.  Stuff is getting organized, although it still requires a little push for me to act.  But there is ONE thing that gets us excited every day.  The sound of the mail truck is like hearing the intoxicating melody of an ice cream truck.  “The MAIL!” one of us will exclaim, and we wait at the window until the truck is a few doors past ours to not look too anxious.  I create a distraction by “accidentally” kicking one of the cat bowls so Trish will clean it up (she’s obsessive about that) and I run outside.  It’s not like anything good ever comes in the mail anymore; nor are we forbidden to go outside and breath fresh air.  It’s just….good lord, I don’t even know WHAT it is!  But Sunday’s are hell.

On Getting on each Other’s Nerves  Lest you think our lives as near shut ins are all rainbows and unicorns, there are times when I have to go north and she needs to go south.  Little things start to rub.  I, for instance, eat too quickly and then get the hiccups.  I also talk back to the TV, particularly Pharma commercials and (increasingly) press conferences.  Trish has still not grasped the concept of recycling and I’m constantly fishing things out of the garbage to rinse and put in the bin.  Additionally, the logic this woman uses (or doesn’t) when it comes to loading a dishwasher is beyond me.  Who puts a small bowl in the middle of the empty bottom rack?  I also find it annoying that she so quickly came up with a list of things I do that annoy her.  Seriously, though, we do get on each other’s nerves at times which is not unexpected in a situation with the constant underlying stress of uncertainty.  In fact, I recently read that as the quarantine restrictions are being lifted in China that divorce filings are sky rocketing!  Yes, this is a time when we must all give each other a bit of grace!

What an amazing time this is for us all!  I cannot think of another instance when the entire world was dealing with the same crisis all at the same time.  This is different from being aware of a crisis.  The world responds when there is a hurricane somewhere, or we send all kinds of thoughts and prayers when there is some tragedy.  But those crises are all localized, even if the awareness is global.  This time, though, the crisis itself is global and we are connected enough to see it all unfold in real time.  We are seeing more and more instances of how this crisis is bringing out our collective humanity, which is heartening.  I, for one, have been vociferously thanking everyone working at the grocery stores when I go to shop.  Facebook is filled with things like free concerts from musicians, virtual art shows, famous actors reading books to kids, and all kinds of nice stuff—instead of all that nasty crap that had filled my News Feed so much that I was spending virtually no time on the app.  Finally, Facebook is doing again what it says it was built for—bringing people together.  My Mom’s Rabbi said in his video sermon this week that maybe this virus can be seen as the Universe sending us all a “timeout”.  Let’s use it for that.  We don’t need all the chaos and messed up priorities.  We need the humanity.  Please remember that when the shelter-in-place orders are lifted.  Trish and I put in our wedding vows that we would make sure we gave each other a good belly laugh every day.  It’s more important now than ever.

What History Can and Cannot Teach Us

As I begin this essay, on 14 March 2020, we are in the midst of the unfolding COVID-19 pandemic.  Over the last few weeks, we’ve seen the stock market dive 30% over a two-fold uncertainty—uncertainty over the health impact of the virus and its global economic impact.  Every day we’ve been treated to numerous press conferences from all levels of government as well as a string of breathless announcements from the press about shut downs, shut ins and near constant significant news updates.  I live in what has quickly become the “hot spot” of cases in Pennsylvania, resulting in a near total shut down of business and civic activities, as well as run on toilet paper that I just don’t understand. 

As we have watched sections of China, then South Korea, then Iran, then Italy, then Spain spike in cases and undertake draconian measures to slow the spread of the virus, I have gotten increasingly queasy about the probability that we, the US, are next.  As testing becomes more available, the number of known cases of infection is going to shoot up and panic will only increase.  Being a bit of a history buff, I am drawn to discussions of what History can teach us.  As expected, there has been no shortage of parallels drawn with past events.  There’s the Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918; more recent “novel” virus outbreaks likes SARS, MERS, Swine Flu, Ebola; and, of course, comparisons to how previous administrations have handled a range of crises.

