I had an epiphany this week that has motivated me through several tasks, which I want to share: Done is better than perfect!
Pareto's principle tells us that 80% of our results are produced by 20% of our efforts. So within that 20% of effort, what is the difference between almost-perfect, and almost-almost perfect? For me, quite a bit of time and
procrastination - not necessarily improvement. I don't think of myself as a perfectionist, since I don't really ever think there is a state of 'perfect.' I do constantly doubt the done-ness of my work - and am always trying to raise the bar, thought - maybe there's a bit of perfectionism in there somewhere, driving me crazy.
This week I've been working on learning to back off and be satisfied
with the second or third draft, as opposed to tweaking and
re-tweaking and waiting until the morning to re-read and re-tweak.
Done is much better than perfect! It's a bit nerve-wracking for me, but the relief of being able to check the task off of my list is so much better than the weight of having it continue to hang over my head.
So for now, I'm adopting the mantra, and we'll see if it continues to drive forward momentum.
August 4, 2018
February 14, 2018
Broken Hearts Make it Rain
This
morning I attended the Business Women's Leadership Group hosted by the
Boulder Chamber. The theme(fitting for Valentine's Day) was "Love
Yourself & Your Heart," and featured a panel of speakers offering
advice about heart health, stress management, work-life balance, sleep
and nutrition. People asked for advice about everything from "How can I
better prepare for an appointment with my cardiologist or GP to
maximize our time together," to "Why am I awake for an hour in the
middle of every night," and "How can I tell whether I'm just cranky
today or if I'm suffering from actual anxiety?" The speakers each had a
unique perspective with helpful tips about what it takes to feel
balanced and be healthy, but none of the advice they offered was
newsworthy or revolutionary. Sleep more, eat whole foods as much as you
can, and stay active(even a minute of walking around your house to
break up bouts of sitting qualifies as "activity!") All good reminders! Overall, I very
much enjoy BWLG events, and the turnout this morning was no exception.
However,
my experience of the whole conversation was shaded by an experience I
had yesterday, which I feel is an indication of why it's easy to bring a
group of 60 women together to talk about why we need more sleep,
healthy activity, and positive nutrition. I met with a client who
breezed into the conference room a few minutes late and looking very
flustered. As she settled down I offered to take a minute if she needed
some time to get centered, and she burst into tears. She had come from
a meeting with her director(also a female leader in her company), who
had just told her that she was not living up to her salaried position,
because she wasn't responding to emails after dinner, and hadn't put in
enough time on the weekends lately. This woman has a fierce work ethic
and more integrity than most I've had the privilege to collaborate with.
Hearing about someone being disappointed that she had been spending time
in the evenings with her husband and two small children instead of
responding to after hours work requests? My heart broke for her!
To
me, a salary means that I will put in as many hours as it takes to get
the job done. During conference weeks, I can easily put in back-to-back
17-hour days that are exhausting. But there are weeks during the
summer or in the middle of ski season when I don't have deadlines, and
get to take a half-day to go for a hike or spend a random Wednesday on
the slopes with my dad. Unfortunately, this is not the first time that I
have encountered a manager who has the expectation of "salaried"
employees to be accessible 24/7, and I think this is a sad factor contributing to our current society.
Labels:
BossBabe,
health,
heart,
human resources,
motivation,
women in business
August 5, 2017
When What People Said Meant Something
I've tried not to hash out my true feelings about the current state of American politics when friends and family are around, because it has just become so unpleasant! But current events over the past month have pushed me over the edge. I've never been more embarrassed to be an American, and I have been longing for the days when anything expressed on a national platform actually meant something.
Remember when?
- Leaders had to have integrity and accomplished careers to earn the respect of people they needed to elect them
- 'Family Values' included respect and support for your partner and all of your children
- Meeting, or hearing a speech by, or working for the White House was an honor a select few people got to receive on an annual basis
- Legislation used to be researched, discussed, vetted, tested, re-written, and reviewed again; and citizens had the opportunity to weigh in by sharing their feedback with their representatives, and those representatives had the opportunity to submit amendments, based on that feedback
When did it become acceptable for anyone - let alone someone holding prominent decision-making abilities - to use slang anatomical terms on national media, so vulgar that broadcasts replaying the quotes have to censor them? I refuse to accept this behavior as 'normal.'
When did we become so attention-deficit that announcements and opinions shared in the incomplete sentences of a 140-character tweet are guiding government policy? I expect my legislators to represent their constituents, research effective policies, and communicate professionally to defend their decisions.
