Author Archives: Sherri

Lessons From the Galapagos

In early August, Trish and I took an amazing trip to the Galapagos Islands.  The time in the islands, along with the reading materials I consumed preparing for the trip, really got me to thinking.  I’m not in the habit of posing open ended questions without also proposing answers, but the answers here are too complex.  I want you to think about these questions and apply the answers you come up with to your own life.  Herewith, five observations and attendant questions from the Galapagos.  (Those who read American Scholar will be familiar with this format.)

1.  In the book, The Beak of the Finch, Jonathan Weiner takes us through the amazing journey of Rosemary and Peter Grant, two evolutionary biologists who spent decades on the island of Daphne Major studying and following the major species of ground and cactus finches.  Their work produced a number of astounding revelations and I highly encourage the read.  One tale that struck me was of the behavior of a small percentage of cactus finches.  These finches rely on cactus flowers and resultant seeds and fruit for food.  One year during an extreme drought, they discovered that a very high percentage of cactus flowers were missing their stigmas (a part of the flower critical for pollination and thus continuation of the cactus).  Observing the cactus finches, they found that the vast majority, around 90%, would wait for the cactus flower to open in the morning, then alight to feed on the pollen.  They would gingerly hold the stigma aside with one foot to allow them to reach into the flower to feed.  However, around 10% were hungry early (or just wanted to beat the rush) and would force the flower open early by peeling back a petal.  The stigma would typically poke them in the eye when they went for the pollen, so they would just snip the stigma off with their beak, then feed.  The result of course is that the flower would not pollinate, there would be no seed or fruit, and food availability for the whole group of cactus finches dropped off precipitously. In a normal year, there is plenty of food for all.  In drought years, this behavior leads to a quick drop off in cactus finch population because many starve.

Now, these are birds.  They know not what they do.  But the behavior of 10% of the birds basically destroyed the on-going food source for 100% of cactus finches in lean years.  There are no finch cops.  This behavior was not identified as destructive and stopped by the 90% of properly feeding finches.  So they all suffered.  We, however, have our large prefrontal cortex and, as sentient beings, are aware of the damage of such self-serving behavior and the need to protect the greater good.  Except that we don’t.  Or can’t.  From bank collapses to over-fishing to texting and driving, we are overrun with examples of humans who act in their own best interest regardless of the impact on the rest of the population.  These selfish actions lead to suffering of many and crisis or death for a few, but at some point we are going to have large scale loss of life.  How do we avoid the fate of the cactus finch and rein in behavior that is individually beneficial but bad for the flock?

2.  Elsewhere in the book, Weiner describes an experiment with E. Coli, a common bacteria found in our gut.  A sample of E. coli is nurtured in a petri dish, resulting in a pile of tens of millions of bacteria in under half a day.  When that colony is challenged with an antibiotic, almost all the cells die in minutes.  Almost all.  A few have a mutation that makes them resistant to the antibiotic.  Within a half day, those cells have multiplied and replaced the entire colony, but now with antibiotic resistance.  Further work has shown that, when stressed like this, bacteria will actually throw out plasmids (little bits of DNA—genetic material) to cells around them and those plasmids will be randomly taken up by other cells creating new mutations.  In other words, attacking the bacteria causes them to mutate faster and thus find that resistant mutation even more quickly.  Nature always find a way.

Throughout human history but particularly over the last few hundred years we have worked hard to try to control nature.  We have developed pesticides, herbicides, fungicides galore.  Insects, weeds and fungi always develop resistance.  We have engineered control of great rivers and oceans to build our cities and nature always finds a way to take them back.  She is very patient.  When are we going to stop the Sisyphean battle of trying to make nature do what WE want and instead work WITH nature to identify and utilize natural processes to get to our desired endpoints?

3.  There are always winners and losers in nature.  Species come and go.  During hard times, species fail. In the early 80’s, the Galapagos experienced a severe drought.  The finches died out by the thousands.  The Grants and their assistants watched it happen, marking off the death of each finch, banded for identification, in their notebooks. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for the Grants to watch all those finches die during the drought years and avoiding the temptation to intervene!  At this point, they knew a couple thousand finches on sight and had watched them grow for years.  But as researchers, they just could not intervene.  They needed to let nature run its course.  The finches are not gone.  Their numbers dwindled by 90%, but after the drought the species rebounded.  The species rebounded; however, individual “finch family” suffering was extreme.

As humans with compassion, we intervene with our species (and others) all the time.  We have developed amazing medical advances to save lives from all sorts of disasters that would normally kill.  We have developed social systems that look to identify and help those of lesser means (although one could also argue that social systems have also created the inequality that in turn lead to those lesser means).  We have intervened to help numerous species survive, especially when our own actions have endangered them.  However, we have also created a huge imbalance in nature by, well, creating so many humans.  Scientists don’t call this era the Anthropocene for nothing.  Technology has been a boon and curse in addressing the needs of our growing population, creating conveniences and processes that help our species grow and thrive but that have had significant unintended consequences on the balance of nature (plastics, fossil fuels, production farming).  Our sheer numbers are changing the planet in unsustainable ways.  If we let her, Nature will indeed restore balance, yet the thought of just letting millions of people die out is abhorrent to most of us. How do you balance the non-meritocracy of nature with human compassion while recognizing and minimizing the impact of unintended consequences?

4.  As this trip was predominantly Penn State alumni, a professor from PSU, Carter Hunt, joined us on the trip.  Carter is a cross-disciplinary researcher, currently at the Charles Darwin Research Center in the Galapagos on a Fulbright grant.  Carter is studying ecotourism.  Why study ecotourism?  Let’s back up for a second.  During the 16th and 17th centuries, the Galapagos Islands became a favored rest stop for pirates and sailors who brought goats, cows, rats, cats, and other non-native species to the islands; it was fished and whaled to an extreme degree because of its rich waters.  The ecological balance (and uniqueness) of the islands was almost destroyed.  After Ecuador annexed the archipelago and with the help of the international community, significant efforts were begun to return the Galapagos to the ecological conditions of Darwin’s time.  These efforts have been largely successful, but are under constant attack.  For example, while there is an enormous protected sea area around the archipelago, it is impossible to police effectively and marine poaching has been a real problem.  The Galapagos conservation teams brought the fishermen, local and not, to the table along with ecologists to discuss a solution.  “True blue” conservationists probably screamed at this tactic, but the reality is that you cannot achieve movement toward conservation without engaging all constituents, whether you like them or not.  Ignoring and excluding people who are doing things you do not like does not bring them into line and policing is not a 100% solution.  A balanced solution, which involves some controlled “marine extraction”, is the only one that will really work.  Similarly, ecotourism (like the trip we just took) creates an army of evangelists for the conservation cause, but is certainly not carbon neutral—not with a full day and a half of flying in large airplanes and the pampering we received aboard ship.  However, without this carbon expenditure, you don’t move the needle toward conservation support.  So, this question is really for Carter:  how do you find the right balance between the needs of those whose actions work against the planet’s apparent best interest along with conservation efforts aimed at restoring a needed balance such that everyone comes to the table and the whole moves toward conservation with time?

