Day 273 of The 365 Day Experiment. Don't F*ck With Me.

My normal state is fairly calm and collected.  I have an incredibly long fuse.  It takes a huge amount to drive me to my breaking point.  However, when you do, I am done.  And while it sounds exceptionally aggressive, I call it my "don't f*ck with me" moment.  A very few people have brought me to that point in my lifetime.  

Over the last 75% of a year, I have shared stories of my generally positive outlook on life.  How I am able to see the glass half full in even the most dirty of glasses.  But every few years, something or someone will put me over the edge.  It takes an awful lot to get me there.  When I get there however, I don't turn back.  I'm done. 

I do not believe in revenge.  I do not believe in being mean-spirited.  What I do believe in, however, I standing up for myself.  And while I live my life doing my best to be a generally warm-hearted person, those efforts should not be mistaken for weakness.  You will learn, if you are the one to "f*ck with me," just how strong I really am.  

So what happens in this scenario? Nothing visibly dramatic. Nothing overtly tangible.  But you will feel it down deep in your gut.  

I turn off the switch in my soul to you.  

I will always be civil.  I will always be appropriate.  I'll even be friendly if the situation dictates that.  But you have lost me on your team.  And maybe you don't care about that.  But you should.  When I am on your team, and we are close, I am probably one of your biggest cheerleaders.  I do whatever I can do to support you. I have your back.  

I typically have a lot of people's backs. And I do that, and I tell these people that, because I think it's really, really important to know who is on your team. And I believe and support many really fantastic people.  And when you lose my support, I guarantee you will feel the void.  

I am not aggressive by nature.  I am assertive, but not aggressive. I don't seek to hurt anyone, and I hate being hurt by others.  And yet I recklessly set myself up to be hurt easily because I spread my support and care around widely.  Stupidly, I believe that if I do it to others, it will karmically come back to me.  Not always.  And I certainly learned how not to expect it. 

So don't f*ck with me, please.  Life is too short to waste time on drama and jerks.  I'd rather just spend it backing the people who deserve the support - and hope they cheer me on as well.  

Da7 272 of The 365 Day Experiment. I Miss Steve Jobs.

This rainy weekend, I spent much of it with my daughters, doing things like  I did when I was there age.  We hit the mall for some spring shopping yesterday, and then went to a movie with friends.  And there was one theme that seemed to remain constant throughout.  What's old is new again.  And I'm not sure that's a good thing. 

First up, a visit to clothing store Forever 21.  It was fairly horrifying.  The entire store was filled with retro '80's clothes.  There was neon, high waisted pants, and acid washed jeans.  Everywhere we turned, there was something more tacky to look at.  My daughters cracked up when held up a pair of denim overall shorts and said, "did girls actually wear those?!"  Yes, they did.  Thankfully, your mom didn't.  She was too busy rockin' turquoise leopard skin pants when her parents weren't paying attention.  And Guess jeans when they were.

And then today's movie was another throwback to my youth; "The Muppets Most Wanted."  I loved the Muppets when I was in fourth grade, and I can understand why they continue to have appeal.  Jim Henson was certainly an innovator, but it's been a long time since the novelty of the talking puppets came to life with such imagination.  Even in the opening song, the characters mocked the movie by singing about how sequels are never as good as the original.  They weren't kidding.

And as we drove home, it made me miss Steve Jobs.  I know that sounds rather insane and random.  I missed him, because I had spent my weekend looking at a bunch of throwback crap recycled from decades before.  What was once interesting and unique is resurfacing again, being wheeled out for a new generation.  I'll argue it's not better, or reinvented, or updated in anyway to make it fresh.  It just appears like people have run out of ideas. 

So it made me miss Steve Jobs and his brilliant mind.  I miss knowing there was someone in this country who had an insane ability to never stop imagining what would come next for us.  And even when we said, "why the hell would we even need that?!" (as I did when I first learned of the iPad) he knew we did.  Steve Jobs would never be filling Apple Stores with crap he designed in the 80s or re-release a Pixar movie because his team failed to come up with another amazing idea. 

I have acknowledged that I enjoy looking forward rather than looking back.  However, I will always appreciate a good vintage anything.  There are plenty of great movies that have stood the test of time that I love re-watching.  I have a few pieces of clothing from high school and college I still have because I'd rather my girls have real "vintage" clothes from that crazy era than see them in pictures.  But when I see things from days long ago resurface because it appears there is a dearth of creative ideas left in the world, that makes me incredibly sad.  Enough Muppets, Smurfs, My Little Ponies and Cabbage Patch Kids.  And certainly enough 80's clothes.  This country used to be known for our ingenuity and innovation.  I know we still have it.  And I wish we had used it to figure out a way to keep Steve Jobs alive.  

We are better than this crap we are putting out there.  When did our bar get so low?  

Rant over. 

Day 271 of The 365 Day Experiment. The Toolbox.

My kids are at the age when everyone is worried about being cool. It's no different when we were in school.  Some kids come by their cool naturally.  Some work really hard at it.  Some hard and never achieve it.  And some just don't care. They embrace their inner weirdness and live authentically. 

It is cool to be yourself.  Every single one of us has quirks and idiosyncrasies that make us, us.  And sometimes, we do everything possible to prevent people from from learning that part of us.  Why?  It's the piece of us that makes us authentic.  

When you hide what makes you you, you censor what makes you unique. And perhaps that offers some comfort, being able to conform to the norm, or what's known to be acceptable.  But seriously.  How f'ing boring.

When I was in middle school, my girlfriends and I called each other at night to plan our outfits for the next day.  It was so important to us that we wear the same "heart" turtleneck, or Fair Isle sweater (yup, there was a brief period of time when I was a little preppy. Yes, that makes me laugh too.)  It would have been scary to do something totally different.  No one wanted to risk being "uncool."  And then, magically, I grew up and thought I was uncool for following the herd. 

I stopped worrying about fitting in, and I started thinking about being me.  And then I never looked back.  