I understand that politics includes making "promises" during the campaign that aren't always feasible to keep once installed. However, I am disappointed in all of the people I hear continuing to support politicians who made bold statements and commitments to electors during an extended campaign, and reversed course once they have had the ability to drive those changes. The leaders I support stand behind their commitments, even when it means explaining why they couldn't accomplish something they were trying to. Whether you accomplish it or not, if you claim to believe in something, those beliefs shouldn't change when you are actually installed.
When did it become tolerable for leaders to change their story every day until it's nothing like their original statement? I refuse to normalize the lack of accountability our leaders have for the things they say, on or off the record.
When did it become possible for government employees to continue to add pages to their federal disclosure documents as their past actions are revealed to the public, simply because they didn't realize that "comprehensive" actually means "everything?" When the rules bend for some, there is no way to hold them fast for anyone in the future.
When did we begin to accept that government employees in public service positions can garner additional profits by directing government business through their personal enterprises - including money from foreign governments? I prefer that my tax dollars do not end up in the hands and pockets of manipulative corporations, especially when the owners have allegedly committed to serve our country.
When did it become acceptable for our commander in chief to condone brutality by law enforcement agents? I expect the leaders of our country to work towards equal rights, equal opportunities, and justice for all citizens. There is no place for violent behavior in a system with the primary goal of keeping peace in a civilized society.
When did empty threats spread over social media become newsworthy? I cannot listen to any more media correspondents read and discus social media posts as if they had personally interviewed the source. To maintain any level of integrity, facts should be verified by multiple sources before they are broadcast. Anyone can post anything on the internet; that does not make it true.
When did bribery become a common and legal component of our political system? A true democracy would not be controlled by financial contributions, which purchase the opinions and votes of our representatives, senators, and governors.
When did destroying the world around us become common practice? In less than a decade, our planet will not have the ability to produce enough food to sustain the projected population. We should be working together to ensure the future of our species, but we seem to be vying for the most efficient depletion of natural resources possible.
How many more people have to suffer or sacrifice their personal liberties before we can offer equal opportunities to all people, regardless of gender, race, religion, economic background, or how you choose to define your family unit? How far do we have to lower our standards to be able to elect officials who live with integrity and abide by ethical morals?
What will it take to get back to an America where I can be a patriotic citizen again?
I refuse to accept our current state of disarray as the new normal. Even though it may take years to sort through the mess our society has created, I do believe that we have the potential to find a way out of the darkness. We are all in this together, for better or worse, and I choose to believe the future will be better.
July 18, 2017
So Fresh and So Clean Clean
After a high-intensity spring filled to capacity with fundraisers,
conferences, and award ceremonies, June ended up consumed by personal
trips. We spent a long weekend in New York City. Sound Circle ventured
to the Western Slope to perform, and spent a few days recording in the Rangely Tank.
Then we joined a family reunion on the Beaches of 30A in Florida.
Needless to say, by the end of the month the yard was looking rather
unkempt and the house was much more cluttered than it's been in a while!
The
first Friday we were both home again, a cleaning frenzy unlike I
have ever experienced was sparked! After an hour-long search for
something I should have been able to immediately put my hands on, I was
frustrated at my lack of organization, disgusted by the clumps of
golden retriever hair that wafted around with everything I moved, and
amazed at how much stuff had collected on all of our horizontal surfaces.
Brian
had an emergency at the office and had to go in that Saturday. On top
of having to work all day, the poor guy had to be at his desk by 6am!
Trying to be supportive, I rolled out of bed when he got up to shower,
and made coffee. Initially I was thrilled at the prospect having the house to myself
to work some and relax, but as I was lounging in bed after he left,
my brain wouldn't stop thinking about all of the work that needed
to be done. I wanted to organize the storage closet in my office, and
sort through the piles of mail that had collected on the kitchen island
over the past month. There was lots of laundry to do, and all of our
packing and un-packing had created a pile of half-used toiletries on the
bathroom counter. It didn't take long for me to get out of bed and
make a tour of our main floor, mentally listing all of the areas that
desperately needed attention. A lot of attention!
I
wish I could re-create the angst that inspired such a burst of energy,
because I don't remember the last time I was so productive. I cleared
off every surface and loaded the dining room table with the piles that
needed to be sorted. I started the laundry, deep cleaned the
kitchen and all of the bathrooms, swept and vacuumed the whole house,
and refreshed all of the sheets and linens.