One must choose ones sources carefully, however, when using history to inform our present thinking.  A friend of mine recently turned me onto the daily blog of Heather Cox Richardson, a political historian and professor of history at Boston College.   I knew I’d like her when I read the “About” page on her blog, linked to above, in which she uses one of my favorite quotes: “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme.”  This quote, attributed to Mark Twain, reminds us that we can learn from history—but we must be careful to remember that circumstances never completely replicate themselves. You must put the lessons of history in critical context with today’s situation.  Prof. Richardson brings in many lessons from the past in her daily review of events, which can be comforting or frightening depending on the situation.  Her writing has also driven me to think about something else:  the difficulty of putting today’s events into any confident context while events are still unfolding.

This situation allows me to use an excerpt I’ve been saving from Philip Roth’s The Plot Against America.  From the moment I read this paragraph, and underlined it, I knew there would be an essay in which I could use it!  It is one of those passages that you read and think, “Wow, that is so true!  But I’ve never thought about it that way before!”  Herewith, that selection:

“Turned wrong way round, the relentless unforeseen was what we schoolchildren studied as “History,” harmless history, where everything unexpected in its own time is chronicled on the page as inevitable.  The terror of the unforeseen is what the science of history hides, turning disaster into an epic.”

I have now lived long enough to see how crazy current events are treated by historical retrospection.  I remember the chaos of the morning of 9/11/2001.  We did not know or understand from one minute to the next what was happening!  We just stood in front of the TV at work, numbly watching the horrific scene, reeling as information came pouring in over time.  Over the succeeding weeks, months and years, a lot came to light about what led up to that horrible day as well as decisions that were made afterwards.  Whenever there is temptation to yell, “How could they NOT have seen that?!” or “How could they have made THAT decision?!” I try to remember the chaos, confusion and utter helplessness of that day and time.  It’s easy to look backward and calmly put the pieces together.  When you are going through it, though, nothing is clear.

Part of what makes us nuts right now is constant “arm chair quarterbacking” about whether or not this crisis is being handled appropriately—or even whether or not it is a crisis at all.  I have another “crisis memory”—the years leading up to 2000, forever referred to as Y2K.  Most of my readers will remember this time, but a few may be too young.  The concern was that the date in most computer code in everything from banking to control of the electrical grid was expressed with two digits for the year.  What would happen to time- and date-dependent tasks when the year rolled from 99 to 00?  Visions of a digital Armageddon circulated for a few years as companies pumped millions of dollars into analyzing and updating code to use a four digit year within dates.  Come January 1, 2000, there were some small blips but no major crises.  IMMEDIATELY there were pundits saying that this “crisis” was way overblown and millions of dollars were wasted.  However, maybe crisis was averted because we invested so much time and money. 

We can’t run the appropriate control experiment to know for sure.  Just like we can’t go back and NOT implement Roosevelt’s New Deal, or NOT implement the plans the Obama administration executed in response to the Great Recession. We cannot say for sure that a different course of action would have had a better or worse result.  Not that that stops pundits from trying.  And it’s very easy to cherry pick historical information to support your thesis, extrapolating from kernels of truth to assumptions that are risky at best and outright wrong at worst.

So what do we do during a time of uncertainty such as we find ourselves in today?  Well, here is what I’d like to see from others and what I try to hold to myself.  First, always try to remember at any given point in time what you know, what you don’t know, and if possible what you don’t know you don’t know.  And remember that there is a time vector to information—what you know changes constantly, including false information that pops up only to be corrected later.  Because of this ever-changing information environment, stay humble and be transparent.  State what you know and what you don’t.  Explain what information you have used to arrive at your conclusions and actions.  You can express competence (if you are in a visible role) without saying you have everything under control.  And for goodness sakes, don’t promise what you can’t deliver.