I feel bad for the kids in today's schools, trying to find their way.  My kids use similar adjectives to describe some of the kids in their classes that my friends and I did back in the day.  A "dork" or "tool" thirty years ago is the same thing today.  I am not a big fan of labeling kids this way, and yet, it's reality.  Sometimes, when you stand out and embrace your own reality, you set yourself up for ridicule or misunderstanding.  And I hope these kids band together in their own "toolbox."  If you think about, every single one of us has some wrench or hammer in us.  Some of us just hide it better than others or make it appear less awkward. 

So for those of us, young and old, who spend time worried about fitting in and being cool, consider the following: not everyone is always going to understand you, and for certain not everyone will always embrace you.  Who cares?  Hold your head high, smile, and don't apologize for being you.

Think tool, not cool. At the end of the day, having the personal integrity to yourself is the ultimate cool.  

*Note:  My kids just told me if I were a tool, I'd be a hammer.  That made me laugh for a number of reasons. I would have picked the same thing. 

Day 270 of The 365 Day Experiment. Escape.

Three fires hit close to home this week.  They all hit me in different ways.  And they drove me to the word “escape.”

The first was a nine alarm fire that occurred in my old Back Bay neighborhood earlier this week.  It took the life of two young firefighters, and injured several more.  This saddened me deeply.  This fire affected the revered fire department at Engine 33, Ladder 15 on Boylston Street; the same team who responded to last years Boston Marathon bombing, But what really struck me was that these guys were young fathers.  They sacrificed their lives to save others.  They are the ones who truly run in when we run out.  They allow us to escape while ultimately putting their own ability not to escape in peril.

The second fire took place in the wee hours of this morning in a triple decker house in Somerville.  One of my co-workers, a lovely young manager beloved by my company, was awaked to learn her apartment was on fire.  Three alarms later, total devastation.  Mercifully, everyone was unharmed.  Unfortunately, all physical property was a total loss. 

This hit me hard when I was informed of the news by her director just before seven am.  So one of our mutual friends and I went into brainstorming mode about how to help.  And what I love about this company was put on full display today.  We posted a website powered by “gofundme.com” asking for aid for a fellow Moose.   We set of goal of $4,500, reaching big, believing if we have 450 people, we can reach that with our peoples known generosity.  Did we ever.  We crushed that goal in 15 minutes flat.  And at last look, we were up to $18,000+ and counting.  I have never been prouder of working at a company than I was today.  Not because we just raised money for someone.  I am proud because we are at the end of a quarter.  Everyone is crazy busy.  And yet, in a time of need, everyone immediately stopped what they were doing to help a teammate.  Many don’t know her well.  Some sent the link out to their own social networks to drive more traffic.  Everyone had her back.  At this company, we call that “One Moose.”  That weird phrase comes from that notion that the singular of the word moose is moose.  The plural of the word moose is also moose.  Together, we are all “one moose.”  Today, without question, this Rapid7 team was truly “One Moose.”

And then just as I was preparing to send the email to the company to help our friend, I got a call that our Cambridge office was on fire.  It was followed by a fairly entertaining email that only a very to-the-point engineer could send, subject line reading, “Cambridge Office Is On Fire.”  Thankfully, everyone was okay, and there was no real damage and our space is unscathed. 

Escape, however, is on the brain.  Not just the physical escape from a fire, which frankly I feel like I need to go home and think about this weekend.  As in, if my house went up in flames, would I have ready access to run out the door with a tiny bag of necessities immediately.  It’s also left me feeling about wanting to escape in general.  

I think I might be wired more like a firefighter than escapee from a prison.  I run into the trouble, rather than away from it.  The escape might provide temporary relief from the situation causing the trouble, but I would not be able to live with myself knowing I ran.  Those who know me well know this.  I am not conflict averse.  While I hate to be in conflict, I will not avoid it.  If there is strife, I will seek to address and fix it.  In my world, problems are just interesting puzzles meant to be solved; they are not left to fester to smolder and finally ignite into a burst of flames.

I am one of those incredibly grateful to our real firefighters who serve us.  They are incredible, true heroes who make me proud to believe in the good of humanity.  And while I can never imagine the bravery they hold to do what they do, I think I understand a little bit about how they are wired.  

I am so happy that all of my colleagues escaped to safety over the last two days.  But you won’t be seeing me escape to much of anything anytime in the near future.  You can find me here, running straight into own emotional  flames, on a daily basis.  At least for another 94 days. 

Day 269 of The 365 Day Experiment. How Relevant Am I?

Two or three summers ago my father and I were in a boat at the Cape, cruising along with my kids.  We were chatting about life, and at some point along the journey, I asked him why he had started taking his painting so seriously.  Over the course of a few short years my Renaissance man father had literally gone from never having picked up a paint brush to having become talented enough to have his works featured in shows and galleries.  That accomplishment in and of itself is impressive.  What impressed me more, however, is my dad's desire to not be a one-trick pony.  He had already been an incredibly accomplished business leader; one successful enough to retire very early.  He's not the guy to spend his later years at the golf course every day though.  His answer to my question was simply, "I paint to stay relevant."

And I totally understood what he meant.

Something we all face in life are ebbs and flows.  I have yet to meet a person in my life - even the most successful among us - who have not hit periods when they aren't at their most productive/creative/efficient…insert your own word.  I personally have had moments in my career when I feel like I am on fire.  Each team I own is hyper-productive.  I am being published and receiving validation for my ideas and innovations.  People in the companies I work for are motivated, engaged, and thriving.  And then things change.  The dynamics shift so that I can no longer influence or we are acquired or I just say "I'm done and it's time for a new challenge."  And then, for that period of time, I am no longer feeling relevant. 

How true is that in today's world?  We are shifting and changing at lightening speed.  Social media and technology have caused people to move from a more focused way of living and thinking to a "Look!  Squirrel!"  model.  And that leaves all of us being only as good as our last accomplishment. 

Lady Gaga became one of the biggest things in the world when she hit the music scene in 2008.  She didn't just dominate with her music; she changed the game with her fashion and fearless approach.  