At
some point during the day, I realized that since the yard is usually
his domain, when Brian got home he'd feel obligated to mow the lawn and
fix up at least the front yard. But who wants to deal with that after a
full day of problem-solving? With Bosco's supervision, I trimmed a
bunch of low-hanging branches and cut back our aggressive bushes,
dead-headed the faded iris, and pulled all of the thistles and milkweed I
could get my hands on. The mower cooperated and I got the entire yard
cut, and scrubbed the sap off the deck furniture. Between the weeds, all
of the dead pine needles piled on the deck, and the shredded pine cone
bits our charming squirrels insist on dropping in the back yard, I
filled both of our trash bins with yard debris. By the time Brian got
home, I was giving Bosco a bath, in hopes of extending the pleasure of
the clean house and neat yard.
It
was a whirlwind of stuff. And dirt(really grimy dirt). And no writing
or goal-setting or daydreaming. And oh, was I sore for a couple of
days. But Sunday was pure bliss! Sleeping in, with fresh sheets and a
soft fluffy pup. Waking up to a clutter-free truly clean house with no
chores left to do. We both got to relax and enjoy our little sanctuary
for the rest of the weekend!
All
this week I've felt organized, more productive, and and more
motivated to keep things from collecting like that. Something I hope to
remember in the future every time I am inclined to put off something
menial - chores/responsibilities/work tasks only get bigger and more
complicated the longer you procrastinate them!
Labels:
chores,
motivation,
procrastination,
resolutions,
summer
January 19, 2017
Please Don't Wake Me Now
My alarm went off five minutes earlier than my husband's this morning. Some days I hit snooze and doze until his alarm goes off, but not this morning.
I got up, started a pot of coffee, and did some morning affirmations before 30 minutes of yoga. While he was in the shower, I spent fifteen minutes triaging my email to check for any surprises, and then put myself together for the day. With him out the door, I got on a conference call, and then spent a half hour following up on client task work. I took a break early on to drive my mom to a medical appointment, swung by the post office to ship a gift to a friend, go to the bank, and stop at the grocery store. I returned home just in time for another work-related call, got the roast for dinner seared/seasoned/started in the crock pot, and then made myself lunch. My afternoon was full of client work, and I also did a consultation with a local non-profit coordinating an awareness walk in the spring. I signed off at 6pm and went to rehearsal, where I spent two and a half hours on stage, preparing for our upcoming concert and discussing our trepidation about the current state of the country. I returned home around 9:15 to find my husband on his computer, so I made a salad, steamed some fresh broccoli, and sat down to eat dinner around 9:45.
"How was your day?" he asked, as he sat down next to me. It wasn't particularly a good day...there were a lot of miscellaneous things to do, and I didn't feel very focused. "It wasn't a bad day," I shrugged, contemplating all of the unfinished items on my to-do list and unsure how I really felt. "How was your day?" After a heavy sigh, he replied, "Today was a really long day."
He doesn't have a trivial job and I know he works hard. Lots of important people report to him, and he reports to other important people, and there is always tension between time spent in meetings and time actually doing the tasks assigned in meetings. But comparatively, he drove to work, went out to lunch, worked all afternoon and came home, where I assume he just worked some more. I got to exercise, eat healthy food I made myself, run personal errands, help out a family member, volunteer time to a local charity, and put in 6 hours of contracted work for clients I love. I also spent fulfilling time engaged with activist sisters making art to improve our community, and cooked a wholesome meal for my partner.
How was my day? I was a serious bad-ass today, and I am literally living the dream!
I got up, started a pot of coffee, and did some morning affirmations before 30 minutes of yoga. While he was in the shower, I spent fifteen minutes triaging my email to check for any surprises, and then put myself together for the day. With him out the door, I got on a conference call, and then spent a half hour following up on client task work. I took a break early on to drive my mom to a medical appointment, swung by the post office to ship a gift to a friend, go to the bank, and stop at the grocery store. I returned home just in time for another work-related call, got the roast for dinner seared/seasoned/started in the crock pot, and then made myself lunch. My afternoon was full of client work, and I also did a consultation with a local non-profit coordinating an awareness walk in the spring. I signed off at 6pm and went to rehearsal, where I spent two and a half hours on stage, preparing for our upcoming concert and discussing our trepidation about the current state of the country. I returned home around 9:15 to find my husband on his computer, so I made a salad, steamed some fresh broccoli, and sat down to eat dinner around 9:45.
"How was your day?" he asked, as he sat down next to me. It wasn't particularly a good day...there were a lot of miscellaneous things to do, and I didn't feel very focused. "It wasn't a bad day," I shrugged, contemplating all of the unfinished items on my to-do list and unsure how I really felt. "How was your day?" After a heavy sigh, he replied, "Today was a really long day."
