by Heather Plett | Feb 9, 2010 | journey, Leadership
Navigating the roads in India - always a tricky proposition
Sometimes you think you’ve been through a journey already and it will be old hat the next time you hit the same road. You know where the curves in the road are, you know when to slow down for the intersections, you know the sections of road that will be smooth sailing and you can drift along with your radio on and your cruise control set.
And then you get out on the road, and they’ve changed the landscape. There’s construction on the road that you didn’t expect. There’s a new mega-highway that’s moving faster than you’ve driven before. There are potholes (and rickshaws, to go along with the image above) that weren’t there before and somebody straightened your favourite curve.
I’ve been in management for thirteen years now. You’d think I’d know this journey inside out. You’d think I’d know when to anticipate the curves and bumps and rickshaws.
But they keep changing the road map. The speed picks up when you don’t expect it. There are new curves in the road. And the passengers in the car? Well, they’re never the same and the universal truth about people is that they’re all so very unique and different. Each one adds a new dimension to the journey. Some of them get a little ornery and want to ride on top of the bus for a better view of the scenery!
I’ve got more passengers (or co-pilots?) in the car then I’ve ever had before. (Not quite as many as the photo would suggest, but sometimes it feels like it.) I’ve got a bigger budget to manage than ever. I’ve got a faster moving car and a tighter timeframe to reach my destination. The demands are great and the expectations are greater. Some days I feel just like that bus driver must feel – dodging rickshaws and trying not to lose any of the passengers on the top.
Lately I’ve had a few new positions added to the team, and each of those positions has carved off a piece of the work that I normally do. That means I get to delegate more, but it also means I have to let go of some of the fun stuff I like to do. It also means that I’ll be held accountable for more people’s mistakes if I don’t give them clear direction and ample support.
I’ve come to a new intersection and sometimes I wonder if I’ve got everything I need to drive through it. The right road map? Enough gas in my tank? A clear destination? The right skills to navigate new territory?
It’s not hard to get caught up in daydreaming about just getting off the road. Or going back to the familiar, slower-moving roads that don’t stretch my capacity quite as much.
But that’s not in the game plan – at least not for now.
And… here’s the place where I try to wrap this post up in a neat little bow. If this were an expert blog, the next several paragraphs would be full of valuable advice about how to anticipate the curves and how to keep the people from falling off your bus (complete with bolded headings and ten easy steps). But it’s not an expert blog. It’s a blog written by a fumbler who’s trying to navigate the leadership journey without running over any poor rickshaw drivers along the way.
Just sharin’ my story in case you’ve been on a similar journey.
So… what’s changing in your landscape?
by Heather Plett | Feb 7, 2010 | art, Creativity, Uncategorized
Probably at least once a week, I remind my staff that we take a “wholistic approach” in our work. Some of them are fundraisers and others are educators (and some of us bridge the gap), and yet when we approach the people who support our organization, we invite them to give, to advocate, to see justice, to volunteer, to pray, and to consider how their lifestyles contribute to global hunger. We invite them through any or all doorways they are prepared to enter because the needs are complex, the reasons for hunger are complex, and people around the world are complex. Just one of those actions alone will not end hunger without some balance of the other actions. True transformation comes from wholistic commitment.
It’s ironic then, that I so often forget to take a wholistic approach in my own life. I focus solely on one area of my life or another, and then I wonder why I feel out of balance or I don’t accomplish what I feel I should be able to.
Sometimes I read a lot of books and feed my intellectual side. Sometimes I focus on exercise and/or rest and look after the physical side. Sometimes I spend time in a spiritual practice (prayer, yoga, meditation, etc.) and my spiritual side gets fed. Sometimes I seek out community and look after the part of me that needs connection and relationships. And sometimes? Well, let’s face it – sometimes I ignore everything and just indulge in all of the things that I know are unhealthy because I just can’t seem to get myself out of a rut.
At rare times, I make sure I seek balance in all of the areas of my life that need to be fed. I’m a slow learner. Or – more accurately – I forget easily and have to re-learn so many things.
Today I was totally out of whack – cranky, tired, over-stimulated, and downright miserable to be around. And forget about accomplishing anything meaningful – it just wasn’t happening. I could blame it on my hormones, but I knew there was something deeper going on. I was out of balance. I haven’t looked after myself well lately – not my physical side and not my spiritual side. I’ve let both exercise and spiritual practice slip from my day-to-day routines, I’ve been eating poorly and not making any real effort to connect with the God of my understanding. I haven’t really even worked on the relationships that help me find balance in my life.
Something’s got to change. I’m setting my alarm for a little earlier tomorrow. A little yoga, some time in prayer & meditation, and a healthy breakfast – maybe if I start my day off right, things will begin to shift.
If only we could figure these things out once and for all and we wouldn’t have to go back over the same territory time and time again. But day after day, we keep on fumbling and hoping that perhaps one day we’ll be a little bit closer to transformation.