For a period of several years, it was hard not to find coverage of her latest outfit or antic, or find a hit of hers playing on the radio.  And then it began to fizzle. 

It is hard to continue to reinvent yourself when the bar of being unique is that high.  You begin to be bizarre just to be bizarre.  It appeared her choices were more about making a statement and less about producing great music.  She has become, in my humble opinion, a hell of a lot less relevant than she was just two short years ago.

I share that desire with my dad.  That high bar to want to continue to reach for more; to stay relevant with whatever is important within our own worlds.  Fortunately, I have been able to create and morph enough within my own career to stay relevant even though I've been at it for a long while.  I'm assuming that probably has something to do with never wanting to do the same thing twice, or repeating what I've done at other companies.  Perhaps I'll apply lessons learned, but I'll always up that bar on myself for the good of the company.  

I'll assume, however, at some point, I won't be so relevant anymore.  Maybe I will just get too old for the young people I work with to listen to me.  Or maybe I'll just run out of creative ideas.  Or maybe I'll just say, "I'm done.  I need to go be relevant doing something else."

I'll admit, I don't have a great answer to this.  I think what I offer to my daughters is pretty relevant to their place in life right now.  They may not think so in another year or two.  And I believe I still have some decent relevance at work too.  A text my boss just sent me gives me the ego boost for the night to reinforce that thought.  And I'm learning that even doing this Experiment might have some relevance to some.  While it's always been just for me, I'd be lying if I didn't say it doesn't feel good when someone connects and says "Wow…Day X really resonated with me.  I've gone through something similar and I never would have had the courage to put it out there."

I think it's something for all of us to ponder in our lives though.  What is your relevance?  As Oliver Wendall Holmes once said, "We don't quit playing because we get old.  We get old because we quit playing."  The trick to staying relevant is to never stop playing.

Game on.

Day 268 of The 365 Day Experiment. Let It Go.

My daughters have been singing the song “Let It Go” made famous in the animated movie “Frozen” for the past several weeks.  I had not paid much attention to it until I actually heard Idina Menzel sing it as an nominated song on Oscar night.  At first I was laughing because John Travolta had just butchered this poor woman’s name so badly while introducing her to the world.  Then I took notice because she sings it SOOOO much better than my daughters. (No offense to them, but I’m just keeping it real.)  The thing that really stuck, however, was the song title.

Unlike many of my friends, I’m not a massive fan of Disney.  I think I’m a little too cynical for their magical outlook.  But I give credit where credit is due.  While the lyrics of this song didn’t land with me, the title sure did.  I feel like if there is one skill I have mastered over the past decade, it is the art of “letting it go”.

For me, this speaks to not holding grudges.  The only thing I dislike more than feeling angry or upset about something is for that feeling to be lasting.  I wasn’t exaggerating when I wrote earlier in the week about being in a funk one night and waking up in a completely better frame of mind.  If I don’t flip that mental switch, I feel like I am cheating myself out of positive days.  And holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.  (Those are Buddha’s words, not mine.)

There are a number of people in the world who have disappointed me, angered me, or in some way irritated me to no end.  When I was younger, I invested emotional energy in getting angry, or getting sad.  I’d let their actions dictate my mood or my own actions.  Thankfully, I grew up.  I realize now I cannot control other people.  I can only control myself.  

So I let it go.  I let it all go.  If someone wrongs me on a small level, I let it go completely.  If it affects my way of operating, I address it head on and then let it go.  Like the person who critiqued my arrows on the Powerpoint…rather than be angry or just think “what a total ass,” I just pulled him aside and we had a direct conversation.  Guess what?  It was super productive.  I got more insight on what drives that behavior in him, and he got a better understanding about how I work and think.  It brought us closer as colleagues.  

If you really, really wrong me however, I’ll still let it go.  But I won’t forget.  And our relationship will probably take some sort of hit.  If it matters to you, you will work hard to regain my friendship or trust.  I’ve found over the years most people find it easier to just walk away than rebuild.  That really bums me out.  I think this is the case because if I hurt someone I cared about, I’d do everything I could to let them know how much I respect them and how sorry I was.  

I sleep better at night knowing I’m not worried about revenge, or waste energy spending time wondering why x person did y thing.  It typically has absolutely nothing to do with me, even if it does affect me in some way.  People are human.  They are flawed.  I piss people off too, and almost always, it is not my intention to do so.  I ask for forgiveness when I realize what I’ve done, because I actually try to learn from that mistake and not do it again.   

This is probably why me, the lover of people, has become decidedly more “transactional” with regards to people in my life.  I never know who is going to come, and who is going to go.  I have had to fire some of my closest friends from their jobs.  I never had the chance to say goodbye to my best friend who up and disappeared from my life after nearly two decades of friendship.  And I had to part ways with a love after 18 years of togetherness.  I am grateful I can love big and I can say goodbye easier now.  And I have just plain had to get better at letting it go.

Day 267 of The 365 Day Experiment. Poison Arrows.

I went to bed last night with in a funk.  It doesn’t happen often, so I’m okay when it does happen.  And fortunately, I’ve got a switch.  I don’t stay down long…if I go to bed mad or sad, I am able to wake up with a different perspective and attitude.  And true to form, I woke up today in a good mood.  And I stayed that way until I got to work.

And then something happened that triggered me in a way that pissed me off in a way that I haven’t been that irritated at work in I can’t remember how long.  And it was over arrows.

Not real arrows.  Powerpoint arrows.  

We have a monthly meeting where heads of our business units get together to discuss our progress against our goals.  Nothing novel here; it’s a smart business practice most companies do.   And though I can be rather unconventional at work, I play by the big picture rules.  I follow the templates provided.  My slides are always completed on time.  Today, however, I was critiqued on my ability to shade my directional arrows correctly.  And that didn’t sit well.

It didn’t sit well not because I am not willing to take feedback.  I am more than open to feedback on general content or overall quality of my material.  I’m typically open to just about anything.  But nitpicking or micromanaging me on small details?  You are going to get a reaction.  Why?  One big reason.