He doesn't have a trivial job and I know he works hard. Lots of important people report to him, and he reports to other important people, and there is always tension between time spent in meetings and time actually doing the tasks assigned in meetings. But comparatively, he drove to work, went out to lunch, worked all afternoon and came home, where I assume he just worked some more. I got to exercise, eat healthy food I made myself, run personal errands, help out a family member, volunteer time to a local charity, and put in 6 hours of contracted work for clients I love. I also spent fulfilling time engaged with activist sisters making art to improve our community, and cooked a wholesome meal for my partner.
How was my day? I was a serious bad-ass today, and I am literally living the dream!
December 3, 2016
You Never Forget Your First
Last spring I parked my little gold Corolla on a side street in Downtown Boulder while I spent a full day in a strategy meeting. It was overcast and drizzly all day, and when I returned to my car for the ride home, the driver's seat was soaking wet. So wet, that when I got home, my pants were drenched and dripping when I changed out of them. I assumed that I had left a window cracked, and chastised myself accordingly. Then, later in the week I found myself getting splashed in the face periodically while driving in the rain.
I checked the window, which was definitely closed. Befuddled, I followed the drops to a seam along the windshield. On the outside along the glass, the car has rust spots that prevented me from having the pocked windshield replaced a couple of years ago because once removed, nobody could guarantee they would be able to properly install another piece of glass. (Apparently this is a common issue with Japanese cars from the late 90's.) I called my dad with a heavy heart to ask about potential remedies, and he casually delivered the news that it was probably time to let the car go.
We coasted through the dry Colorado summer without incident, but when her registration came due in August, I decided it would be silly to keep a car during the winter that I couldn't stay dry(or keep passengers dry) in during inclement weather. I followed the advice on the radio and donated my loyal vehicle to CPR for auction. I know it's silly to have become so attached to a possession, but when the man came to take her, and loaded her onto a tow truck behind a Saab that had all of its back windows smashed out, my heart broke a little.
We had a great 13 years together, and I am so grateful for having had such reliable transportation. I bought her a week before I needed to be back on campus to start my senior year at DePauw. She needed an O2 sensor pretty early on, and I replaced the struts and the clutch at 120K. I could change the oil myself, and the mechanics of the engine are in fine shape - cosmetically, the car is just falling apart. I've put up with a lot of little issues, though, because the task of replacing a low-maintenance manual transmission that averaged 40 mpg is a tall order in our current automated and computerized society.
Together we managed 6 interstate moves, 2 degrees, launched a business, and taught 4 boyfriends how to drive a stick shift. We explored the Midwest, the Rocky Mountains, the Southwestern Desert, and endured countless hours on I-70. We listened to lots of books on tape(then CD, when I upgraded her deck), scanned the radio in at least 15 different states, and hosted joyful dance parties for one. When my other golden sidekick joined my life, I got to bring Bosco along for the ride, and the window was the perfect height for him to sit in the back seat and still have his ears flap in the wind.
To my perfect-for-me '98, thank you for the years of protection, opening up possibilities and adventures, and helping me "get things done." You've set the bar high, and no matter what I drive in the future, you'll always be my favorite.
I checked the window, which was definitely closed. Befuddled, I followed the drops to a seam along the windshield. On the outside along the glass, the car has rust spots that prevented me from having the pocked windshield replaced a couple of years ago because once removed, nobody could guarantee they would be able to properly install another piece of glass. (Apparently this is a common issue with Japanese cars from the late 90's.) I called my dad with a heavy heart to ask about potential remedies, and he casually delivered the news that it was probably time to let the car go.
We coasted through the dry Colorado summer without incident, but when her registration came due in August, I decided it would be silly to keep a car during the winter that I couldn't stay dry(or keep passengers dry) in during inclement weather. I followed the advice on the radio and donated my loyal vehicle to CPR for auction. I know it's silly to have become so attached to a possession, but when the man came to take her, and loaded her onto a tow truck behind a Saab that had all of its back windows smashed out, my heart broke a little.
We had a great 13 years together, and I am so grateful for having had such reliable transportation. I bought her a week before I needed to be back on campus to start my senior year at DePauw. She needed an O2 sensor pretty early on, and I replaced the struts and the clutch at 120K. I could change the oil myself, and the mechanics of the engine are in fine shape - cosmetically, the car is just falling apart. I've put up with a lot of little issues, though, because the task of replacing a low-maintenance manual transmission that averaged 40 mpg is a tall order in our current automated and computerized society.