__________
As a side note, tonight my spiritual practice consisted of an hour or two in the studio, making another attempt at a self portrait. The first experience was so meaningful that I decided to try again. This time, I went from a photo because I wanted to attempt a picture with a smile on my face. Like I said to my friend Stephanie when she interviewed me last week, “art has become one of the most meaningful ways that I connect with God.” It doesn’t even matter if it’s bad art, because it’s in the doing, not in the result.
Updated to add: I did it! I made it out of bed for yoga, prayer, and a healthy breakfast! Taking it one day at a time and celebrating small steps. 🙂
by Heather Plett | Feb 4, 2010 | journey, Uncategorized
The wonderful response to my last post reminded me of two really important things about human nature:
- We all want to find our tribes – those people who understand us and don’t turn us away for being different.
- We all (at least I think it’s safe to make a generalization) feel like mis-fits now and then. NONE of us fit cleanly into the categories, boxes, labels, etc. that the experts say we should.
Isn’t that the great thing about the internet, though? We get to find people who understand us. We get to put out tentative little feelers and have people connect to them. (Yes, I believe that they are real connections.) We get to form tribes that might not naturally happen in the circles where we find our real live bodies. (‘Course, some of my favourite readers are my flesh and blood tribe – lucky me – so I get the best of both worlds here.)
Judging from the response, many of the readers of this blog feel like they’re the same kind of mis-fit as I am. Which makes me wonder – are bloggers disproportionately scanners and/or creators, or is it just that we tend to attract like-minded people and that’s what drew you to my blog in the first place (or me to yours – whichever happened first)?
I’ve been thinking about this quite a lot in the last few days. First of all, when I re-launched my blog on its own URL last week I found myself thinking “What is this blog’s reason for being? What makes it unique or of any value? Is it just a place for me to sound-off about my life or is there a deeper reason for why I’m putting this stuff out there?”
Then yesterday I was interviewed by my friend Stephanie for an article on women in leadership and she asked me some fairly pointed questions about why I put my life out there into cyber-world in the way that I do. What do I get out of it as a woman in leadership?
With all this contemplation and the fun interaction on the last post, I came to the conclusion that I am here because this blog has helped me find my tribe. I have found people to connect with. People who understand my idiosyncrasies and connect with me because they have idiosyncrasies of their own. People who value my stories and support me through the tough spots. People who will be kind to me and share their own vulnerability when I talk about personal stuff like breast reduction surgery. People who will cheer me on when I try new things. People who will offer different perspectives when I develop a bad case of tunnel vision. And (perhaps most importantly) people who don’t mind hanging around and watching me fumble through new art forms, writing, parenting, etc.
And in the middle of all that thinking, I had an epiphany.
I have found a tribe of fumblers.
It’s true, isn’t it? We are all fumbling for words, fumbling for truth, fumbling for beauty, fumbling for wisdom, fumbling for art, fumbling for friendship, fumbling for peace, fumbling for significance, fumbling for faith, fumbling for connection, fumbling for meaning, fumbling for justice, fumbling for hope.
I have always been a fumbler. I like to try new things, explore new ways of doing things, take pictures, paint things, write stuff, go on adventures, offer friendship, teach people stuff… but most of the time, I’m just fumbling my way through. I’m not an expert on anything, and even when I get recognition for things people think I know, I feel like saying “hey – I’m just a fumbler like you! I don’t really know what I’m doing, but you can come and fumble with me!”
This is not an expert blog where you’ll find advice on how to live your best life, how to maximize your assets, how to find true happiness, how to move past the blocks in your life, or how to make a pile of money the easy way. You won’t find ten easy steps toward ANYTHING around here (unless it’s tongue-in-cheek).
But if you’re a fumbler, you’re more than welcome to join my tribe!
There’s a great line in a Bruce Cockburn song that says “come all you stumblers who believe love rules, stand up and let it shine”. Hopefully Bruce won’t mind if I tweak it a little for selfish purposes and say “come all you fumblers who believe love rules, stand up and let it shine!”
If you’re a member of my fumbling tribe, stand up and let it shine in the comment box! You are all welcome here!
by Heather Plett | Feb 3, 2010 | Creativity, journey, navel-gazing, Passion
Sometimes I feel like a split personality.
Some days, I’m an extrovert and I get lots of energy from the people around me. Some days I’m an introvert and I can’t WAIT until I can hide away from everyone for an hour, a day, a week. And then, on particularly challenging days, I can flip-flop in a matter of hours – even minutes.
Some days I love my job – the leadership energy required to energize and direct a national team, the opportunity to talk to so many different people in so many different places, the creativity of figuring out the best way to communicate, to educate, to fundraise. And then some days I hate my job and all of the energy it takes and I want nothing better than to just hide in my little basement studio writing, painting, dreaming.
Some days I long to be a true urbanite, hanging out in a funky apartment in downtown New York or Toronto, eating at trendy restaurants, attending all the latest plays and art exhibits. And then some days (or even on the SAME day), I long to hide out in a little seaside cabin far from the hustle and bustle of the city.