Second, remember that actions and opinions can and will change as more information becomes available.  Stay open to changing your position based on new data and own that change.  It is not a failing to change your position based on new information.  It is also not unreasonable to prepare for the worst while hoping for the best.  It IS unreasonable to lose sight of facts and go overboard about protecting yourself to the detriment of others.  If you need to stockpile 96 rolls of toilet paper for a possible 2-4 week quarantine, I think you have other issues.

Third, give yourself and others some grace.  We all have different situations, different risk tolerances and different experiences that may cause us to make different decisions.  But remember, also, how actions will affect others.  If schools are shut down, remember that there are kids who depend on school lunches and breakfasts.  If small businesses close, remember that many hourly employees will end up going without a paycheck—and these are often the people who can least afford to miss one.  Think actions through and mitigate impact.  If your tolerance for risk is high, remember those around you who may be immunocompromised or have to tend to someone who is in a high risk group.  Don’t belittle someone else’s fear; don’t sneer at someone else’s unconcern.

When this is all said and done and history has had its say, it is certain that some decisions will have been wrong and some will have been right.  Some of them may have just been dumb luck considering how little was known at the time.  Don’t heap blame or praise on the decisions themselves.  Focus on the decision process itself: how was information gathered and how were decisions made?  How quickly did response change based on new knowledge?  How well was information communicated?  We can learn a lot more from that than on our opinions about whether or not the decisions were “good”.

Take a deep breath.  Focus on the bigger picture.  And be safe out there!

The Ties That Bind

I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships lately.  What spurred me to write this essay is a particular type of relationship.  You know those people.  You smile when you think about them.  You can go months or years without seeing or talking, yet as soon as you are together again you pick up right where you left off; people you love unconditionally, yet you will not let them get away with any bullshit.

But first, a little of my general musing about relationships.  I’m talking all kinds of relationships:  family, friends, co-workers, acquaintances.  How people interact with each other has always fascinated me—remember, I’m an amateur social scientist.  In the workplace, it was all about influence: how can I convince someone to do what I would like them to do, be that a customer buying what my company is selling or another employee “buying” what I am trying to “sell” them about a project or other initiative.  In my personal life, it has often been around the question of how “out” do I really need to be: does the cashier at the grocery store really need to know that Trish is my wife?  Do I care that she or he may assume something totally different about who I am?  With family and friends, I am often thinking about communication.  I’ve written before about my Theory of the Half Life of Effective Communication and On Resolving Conflict.

One of the companies that I worked for was a highly distributed, global organization, with 30,000+ employees around the globe but rarely more than 200 in the same location (most had staffs of less than 50). The development of effective relationships and communication norms was critical for these micro universes.  I wrote a “white paper” about this topic for a corporate Executive Leadership Program.  It went over like a lead balloon, but I still like the premise.  I asked people to think about relationships (and this holds for the work environment as well as your personal life) as a series of concentric circles—hence the visual that I posted with this essay. 

In your personal life, that innermost circle is a very few people.  Your spouse, children, maybe siblings, maybe parents and a few cousins.  If you are lucky like me, your BFF is in that circle. These are the people that are just IN your life daily and always at the front of your mind.  You know what they are doing and they know what you are doing—almost everything.

In that second circle, you have your posse.  The friends (and family members) that you generally interact with regularly.  Successive circles outward include acquaintances that you run into every now and then.  You usually remember their names and faces.  Farther out are those transactional relationships—cashiers, service people, the person you sit next to on a transnational flight.  How you communicate with people in those circle differs, as does the work you must put into developing communication norms.

What I want to talk about, though, is a special category in that second circle: those people who aren’t necessarily in your everyday life, but with whom you have a deep bond.  This is a bond that time and life changes don’t affect; a bond that may form under a particular circumstance but that grows past that initial basis.  That’s the group of friends I just spent 4 days with in Miami Beach.