5.  Finally, as our trip wound down, our group of 23 travelers sat in the airport on San Cristobal awaiting our flight to Guayaquil and the long trip home.  The airport was crowded with other travelers, mostly Ecuadoreans moving between the islands and the mainland.  I looked around at these people I had just spent 10 intense days with.  All were strangers before the trip began, yet I looked at each one with a mixture of fondness and protectiveness that makes me smile as I type this essay.  How could I feel such a strong bond with these people?  We shared a very intense experience over a short time, yes, but I was amazed at the strength of the feeling for each one of them.  I put voice to this thought and my friend, Lynn, responded with “Why can’t we feel that way all the time with all those around us?”  I think that’s the most profound question in this essay.  Our shared humanity should be enough to bridge our differences.  It’s not hard to see that shared humanity in those around us if we just look.  Why not, indeed, Lynn.  Why not.

If Something Looks Simple, It Means I Don’t Know Enough About It.

From 1975 until his retirement in 1988, Senator William Proxmire from Wisconsin published a monthly winner of his Golden Fleece Award.  A fiscal hawk, Proxmire aimed to expose what he considered a wasteful use of taxpayer money.  The idea was quite popular and I remember many a newscaster gleefully exposing the latest in government waste.  Years later, in some discussion on scientific research, the Golden Fleece Awards came up again.  The grant money for fundamental R&D came overwhelmingly from government agencies like the DoE, DoD, NIH, etc and research grants were often the “winners” of Proxmire’s award.  We discussed one of these winners in depth: a research program to understand the sex lives of roaches.

I can see the eye brows raising.  The sex lives of roaches?  That seems a fairly ridiculous thing to study.  Except it wasn’t.  The researchers were investigating pheromones, those naturally produced agents that attract a member of a species to breed.  All jokes aside about actually wanting roaches to breed more, the identification of a cockroach sex attractant led to a fairly useful invention:  The Roach Motel.  Pre-Roach Motel, you would need to spray a poison around your kitchen or bathroom to hopefully banish the beasts (good luck with that).  The Roach Motel, however, attracted the roach to the “device”, which it entered and found the nicely contained poison.  (“Roaches check in….but they don’t check out.”)  For anyone with small children or pets, this was a huge safety improvement.  Now, pheromones are part of our common vernacular and are a critical part of the pest control industry.  Worth a little basic understanding of the sex lives of roaches.

There are several jumping off points from here on which to build an essay.  I could talk about how important basic research is and how scary it is that the US has severely reduced its support for fundamental knowledge building.  I could talk about how the practical application of knowledge is often a twisty turny unexpected road and most often cannot be managed through the use of Gantt charts, but patience in funding R&D is a topic for another time.  No, I want to go more general.  What the above example inspires in me today is this thought:  If something looks simple, or ridiculous, or stupid to me, my first thought is that I just don’t know enough about it.

A wonderful aspect of being retired is that I now have the time and the mental energy to read a whole lot more than I did while I was working.  I was a great skimmer, before.  And a great buyer of books and magazines that would pile up.  Now, not only do I have time to read these things; but being a lover of non-fiction, I have time to let my curiosity take me further into answering those follow on questions.  What I invariably find is that the truth has nuance and what I thought was fairly clear cut is not quite so clear.  For example, right now I am reading a lengthy treatise on Cliven Bundy—the Nevada rancher who has been fighting the Federal government for the right to graze his cattle on federal grasslands without paying a fee.  Reading the backstory is giving me a much greater understanding of where the Bundys are coming from.  While I still don’t agree with most of their positions, I do see a different way to have the conversation to come to an agreement.  And couldn’t we all do with a bit more understanding of where others are coming from?

Before I went to grad school at Penn State, I was a city girl who ardently opposed sport hunting.  I remember walking on College Avenue one day, seeing a car drive by with a deer strapped across the roof rack.  “How can they just kill these magnificent creatures?!” I would judgmentally exclaim.  Then I began to talk with my new friends, many of whom had been sport hunters all their lives.  I learned about deer overpopulation because their natural predator, the mountain lion, had been driven out.  I learned how deer were starving.  I learned about the true sport hunter and the ethics of sport hunting:  only fire when you can make a clean kill, use the meat, follow the state game rules.  I still abhor people who sit on the tops of hills with a high powered rifle, just knocking off animals for the fun of it.  But I understand and appreciate true sport hunting.  I appreciated it even more after I had a car accident with a deer!

In a business environment, assuming “easy answers” brings a lack of understanding across business functions that need to work together to accomplish a goal.  Things always look simple from a distance.  If you are in sales and you need a tweak to a product to close the deal, that tweak can often seem pretty minor–unless you are the process engineer who needs to figure out how to do that tweak.  Magnify this difficulty ten times when someone gets the “bright idea” to enter a new market without sufficient research.  Distance from the details always makes things look simple and straightforward.  We’ve talked about assumptions.  Don’t assume that just because you don’t know how difficult something can be that it must be easy.

This issue is exasperated in large organizations where those several layers above the people doing the work do not understand what it takes to get something done.  I remember a time when a hurricane flooded out a production facility.  Once the flood waters receded, a team was put together to assess the damage and execute repairs.  These people worked day and night for several weeks.  It was an amazing effort!  The quick turnaround saved the company loads of money in lost sales.  I was in a meeting where this result was brought up in side conversation. The senior manager’s take was “Geez, why can’t we get people to work like this all the time?” DO YOU HAVE ANY FREAKIN’ IDEA WHAT THOSE PEOPLE WENT THROUGH?  No, you don’t.  You were too far removed from the details of the effort. That was not sustainable! 

In this current world, where we are inundated with sound bites from all directions, resist the temptation to just accept what you read and hear.  Consider the source.  Dig a little bit to find all sides of the story.  As with other topics we’ve discussed, though, you do need to pick your battles.  It is time consuming and mentally exhausting to try to research every little thing.  However, never doing it is just as dangerous.  Even just retaining the consciousness that you may not know enough to judge is a very good thing.  Certainly you would want people who might judge–or misjudge–you and your actions to take the time to understand.  So even if you don’t have the time to dig into it, at least remember that if what you are hearing sounds ridiculous, simple or dumb, you probably just don’t know enough about it.

Wednesdays with Peg

A few times in your life you are lucky to meet someone who can best be described as a force of nature.  My mother-in-law, Peg Lawlor, was such a person.  As we recognize the one year anniversary of her passing, I wanted to share a little of her with you and the impact she continues to have on me. 