I focus on the big picture, not the tiny pixels.  That can be seen in almost every post of this Experiment as an example.  While I do my best, I am ultimately more concerned with what I am writing about, not the inevitable misspelled word or grammatical error that shows up.  

I suppose I also really have a hard time with people sweating the small stuff.  Especially when you are sweating my small stuff for me.  Worry about your own stuff and get out of my business.  Please. 

Sometimes “small stuff” really is important.  Like when I visit my neurologist every few months and she charts my pain logs over the past ten years.  Watching it go up or down a point is meaningful.  Or pushing my daughters to study that extra few minutes and watch their test scores go up a whole grade point from the last test.  Or if the driver on the highway coming down the road at night has had that one extra drink that puts him over the limit.  That one extra drink that killed my high school friend.  

It’s not a judgment on detail oriented people.  Some jobs demand it.  I am glad my teammate who runs our compensation and benefits has a strong eye for this.  To not pay attention to the details of someone’s salary would be pretty irresponsible.  Or a surgeon not being incredibly mindful about the details of the procedure she was about to perform could be catastrophic.  I am glad there are people who have an abundance of focus and aptitude in this area. 

I, however, need space.  To thrive, I need to be given the room to create and deliver.  I gladly and willingly collaborate and will accept direction on the end goal.  To start picking me apart on arrow shading, however, is to prove you have no clue how to work with me.  You do not bring me closer; you push me away. 

I know it sounds silly, for my mood to shift based on arrow shading.  It’s an example for a larger life challenge for me though.  To understand me, or to respect me, is to appreciate and value me at a larger level.  You’ve got to get that one of the reasons I’ve had some success in my career over the last two decades is because I work like I live. WIthout boundaries, without preconceived notions of how things should be, and certainly without sweating what my arrows should look like.  

So, no grudge held.  I very much respect the person who wanted me to change my arrows.  And I chose not to change them based on principal.  In the end, he did it anyway, because he sweats this stuff.  And if that’s how he wants to spend his time, fantastic.  That’s on him, not me.  I expressed my feelings on being micromanaged to this degree,  and I did so in as graceful way as I could.  At the end of the day, however, I am an adult.  I am an executive.  And while I love team harmony and collaboration, I am also a big fan of standing up for what I believe in.  

I believe in playing to my strengths.  Worrying about coloring in arrows the way you want me to do it is not my strength. Moreover, neither is being micromanaged by anyone.  Not by a co-worker, not by my teenage daughter, not anyone.  

Day 266 of The 365 Day Experiment. Doing Right Things For The Wrong Reasons.

From my corner couch “office” today, I was totally dead by the end of the day. Before I left, my buddy and I joked about what was on tap for tonight. Nothing big…just go home, make dinner, make cupcakes for Gia’s birthday tonight after she goes to bed, write, do some work. You know, a typical Monday night.

He gave me some s*it about the cupcakes. Yes, I get most people would buy them and make their lives infinitely easier. I could go back to my last night’ s post and say “Umm, hello idiot. There is an hour and a half back.” In my mind, however, I'm Italian.  To us, food equals love.  If I cook or bake for you, it is an expression of how much I care.  To buy my daughter grocery store cupcakes certainly makes my life a hell of a lot simpler, but in my mind, I'm a lousy mom.  I'm in no way suggesting that any mom who buys cupcakes is a slouch.  I'm just saying I would feel like I let myself - and her - down because of my own personal beliefs. 

Which brings me to the topic of doing the right things for the wrong reasons.  My intentions for baking these cupcakes is such a good one.  It's rooted in love for my daughter.  At the end of the day though, does it matter?  Will she even care?  Is it worth me staying up late to bake, so she  has a sweet treat as evidence of my love?  Would that time be better spent doing something else?

I wonder how many things we do, thinking they are those "right" things, but for the "wrong" reasons.  

Like leaving a big tip for a server in a restaurant because you want to impress your friends.

Or like handing out compliments to your colleagues so you can manipulate a work situation for your gain.

Or like when you apologize to someone you hurt badly when you aren't truly sorry.

Or like staying in a marriage or relationship when it's dead in your heart but you are afraid of hurting the other person.  Trust me.  If it's dead in your heart, you've already hurt them.  The rest is just disentangling yourself from the situation.

None of these should be confused with doing the wrong thing for the right reason…for example, stealing food to feed your starving family.  Or killing someone in self defense.  In doing the right things for the wrong reasons that I highlight, we aren't really dealing with major moral dilemmas (though perhaps in some cases that may be so.) There is no true right & wrong.  It is a personal judgment question.

The way I figure it, it comes down to three sets of people.  The person your action is affecting, yourself and "the others" if there are any. If your actions benefit all, you're in a good place. If your actions only benefit one, you are probably doing it for for the wrong reason.

Tonight, I'm baking.  We will both benefit. She gets something yummy she loves, and I get to go to sleep knowing I did something special for someone worth doing something special for.  Going forward, however, I'm going to be more mindful about things that take up my time.  I want to ensure that I'm doing things for the right reasons, but also using my limited time wisely.  

If we both aren't benefitting, I'll find another way.  SImple as that. 

Day 265 of The 365 Day Experiment. The Big Dump.

No, it’s not like that…come on now. Nice girls might write about being naked, but they certainly don’t write about “dumping” in the sense that guys might immediately consider the word. I mean it in the “less is more" sense.

Growing up in historic Concord, MA, we were deprived of ready access to all the cool things; like fast food restaurants, movie theaters and malls. What we did have in ample supply, however, were enough references to the 1700’s that a teenager could care less about. One that did stick with me though was about my neighbor of long ago, Henry David Thoreau. When he lived on Walden Pond, he lived incredibly simply. So simply, in fact, that he chose not to get a rug for his little cabin. To do so would mean he’d need to get a rug beater. If he got that, he’d need a rug hook to hang it on when he beat it, and so on.

Thoreau believed that acquisitions didn’t make him happier. His experiences did. I’m sort of somewhere in between on this. I like nice things, but I certainly don’t believe they lead to happiness.