We are a circle of seven women who went through school together at Goucher College, Class of 1984.  The group is not all equal in “closeness”.  Some subgroupings have stayed deeply involved in each other’s lives continuously since graduation.  Some are very close with one or two people yet less close with others.  The closeness has ebbed and flowed over the years.  And some, like me, dropped out of sight for a good part of the 35 years since graduation while I was trying to figure out my own life.  That took about all the energy I had and, since I really hate talking on the phone, I fell out of touch with them.  (Social media, the perfect work around for phone-phobes like me, is a comparatively recent development.)  However, we ALL always came back for the 5 year interval reunions and we slid right back into the easy rapport which was always there.  At our 35 year reunion last year, we decided to make our own “off” year reunion—hello, South Beach in February! 

The hotel staff were increasingly amused as an ever-larger “Greeting Committee” would wander down to the lobby as each person arrived.  Rooming arrangements were negotiated prior through some sort of organic process.  I, one of the most introverted in the group, roomed with the most extroverted in the group.  It worked because we have a strong basis of mutual love and respect.  And that underpinned being able to say whatever we needed to say to each other.  I could say, “Stop talking.  I want to go to sleep.”  And she could say, “No, you’re not going to sleep yet.”  (I can hear the gasps of those who know me after reading that line!)

That balance extended to the wider group.  Imagine trying to coordinate four days of activities, meals, whatever with six of your friends.  What made it work was the comfort level of knowing that no one was going to dominate, that no one was going to be voiceless, that if anyone tried to push something that the consensus was uncomfortable with that they would be called on it (mostly).  These are the kind of people who won’t hesitate to tell you there is spinach in your teeth or a booger hanging out of your nose.  We split each check evenly seven ways.  If I got an expensive entree one meal, they knew it would balance out another time.  If some drank water and others had three drinks, we didn’t care.  We trusted each other and wanted each other to have a good time.  This sort of deep caring is rare. 

There were beach groups and pool groups; power walkers and strollers; chatter and companionable silence times.  The last night we were all together, we took over the pool bar for a rather loud game of Farkle.  It’s a dice game that involves equal parts strategy and accounting, and us “Goucher Women of Promise” quickly picked it up.  True to form, we kept helpfully adding up everyone’s score for them each roll.  It just worked and was so comfortable!  I think what I liked the most is that while we did a little reminiscing about our college years, 95% of the conversation was about our lives since then.  Our years at Goucher, struggling through classes together and learning to be adults, formed the basis of our friendship.  But it has been what we have navigated through in the decades since, and how we have shared it and grown with it that have formed the ties that bind us.  You know, I don’t even remember ever officially coming out to this group.  I don’t think I came out to anyone while we were in school.  But they all knew and that part of my life just fit into the rest of our relationship.  This is the ONLY group with which that process has happened!

We have continued the group text that started as we prepared to travel down to Miami, sharing more of our daily lives with the group.  We have penciled in a week for next year to get together again.  Shout out to Goucher, since 6 of the 7 of us have retired (or essentially so) by 57 years of age, so this is more do-able for us now.  Trish and I are talking about some travel that will include stops to see some of the group.  (This was a spouse-less trip, so Trish missed out.)  Realistically, I know life will get in the way a bit and this tight communication will fade.  But I also know that when we do get together again, hopefully next year, we’ll pick up right where we left off, Farkle and all.  I treasure these friendships and these women.  I hope you all are lucky enough to have friends like this in your lives.

You Don’t Know What You Don’t Know

In February of 2002, Donald Rumsfeld, then Secretary of Defense for George W. Bush, was taking questions at a Pentagon briefing.  In response to a question around the lack of direct evidence supporting the presence of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, Rumsfeld gave this answer (in part):

“Reports that say that something hasn’t happened are always interesting to me, because as we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns—the ones we don’t know we don’t know. And if one looks throughout the history of our country and other free countries, it is the latter category that tend to be the difficult ones.” (Wikipedia)