I met my wife, Trish, not quite five years ago after a lifetime of searching.  How we met is a story for another time, but suffice to say that we met, and when we did my life changed immeasurably for the better.  I had considered myself a “fully formed” person by the time I hit my 50’s, yet Trish opened up an entire world to me that I didn’t even know I wanted.  She had a close group of long time friends and an extended family that was both physically and emotionally close.  But no one in this group taught me more about the importance of family (both blood and chosen) than her Mom, Peg.

Meeting Peg was by far the most angst-inducing part of the process of integrating into Trish’s life.  Not that the rest of it was easy!  The members of her “posse”, a group of wonderful down to earth and embracing people, each pulled me aside one by one to basically threaten me with dismemberment if I mistreated this woman who meant so much to them.  Her two sisters, brother, attendant spouses and nine nieces and nephews essentially descended upon me en masse to check me out.  Keep in mind that I come from a small, very quiet southern family.  My head just about exploded trying to keep track of who-knows-how-many gregarious, story-telling, everyone-talking-at-once Irish Philadelphians.

I sensed, though, that meeting Peg—the matriarch of this clan—was going to be a critical step.  Knowing that she was a fellow scotch drinker, I made sure to pick up a bottle of her favorite label before our introduction (just the three of us).  I don’t think Trish knew how nervous I was.  But I didn’t need to be.  I felt folded into her metaphorical embrace from the moment we met.  And also from the moment we met, I knew someone very special had just come into my life.

The family would get together regularly, be it for holidays, birthdays or just because.  Peg held court wherever and whenever we were together.   She inherited a wicked story telling gene from her father and while she clearly passed it on to her offspring, she was still the best.  She would hold us in rapt attention and laughing in stitches every time.  I learned to restrict fluids whenever going to one of these gatherings.  (Any post-menopausal woman reading this essay will get that reference!)

All the grandkids wanted to hear GrandMarge (she didn’t want to be called Grandma) tell stories.  For Peg, this was a critical way of keeping family lore intact and establishing that critical family bond across the generations.  And thanks to a turn of luck, I got to spend a good amount of one-on-one time with this amazing woman during the last few years of her life. 

Life was clearly sending me a signal toward the end of June in 2016.  Over the span of just one week, Trish and I combined households, my old home sold, and I lost my job.  As I looked to transition to retirement, I took on a bit of regular “Peg” responsibility since I had the time during the week.  Every Wednesday, I would take Peg to the hairdresser, run a few errands for her and usually grocery shop.  This was one-on-one time for us and gave us the chance to really talk.  I will treasure those Wednesdays with Peg for the rest of my life.

We talked about a lot of things, but most often family.  I learned about her father, how important family was to him and how he ingrained that thinking into his children.  She told me so many stories about when her kids were young, summers in the Poconos, all the trouble they (ok, especially Trish) would get into and the blessing that her grandchildren had been.  Knowing that she was nearing the end of her days on this earth, we talked a lot about how important it was to her that her children and grandchildren carry on that family closeness.  It wasn’t about her.  It was about passing on the richness of those connections and the security of that familial embrace.  Look, life was not perfect.  There were times of stress and discord.  She would agonize whenever any of her kids weren’t getting along, but knew she couldn’t interfere.  “They are going to have to work things out once I’m gone,” she’d say. “I know they will work through it now.”  She had provided the example and push during their younger lives.

But it was more than these discussions of family.  It was that sense I would get during our time together of feeling strongly connected and cared for by someone I also cared for deeply.  I struggle over the words, here, because this was such a unique relationship for me.  She made me feel special just by spending time with me.  We would verbally spar and tease each other.  She would ask my thoughts just as often as I asked for hers.  She brought me into this fabulous world that revolved around her (although she never noticed how much people wanted to be around her).

I know members of my own birth family are reading this essay and I don’t want them to feel that I have absorbed my in-laws to the exclusion of them.  On the contrary, the lessons I’ve learned from Peg have caused me to pull closer to them.  Everyone has been up here to visit (as well as at our wedding) and I think they each understand what I mean when I talk about the uniqueness of this family.  Peg taught me to value every member of my family more deeply and try to understand them and engage with them in a way that will continue to strengthen bonds.  The distance is hard, but we’re trying (with varying degrees of success).

Peg suffered through a long and painful decline.  It took its toll on the family and strained relationships at times.  Her passing hit all of us hard.  But at the luncheon after her funeral, dozens of friends and extended family members laughed and drank and told stories until the wee hours.  (I didn’t last until the wee hours, but I heard tell.)  We even passed a microphone around so all could share in the laughs.  And now, about a year later, I know Peg is with us whenever we get together in fours or eights or a dozen or more.  We laugh, we love.  We share minutia, we back each other during difficult times.

That legacy that was so important to Peg, even though she didn’t see it as her legacy, lives on and will continue to live on through her kids and grandkids, cousins and spouses, and even various hangers-on that so want to be a part of this magic.  I was so blessed to know this woman and be embraced by this family.  What I will be forever most grateful for, though, were those Wednesdays with Peg.

Personal Accountability

I have been anticipating writing this essay since the idea for this blog went from idea to reality.  People who know me know that this concept of owning your decisions and actions, owning your own role in creating the situation you are in, is a BIG hot button of mine.  I’ve built your expectations of an “essay to beat all other essays” as I’ve teased the appearance of this entry.  We’ve been building up to it over the last three essays, discussing first identifying the RIGHT problem to solve, then thinking forward a few steps in your decision-making process to ensure you are making the best decision, followed by a discussion on the consequences of the actions (or inactions) you take.  It all boils down to this thought, though:  whatever decision you make, whatever actions you take (or don’t take), whatever consequences occur because of those decisions and actions, you must own the outcome and deal with it.  So, here we go. (Steps up onto soapbox)

All of you out there, whether you’ve been in large multinational corporations or small “mom and pop” shops know someone like this:  They walk around every day grumbling about how unhappy they are.  “This place SUCKS,” you will often hear them sneer.  “I hate it here.”  After a while, you lose your patience and ask the obvious question:  why don’t you leave?  Invariably, the answer is “I can’t.  I’m stuck here.”  Oh, I got so tired of hearing “victim talk”!  You were not stuck there!  You just didn’t like the consequences of your other options.  You chose to stay, whether you wanted to admit it or not.  That was usually when I wanted to scream, “Shut up about it and make the best of the situation!  Own your choice to stay.”

I know another person, a serial small time entrepreneur.  He has had glimpses of brilliance, but invariably within a year or two each venture has failed.  Miserably.  Every time our paths would cross, there would be another sob story about what went wrong.  It was always due to issues beyond his control:  I couldn’t find good employees; the location was bad; there was too much local competition; and, my favorite, I was misled about the opportunity.  Do you know what I have never heard from him?  I have never heard any such version of:  this is what I’ve learned from this venture and what I know to look out for next time.  Never, I repeat, never has anything ever been his fault, or had he done anything which he could consider learning from for his next venture.