Sometimes I think my greatest strength and interest is in writing. Other days I want to put more energy into photography. Still other days (or hours), I think I should focus on leadership, or art, or facilitating workshops, or…. oh the list is endless.
I’ve never fit any categories very cleanly. It’s hard to put me in a box. I’ve done oodles of personality tests, and almost every time, I end up different from the last time I did a similar test. There are some things that are fairly constant (like the fact that I suck at maintaining and organizing details), but I can flip-flop on many of the categories (especially introvert/extrovert).
I’ve done the True Colours assessment several times (and have taught it a few times too, so I know it quite intimately – it’s one of my favourites), and mostly I come out as an orange (innovator), but once I actually came out with three colours – orange, blue (relational),and green (scientist), exactly equal. (‘Course I’m ALWAYS low on gold – the details oriented organizer.) I’ve also done lots of leadership style tests, and they always show different or confusing results too.
It’s been a little frustrating, this difficulty in pegging who I am. I find myself envying those people who can so clearly say “I am XYZ and I know that I am motivated by ABC,” and in my moments of weakness I think “what the heck is wrong with me that I just can’t seem to figure myself out?” Trust me, it’s not for lack of trying – I’ve read lots of books, taken lots of personality type tests. I keep thinking I’ll be more successful at living a full and satisfied life if I figure it out and work to my strengths.
But here’s the thing – one of the other messages I’ve heard from more than one manager is that both my greatest strengths and my greatest flaws are two sides of the SAME COIN – my ability to see both sides of an argument, my tendency to be able to weigh both pros and cons, my ability to come up with lots of good – and often incompatible – ideas, and (too often) the resulting difficulty in making firm decisions I (and my team) can live with.
I’ve been reading some interesting stuff about the concept of “scanners” (people who have so many different interests that they have difficulty settling on just one), and you know what? I FINALLY found something that defines me a little more closely. I am a scanner. And then I was listening to something online about the different types of Wealth Dynamics (ugh – HATE that name) profiles, and heard about the “creator” (someone who is half-way between introvert and extrovert and who is better at coming up with good ideas than implementing them), and again, I felt like there was something that made sense. I’m a HALF-WAY person! Neither one Meyers Briggs type nor the other, but a unique blend of both!
Now – I know that these are just made up names, and ultimately, the categories don’t really matter, but after all these years of wondering why I didn’t fit (like a square peg in a round hole), I’m beginning to realize that my NOT FITTING is what gives me uniqueness, beauty, and strength.
by Heather Plett | Feb 2, 2010 | art, Creativity
The first exercise at last night’s class was easy. Draw a face. I’d had a little practice with faces while playing with watercolours and clay, and I knew enough about the basic structure (eyes in the middle, bottom of the nose in the middle of the bottom half, etc.) that I was pretty confident I could produce a face that resembled a face.
But then she pulled out mirrors for the second exercise. “Time to draw your OWN face.” Ugh. Really?
That’s where I’d given up drawing in my long ago (feeble) attempt to work my way through the book “Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain”. Attempts at drawing my face had resulted in dismal failure.
With a mirror clipped to my easel, I stared at the blank page, at the mirror, back at the blank page, at the mirror, again – not sure where to begin. That’s when it started – the wise-cracks to my neighbour. “Do we really have to be HONEST, or can we just draw what we WISHED we looked like?” “Maybe if I put in a few less shadows under the eyes, I won’t look as tired – or as old – as that face in the mirror.”
The truth is, though, I don’t really hate my face. There are other features of my body about which I could write long lists of flaws and weaknesses, but my face is… well, it’s not horrible. I rather like my eyes, and my smile is pleasant. Members of my family like to chide me about the fact that there are very few horrible pictures of me. They’re right – if I can say so without sounding arrogant – I’m fairly photogenic. (No, I didn’t say I was beautiful – just pleasant-looking in photos.)
But start looking closely in a mirror, start drawing every little line that appears, every shadow, every imperfection, and suddenly the truth seems a little different then you’d always thought. Suddenly you’re aware of the way your eye lids are beginning to droop, the way the frown line between your eyebrows has deepened,
In drawing, though, it’s best not to think of your subject as a face (or a box or a tree). It’s best just to see it as a series of shadows and highlights. Forget what you’re drawing and just pay attention to the way it picks up the light.
And so, once again, I got lost in the moment. I drew, and I was happy. The imperfections didn’t matter. The shadows were just that – shadows. The lines added character and personality.
In the end, it at least looked human and somewhat resembled my face. I like the top half best. The mouth and nose are a little pinched and cat-like and the neck should be a little thicker and shorter. But those aren’t flaws in the way I look, they’re just the mistakes one makes in the learning process.
But maybe there’s a deeper lesson in all this. Maybe the reason so many people are having plastic surgery is because we’re staring in the mirror too much, focusing on the imperfections, and not turning our gaze to the easel. Maybe we’re forgetting the values of shadows and highlights – of character and personality – and trying too hard to make things look smooth and flawless.
Maybe we need to spend more time focusing on the way that we reflect light.
Self portrait, drawing class #4