Rumsfeld was highly ridiculed for this “unknown unknowns” comment, mostly in popular media, but the man was on to something.  The graph that accompanies this article, of the Dunning Kruger effect, was sent to me by my beautiful and talented niece who is in graduate school for Plant Pathology (and who clearly takes after her Aunt Sherri).  She sent me this graph following a vigorous text discussion around the frustrations of grad school in the natural sciences.  You started in an undergrad environment, in which you are taught sound theory after sound theory and then go into a laboratory to conduct well-designed experiments that are supposed to be neatly completed in an afternoon or two.  Everything is fact.  Everything happens as expected (eventually).  And you began to think you knew how the world worked (as you annoyingly explained to your non-scientist friends).  Then you got to grad school.  And facts were not so cut and dried anymore.  There was nuance and boundary conditions.  Theorems like Newtonian physics explained everything until they didn’t and it was only by recognizing that there were facts that did not fit the existing theory that other theorems like Quantum Mechanics were developed.  And then there was “real” research, when you explored hypothesis after hypothesis that your experiments could not confirm.  It was a lonely dark tunnel of seemingly dead ends.  But you kept searching for truth.  And eventually, you found some.  What an incredibly important lesson to learn—because that is how life works.

I saw the Dunning Kruger effect play out over and over during my career as I coached young scientists.  The confidence they had!  OK, many times it was arrogance.  But they all learned, one by one, that they didn’t know as much as they thought they knew.  The best of them began with that sense of humility already; the most successful developed it.  Humility gives you not just a respect for what you can learn from others but a hunger to do it.  Enlightening someone to the fact that there is much they don’t know that they don’t know is one of the trickiest human interactions to navigate!  It wasn’t that hard when I was coaching those who were looking to me for insights already, but it was damn hard when I was trying to gently enlighten peers or superiors.  There is a very fine line you have to walk between embarrassing someone and convincing them.  And that line moves around as a function of their hard headedness and defensiveness.  I should know.  I’ve had to have my head knocked quite a few times!  Sometimes you just need to give someone grace because they have zero desire to be enlightened or you know they will come to it in their own time.  Sometimes you have to push forward because if you don’t there is the potential that bad things will happen sooner or later.  Regardless, don’t judge someone on their lack of knowledge.  Focus more on their willingness to learn.

I have mentioned before my love for non-fiction and how during my working years I kept collecting books, looking forward to retirement when I could finally READ to my heart’s content!  At first, it was wonderful!  I could read a little something, have a few questions, and then go down rabbit holes as much as I wanted to fill in my knowledge.  Very quickly, though, I learned that trying to be a Renaissance Woman in the 21st Century is a losing proposition.  The more I learned, the more I realized how much I didn’t know which made me want to learn more.  It doesn’t help that I get a daily email from Book Bub with discounted ebooks—I want every one of those histories and biographies!  Yes, it’s a virtuous cycle, but it’s also a little vicious.  I have gotten overwhelmed by how much I realize now that I didn’t know I didn’t know.

So, here is a look into my reading life.  Besides a shelf full of books like Biomimicry and The Sixth Extinction, a wish list with the likes of Sapiens and Value in Ethics and Economics, I am a faithful reader of The New Yorker and Longreads (which sponsors both longform journalistic efforts and curates a reading list).  I gravitate to longform journalism because there is the effort to go more deeply into a subject, turning over rocks and going past the quick assumptions about a subject.  Here is a sample of what I ingested just over the last week:  Returning Britain’s agricultural processes back towards traditional farming with a detailed look at the knock on effects of different farming techniques on the natural balance; the growing trend of participative Underground Railroad Reenactments and their impact on people of all socio-economic backgrounds; a profile of author Yuval Noah Harari (which is why Sapiens is on my wish list); whether or not Jeanne Calment really was the oldest living person at 122 or a fraud, with a deeper dive into how these investigations look from the perspective of different stakeholders; a comparison of the 1930’s concerns about democracy’s survival to those of today, reminding us that when we talk about “worst I’ve ever seen” it’s still only a “time drop” in the bucket of history; diamond mining in Botswana which gave a fascinating history of not just the industry and some key players but a nice primer on Big Diamonds of History; the search for a woman missing in British Columbia for seven years; and, how the CIA secretly sold encryption services to gullible governments around the world.  I learned something fascinating (and previously unknown to me) in each of these articles!  Each one has broadened my perspective on something I didn’t realize I needed some broadening on. And they all make me hungry for more.