While I hesitate to go here, there is an awful lot of victim-playing going on in our current social environment.  The types of opportunities available to certain groups of people have changed as our economy has evolved.  Accepting that and asking the hard questions about what you need to do differently to get on a better path is hard work.  And often depressing.  And can leave you feeling helpless and hopeless.  For many, it is easier to play the victim and blame the “other”.  Unfortunately, our current social environment has embraced blaming the “other” to a violent and clearly counterproductive degree.  I know it’s hard, but OWN your situation.  Life may not have treated you fairly but blaming someone else is not going to make your situation better.

Although I’ve now spent about half this essay talking about how annoying, frustrating or even dangerous it is when other people don’t own their choices, I want to focus on you.  Or, rather, get YOU to focus on you.  As much as I’d like to complain about the behaviors of others, I can’t make them act any differently.  I can only affect my own actions, just as you can only affect yours.  So, as I step down from my soapbox, let’s discuss some ways to resist playing the victim and set strategies for successfully owning your own decisions and their consequences.

First, let’s be clear and honest about one thing:  consistently owning your decisions and their consequences, consistently resisting playing the victim, is difficult work.  It is downright exhausting.  And it is hard.  You will, at times, blame others or something out of your control.  That’s ok.  Sometimes that becomes a self-preservation mechanism.  The key is to not do this most of the time nor to get stuck in that mode even for a given situation, like a job loss or relationship crumble.

I hear the cries from the gallery:  “Sherri, what do you, or anyone else, care about how I handle my own crises?  It’s none of your dang business.  Leave me alone and stay in your lane.”  I hear you and in some cases that is true.  However, in most cases, you not owning the consequences of your decisions affects many others.  And those of us affected care very much!  Even if we don’t care much about you, personally, we care that you’ve impacted our situation.  So, gallery, it’s not just about you.

Over the years, I have sat on panel discussions aimed at various age ranges, to discuss “what should students/young adults do to best prepare themselves for success in the ‘real’ world?”  I would listen to my fellow panelists wax poetic for extended periods of time discussing various strategies for success.  When the mic came to me, I always shared some short version of this:  Show up on time; do what you say you’re going to do; own the consequences of your decisions and actions.

As someone who has hired and managed scores of people over my career, these were always my guiding principles for evaluating employees and the standard to which I tried to hold myself.  It’s not rocket science, but nor is it necessarily easy.  I promised strategies, so here is what I recommend:  as noted above, no one can hold themselves to this standard 100% of the time.  It’s ok to give yourself a little pity party.  We all do it.  But make it short and keep it as private as you can.  Remember that you are not doing this to be accountable to anyone but yourself.  Others will benefit, but no one more so than you.  You are worth it.  You want to like what you see when you look in the mirror.  It can be extraordinarily frustrating to see many others around and above you shirking responsibility but I guarantee this:  over time, it will in some way come around to them; and the longer it takes the worse it will be.  Shut them out.  Focus on yourself.  Show up on time.  Do what you say you’re going to do.  Own the consequences of your decisions and actions.

Consequences

When I was in high school, I had a math teacher named Ms. Counts.  Yes, really.  And I didn’t see the humor in that name until I was much older!  Ms. Counts was a no nonsense lady.  She dressed impeccably and sat ramrod straight on a stool next to her overhead projector where she’d teach her lesson for the day.  As she wrote, the spool of transparency film containing her writing (this was the ‘70s) would ooze down the aisle behind the projector as we all tried to keep up.  My classmates would often raise objections when she announced a test or homework.  Invariably, Ms. Counts would respond, “You don’t have to take the test” or do the homework or whatever.  She’d wait a beat to get hopes up and then would say, “as long as you are willing to accept the consequences.” Then she would smile her Ms. Counts smile. 

Decisions and consequences.  In the last couple of essays, we discussed the need to make sure you are identifying the REAL problem to put your efforts toward solving and then the equally important need to think forward a few steps to make sure the pathway you are evaluating is not actually going to make things worse.  This process is all about evaluating the consequences of actions and that is what I want to spend time unpacking today.

Throughout my life, I have heard people make this statement in explanation of an action or inaction:  “I had no choice.” For a long time, I accepted that justification.  I would look at the situation from my best guess of their point of view and say, “Well, I guess you are right,” even if that decision had a fairly negative impact on me.  Once I entered my Ferocious Forties (and all the life experience that came with that age), I realized that comment is absolute bullshit.  Repeat after me:  You always have choices; you just don’t like the consequences those choices bring. You will always choose the decision that has the most acceptable (or least unacceptable) consequence.  You are assuming, of course, that you truly know what the consequences are.  But since most of us do this evaluation subconsciously (and instantaneously), the assumptions you are making about which consequences you are facing are often faulty.  The first step toward addressing this issue of faulty assumptions is to first realize that you DO have choices and those choices DO have different consequences.  What are the choices?  What are the consequences you have presumed?  What assumptions have you made that led you to those presumptions and have you tested their veracity?  (Starting to understand why I find “assumptions” so critical?)  Following this process consciously will not only lead to better decisions but also, I hope, better ownership of the choices you have made.

Choices and consequences are also strongly related to priorities.  Thus, this process also works well when someone tells you that they just don’t have time or money for (blank).  That is wimp-speak for “what you are asking me to do is not a high enough priority for me and I don’t accept the consequences of shifting said priorities.”  Here is another repeat-after-me:  You always have time and money for the things that are important to you (read: high priority).  One of my last deadly volunteer activities while I was at Air Products was taking over the leadership of a cross-business task force looking into the need for a formal Career Development activity at the company.  Since this would invariably cost money and take time, this group was tasked first with defining the need for access to this capability.  The process involved interviewing many employees from across levels and business functions as well as senior executives.  Executive after executive would tell me, “Gosh, Career Development is so important.  I wish I had more time to devote to it.”  After talking to dozens of employees who said, essentially, “I have no idea where to even START,” I reported back to the Executive Committee.  What I tried to get across were two thoughts:  1) Knowing how to kick start your career was either instinctive to you executives or you lucked into great mentors when you needed them.  You had no trouble, so you don’t understand why anyone else does; and, 2) You would have plenty of time to devote to this issue if you considered it a higher priority—see #1.  I don’t need to tell you how that went over.

Look, I don’t want you to beat people up who don’t give to your fundraiser because they don’t consider it a high priority (“I don’t have the cash to spare”) or don’t do something with you because “they don’t have enough time”.  Focus, instead, on how to make what you want a higher priority for them.  How does your cause impact them directly (or someone or something they care about)?  What do they get out of spending time with you—are you proposing an activity they like?  Make whatever “it” is about them and not just about you.  Similarly, don’t get mad at (or judgmental about) someone for making a decision that you think is idiotic based on the consequences that YOU see. What are the consequences of action or inaction that they are evaluating that led them to their choice?  Increasing transparency to information may change how they see those consequences.  Or, perhaps, understanding their “big picture” might cause you to reevaluate how you see the consequence trade-off.

