The Wisdom Blog

“Doing nothing is better than being busy doing nothing.” –Lao Tzu

Mr. Proskey was a farmer-and he was my neighbor some years back when I lived in Iowa. I met him in a panic when I banged on his front door to tell him his cows were ambling down the middle of a two lane road. I recently moved to this small farming town from the big cities of Chicago and Milwaukee where livestock lived in zoos; to my mind, cows in the street was asking for Big Trouble. Recklessly, I abandoned my car in the middle of the lane with the hazard lights flashing and made a wild eyed dash up the long driveway to Mr. Proskey’s house to give him the urgent news. When he opened the door I yelled the information to him and began to run back to the road, certain that Mr. P would be right on my heels. Instead, he held his ground in the doorway, hands on hips and grinning widely. He said to me, “Well aren’t you spunky!” When, what seemed like ages later, we finally got down to the road, the cows were gathered around my car, licking the paint off of it. I am not joking about this.

In any given moment, especially when all hell breaks loose, the only thing you can do may also be the wisest thing to do. This often means that doing nothing, at least for a little while, is often the answer. Some people might think that “doing nothing” is inappropriately passive and well, wimpy. This is because we are wired to react and act out our habits and emotional patterns that may or may not be useful but that fit us like a weary but oh so comfortable pair of shoes. Resisting the urge to react is what makes “doing nothing” so challenging for most of us.

The wise people I’ve talked with tend to look at each fresh crisis with interest as opposed to judgment. They are less likely to see trouble as catastrophes and are more likely to say things like “well isn’t that interesting” or “aren’t you spunky.” Perhaps they would go so far as to allow they are in a “fine kettle of fish.” But they often do nothing, at least for a little while. When they do take action, it usually results in a good outcome with concern for others as well as for themselves.

What would it feel like for you to actually have the strength to do nothing when what you really want to do is react? What strategies could you employ to get better at this? Here are some wise ways to give this a try (notice that “doing nothing” is actually quite active):

1. Take a couple of breaths. Look at the bigger picture in addition to the scene right in front of you. Actually say out loud: “Well isn’t that interesting.”

2. Count to 10, which will give you a chance to reroute your emotional response back to the thinking part of your brain where a dose of rational thinking can be injected into the mix.

3. Ask yourself if your typical reaction will be good for you and for others in the long run. If it isn’t, count to 10 and then think of another option.

4. Consider what would be the exact opposite of your usual reaction and try that first. See what happens.

5. Choose to be a leader in the situation. In other words, step up and resonate a demeanor that allows everyone else to be their best in the situation.

Give this a try and share your story! I love learning how wisdom works in your life.

Best Always,
Elle
Founder of Wisdom Out

“Don’t underestimate the value of doing nothing, of just going along listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.” –Winnie the Pooh

Acceptance without strings attached, enhances romantic relationships. It is tempting to say, “Duh.” But why then, do so many people who are great in other areas of their life struggle in romantic relationships?

In this month’s Wisdom Out Newsletter, I wrote about the value of “understanding” over “knowing” one’s romantic partner. When I talked with couples about this, they sorted out some of the terminology, equating “understanding” with acceptance and “knowing” with an intent to have rational justification for whatever the other person says, believes, or wants.

Like a lot of people, I’ve had some great relationships. Still, it is no mistake that I find myself studying the nature of wisdom in love and relationships. I’ve certainly been gullible and naive, if not completely foolish at times. One relationship I had was with someone who relentlessly badgered me to explain myself. And of course, he disagreed with most of what I offered. How, I would wonder, can he disagree with the way I feel (of course I never wondered this out loud as it would trigger a haranguing)?

I have to wonder if I’ve behaved this way myself. Dr. Brenda Shoshanna (author of Zen and the Art of Falling in Love) once told me that if I find myself asking the same question, hoping to get a different answer (read as “hoping to get the answer I want”), it probably means I’m not accepting the other person. Now that’s a visible indicator that any one of us can monitor. But isn’t it helpful to know why the person is the way they are? Wouldn’t knowing this aid understanding? Maybe couples grill each other more rigorously than a trial lawyer because they are afraid the other person will see them as a doormat if they don’t. Fear of what might happen is never a good reason to do anything, much less diminish the person you love.

