Why is Reality a Hard Sell? 3 Questions

While I was studying athletic training at Temple University, one of my mother’s friends came up to me and asked, “Hey Rob, what can I do to get rid of this?”, flicking her triceps fat, while eating a donut.  Hmm.  Very attractive.  As I got into the real answer, she interrupted me with, “No, I just want to get rid of this”.  Again, with the flicking of the fat.

She wanted the result; the destination without the journey. I couldn’t help her, because well … I’m not a warlock.  And even if I was able to do magic, there was much more to it than flabby triceps.  She would have looked very odd.  Funny though.

The thing is … there’s very little value in the result without the journey.  Fantasy is a cheap sell and after its purchased, whatever little value it had, is quickly diminished.

Three questions:

Why is the buying and selling of the fantasy so easy?

Because, reality is not easy.  It’s hard to sell hard.

The fantasy is wearing $90 yoga pants at the mall, while drinking a smoothie with a wrist full of mala beads.  It’s taking a selfie at the top of Mount Everest.  It’s six-minute abs, how to become a millionaire in three easy steps, and a guaranteed black belt with payment in full.  Easy money.

Why is reality such a hard sell?

Because its packaged wrong; focusing on the destination, instead of the journey.

Sell the journey, not the destination and package difficulty as something desirable.  The real rewards are in the climb, even if we don’t reach the summit.  Through effort, pain, strife, focus, determination, introspection, practice, training, breathing, and going inside ourselves, seeing who we are, we’re rewarded with some very rare knowledge.  We gained wisdom, we didn’t die, we’re fitter and more flexible, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  And as a byproduct; yeah, maybe we summited.  Maybe we became a martial artist, became a yogi, and even uncovered those abs.

Should either one be sold at all?

No.

When the value of the journey is presented well enough, people will buy.  No one likes to be sold, but we all love to buy.

Buying reality takes acknowledgment of the truth.  The truth of what is.  Reality is freedom, self-awareness, and empowering.  It can hurt and it can abolish pain. It can bring us through the sadness to true happiness.  Its not always easy, but the rewards are real.  It’s an amazing place, but it’s not for everyone.

Don’t try to sell everyone.  But, for those who are ready to take the journey, let them buy.

Photo by Michael Clarke on Unsplash

Trust: What’s the Matter?

Trust is not something that can be earned.  It is only given or lost.

In the movie, A League of Their Own, there’s a scene at the train station where Jon Lovitz is waiting for two dairy farm workers, played by Gina Davis and Lori Petty, to get on the train.  They’re reluctant to board and so Lovitz’s character says, “See, the way it works is, the train moves, not the station.”

The train moves, not the station!  That one gets me every time.

It kind of works the same way with trust, if trust is the train and the person is the station.  The train can only be let go (given) to go where it has the potential to go.  That’s what its built to do.

Maybe the train goes off the rails.  Maybe it breaks down.  Maybe.  But, mostly it takes everyone where they need to go.  To do that, it must be let go from the station.  Trust must be given.

If the train had to be inspected, over and over again; checked and re-checked as if having to prove its worthiness and never actually let go from the station, because no matter what it does while sitting there ever earns actual trust, it goes nowhere and does no one any good.  And the train deteriorates.

The train would never be able to become what it needs to be, do what it was meant to do, without being given trust.  It can’t prove a damn thing sitting at the station, one way or the other.

When someone says, “you have to earn my trust”, it means they don’t trust you.  It does.  I mean you either do or you don’t and if we haven’t “earned” it yet (as if it would happen sometime in the future), it doesn’t exist now.  So, no trust.

We either give someone our trust or we don’t and if we don’t, we don’t trust them.  It’s just the way the math works.  And that’s okay, depending on the circumstances.  There are things to consider, of course.  But that train (employee, partner, spouse, friend, etc) will never perform at its greatest potential if not trusted to leave the station.

Like most things, we can’t give trust if we don’t have it.  If we don’t trust ourselves, how can we trust others?  We can’t give something we don’t have.  Maybe we need to be honest with ourselves.  If someone broke our trust, it hurts; emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, physically, and even financially.  But, that was that person, not everyone else.  And when someone breaks our trust, especially in the worst ways, the real damage is on them.  I know it doesn’t seem that way and maybe they don’t even feel it.  But, their soul does.  It’s just a bad train.

And let’s not confuse trust for competency.  That train will not take me to the door step of my destination.  It doesn’t do that.  My trust is that it will do what it does; stay on the rails and take me to my destination station.  Nothing more, nothing less.  I’ll need an Uber to take me from the station and hmm, let’s see; get into a stranger’s personal car …

But we do it every day, don’t we?  It’s a matter of trust.  Trust that is given.

Photo by gavin_s_wilson on Instagram.