My high school math class would always sigh and murmur after Ms. Counts would say that line about accepting consequences. But we all knew what she meant.  No one is MAKING you do anything.  You may not WANT to take the test or do the homework, but neither are you willing to fail the class.  You know the consequences.  Don’t whine and play the victim.  Own your choices; own your actions; own the consequences of them.  And regarding that personal accountability?  We’ll tackle that one next time. I dare say my classmates and I internalized those critical lessons about consequences, choices and priorities and we are all the better for it.  Ms. Counts, wherever you are, thank you.

Learn to Play Chess

When I was a kid, my Dad taught me to play chess.  I only realize now, in my late 50’s, what incredible perseverance my Dad had.  I couldn’t have been more than 6 or 8 when he taught me and I doubt I had much patience with the game.  He seemed to agonize over which move he would make.  I did not.  Or at least not at first.  However, learning to play chess was worth the effort.  Chess is a wonderful metaphor for decision making in general.  More specifically, for the importance of thinking through the consequences of your decisions as well as “thinking several moves ahead” of your current position.

As many of you know, I grew up in Atlanta, Georgia, which has a storied history with kudzu.  Kudzu is a vine native to Japan that was introduced in the US at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition in 1876.  It was soon brought to the south as an ornamental vine to shade porches and backyards.  The big purple flower just added to the appeal.  Kudzu proved to be a hardy, fast growing vine.  Since Southern farmers had just about thoroughly depleted the soil by growing so much cotton, the government decided to push kudzu planting to stem major soil erosion.  What could go wrong?

What went wrong is that kudzu quite literally took over the South. The Atlanta of my youth was one big kudzu covered mound.  No one apparently voiced concern that kudzu was not native to the area, so the natural forces that kept it in check might not be there.  The vine was uncontrollable, even choking out forests.  By the mid-70’s, kudzu covered 7 million acres of land in the south.  In recent years, the effort has focused on eradication—everything from herbicides to goats to another Japanese import, Megacopta cribraria, a bug that’s been chomping its way through kudzu growth since it landed accidently (probably through the airport) around 2009—and, yes, we don’t know yet what else it might chomp through.  (Thank you to the Atlanta Journal Constitution for these fun kudzu facts.)

My point is this:  no one took the time, back in 1876 when it was first brought over, or in the 1930’s and ‘40s when kudzu was purposely introduced to control erosion, to ask the question about what might happen next.  Examples abound in our casual abuse of nature, since she has had about 4 billion years to evolve a beautiful balance and we seem to be able to upset that balance in decades or less.  But there are plenty of other examples of not thinking a few steps ahead across our lives.

Let’s take active involvement in deposing a horrible dictator, like Sadam Hussein or Mummar Khadafi.  Both were horrible, violent rulers.  Few in our society could argue that they should be stopped.  However, in both Iraq and Libya, where the US was either very publicly or more covertly involved in removing those dictators, the aftermath was a mess.  Why?  Because as horrible strong men, they kept their countries together by force.  In the absence of that force, there was a vacuum of control and violent civil wars ensued.  Let’s remember that these areas are tribal lands and have been for thousands of years before the winners of WWII drew “country” boundaries. Allegiances were always more to the tribe than to the country as a whole.  While this probable outcome was no surprise to many who understand these lands and people, there was still very little effort put into the “post-deposition” plan.  Tens or hundreds of thousands of people died.  It’s important to think a few steps ahead.

There are many examples each one of you could think of in your workplaces or in your home life.  How about the very common situation of a company needing to reduce costs to improve profitability?  While I would love to get on my soapbox about “you can’t save your way to profitability,” cost reduction schemes often get companies a quick boost on Wall Street.  I’ve been through those discussions about who loses their jobs (the only real way to save quick bucks).  You can’t just pick off the biggest salaries or the people least likely to sue.  You must think through how a person fits into the organization, the skills they bring (both technical and personal), who depends on their output, who can pick up the slack or how you can make the work go away.  I say “you must” but we all know that rarely happens effectively or at all.  And even if you try, there are always consequences you can’t effectively mitigate.  However, most of the time, managers don’t think several steps ahead and the consequences can be disastrous and long lasting.

Another common situation is how people choose a car.  I want that sleek looking coupe!  Too bad I didn’t think about how to get a car seat in the back or, even worse, how my elderly Mom is going to get in and out of the front seat (or her walker not fitting in the non-existent trunk).  Then there are the people who really, really, really want to drive a luxury car but can’t afford to buy a new one.  They are focused on their monthly car payment, so they either buy a used car or lease one.  What they often don’t think about is the cost to insure a luxury car vs. a more modest vehicle.  Or the cost to maintain or repair one.  Or even the need to use premium fuel vs. 87 octane.  I applaud those that think about the full cost of ownership.  I also know you are rare.

Just as it is critically important to ask five successive “why” questions when trying to identify a real root cause problem, it is equally important to ask a few successive “what” questions when thinking about the consequences of a decision or action.  Ask yourself: “If I make this decision, what do I expect to happen, both good and bad?”  What steps could you take to mitigate the bad things that might happen and what other things might THOSE actions cause?  Go down a few levels.  Then try that with a different decision.  Think a few steps ahead, just like you would in a chess game.  What seems like a good move at first can be disastrous.  And what seems like a wimpy move could end up leading you to win the game.

There’s a bit of a thought flow developing here.  First we discussed identifying the REAL problem you are trying to solve.  Today we discussed thinking through the consequences of your decision to help choose the most favorable path.  Coming up is a more thorough treatment of “consequences”, leading to one of my favorite topics (OK, it’s more of a hot button)—taking personal responsibility for your actions.  Stay tuned!

What Problem are you REALLY Trying to Solve?

If you are a regular reader of my essays, you know that I have been gifted with a number of wonderful bosses and mentors throughout my life and career.  At some point, we’ll discuss some of the non-wonderful ones but not today.  I am reminded often of a lesson that another of my favorite bosses taught me.  This lesson came during the “at the lab bench” part of my career.  My lab mates and I were working on developing new chemical products to solve a particular need we saw in the market or trying to solve customers’ problems with existing products we were already selling.  We would often have heated discussions during project review meetings, arguing about the proper pathway or the interpretation of data.  Our boss, known for being quiet until he wasn’t, would listen for a while and then cut us off with his favorite line:  “What problem are you really trying to solve?”

We’d stop talking, mouths open mid-word.  We’d look at each other.  One brave person would try to frame the question.  Another would disagree.  We’d start talking over each other again and he would cut off discussion once more:  What. Problem.  Are you.  REALLY. Trying to solve?  We’d try again and in a few minutes we’d have agreement on what the real issue was.  Amazingly, alignment on next steps came quickly after that. 