I’ve been focused a lot on what I can add to my life to make it richer. After trying for ages to fit exercise into my life, I stopped making excuses and figured it out. I’m now in a routine and hitting my gym for a solid hour 3-4 times a week. And I’m loving it. I make time for my kids first, and then fit in other things that I want to do around that. Attempting to have a social life, enjoying whatever hobby strikes me that week…I’ve got a lot of non-work stuff filling my limited free time.

One problem though…nothing has come off my plate. Ironic, given I wrote about saying “no” the other night. I like to be busy, I like to say yes. That’s not a good thing though. I need to prioritize and realize something has got to give, before that thing that gives is my sanity.

So as long as I'm revisiting Concord memories tonight, I'll head back to one of my favorite places to go when I was a little kid and take a note:  the dump.  Sounds gross, right?  It probably was, but when I was a really little kid, before we had trash collection, we had to haul our trash to the dump.  This was in the days long before recycling and sorting everything out.  My brother and I used to love to go with my dad on Saturday mornings so we could look at "treasures."  The things that other people had discarded, like unwanted dishwashers, or big toys that wouldn't fit in a garbage bag.  For some reason, we found this rather magical.  

And now, I'm in need of going to the metaphorical dump, and getting rid of some of the things I now longer need on my plate.  So this week, I'm going  to carve out time to figure out now that I've added some things that are making me feel good, what I can get rid of.  There has to be something to earn me back an hour or two, right?  I'm applying the same logic I did to my working out.  It's something I felt was really important, so I figured out a way to make it happen.  So if I can find just one thing that exists in my calendar regularly that doesn't need really to, I'm dumping the excess. 

Not sure what it is just, but can't wait to figure it out.  I feel more productive already. 

Day 264 of The 365 Day Experiment. Writing Naked.

One of my guy friends suggested recently that I write about the parallels between writing emotionally naked each day, which I attempt to do, as well physically naked…which somehow he managed to think I did.  I do not, though it was entertaining to figure out why he thought that was the case.  Last night a discussion with my girlfriends about our aging faces made me think about the whole concept of being naked and that whole "parallels" topic again though.  

When we are born, we are flawless, beautiful little creatures.  We haven't been tainted by either emotional or physical hurt yet, nor have we experienced much of anything.  We wear a clean, flawless canvas as our outer shell.  We are protected by our parents, and shielded from that which will affect us negatively for as long as possible.  And obviously, that doesn't last very long.  

We all wear the physical scars of our youth, from the falls we took, the bones we broke, the chances we risked.  And we wear them on the inside as well.  From the heartbreak of being crushed by our first crush, to perhaps living through our parents split, to losing someone we love.  

And what struck me last night while joking with my girlfriends about our dermatologists telling us we have "aging skin" and now is the time to begin to consider Botox, is that I like my outer shell.  It's pretty much exactly in line with how my inner self feels.  It's got multiple, visible scars.  Some are big and noticeable.  Some are small and you really have to look for them.  And those crow's feet?  Those come from laughing, a lot.  Why would I want to pretend I haven't spent my life laughing my way through the scars?

I am not going to pretend I am not vain at all.  I'm working hard to keep myself healthy and decent looking for as long as possible.  Just like I work on keeping myself emotionally healthy.  But for me personally, I don't want to erase the signs of how I got here.  My skin, my body, this outer layer is indirect representation of the journey that's taken place on the inside.  

To get back to the writing naked piece, I don't.  I suppose I have, because I typically sleep naked, and pathetically I admit to working and writing in bed.  But not that often.  The point is, I might as well.  Because that is typically how I feel when I write about something incredibly personal.  I've never been particularly shy about being physically naked, but to be emotionally naked is far harder for me.  It's harder to throw a robe over it once you've exposed yourself.  And over the last 264 Days, that's exactly what I've been doing.  It's getting easier, but there are nights when I hit "post" and and feel completely raw. And I guess how that's how I know I'm staying true to myself and this project.

My body has served me well.  It's a little broken down.  I've got deep scars that netted me my two beautiful daughters.  I've got scars from teenage stunts that proved both stupid and educational.  I've got wrinkles, and tattoos and all kinds of things that make my body look different than the perfect way that it started.  And I'm okay with all of that.  Because it matches my insides. 

All in all, both are holding up pretty well.

Day 263 of The 365 Day Experiment. The Couch Office.

I love our new office space.  I dislike my new office.  Because of a variety of reasons, I am both separated from my team, and away from the noise and the chaos that energizes me.  So I have found a second space from which to work.  I have now taken up residence in our lobby on the big grey couch.   I have traded my corner office at the Pru for a corner of the  couch at 100 Summer. 

For much of the last past week, I have spent a few hours of each day camped out on that enormous sectional.  Using a pillow as my desk, and my legs typically spread out in front of me.  It's exactly how I work at home, only I'm not in sweats. 

And amazingly, it is having benefits I never expected.  Not only have I become more accessible to people, but my productivity has gone way up.  The accessibility piece is a no brainer.  Sit in a centrally located people, and it's rude not to say hi to people and not have them say hi back.  And while it's afforded me the opportunity to engage in a lot of conversations with people I typically talk to, I've had the chance to connect with a lot of new people too.  Or people I just wouldn't normally chat with on a normal day.  I typically have my finger on the pulse, but this week, I feel like it's been amped up to 11.

And then there is the side benefits to my colleagues.  When the CEO has needed me, he has known where to find me…if I'm not in my office, I'm on the couch.  So he then sits on the couch with me.  BAM.  I just made him instantly more accessible.  Same for a number of my other colleagues.  It's amazing how many impromptu group conversations started this week between senior and not-so-senior people just because of who stopped to chat with the girl camped out on the lobby couch. 

The productivity thing struck me too, though.  If I'm so busy having conversations, how can I get work done?  Two ways.  One, obviously, the knowledge I am gaining largely feeds my work.  I have gleaned new insights and ideas from the conversations I have had.  I am trying really hard not to turn around and start using the back wall behind my head as a whiteboard to capture them all.  My real office still needs to have some purpose, and I do need to be respectful of our shared office space and keep some semblance of decorum. 

