Hating Salmon and Lemon Squares

“He hates Salmon.”

“He hates Lemon Squares.”

“He is grumpy if he doesn’t eat.”

“He is grumpy if woken from a nap.”

“He [insert event, either one time or a repeated event that happened, and form a hard-wired rule about the person despite the passage of time, even years].”

There was a time when I didn’t really like eating salmon. You know the poached (was it boiled?) kind smothered in a creamy sauce with dill.

Rule #1: Carl hates salmon.

There was a time when desserts in general were not my favorite, I am more of a savory person, and since periodically I may be training for something or trying to lose weight, sweets of any kind are not my friend.

Rule #2: Carl hates lemon squares.

Years later, the remnants of those rules still appear. People are surprised when I eat Salmon (grilled and savory is my favorite) or take a bite of a lemon square.

The preferences at that moment were not meant to create a hard-wired rule.

The preferences were a snapshot in time.

But, times change.

And people change.

We think we know them.

We think they are the same.

We think we had it right.

How many times have these hard-wired rules created obstacles between us?

How many times have these snapshots been held up as a representation of us?

Be careful of the hard-wired rule trap.

You have changed, and so have the people around you.

P.S. I am also not always grumpy because I am hungry or when I wake from a nap, sometimes I am just grumpy.

Work Life Separation

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We get a quick note on the weekend.

“Sorry to bug you about work on a weekend, but I need…”

Or a text late at night.

“Hey, sorry, I know it is late, but can you send along…”

And there was an email early in the morning.

“Sorry, this is last-minute, but can you give us a call right away…”

These requests were simple. They took just a few moments of our time.

We enjoyed being able to respond. It didn’t even feel like work.

There was a time when we thought we needed work life separation.

There was a time when we thought this divide was important.

There was a time when work felt like work.

Over the past few years the work life separation wall has slowly been dismantled.

Brick by brick, the need to be distinct and have boundaries has faded away.

The work life separation wall has become a smeary, messy, blended tapestry.

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When our work, and life is about helping others, both happen at interesting hours, times, and moments.

It doesn’t feel like work. It isn’t distinct from our life. It just is.

We live and work at weird hours when there is a need. There are no office hours.

We aren’t counting the days until we retire. We just live.

We live and work in various locations, and at various times.

We meet the needs around us throughout our entire journey.

There is no longer a need for the work life separation.

The absence of that artificial barrier sets us free.

 

The Illogical Path

We get jobs. We work in a particular field.

We move on, either by our choice or others.

We are faced with a choice.

We can follow the logical path. Stay in or close to our field. Connect with our network. Find something similar.

Or

We can follow the illogical path. Try something radical. Move outside of comfort. Apply the lessons and skills from one industry to another. Go work for ourselves.

During a recent breakfast discussion, as I listened to the plan for the new career, the new job, the new approach, and most of it was on the logical path.

They know people, they have experience, so they keep following the logical path.

It made sense. I kept listening.

“It all makes sense to me. But (pause) what if you spent 25% of the time you are planning to spend down the logical path in a different direction? What if you scheduled one-quarter of this effort down the illogical path?”

Throughout the rest of the conversation, it was fun to notice their body language and tone of voice. Whenever they spoke of something on the illogical path, they lit up. They leaned in, they were excited.

I shared a story about a close friend who is a writer. For most of their career, they found jobs writing. It was the logical path.

But the logical path, the seemingly safe choice, had its price. They were not very satisfied.

The writer friend recently followed the illogical path. They now have this weird hard-to-describe job that is cool, challenging, and new (frankly this job sounds super-spy like so I like to pretend that I am meeting with a spy when we have breakfast).

Which path are you following?

Sometimes the illogical path may be worth taking.

New Patterns, New Memories

Getting together with people, especially with those who are close, is not always easy.

Logistics. What time, where, who, and what?

Dynamics. The past, the incident, that time, and those words.

Expectations. The food, the venue, the relationships, and the activities.

Patterns. When to eat, what to do, and how you interact.

Memories. Good, bad, stressful, and past.

These various categories cause an interesting dynamic when trying to connect with others. When these categories are associated with past stressful get-togethers, the days before you see these people again can be filled with stress and pressure.

This stress and pressure can hijack the present event by overwhelming you before you even arrive.

But, what if you could shift the pattern?

What if you tried a new approach?

I am lucky to be part of a group that is experimenting with a new pattern. 

Instead of crashing after a meal, we go for a walk (and talk).

Instead of huddling around the TV, we are playing fun and weird games.

Instead of large group discussions, we are making time to connect and catch up individually.

A new pattern is forming.

New memories are replacing the old.

Good Patterns. Good Memories.

It is awkward at first? Oh yeah, but totally worth it.

Back to Weird

We are all a little weird.

We have weird little hang-ups, issues, perspectives, routines, methods, ideas, or mannerisms.

We see the world in a different way that feels weird to the average person.

We were told to try to be more normal. To go with the crowd.

We were compared to the average.

We were encouraged to be more like someone else.

We stopped doing that weird thing.

We stopped having those weird ideas.

We stopped that weird belief that we could make a difference, make an impact, make the world a better place.

Sometimes we get shaken up.

Something happens to shift our world.

We start to long for our lives to return to normal.

Sometimes normal feels like the easy or safe option.

Am I trying to get back to normal?

Nope, back to weird.

The Attempted Compliment

Sometimes we become hardened towards those around us, even our customers.

Prior interactions, prior conflicts, or prior assumptions cloud our current view.

They complained, they were unhappy, they were…[insert specifics here].

Now we see them and the world through a tainted lens.

I heard a story the other day.

A customer complained. They needed some assistance. They needed something corrected.

A small team was mobilized to respond.

This team was on-site to solve the issue.

The customer approached this team at the end.

The customer began to speak.

The team responded first.

“Are you here to complain again, about something else?”

But, the customer was not there to complain.

The customer was attempting to compliment the response, the team, and the work.

The attempted compliment was shut down before it could happen.

Hardness had set in.

Where have we become hardened?

Where have we missed the attempted compliments?

Take a moment today and think about what you are holding onto, and against others (including your customers), that may be getting in the way of what they deserve.