This concept of stopping up front to define the true issue or problem is broadly applicable.  Everyone has assumptions they’ve made about the REAL problem, but usually those assumptions are not verified.  I’ll stay away from controversial political examples (of which there are many) and give a simple household one.  Let’s say you have a water stain on your kitchen ceiling.  Well, you have a stain.  Saying it’s a water stain is an assumption.  The easiest thing to do would be to get out some paint and paint over it.  Problem solved.  Until it comes back.  Then you hit it with KILZ and paint.  Proud of yourself, you keep one eye on the ceiling and go on about your life.  Dangit.  It came back again!  The issue is that the problem you are trying to solve is not the stain.  That’s the symptom.  The real problem is that you have a water leak in the bathroom upstairs.  Not as easy to fix, but you can paint that ceiling 900 times and if you don’t fix the REAL problem, the stain will always come back.

It’s human nature to look for easy fixes.  Sometimes they actually work but most of the time they don’t.  Not getting enough breakthroughs in R&D?  Fire and replace the staff.  Not getting enough traction in the market for your new product?  Take out more ads.  Not able to hire and retain reliable staff?  Must be the talent pool. Finding and then owning the REAL problem takes work. No one wants to hear that they have made the wrong investments in R&D strategy or that the product they introduced does not meet the market need or that their skills as a manager and leader do not attract top talent.

One method I like to use is “The Five Whys”, often employed in Root Cause Analysis studies.  The basics of this technique are simple:  when trying to identify a true, underlying issue, ask “Why” at least five times.  To see how the technique works, let’s try out the five Whys on a simple problem.  How about the “hypothetical” issue of my weight gain in the last few years:

1.  Why have you put on weight, Sherri?  Well, I’m older now and have been through “The Change”.  It happens.

2.  Why would getting older and going through said Change cause you to put on weight?  Um, my metabolism has dropped.  My body doesn’t use calories the same way anymore.  Happens to every woman.  Nothing I can do about it.  Oh, and Trish has taught me to enjoy a glass of nice wine regularly.

3. Why would your metabolism changing (and the regular glass of wine) cause you to gain weight?  Well…I guess I don’t use as many calories anymore for energy.  And wine has more calories than water.

4.  Why would more calories and less efficient usage of them cause you to gain weight?  I’m taking in more calories than I’m burning, Einstein.  That’s the only reason people gain weight.

5.  Don’t get snippy.  Why are you taking in more calories than you are burning?  Sigh.  Because I need to control portion size and perhaps gets to spin class more often.

Getting to the REAL problem has a few key advantages.  First, you design solutions that get at the source of the problem and not a symptom.  Second, you are forced to face a more complex or simply “less fun” solution than you might really prefer to pursue.  Third, as in the case above, you are forced to take personal responsibility for the solution instead of playing the victim, which I will plumb in more detail in a future essay.

Now the above was a rather obvious example.  For more complex issues, you can find yourself really surprised by the answers to those third, fourth and fifth “whys”.  Wouldn’t it be nice to see this process used on the more intractable issues of our day, such as drug overuse, immigration, gun violence, environmental policy, tax policy, even trade?  I’d sure like to see us get at solutions to the real problem instead of reacting to a symptom.  These are complex issues requiring multi-faceted solutions.

Recognizing the importance of identifying the root problem is also key in creating strong relationships.  During my career, I facilitated countless discussions involving employee disputes.  The gratifying outcome is they usually solved the problem themselves.  My role was getting them to actually LISTEN to each other, discover what incorrect assumptions they were making about each other’s behavior, and get them to articulate the real issue between them.  Once that was achieved, resolution usually happened quickly.  I try to use this thought process in my personal life, as well.  Don’t assume what is driving someone’s behavior.  Get to the root issue behind the disagreements and own your piece of it.

I’ve vacillated on how to end this essay.  I could implore you to apply this goal of identifying underlying causes as you think about the big issues of today.  I could remind you that the first challenge in getting to the real problem is untested, unarticulated assumptions (which you know is a favorite topic of mine).  But I think I’m going to end this way:  give yourself and others around you a little grace.  We’ve all got so much going on, that it seems almost impossible to take the time and mental effort to get at the real problem, bust through the blame game and fight the desire for a simple solution.  Yes, you have to pick your battles.  But please pick them.  Problems, big and small, will never get fixed until you understand what problem you’re really trying to solve.

The Most Important Leadership Quality

Now, THAT is a presumptuous title for an essay!  Teasing out critical leadership characteristics is an entire field of study that many people wiser than me have devoted their lives to figuring out.  And making the assumption that I can give that topic any sort of decent treatment in a 1000 or so word essay is probably brave.  So let me start out by saying that these thoughts are mine and mine alone, and built from no more rigorous research than what I have observed over my life and career.

I have had the opportunity to study leadership in many a training class and seminar.  I have been to Leadership Development camps designed by two different multi-billion dollar, multi-national companies.  I have even been fortunate enough to have had a personal leadership coach.  Go on the web, search “top leadership characteristics” and you’ll get a slew of lists from Forbes to Tony Robbins to the Center for Creative Leadership.  They usually contain such stalwarts as integrity, ability to delegate, ability to inspire, communication skills, decisiveness, and passion.  All good qualities, to be sure.  And while I hesitate to pick one that stands out from all the rest, I’m going to do it anyway.

I believe the most important characteristic of a good leader is humility.

Let’s think about that for a minute.  To be “humble” as I use the word here is “to have or show a modest estimate of one’s own importance.” (Dictionary.com)  That doesn’t seem to jive with many of the characteristics noted above, which are often high energy and forceful.  One thinks of a humble person as deferential and quiet.  Not what we think of when we think of a “strong leader”.  I beg to differ.  I propose that the effectiveness of those other characteristics is directly correlated with the level of humility that the leader embodies.

The importance of this concept was really driven home to me during my stint leading one particular Intertek business.  Because of distance and other responsibilities, I was only on site for one or two days a week—and that was when I wasn’t traveling somewhere else.  This type of management is only possible if you have a strong #2 on site every day.  When I first took over the business, I inherited a very strong personality as my second in command, one who had been with this particular business for decades, long before Intertek purchased it.  Our working relationship took no small effort to build since he naturally thought that HE should be leading the business, not me.  He quickly realized that since I was physically there only a relatively small amount of time, he could just do what he wanted (to a point) while I wasn’t there.   The “what” he did wasn’t a huge problem.  He ran the day-to-day operations and there wasn’t too much wiggle in the “what”.  It was the “how” that was the big problem.  I would catch him summoning people to his office for regular yelling sessions.  And he would always summon them to him—I rarely saw him walking the halls.  He led through intimidation one minute and then, maybe after he read an article in the Harvard Business Review, would suddenly get poetic about the importance of personal accountability (in others).  You never knew which personality you would get from day to day, although he always managed to be deferential to me and to others when he knew I was watching.  As much as this behavior gnawed at me, I did not take immediate action because I needed him: he really knew the business!  Finally, as a prelude to putting him on a Performance Improvement Plan, I sat him down for a talk.  “The most important quality in a leader is humility,” I told him, to start the conversation.  We talked a lot about his “how”.  He refuted every statement I made.  Within a week, he quit.  And while he left a big hole to fill, the majority of the organization heaved a sigh of relief.