In his autobiography, Vincent Van Gogh wrote to his brother, “I wish they would only take me as I am.” Even in a person as gifted as Van Gogh, the ubiquitous longing for acceptance may be the way we test who will go the distance with us as we realize our dreams and uncover our greatness. Knowing that acceptance also improves our relationships is a compelling enough reason to give it a try.

Wisdom sees the best in others.

Tell me what you think about these ideas. I’m interested in learning from you.
Best Always,
Elle
www.wisdomout.com

It is easy to judge a decision as being wise after the fact, when the outcome and impact is visible. But is there a way to mindfully make wise decisions? I really believe there is. Here are the principles that seem to be operating in the process of wise decision making, as gleaned from my wisdom research and interviews with identified wise people:

When making decisions, wise people…
• …consider options that meet the needs of other people- not just themselves (although they ALSO think of their needs-it is not a zero sum game).
• …consult a few key advisors, friends, mentors (they don’t consult every Tom, Dick and Harry).
• …choose learning and change over comfort (many of their decisions will demand they learn something new or move into uncharted territory).
• …”listen” for the answer which ultimately comes from within.
• …are drawn to options that feel “positive”.
• …resist nostalgia and the pull of the past (they look forward and can be far sighted).
• …execute quietly and without regret.

What are the wise decisions you’ve made in your lifetime so far? As you look back on these decisions, what was your process? Please share! Lets illuminate the process of wise decision making together.

Best always,
Elle
www.wisdomout.com
elle@wisdomout.com

Teresa McCoy is a member of the Cherokee Nation living in Cherokee, NC. When I interviewed her for Wisdom Out, and asked her to speak about love, she told me something that continues to have a ripple effect in my life. She said, “You must get up every morning and forgive yourself for anything that might be bothering you. That negative feeling will be replaced by love for your community, family, nation–it all starts with love for yourself.”

Honestly, at least once a day, I struggle to grasp and hang on to the comforting yet challenging wisdom in Teresa’s words. Sometimes I have complete clarity and other times I feel lost and I lose sight of their simple meaning. I’ve come to understand this much: What we can’t forgive ourselves for takes up space inside of us. When we forgive ourselves every day, we make space for love-perhaps even for love that redeems the very transgression we refuse to forgive ourselves for. It also seems to me that when we forgive ourselves every single day, we learn how to forgive others. After all, if we can flex our forgiveness muscle by practicing on ourselves each day, we will most likely get better at forgiving others. Or, vice-versa (since some people are better at forgiving others than they are themselves).

Here is another thought: Does self-forgiveness make you more “love able”? In other words, if you don’t forgive yourself for whatever is bothering you, does this also make you at some level, unworthy of love?

What do you think about this? What is the relationship between the wisdom in self-forgiveness and your capacity to love? Discuss, share, learn.

Best to All,
Elle

A very wise friend and I were laughing about how we succumb, once in a while, to climbing up the “ladder of assumptions” (Senge, 1994). This is an invisible process that occurs between your ears, in your sometimes addled brain. At its most troublesome, making inferences in the absence of rational evidence, looks a bit like paranoia. Here is a real example from someone I coached a few years ago: It is 10:00 PM at night and you notice that your resume has disappeared from the company website. It happens to be performance appraisal time, and you immediately suspect that your boss has already decided to let you go, and someone in the tech department heard about that, and took your resume down while he was doing the latest round of website revisions. You fret all night, and do not sleep a wink. Instead, you plan what you are going to say in your defense, come morning.

Thankfully, while driving into the office, a little wise voice inside of you suggests that your resume was accidently taken off the website. In spite of a lack of sleep, you sheepishly have to admit that you might have jumped up the ladder of inference and are mighty far from using all the information available to you to reframe the situation and consider different possibilities. And in fact, when you simply inquire about your resume, you learn that yours, as well as those of several colleagues, were mistakenly removed. Your resume was back up on the website within the hour.