I promise I AM heading somewhere with this line of discussion and it’s to emphasize this point:  you cannot know everything, but you can stay aware that there is always something more about a topic or a situation that you don’t know. Look for more perspective.  Remember that there is more to “truth” than your personal life experience.  As a scientist, I’ve been taught to almost never think in absolutes.  Situations are never as simple as they seem (or as simple as we want them to be) and it is critical to always want more information.  The Longreads articles, in particular, give me glimpses into lives so different from my own that I continually marvel at my good fortune for the life I was born into.  I’ve always had a lot to say on assumptions, and I’m guessing I always will.  I am humbled every day with new examples of incorrect assumptions I make about someone’s life or situation or background or knowledge.  There is so much I don’t know that I don’t know—only now, instead of scaring or frustrating me, it inspires and motivates me.  I hope it can be that way for you, too.

[Editor’s Note:  I read pulpy fiction novels and happily remain wedded to my simple beliefs. Sigh.  Trish]

On Resolving Conflict

First, I commend you for actually reading this essay.  I can hear the groans when you saw the title.  Conflict and conflict resolution are often among the least favorite topics of people everywhere.  Few people like conflict (save for those with a Character Disorder); fewer people still enjoy conflict resolution.  Yet the existence—nay, the preponderance—of unresolved conflict is, I’m convinced, at the root of a lot of emotional pain and suffering around us.  I would hazard to guess that unresolved conflict is at the root of a lot of physical pain, as well.  I mean this both of individuals who end up committing violence as well as those in leadership roles who start wars (that others fight and die in) because of their conflict with another leader.  (By the way, nothing I say below will apply to world leaders.  I have no clue what might resolve those conflicts.)

Before I begin my pontification, a little disclaimer.  There will be people reading this essay who have formally studied this topic and can speak with much more authority than I.  They, and you, may or may not agree with my views on this subject.  I am sharing with you my observations and strategies, which (sometimes) work for me.  Consider this food for thought in finding what works for you.

Conflict between humans is as old as, well, humans.  (I’m sure it also exists in the animal kingdom, but conflict resolution strategies of animals is outside the scope of this essay.  Well, mostly, since humans certainly can behave like small-prefrontal-cortex animals.)  Conflict also introduces itself to us at a very early age—“mine” is an existential statement of toddlers and usually kicks off conflict with anyone around.  For some reason, I have lately become very sensitive to conflict around me.  Maybe it’s because I am very lucky in that I don’t have a lot of conflict in my life these days.  I’m retired, so I don’t have conflict with work; I am in a wonderful relationship with someone who jumps on conflict as quickly as I do and communicates really well.  (I like to say that there are four of us in this relationship:  me, Trish and the “me and Trish” that are observing the “me and Trish” in the relationship and constantly talking about it.)  I also have weathered such intense conflict in my life that whatever comes my way these days feels tame by comparison.  So, I am very sensitive to the conflicts we, as a country, are embroiled in due to political differences (see previous discussions on yelling at the TV) as well as to conflict I see amongst family members and friends.  Hence the need to discuss.

Not all conflicts are alike.  There are conflicts with people in different types of relationships:  romantic, familial, friendship, workplace.  There are conflicts amongst equals and conflicts in which there is a significant power imbalance.  There are conflicts with those you know deeply and with acquaintances.  As such, there is no singular or perfect way to handle conflict.  But there is one thing all conflict has in common:  conflict that is not resolved never goes away.  It just gets buried, sometimes deeply and sometimes just under a thin veneer, and it will most likely rear its ugly head again.  Usually at a really inopportune time!  Until resolution, expect discomfort at some level with your conflictee.  The passing of time may lessen the awareness, but it is still there and it will color your relationship.  So, our first bold faced comment: Do not ignore conflict; ignoring it will not make it go away.