What drives a leader’s behavior can be a tricky topic of discussion, especially when you are talking with other leaders as opposed to those they lead.  Let’s be honest:  the perceived power of many leadership positions drives ego.  We’ve all fallen prey to it now and then.  But what really should drive a leader is the awesome responsibility of the position as it relates to the people who are depending upon you to make decisions that impact their wellbeing.  The larger the leadership position, the greater the impact on a larger group of people and the greater the probability that each decision will impact some more positively than others.  Finding and owning that balance requires introspection and deep personal ownership of the outcome.

Humility is what causes a leader to recognize that she doesn’t have all the right answers all the time.  She has the confidence to seek true counsel, not just confirmation of her positions.  The humble leader remembers that the real work gets done by others and she needs to focus first on making sure they have what they need to be successful.  Her success is dependent upon their success.  What they need is a well-articulated direction and strategy and the tools to execute, not required blind adherence to a set of rules not explained.

Humble leaders don’t lead through fear and intimidation.  They lead through motivation.  Employees respect him.  And he’s earned their respect, in turn, by respecting and valuing them for what they bring to the table.  The difference between a good business and a great business is that extra bit of effort an employee chooses to give: that extra bit of attention to a report; that extra bit of time with a customer on the phone; that extra question they ask themselves about the quality of their work that causes them to choose to spend more time to get it right.  People want to work for the humble leader and give that extra bit of effort because they know he will notice.  They know he will say “thank you”—and mean it. 

She has no real problem finding and retaining strong employees.  When something goes wrong, the humble leader does not ask who’s at fault but rather “what can we learn from this?”  And the humble leader does not blame “conditions outside of my control” for her struggles, but rather asks “what can I do differently next time?” She does not shirk personal responsibility and accountability. The humble leader is not “soft”.  She will discipline as needed and do so quickly—the whole organization is depending upon her to do just that.

We’ve all worked for both types of leaders—those more humble and those infinitely impressed with themselves (and who seem to desire your constant confirmation of it).  I don’t have to ask who you prefer working with.  I’ve tried to be a humble leader when at all possible.  I have not been 100% successful and look back with a bit of embarrassment at those times when I was more caught up in the position than being respectful of what the position required of me.  I learned the humility lesson over time and through seeing the huge difference it made when I took a more humble approach.  If you are a newer leader, give some thought to this concept.  Save yourself some time and pain!  Get over yourself now and you will have a lot more to be proud of over the length of your career.

Transitioning to Retirement (Part III)

This essay is my last installment (for now) on the process I’ve identified for transitioning into retirement.  The first two essays in this series described that process and explored the first three steps in detail.  Today, I’m going to take you through the last two steps and leave you with some final thoughts on this exciting time in your life.

When we last left our riveting story, I was struggling with what to do with my time once I had detoxed from thirty years of intense work and had enjoyed months of stress-free endless vacation time.  Alas, all good things must come to an end and I started to get “rutchey” (for those of you who don’t know Pennsylvania Dutch, it means I got “shpilkes”).  One of the first forays I made into “doing something that means something” was reaching out to a local woman’s college and offering myself to their Chemistry Department.  I wanted to mentor young women going into the sciences, giving them the benefit of my years of hard won wisdom.  At first, they were thrilled.  But since I brought the idea to them instead of being “recruited”, the responsibility to define the nature of engagement fell to me.  I gave a presentation to their upper classmen, who clearly did NOT get my humor and didn’t know what to do with me. The professors really only wanted me to get them free help to fix and maintain analytical instruments.  Over a fairly short period of time, I got tired of the hour drive up to the Valley and definitely tired of the effort required on my part to gain acceptance.  I felt like I was pushing myself on them and had already spent too many years pushing, pushing, pushing to advance in my career.  No, this wasn’t what I wanted.  Not now.  So, I stopped showing up and they didn’t seem to care.

Could I have made a real difference there?  Absolutely.  I could have spent a lot more time on campus and developed a detailed structure to guide my interactions with students, faculty and staff.  With time and persistence, I could have built a place for myself there that I know would have made a difference for them and for me.  And, in fact, they did ask if I’d consider being an adjunct professor and teach some lab sections.  (Trish and I were starting to travel more and I wasn’t about to make a commitment to a semester of teaching that would curtail that!)  But this wasn’t the Catharsis I was looking for.  I took on a few short consulting gigs that basically involved me pontificating on the phone and getting paid $250 an hour.  THAT I really enjoyed!  But, again, I was happy letting those opportunities come to me instead of searching them out and marketing my knowledge. 

Then I got a phone call from the President of an industry group that I’d been involved in for years.  I was even serving on their Board of Directors when I left Intertek.  The request was to come on board as a Project Manager of an initiative that I had championed when I was on the Board.  I was really excited about the topic!  I said No.  He called again.  I said No again.  Just as a rabbi makes you knock on the door a third time as a way of demonstrating commitment before you can convert to Judaism, I waited for that third call.  Trish encouraged me to go visit them and give it a hard look.  She could see the passion in my eyes and hear it in my voice.  She knew this was something I wanted to do.  I had reached Stage Four:  Catharsis.

I signed a one year contract and over that time was able to advance a passion around Innovation Leadership training into a reality.  Did everything go perfectly?  Emphatically no.  Did I achieve all I wanted to achieve in that time period?  No again.  But, boy, did I enjoy that year!  I reconnected with a number of people whom I really respected and enjoyed being with.  They validated that I still had solid ideas and perspectives which was quite healing.  (I was even presented with about a half dozen job opportunities, should I have wished to have gotten back into an industrial position.)  And, I put together a product that I felt fulfilled my vision on what this educational tool should do.  I even recruited my successor.  That year of contract work was exactly what I needed.  But the one year was enough.  I had entered a New Normal (Stage 5) but that didn’t mean it was permanent. 

There certainly are people who go through this cycle once and embrace a New Normal that will last the rest of their lives.  That is awesome but it is not my story.  I lost my energy around the topic of Innovation Leadership which had been a part of my life for so long. Once I handed over project leadership I went right back into Detox.  Did I consider this a failure?  No, not by a long shot.  I realized that this cycle of transition is going to continue for the rest of my life.  I know I’m still growing, learning and evolving.  For thirty years, that happened in the context of an industrial career.  I changed position and focus multiple times over that period.  Now I’m a freelancer and those changes will happen outside of the umbrella of a single context.