I think the other piece is that I confirmed for myself that I need some white noise.  I always have music playing in my office, or something going on in the background to keep me motivated and buzzing while I work.  My new office is very quiet.  Too quiet.  So my couch space is centrally located in the heart of the chaos.  I love that, and find I work and think better. 

So now, for the foreseeable future, people who want to chat with me no longer need to work with my assistant to try to find time on my crazy calendar.  They know I am free when they find me perched in my second office…in the corner of the 13th floor lobby couch.

Day 262 of The 365 Day Experiment. NOstalgia.

Tonight I was given the word “nostalgia” to write about.  And literally the moment I was reading the text that contained that word, my younger daughter came walking to my room in tears.  

Her birthday is next Tuesday, and she was expressing her nostalgia for the days when we celebrated together, as a complete family.  Of course, as a slightly narcissistic pre-teen, I was able to make her feel better with a snuggle, some understanding, and the perspective that she was getting more than one celebration.  Getting to start the “Wonder of Gianna” starting tomorrow night with her dad and his fiancé and ending on Tuesday night with her sister and mom is not such a horrible way to acknowledge one’s birthday.  Of course it’s not like the old days, but there’s always a positive way to see it. 

I think that’s how the word nostalgia strikes me in general.  I spend the majority of my time focused on today, and looking forward to tomorrow.  I don’t like to look backwards.  So much so that I have almost no photos from before 1995 in my possession.  I left my physical artifacts from past behind in my childhood home, and they were disposed of when my parents made the move from Concord to Naples.  Wiped away were decades of “stuff.”  The memories in my mind, the part I truly value, remain.  

I like traveling light.  I mean that literally. Like when I went to Europe last summer with just a carry-on.  I mean it physically.  I look forward to spring and fall cleaning so I can purge my house of unwanted stuff to toss or donate.  Mostly, however, I mean it emotionally.  I do not wish travel through my life with emotional baggage.  Positive or negative.  Of course none of us wish to carry with us the sad or bad things from our pasts that drag us down.  But I also don’t tend to dwell on those great experiences of my past either however.  Why?  I think it’s because I’ve always been convinced what’s ahead of me is always better than what is behind me. And I’ve usually been right. 

Of course, I have albums filled of baby pictures of my kids, but I haven’t opened them in a long while.  I’m too busy enjoying the stages they are in now.  And like Gia tonight, I understand why she misses how things used to be; but I’m too busy conceiving of a way to make her new celebration an ever better experience than her old one to spend time dwelling on it.  

If I am completely honest, I can only think of one thing I am completely nostalgic for.  It occurs after the long grind of a day, after ensuring my daughters are taken care of and feeling loved and after every email is answered, lunch is packed, and 365 Day post is posted.  I miss crawling into bed, looking into the eyes of the person I love, and saying “I love you. Goodnight.” And having the same said back to me, and meant.  

But until that piece of my life comes together -  if I am fortunate enough to have it happen - I will continue to open every door in my life, take advantage of every opportunity I get, and continue to move forward.  Always forward.  NOstalgia for me.  

Day 261 of The 365 Day Experiment. The Power of "No."

I was in Staples yesterday afternoon and my kids were playing with that insanely irritating "Easy" button.  Which immediately brought to mind the one they really enjoy finding in stores; the knockoff "No" button.  The first time they saw one, they stood there and pressed that thing no less than twenty times each.  I have never wanted to physically toss an object across a store before until that shopping trip. 

What struck me about that moment, however, was what drew them to the word "No."  It's a three year old's favorite word; a first toe-dipping into independence and testing of boundaries.  Thankfully, they outgrow it…at least for awhile.  But it would appear the older we get, the more difficult it becomes.  Why is that?

I believe we live in a culture of "yes."  To say yes means to be collaborative, and open minded.  It suggests you are helpful.  It might even mean you are willing to take on new challenges or reach out of your comfort zone.  

To say "no," however, might suggest that you are negative.   Maybe you are risk-averse.  Maybe you've got an attitude of some sort.  

"No" doesn't need to be negative though.  "No" can be incredibly empowering.  As in "No, I'm sorry I can't join that committee for the 5th grade graduation.  It's just too much of a time commitment and I know I wouldn't do it justice.  But I would be happy to help out on x, y or z."  Or maybe it's "No, I don't want to go out with you again.  I appreciate the thought, but sending me slew of obscene texts after our first date kind of tells me I'm not the girl for you."   

"No" can be your moment.  "No" can become your ability to take back the anxiety that prevents you from leaning in and standing tall, and erase the need for excuses.  Why?

Because it speaks to our personal integrity and responsibility.  While we of course need to communicate, interact and rely on others in our daily lives, we do not and cannot be influenced by them at all times.  By taking control of what we will or will not allow ourselves to do, we each own our own lives.  

Of course, we need to learn to say "no" to ourselves too.  I may want to redecorate every room in my house, but is that the most financially responsible thing to do all at once?  Of course not.  One thing at a time.  Telling myself "no" on overspending keeps me on track (at least most of the time.)

Like with almost everything in life, balance is critical.  Too many "yes's", you'll be miserable and overwhelmed.  Too many "no's", and you are likely to really be pushing the boundaries of stubbornness and opposition.  Plus, you'll come across as a jerk to people you probably care about. 

"No" is powerful.  "No" is important.  It can keep you focused on your own mission in life, and prevent you from being taken advantage of by others.  Just be mindful of how you use it.  Even if you feel strongly about your conviction, no one likes to be said no to.  Sometimes it can lead to conflict, and sometimes it can harm relationships.  

And the end of the day, however, I understand why my kids loved that "No" button so much.  We all want the ability sometimes to just say "no" with that much ease.  No consequences, no hurt feelings.  With a little thought and care, it can be done.  And that "No" can set you free. 

Day 260 of The 365 Day Experiment. Rack of Ages.