Threshold of Happiness

There I was, seat 21D, flying home from my annual performance review.  I got a nice bonus and was feeling pretty good.  I was surrounded by a group of people who worked for a large corporation and apparently they had a damn good year, considering this conversation: “I got a Porsche.  What am I going to do with a Porsche?  I don’t even like Porsches.”  “I got a Harley and I’m not a motorcycle guy.  Not sure what to do with it.”

Those two guys seemed to work it out; agreeing to trade the Porsche for the Harley.  Seemed a bit uneven to me, but whatever.

I got to thinking about my “nice” bonus.  A minute ago, I was feeling pretty good, but now, the whole Porsche/Harley thing.  There was a cacophony of conversations among this group throughout the flight, comparing bonuses, goals, expense budgets, and quotas.  Then about stress, pressure, bad management, and a negative culture.  I just listened and observed without intention or thought.

As I drove home from the airport, I didn’t even put music on.  I usually sing.  Feels good.  Hey, I’m not bad.  I kill it on Rockband.  It was dark and I had that thousand-yard stare. Quiet.  In bed, I wondered what their lives were like and replayed that scene on the plane in my head.  I woke up in a nice house with an awesome family; coffee brewing.  Home.  Feels good.

Is it a step down to take a position in another field, another company, or another career path that pays less?  Many would say, “yes”.  But what if this new path meant a better culture, a better atmosphere, less hours, or just made us happier through fulfillment, purpose, or passion?  What if it gave us more time to spend with our family or to pursue other endeavors that fed our soul?

“Ha!  Culture doesn’t butter the biscuit.  Atmosphere doesn’t pay the mortgage.  Less hours?!  Do you know what kind of responsibilities I have?  What pressure I’m under?”

Yep; social pressure.  A responsibility to the perception of our portrayal of self and status.  A job that pays less, a smaller house, and forgoing that Porsche for a Durango in this social construct seems outwardly, like a step down; a step backward.  What will people say?  Worse yet; what will they think?

Well … that’s on them, isn’t it?  Ah, if it were only that simple.

Mmm, but it is.  It’s not about work/life “balance”, as we like to say.  It’s about quality of life itself, deep and wide.  Hey, I like nice shit as much as the next guy, but there’s a threshold.  A threshold that maybe we trip over or never notice.  A threshold where we sacrifice spaghetti and meatballs with family in the living room for filet mignon with “important” clients at 7:30pm on a Tuesday.

Sure, there are exceptions to what I’m saying: entrepreneur trying to get a foothold; a family trying to get a leg up; a student trying to pay their way through school.  Done all three of those examples and there are many others, but I’m talking about that threshold.

How about this from The Fixx:

“So, give me your attention, I know it’s getting late.

While we were dreaming, something slipped away.

We’re drowning in possessions, playing tricks with our minds.

Lost from one another, baby put your hand in mine.

Time is slipping away, but it’s not too late.

How much is enough?”

The pursuit of happiness?  What about being happy in our pursuit?  Maybe stepping back across that threshold is not a step back or down, but really a step up for the right things.

I don’t know.  Just asking.  For a friend.

Photo by Robert J. Soper on Unsplash

The Tao of Culture

There are a lot of corporate mission statements that mention things like, “honesty”, “social responsibility”, and “quality”.  Using the word “Quality” is like saying “Character”.  It’s just an empty word without an adjective.  Maybe your quality sucks.  Maybe you’re an asshole.  Why are you being so vague?

And … do you really need to have “honesty” in there?  I mean, let’s hope you’re honest, right?  There are also many statements that finish like this example from GM: “… and our stockholders will receive a sustained superior return on their investment.”  Okay … sure, but who’s this statement for, again?

Our personal culture should be just as … wait, actually more important than corporate culture.  But, we must be honest with ourselves and live true to our nature.  This is authenticity.  In Yoga, we know it as “Satya”.

Corporate, as well as personal culture comes from the top and from within.  Things work well when there’s truth and authenticity.  It will speak for itself and if you do it right, you don’t need a mission statement.  It will be apparent.  It’ll also be apparent if you do it wrong.  In the 21st century, things are more transparent than we’d like them to be.  We won’t fool anyone by saying one thing and living another, especially ourselves.

Pretentiousness is an ugly thing.  But, authenticity is beautiful.  It’s a way of being, not of merely knowing.  It is the Tao of our culture.

If the corporate culture is one of growth, authenticity, positivity, human engagement, care, support, and providing value, then profitability happens as a byproduct.  It must be real and it must be throughout.  No bullshit, backhanded compliments, or caveats.  This is true of our personal culture as well.

Besides, it’s much better than being driven through fear tactics, micromanagement, undermining, drama, volatility, and negativity.   That’s just not good for the soul.

Spoiler alert: Companies are in business to make money.  Yep; thanks.  But, it’s much better when the dog wags the tail; not the other way around.  More natural that way.

Peace, peeps.

Photo by Benjamin Child on Unsplash.