Together we managed 6 interstate moves, 2 degrees, launched a business, and taught 4 boyfriends how to drive a stick shift. We explored the Midwest, the Rocky Mountains, the Southwestern Desert, and endured countless hours on I-70. We listened to lots of books on tape(then CD, when I upgraded her deck), scanned the radio in at least 15 different states, and hosted joyful dance parties for one. When my other golden sidekick joined my life, I got to bring Bosco along for the ride, and the window was the perfect height for him to sit in the back seat and still have his ears flap in the wind.
To my perfect-for-me '98, thank you for the years of protection, opening up possibilities and adventures, and helping me "get things done." You've set the bar high, and no matter what I drive in the future, you'll always be my favorite.
Labels:
1998 Toyota Corolla,
gratitude,
memories,
stick shift,
true love
July 15, 2016
You Choose Your Path; How Heavy it Can Be
Shame on me, for feeling guilty about every time I only ran a half-mile and squeaked out an abbreviated weight circuit. Shame on me for berating myself each week I was only able to fit in one or two workouts, instead of meeting my goal of three or four.
I've been making a lot of excuses since February, and let my workout routine lapse. After we got back from vacation at the beginning of June, I spent some focused time setting goals and outlined a new plan to get back into shape. I laid out an incremental series of cardio exercises to edge myself back up to my 2-mile run. I organized my list of weight-lifting exercises by the muscle groups they activate, and created an order that would effectively give each group time to recover before they were focused on again. I created a system to track my progress, which, I know from experience, is key to motivating myself on this front.
All of this background is to explain why and how I've been tracking my workouts intently over the past month, and to give context to an epiphany I had reviewing my data. (I know I'm a nerd. Live and let live.)
For the last three years, I've been tracking my outside workouts with an app that uses my phone's GPS to record distances, and keeps track of my speed. Looking up some details about my paces that had been recently recorded, I figured out that I have tracked 291 activities, averaging 1.87 mi each. I've tracked a total of 423 miles in 3 years!
I know it doesn't hold a candle to someone training for a race, or keeping serious fitness as their priority, but for me? That is a lot of sacred minutes I have put in out on the path. Time I've gotten to spend in my own head, up against my own fears and frustrations and irritations.
It's like Jeff Olsen's Slight Edge principle, you're either moving forwards or backwards - even if it's in tiny little incremental steps. I wouldn't have traveled those 423 miles if I had succumbed to the pressures of a busy schedule and the yearning for sleep. Even on the days I dragged myself out of bed later than I intended and rushed through a shorter run than I wanted, I was making progress.
So the next time I feel inadequate, I hope I can stop feeling guilty about things I haven't accomplished, and remember how far each step forward has brought me.
I've been making a lot of excuses since February, and let my workout routine lapse. After we got back from vacation at the beginning of June, I spent some focused time setting goals and outlined a new plan to get back into shape. I laid out an incremental series of cardio exercises to edge myself back up to my 2-mile run. I organized my list of weight-lifting exercises by the muscle groups they activate, and created an order that would effectively give each group time to recover before they were focused on again. I created a system to track my progress, which, I know from experience, is key to motivating myself on this front.
All of this background is to explain why and how I've been tracking my workouts intently over the past month, and to give context to an epiphany I had reviewing my data. (I know I'm a nerd. Live and let live.)
For the last three years, I've been tracking my outside workouts with an app that uses my phone's GPS to record distances, and keeps track of my speed. Looking up some details about my paces that had been recently recorded, I figured out that I have tracked 291 activities, averaging 1.87 mi each. I've tracked a total of 423 miles in 3 years!
I know it doesn't hold a candle to someone training for a race, or keeping serious fitness as their priority, but for me? That is a lot of sacred minutes I have put in out on the path. Time I've gotten to spend in my own head, up against my own fears and frustrations and irritations.
It's like Jeff Olsen's Slight Edge principle, you're either moving forwards or backwards - even if it's in tiny little incremental steps. I wouldn't have traveled those 423 miles if I had succumbed to the pressures of a busy schedule and the yearning for sleep. Even on the days I dragged myself out of bed later than I intended and rushed through a shorter run than I wanted, I was making progress.
So the next time I feel inadequate, I hope I can stop feeling guilty about things I haven't accomplished, and remember how far each step forward has brought me.
Labels:
exercise,
Jeff Olsen,
morning jog,
positivity,
Slight Edge
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