Are all conflicts worth wholehearted resolution? Frankly, no.  Since I will never be able to resolve the conflicts I have with a range of TV pundits, or with a stranger I overhear who makes a comment that really burns, sometime you have to just let it go.  “But, Sherri,” you remind me, “didn’t you just say that unresolved conflict never goes away?”  Why, yes, I did.  But if resolving those conflicts (which are really one sided disagreements, in all honesty) is not important to a relationship then the best response is indeed to let it go.  Simpler words were never written yet a more difficult act has rarely been undertaken.  I get so mad at myself when I lay awake at night, mulling over an interaction with someone I’ll never see again over something that I wanted to have handled differently, or thinking about things someone has said on TV or on some form of social tweety facegram.  Why do I let these people live rent free in my head?  This would be when we segue to a discussion of deep breathing and mindful meditation, but, again, subject for another time.  I want to discuss conflict that can and should be resolved.

Workplace resolution can be the trickiest.  “Conflict” when there is a real imbalance in power (boss/subordinate or similar) is not something I really consider true conflict.  That is a “suck it up and deal with it” situation for the person lower in power, even when a more powerful person is trying to admit to a wrong.  Power simply wins.  You have the freedom to leave the environment but the choices for many are really limited and really difficult, so most are stuck with bad feelings and ruminating over the situation at 3 am (see: “let it go”, above).  And this is why so many people can’t wait for their workday to end.  Owning what you really control in situations like this is hard, lonely and requires a lot of intestinal fortitude.  Complaining is easier.  I’ve done my share.  I’ve ultimately been happier when I’ve owned what I can truly control, but that didn’t happen until very late in my career when the consequences of owning it were more to my liking.  We’ve discussed choices and consequences before.

So let’s finally talk about conflict resolution amongst equals, with people you know well and care enough about to want to continue an on-going relationship.  Damn, it’s hard.  And it’s hard for two reasons:  if there is conflict there is hurt; and, to successfully resolve the conflict you will need to make yourself vulnerable to the person you exchanged hurt with.   I’ve read a lot of Brene Brown’s work and if you aren’t familiar with her, I highly encourage a look.  She writes a lot about vulnerability and how being vulnerable with others is one of the hardest things you will ever do, yet is so necessary to any type of healthy relationship (including with yourself).  So much anger out there is masking pain that people refuse to acknowledge out of fear of being vulnerable.  It takes courage.  And, by the way, you need a willing partner in the process.  It takes two to tango in many things in life; conflict resolution is one hell of a dance.  YOU may want to resolve a conflict.  You may even reach out and ask for a sit down to resolve the conflict.  But if the other person isn’t ready to open themselves to the discussion, it won’t work.  And, unfortunately, the hurt will just sit there.  Sigh.  We’ve all been there.

If both of you truly want to resolve the conflict, then you both need to be able to practice good listening skills.  Yes, listening is a SKILL.  And you need to talk face-to-face.  Do NOT try to do this remotely if at all possible.  Before you start the discussion, you need to remember this:  Your goal is not to defend yourself and remake your point.  Your goal (“you” plural) is to listen to where the other person is coming from.  Understand the situation that caused the conflict from the other person’s perspective.  None of us are mind readers.  You need to hear what is in each other’s heads.  Each person needs to put the emphasis on understanding the other—not on being understood themselves.  Don’t worry about making sure you are understood.  If you are doing this right, mutual understanding will be the outcome.  If you really do this (and I have found it much easier to facilitate these kinds of conversations than to engage in them myself), then a solution/resolution is often easy to find.  If not, you agree to disagree, but usually the pain and hurt are lessened because there is mutual respect.  Remember, you DO like/love this person!

Even just writing this essay has given me a stomach ache.  I see so much pain in the world!  It just doesn’t have to be this way!  We don’t have to be angry all the time or uncomfortable around each other.  Take a deep breath.  Ask for help if you need it.  But be brave enough and kind enough to crack open your defenses and get that conflict resolved.