The wisdom in this story is seen in the unique mixture of emotional management, experience, rational thought, and maybe even a bit of a sense of humor. We see wisdom in the outcome. We also see wisdom in the reflective process that mitigates pure emotional reaction. Engaging in these thinking processes when confronted with the “small stuff” flexes your wisdom muscle and prepares you to use wisdom when the “big stuff” hits.

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Just last month the Harvard MBA program asked students and alumni to sign an oath that pledges they will use their management skills and knowledge to serve the greater good. Billions of business people already operate this way - in fact I interview many of them for my wisdom work and Doug Reeves and I interview many others for our field work for a book we are writing on individual and organization renewal (www.renewalcoaching.com). Social entrepreneurs have always had the greater good built into their bottom line - as Paul Hawkins writes in his terrific book, Blessed Unrest. And Angel Cabrera from Thunderbird Business School in Phoenix (http://knowledgenetwork.thunderbird.edu/cabrera/) urges his business students to consider the greater good. Heck, smart marketers know that concern for the greater good, in both business processes and outcomes, is a terrific branding strategy. People like to spend their money with companies that are connected to the good of the planet, people, and profit.

In light of these remarkable conversations about the greater good already in progress, I can understand why the oath from Harvard ruffles a few feathers. But I see it this way: The greater good is so important, that society needs a multi-prong approach to bring more people into the conversation. We need wide and varied sources talking about it and bringing it to the forefront. Harvard has impressive global authority - which brought media attention to the concept of the “greater good” and got more people talking about it.

As we emerge from the current bleak economic reality, I predict we will see many more new entrepreneurs willing to take the risks that come from working for yourself in exchange for a greater sense of independence. Combine this with the terrific energy coming from Generation Y - who are idealists and know how to use social media to generate innovative solutions as well as huge amounts of money, and we have not only hope, but action.
The greater good IS good business, and here is the incredible bonus: concern for the greater good has always been the work of the wise. The way I see it, not only is conversation about the greater good, good for business and good for others, it is good for the development of wisdom in the world. Lets keep talking about it.

*** *** *** The seed for what is now known as the Next of Kin Registry (NOKR) was planted years ago when Mark Cerney’s childhood caretaker, MiMi passed away while Mark was on his honeymoon. MiMi was in a care center at the time, where Mark visited her every weekend. Most of the staff there knew him by name, but no one thought to call him when she died. Mark began to wonder; with all the great technology we have, surely there must be a way to prevent this tragedy for others. Mark says, “Everyone deserves dignity—the homeless, kids on the street—someone needs to be notified if they are injured or deceased.” *** *** ***

Wisdom is seen in people like Mark Cerney, who not only face life’s losses and adversities but who work with them and transform them into something quite special. This pattern of transformation is common enough to those who have been nominated to Wisdom Out, that I’ve come to understand that redemption of loss for a greater good must be part of the definition of wisdom. I also see a healthy dose of what we’ve come to know as emotional intelligence, a term coined by Daniel Goleman in 1995. Emotional intelligence is the ability to recognize, moderate and use emotions in oneself and others to effectively navigate work and life. Wisdom and emotional intelligence are not one and the same. But it is hard to imagine a wise person without emotional intelligence. As Wisdom Maker Andy Reeves observes, “Wisdom is about being above the fray.”

So, I offer you this new definition of wisdom:
Wisdom is a way of thinking and being that merges rational thinking, emotional intelligence, intuition and experience to empower people to respond elegantly to important matters of life and redeem life defining loss in exchange for a greater good.

What are your thoughts? What are the redemptive stories in your life? Go ahead and add your two cents. Thanks much, Elle

“To my extreme mortification I grow wiser every day” –Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
English letter author & poet (1689 - 1762)

Warning: What follows is a description of a tedious pet peeve—insignificant in every way except for how irritated I allow it to make me. I tell it to make a point.