If I take a day off of work, I want it to be because I am doing something fun.  Like indoor skydiving with my daughter for her birthday last year when we both played hooky for example.  Needing to work at home so I can squeeze in a few doctors appointments is not my idea of a good time.  That said,  now that I am a "woman of a certain age," those doctors appointments have taken on more meaning. 

Let's take my chest for example.  It's rather unremarkable.  It was never a highlight until I was into my twenties, and then for a brief decade, it somehow caught up with the rest of my body in a belated puberty and served me well.  And then kids happened.  And somehow, I ended up looking like I did when I was seventeen again.  It's rough enough when your thirteen year daughter is six inches taller than you.  When she's sporting a bigger bra size, it's an ego swallowing moment. 

And now here I am at the time of my life when I worry not about how my chest looks anymore (ok, I do a little) but how healthy it is.  Gone are the days of worrying about how fantastic I'm going to look in a v-neck.  Now, the priority is focused on mammogram results and ensuring the lumps we've found twice before really aren't anything, and these checks just continue to be preventative.  It's health first, vanity second.  Jesus, I sound like such an adult. 

My grandmother didn't live like this.  She passed away just over a year ago, at age 94.  She hadn't been to the doctor since she gave birth to my aunt, some 60+ years before.  Maybe there was something to that.  It was part just not ever wanting to ever know if something was wrong, part fantastic genes, and part believing, "whatever is to be, will be."  I kind of get that.  

I'm certainly not my grandmother.  I go to the doctor for my preventive checkups.  When I am really sick, I take medicine.  And when something is really wrong, like when I got really ill last fall, I don't panic.  I just deal with it.  I don't suffer from the illness that comes from over worrying that seems to plague many in my family.  I seem to be able to just take things in stride and only stress out about my health if there is something to actually stress out about.  I am really grateful for that small gift. 

So today I survived another scan, which appears to be clean.  I love the language that accompanies it.  My "unremarkable" rack may not be as physically great as it was back in the day.  But at this point in my life, I'll take that unremarkable comment all day long.   

Day 259 of The 365 Day Experiment. My Kids Are Missing Out.

After seeing Flashdance the Musical the other night with my daughters it left me feeling a little nostalgic.  No, I don't miss 80's acid washed clothing and I wasn't a huge fan of much of the music of the era.  It did leave me wishing there was some stuff from my teen years that my kids were still exposed to in this age of instant gratification and technology though. 

Like they are missing out on the passing of notes in class.  That secret, scared to death moment when your friend slips you a piece of paper not-so-discreetly when your teacher turns her back.  And you can't wait to open it to find the tiny bit of information contained in that poor excuse for an origami attempt.  You never knew what you would read.  Or if you would be busted for having it or passing it.  Now kids just text back and forth at lightening speed.

Like they are missing out on going to the record store with their allowance and thumbing through the stacks of albums and cassettes, agonizing which one was would be prioritized to the top of the list.  There is no admiring of amazing cover artwork anymore.  Or being excited to get the liner notes and lyrics when you open the single cellophane wrap of your purchase so you could figure out that Kurt Cobain was actually singing "Here we are now, entertain us, NOT Here we are now, in containers."  Now they just instant download off iTunes or stream Spotify anytime a musical urge hits.

Like they are missing out on the unscheduled time to just screw around and be kids.  Time with their friends is planned out in advance, and carefully choreographed  by parents because they are over scheduled with activities. Everyone feels the pressure to find their 'thing" so much earlier in life now, and it comes with private lessons and extra tutoring.  The days of being able to walk outside your house on a summer morning with your friends and spend the day hanging out without your parents being stressed out about your getting abducted, run over, or otherwise harassed are over. 

And I'm sure there are about 100 other things they are missing out on, but the biggest one is the most important to me.  It is why I, the girl with the cell phone constantly attached to her body, can make the argument against them…

They are in jeopardy of missing out on forming real, live, human relationships.   Everything is done via those tiny devices.  And we are all guilty of using them for everything they allow us to do.  And in many cases, they have optimized our lives in a multitude of ways.  My daughter calls in the middle of a meeting?  I can quickly text back "can't talk now, what can I help you with?" and we can quickly solve a problem.  But when they are in the midst of budding relationships, kids become a new couple via social media without having ever spoken?  WTF?  Or the courage that girls can feel from before their keyboard to taunt others?  Way worse than any bullying we had to deal with when we were in middle school.  

I adore technological advances.  But I adore human relationships more.  It's all about balance.  I love that my kids are computer literate and have skills I can't imagine having at their age.  However, I also have a major issue when technology takes over.  Every parent has to create their own rules around this, and I do my best.  We do enough communicating in my house I'm sure my kids wish they were heads down in technology more.  It's important though, and something I bring to work with me.  Emails and texts are great for a short message or response.  Meaningful or challenging conversations are way better in person.  And if our kids don't learn the basic skills of how to do that now, they are really going to be handicapped when they need to connect or work with each other later in life. 

And that ends that rant for the night.

Day 258 of The 365 Day Experiment. I Used To Think Butterflies Were Stupid.

Sometimes, it doesn't take much to turn me off to something.  In the nineties. seeing Mariah Carey wearing giant butterfly rings and every other girl who dared to get some ink (still a novelty back then) sport a butterfly tattoo, I grew to detest the little critters.  

This seems odd, given they are often symbolic as a representation of change, which I so dearly embrace.  The concept I love.  The little winged guys I did not.  Until I learned of The Butterfly Effect.

In the 60's a meteorologist named Edward Lorenz presented his theory called the "Butterfly Effect" to the New York Academy of Science.  It suggested that a butterfly flapping its wings can set air molecules in motion.  This in turn can move more and more molecules of air, the gradual accumulation of which can create measurable changes in the atmosphere.  These changes  could eventually alter, delay, accelerate or even prevent a tornado on the other side of the world.  