A lot of changes have already happened over the time since I left Intertek.  I moved.  I got married.  I integrated into my tight family of in-laws.  I began to travel.  I got onto a sharp growth curve, this one more personal than professional.  My desire to write began to build again.  I had written a piece about my old synagogue that was published a decade ago and the impact of that essay was brought home to me again last year. I went to the Bat Mitzvah of the young girl at the center of that story.  The Rabbi read my essay as his message to her and it brought back to me the joy I got from writing.  Then last fall was that horrendous mass shooting at a synagogue in Pittsburgh.  It affected me more than I realized and an essay came pouring out.  I posted it on Facebook.  The response I got was unexpected and blew me away.  I could reach people with my words.  It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.  Now was the time to try it.

That was my most recent Catharsis and led to the creation of this blog.  I have thoroughly enjoyed the process thus far and am under no illusion that I will become a viral sensation.  (Although, Oprah, if you’d like to talk with me about my thoughts I’m easily reachable.)  I also know that this is not my last cycle through the Five Stages of Transitioning to Retirement.  At some point, the need to grow will push me again.  I have no idea what direction I might move toward and I’m excited to find out!  I know I am blessed to have the means to let this process lead me where it may.  And I am doubly blessed to have all of you join me on this journey!

Transitioning to Retirement (Part II)

In my last essay, Transitioning to Retirement (Part I), I introduced you to my five step process for managing the abrupt change from work into retirement.  Those five steps are: Detox, Endless Vacation, What Day is it?, Catharsis and The New Normal.  After a brief description of each of those stages, I dove a bit deeper into Detox.  Today, we are going to tackle the next two steps:  Endless Vacation and What Day is it?  The first is probably the most enjoyable time you will ever have in your life.  The second will be one of the most disconcerting. 

As you may remember, the timing of my move into retirement was not exactly of my own choosing.  That sort of intensity change, from 110 miles per hour to about zero overnight, can leave you numb and at a bit of a loss for what to do when your eyes open in the morning.  I was lucky in that I saw my probable unemployment coming for several months and had some time to prepare (if not anticipate).  My Detox time really only lasted a couple of weeks and even that may be generous.  I was just done.  That last year was so exhausting and mentally debilitating, and I was close enough to my planned retirement year, that I just said “enough”.  I knew I wasn’t going back to full time work.

As luck would have it, I was “retired” in late June.  I still woke up with the early morning sun, but now my days stretched in front of me with glorious…..glorious……What is the word I’m looking for?  Not laziness, although there was plenty of that.  Not nothingness, because it wasn’t that either.  Leisure!  Glorious leisure!  Think about those times you had a long weekend, like Memorial Day or maybe July 4th.  Maybe you tacked on a few extra days and stretched it into a week or so.  Maybe you went to the shore or the mountains.  Maybe you just stayed home.  But you looked in front of you and thought, “Wow.  I have X days to just live before I have to go back to work!”  Then that time just sped by and before you knew it, there was that pit in your stomach.  “I’d better check e-mail, just to know what’s waiting for me.”  You start thinking about what you know is coming up and then about what might be coming up and then you start thinking about some of the people you’ll have to deal with and….it’s over.

It’s fitting that I started drafting this essay while in Aruba for a week.  Those weeks in Aruba over the years (yes, some people actually LIKE their timeshares) were wonderful and tragic at the same time.  Lying in the sun, feeding lettuce to iguanas, reading for pleasure…all gave me a taste of what “it” could be like.  This time, though, the end of the trip brought no additional sadness beyond missing those iguanas.  OK, some frustration at the lines for immigration and the 45 minutes it took PHL to unload the luggage, but Monday just brought a return to spin class.  Painful as that was after a week off, it was still enjoyable!

So, what will you do during your Endless Vacation phase?  Depends on your personality and your “if I only had time” list.  For me, it was taking long walks on local trails, reading for pleasure, and taking naps.  (Although I quickly learned that I was not allowed to take naps in view of Trish when she was working from home.)  For others, it might be cleaning out the garage or tackling the yard or going to see friends you haven’t seen in ages.  The key to the Endless Vacation stage is that whatever you do, you are doing it for pleasure.  While most of us need a sense of purpose at some level, that does not apply to this wondrous phase.  You will (hopefully) just do whatever you want to do.  Allow yourself this time.  You’ve earned it, darn it.  And if you jump too quickly into something too demanding, guess what?  You’ll just end up back in Detox.  A note to those of you that do end up moving into a different yet demanding responsibility after you retire, such as caring for an aging parent or taking on a consulting role or going back for another degree.  You haven’t retired; you’ve simply moved on to another job.  Your Detox and Endless Vacation will come later, maybe never if you enjoy being that busy (or are required to be that busy).  I do recognize that what I’m describing will be seen by many as a luxury.  I hope you all get to enjoy it at some point.

When do you know when Endless Vacation has come to an end?  I don’t remember exactly when this happened (and that should be a clue), but it was warm enough for me to be wearing shorts and for us to be sitting outside.  I had met a good friend from my Air Products days, along with her husband, for lunch.  They had moved out of town when she retired and were coming back to the area for a visit.  That morning, knowing that I had a real activity on my calendar, I showered early and put on “going out” khaki shorts and a real shirt.  I was excited!  I met “Mary” and “Chuck” at a favorite nearby restaurant and we had a wonderful time catching up.  We talked about retiring and how our lives had changed.  We laughed about how things that we used to fit into lunch hours or after work on the way home, had become the entire focus of a day.  As we wound up our time together and rose to say goodbye, Chuck asked me what else I was planning on doing that day.  I hesitated a second.  Then said, “I met you two for lunch!  Isn’t that enough?” 

As I drove home, exhausted by having been out for several hours and actually interacting with people, I thought to myself, “Sherri, I think you need something a little more engaging in your life.”  Endless Vacation was ending.  I was entering the realm of What Day is it?  I had been waking up in the morning not knowing what day it was because I had no schedule.  At first it was liberating.  Then it became a little frightening.  When I started Endless Vacation, I had looked forward to just sitting in one of our many reading chairs and reading for hours, meandering through the pile of books I had bought over the years and still wanted to read.  But now, an hour or so of reading is enough. Endless Vacation meant I could look forward to taking long walks every day.  But now after that long walk there was a lot of not moving and much snacking.  At the start of Endless Vacation I was able to take naps whenever I wanted!  But now I was falling asleep after going grocery shopping.  I had gotten bored.

It was time to start thinking about how I wanted my daily life to evolve.  Instead of planning for the future, I’m finally living in the present.  So, what does that look like for me?  How much of a time commitment did I want to make to something?  To an organization?  To an activity?  What could I get lost in?  What would be the output of this “something” and what would I do with it?  I honestly hadn’t given much thought to my post-full-time-work life except that I wanted to travel.  And even that raised questions:  Where?  Why?  I’m a goal oriented, outcome driven person.  What did that mean in my “retirement”?  As I noodled on these questions I tried some ideas out in “thought experiments” and rejected one after another.  Then I got a phone call that led to my first Catharsis.  We’ll pick up on that next time!