Few things in daily life are as painful to me as being a passenger on an airplane during disembarkment, lets say anywhere back of row seven in the main cabin of a medium sized jet. I usually am in a window seat, which provides the positive effect of countering closterphobia during the flight (opening up the whole sky to me as it does, with just a turn of my head) but extracts a dear price when the plane lands. During disembarkment I am trapped, at the mercy of whatever number of people are in the seats next to me and in the rows ahead of me. Why can’t people get off an airplane in an efficient and timely manner? They have the entire flight to formulate a plan for getting off the plane when it lands. They do know they will eventually have to leave the plane, do they not? As a bonified frequent flyer, I can tell you that many passengers appear caught off guard when it is their turn to get off the plane. “What?” They seem to ask when those behind them in the aisle gesture that it is their turn to leave their seat. “You mean I need to get off the plane now?” Then and only then are paperbacks stuffed into pockets and purses, bags retrieved from under seats, suitcases lugged down from overhead containers, and coats shrugged into. Unbelievable! I want to yell out as I watch them, mindful of the ticking clock and the minutes between now and my connecting flight. I am not proud of any of this.

Wisdom is known to show itself during times of adversity. But sometimes adversity masquerades as the mundane irritations of daily life. These irritations may not present profound life changing opportunities, but they challenge us nevertheless. We certainly can behave quite foolishly in response to them, and this response can become a habit that robs joy from our day. Maybe these irritants come to us to give us the chance to flex and strengthen our wisdom muscles. Wisdom Maker Lisa Foley says, “Every small choice prepares you for the larger choices.” Lisa knows wisdom responds to the small trials in life with the same perspective it does to life’s larger challenges. She pays attention to these opportunities, recognizing them for what they are and responding to them as if it mattered—because it does.

A fellow frequent flyer once confided that although he loves his work, he despises the travel portion of his job. He used to let it get to him, to the point where he became physically ill at the thought of the travel ordeal that accompanied every business trip. Finally, exasperated with his complaining, this man’s wife told him “You have to love it all.” Now, that is practical wisdom for the 21st Century!

Where in your life do little trails and adversities appear, giving you a chance to flex your wisdom muscle? How do you respond? What have you learned from the small things, that help you respond to the larger losses and adversities in life?

Several years ago while watching the Oprah show I was moved by a guest who was sharing his personal story of transformation. His name was Bud Welsh and he was the father of Julie, a young woman who was killed when Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols bombed the Murrah Federal Building in Okalahoma City.

Bud was describing his journey from angry father seeking revenge to activist working tirelessly against the death penalty. His transformation was neither easy nor clear. For about eight months after the death of his daughter, Bud was consumed by his loss, withdrawing from family and friends and turning to alcohol to numb his pain. But then while watching the news on TV one night, he saw footage of Bill McVeigh, father of Timothy McVeigh, working in his garden. For several seconds Mr. McVeigh looked directly into the camera and in his stooped shoulders and gaze, Bud recognized the pain of a father with a child in peril. Bud’s heart stirred in that moment and he got back in touch with a long held belief, shared by his daughter Julie, that the death penalty was unproductive and added only more pain to the world. Bud began to speak out against the death penalty in general and specifically related to Timothy McVeigh. He went to New York and met with Bill McVeigh. For the first half hour of their meeting, they worked side by side in McVeigh’s garden, and as Bud Welsh told the story to Oprah, it struck me that these two men had literally found common ground. In an interview with a Florida newspaper (St. Petersburg Times, 2001), Bud Welch says he has never felt closer to God than he did the day he met Timothy McVeigh’s father. He believes that with compassion and forgiveness comes healing.

Around the same time that I saw this particular Oprah show I was beginning a journey of my own—that of learning about wisdom—the topic I was drawn to in my doctoral studies in Organizational Learning at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque. In my readings I consistently found references to the tight relationship wisdom seems to have with loss. I began to realize that where there is wisdom, loss is lurking close by.

What could account for the transformation in Bud Welch? How do we explain the journey of a person from the depths of despair to compassionate activism that transforms the lives of others and does “good” in the world? Why does one person respond to adversity and loss by transforming themselves or the environment in positive ways, while others respond to similar loss with despair, permanent anger and bitterness? Could the human characteristic we know as wisdom be the answer? If wisdom is a potential in all of us, what activates or depresses its energy? What can we do to facilitate wisdom’s growth?

(reference: Aschoff, S. (2001). Vengence and forgiveness after Oklahoma city. In St. Petersburg Times, April 15, 2001. St. Petersburg, FL.)