This chaos theory has been explored and debated for years, but it still largely regarded as viable. And while I don't particularly care about its applications to weather per se, it drew me to the work of Andy Andrews, who wrote the book "The Butterfly Effect:  How Your Life Matters."  Thinking about how what we do today - every move I make - has lasting effects on how I parent, how I work, how I love, how I live - that has made me far more mindful about the decisions I make.  

Each day, when I kiss my kids goodbye and tell them I love them, or say hello to the person who hands me my coffee or thank the disgruntled person who hands me my change at the grocery story, I try to think of this.  Every single thing I do has an accumulating effect on something or someone else, for better or worse.  And it all counts.  

I am far from perfect.  I am certain I screw up just as much as I do well.  But having touch points like The Butterfly Effect to keep me on track. I'm one of those people who want make my own little contribution to the world.  I don't need grand achievements.  I want to do great work and create jobs for people who love and feel inspired by what they do.  I want to raise children who are happy, passionate and make their own mark.  And I want to make everyday count, in whatever way I can.  

I still don't like butterflies, but I do love their effect. 

Day 257 of The 365 Day Experiment. She's A Maniac.

Tonight I am taking my kids to see Flashdance on fake Broadway (in Boston on stage.)  When you've got one kid who loves Wicked and musicals and another who leans more to things like Stomp, you've got to chose wisely.  I'm hoping this was a good call.  

They actually pointed this show out because they had seen the DVD in a drawer with a bunch of non-kid others.  They've been watching a lot of my old ones lately -  mostly of the John Hughes genre - lately.  And I have found it pretty entertaining to travel back in time to my teens and reliving these movies with them.  They love them, and so did I when I was their age.  And do still.  It's amazing how a good movie can stand the test of time with its relevance.

Flashdance hadn't occurred to me to show them, but I remembered how much I loved it back in the day.  It wasn't the weird sweatshirt thing that everyone was doing back in the 80's or the leg warmers.  Thankfully I avoided that fashion phase.  It was Jennifer Beals crazy portrayal of a young woman going after her dreams against some pretty big obstacles that hooked me.  

That's why I'm taking my kids tonight.  Of course there will be great music, and I'm sure the dancing will be fantastic.  But my daughters hear me talk about passion and doing what you love on a daily basis. I'm sure that is annoying.  Tonight, they get to see and feel a representation of what comes out of their maniac mother's mouth.  Maybe they will relate to it in a different way, because they are experiencing it differently.  Maybe they will connect they dots, and maybe they won't.  And maybe they will just think it's a cool show with some really flexible people.  

I just know that for as long as these kids are under my roof, I will continue to attempt to find fun, creative ways to marry what's important for me to have them learn as life lessons with the stuff they hear me babble about daily.  There is no parenting handbook for this stuff. I'm just making it up as I go along.  So far, so good.

Day 256 of The 365 Day Experiment. The Shiny Red Luconi.

My brilliant brother is a product designer.  When we were kids, he wanted to use those skills to be a car designer.  And like the Italian designers Ferrari and Lamborghini before him, he had a vision of having a shiny Luconi on the road when he grew up.  And I would have gladly traded my beloved Porsche obsession for a car that held our name.  Unfortunately, that dream of his never panned out, though he's gone on to design some pretty amazing things.  

Which leads me to tonight.  For the first time in I don't remember how long, I am home tonight.  Alone. No plans, except for this writing.  And as much as I hate to admit that to myself, I needed it.

It's been a very long, mostly good week at work.  I accomplished much more than normal in my new single office, but am missing the brainstorming, collaboration and just plain joking around that came with sharing.  That, and I am separated from my team by a floor.  That part sucks, but it keeps me actively all around the office all day, which is a good thing.  I'm finding new ways to work and interact with people which our new space has configured to help us to do brilliantly.  But all change requires a shift in behaviors and that takes effort and energy.

And today I spent trying to play the dual role of good mom and working from home as my kids had a half day.  It was great to make them feel special by dropping them off at school rather than having them take the bus, or grab lunch together before they took off for their afternoon with friends.  I'm grateful for those extra moments we get together.  Anything out of our normal routine we all seem to appreciate, because we all realize it doesn't happen often.  And when it does, it gives me those moments of mommy guilt.  While I know a ride to school in the morning isn't worth tossing a career away for, anything that makes your child feel special and gets you a few extra minutes in the car with them and confessing a new nugget of info is time worth spending.  I love those few extra minutes, and try to create the moments whenever I can find.  It's such hard work to keep it a priority every single day.

And then they got picked up for a night with their dad.  A bit later than I was expecting, so the dinner plans I had with some of my team I couldn't make.  At first I was really disappointed, and then I took it as a sign. I needed a break.   Badly.  It started this morning when my alarm went off and I quickly reset it so I could get an extra hour and a half in bed rather than going the gym.  I was initially pissed at myself, but then forgave.  And then this afternoon, before a conference call, I realized I was so tired, I set my alarm so I could take a seven minute power nap before my phone was to ring.  And I passed out immediately.  

And then there was tonight.  My goal was to write as soon as the kids left so I could be done early and enjoy a quiet night, maybe rent a movie, read or do something I don't usually get to do.  And what happened?  They walked out the door, I sat on the couch to write, and passed out for two hours with my computer in my lap.  

I am getting a pretty clear signal it's time to pull this Luconi into the pit area for some adjustments. Apparently I have a flat tire, and I haven't been reading the warning lights.  I'm tending to ignore those flashing lights because I'm too busy looking at the next turn in the track.   

In my mind, I have needed to convince myself this car will win the race. I have been working hard to find the correct balance of sleep, exercise and food that helps me operate at peak capacity.  The outside design of the car is turning into a classic but well designed model.  The driver on the inside is convinced she will win the race because she's running on heart and well conceived plan. And the driver also  gets that a winning car is only as great as its pit crew.  This past year I've gone a long way in building that crew for myself.  I think it's the only thing that's kept me on the track.   

I've got a whole lot of laps left until this race is over.  So until then, this shiny red Luconi will pull over to the fueling station, change her tires, and rest up until tomorrow.  When the alarm goes off early announcing it's time to hit the gym, the engine will be ready to fire again.