For years I saw weekends primarily as time off work; they were the two days in a week I didn’t have to wake up early to get to work. It was all about work, even when it wasn’t!
Most of us define ourselves by what we do, so it makes sense to define our weekends in terms of work, i.e. being away from it. But does it have to be this way? What if we made a mental adjustment, and made Thursday and Friday our “weekend”?
I suspect those two days are pretty slow in most companies anyway, so why don’t we use them as time for reflection and preparation for the following week? We can still be active at work – we are expected to be – but we can also deliberately schedule fun time for the evenings of both days.
That would leave us with Saturday and Sunday free to pursue our own passions, with all office issues confidently parked away during the work week. Fun events on Thursday and Friday evenings would also remove some of the pressure to “do it all” on Saturday and Sunday. We can then invest the best of ourselves in our own projects in the first two days of our new week.
An added bonus is that making Monday the third day of the week – and not the first – suggests to us that our own projects are more important than our employers’ (as they should be). We must never forget that our jobs are just one means of expressing who we are, and reducing their primacy in our lives – by making Mondays day 3 – may help to remind us of this.
So try making Saturday and Sunday your first two – as well as most important – work days, and see if you make any progress on that project you’ve always wanted to work on.
He came in like a tsunami. He didn't have an entourage, but the energy he emanated could easily have come from 10 people. He was that charismatic. Naturally people noticed him - who wouldn't - and he lept at the chance to mix with adoring fans. He was like a cat that had just discovered a large bowl of milk - he lapped up the adulation. It was clear he was enjoying this, that this was what he lived for.
His partner, on the other hand, snuck into the departure lounge. I and my colleague wouldn't have noticed him had he not made a beeline for the bench we were sitting on, which was conveniently set apart from the other benches in the lounge. It was clear Don Jazzy thought exactly like Femi and I, though our professions couldn't be more different; we were consultants coming from a site visit to a client's factory, he was a musician cum music producer flying back home the day after a concert in another soon-to-be-forgotten city
Professions aside, Don Jazzy was clearly like us, personality wise. His partner was anything but. I watched Dbanj as he practically went from one person to the next, shaking hands, cracking jokes, laughing out loud, and enjoying being the centre of attention. Just watching him tired me. Looking back now, I can see how he managed to get Kanye interested in signing him up to his record label, when their paths crossed at the Dubai airport. I guess you could say Dbanj has a way with people at airports, and probably anywhere else, for that matter.
Don Jazzy's airport manner was more cautious, more introverted. He didn't speak with us or make eye contact, much less acknowledge our presence. He watched Dbanj work the crowd, and looked at a device in his hand every now and then. The contrast between the two celebrities couldn't have been starker. Femi and I didn't know what to make of it, so I did what I thought was the sensible thing - I tried to strike up a conversation with Don Jazzy. "Don Jazzy, you no go greet us?" I heard myself say. He looked up and let out a tired "Bros, I hail o," and went back to his device. That was as much as we were going to get from him. Meanwhile, the self acclaimed "Koko Master" was still dishing out love.
The best three paragraphs on a defining moment of leadership failure that I have ever read.
From Nicholson, Nigel. "The I of Leadership: Strategies for Seeing, Being and Doing" (Kindle Location 368 - 383). Wiley. Kindle Edition.
"George S. Patton was an extraordinary man – a US general of vision, great force of personality, tactical brilliance, immense personal courage and an esoteric erudition in the classics of ancient Greece and Rome. He first revealed his military brilliance in skirmishes in WWI, languished uncomfortably through the inter-war years and then came into his own in WWII as a peerless attack machine – disciplining and inspiring his armies to victories across Africa and in the Battle of the Bulge that effectively terminated the war in Europe.
So many leadership moments, but, tragically, one of the most defining – memorably captured by George C. Scott in the eponymous movie – took place in a field hospital where he slapped the head of a shell-shocked soldier hospitalized from battle fatigue, calling him a coward. The disgrace of the incident removed Patton from the front line of war for the best part of a year and cost him the chance of becoming the Commander-in-Chief of the entire Allied armies in the European theater of war. This also possibly prolonged the conflict by as long, for Patton was an attack dog – a force of nature greatly feared by the Axis powers.
It has been said that all of the most important of life’s battles are fought within the Self. This was Patton’s problem. He was larger than life; his Self was a neurotic and tortured organ, bound into his story of himself – his “destiny” as a hero. His personal vision was a source of magnetic power but was rendered useless when found shorn of the rudimentary forms of self-control that enable etiquette, protocol and correct behavior to be carried off without error. Poor Patton – his affronted beliefs triggered him straight into a monumental anti-leadership moment."
Professor Nicholson's book is a wonderful read for those that study leadership. Can't recommend it highly enough.
It’s an old saying The kind of wisdom nugget That used to get handed down From father to son Mother to daughter Headmaster to student Master to apprentice
It would not surprise us If you’d never heard it It’s too simple to trend on Twitter Too basic for Facebook conversations
And given your desire for independence Coupled with society’s growing disdain For things religious and non-rational As well as traditional relationship structures It’s unlikely you are an apprentice Or a student in awe of their headmaster And no We won’t talk about your child-parent relationships!
Dear Ys and Zs You have been given much Much more than you seem to realise
For example Universal suffrage, regardless of Gender, race, land ownership Keep in mind Women couldn't vote in Liechtenstein (One of the richest countries in the world) Till as recently as 1984
You have the internet And its multitude of social media channels You live in an increasingly global world That allows you to experience Different cultures And work in different countries You have tools to influence your governments From leaking stories on government excesses To taking to the streets to ask for change We your parents could only dream of these!
You have received much And we have expected much from you And in some cases, you have delivered But there is so much left to do...
You tell your personal stories On Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus But you refuse to truly listen to others’ And think you know all about them Even before they speak
You build barriers between yourselves It seems any excuse would do Class, race, economic background It's the human way, you say But somehow, we thought you would You could, find ways around that
Because we know And you know That you know more, much more About the sciences Physical and social Than we ever did
You are smarter than us So be wiser than us Don’t make the mistakes we made Like starting wars and arms races That whoever won Would eventually end up losing In other ways
Dear Ys and Zs These are just some observations On how you And all your “friends” and “followers” Can do much better There are a myriad other ways But you’re smarter than us We’ll leave it to you to figure them out!
“About to lose my breath
There's no fighting left
I’m sinking to rise no more
Searching for that open door”
“I Look to You,” by Whitney Houston (From the album “I Look to You,” released August, 2009)
------------------------------------------------
I started being fascinated with the twin topics of death and dying sometime during my teen years. What must it be like? What does one experience? What are the most common regrets people have? Questions like these began to intrigue me at some point. As I look back, I can’t recall why I developed a fascination many – perhaps including you, the reader – may perceive as macabre, but I do know my initial curiosity has stuck with me ever since, evolving into strong interests in philosophy, psychology and faith over time.
My initial interest in the "two Ds" (death and dying) led me – primarily through self-study, and also via required reading at university – to several books on the topics. The first of these was Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’ seminal work on the subject, “On Death and Dying.” I never got around to reading the book in full, but by reading summaries of it, as well as excerpts in other psychology books, I got a fairly good overview, as well as a deeper appreciation for the two topics. I still find it quite interesting that she was brave enough to write a whole book about both topics – subjects people typically shy away from discussing – as far back as 1969. I doff my heart to her!
Notable books that deal with the two Ds – directly or tangentially – and which I have read cover to cover include: Viktor Frankl’s masterpiece “Man's Search for Meaning”; John Izzo’s brilliant “The Five Secrets You Must Discover Before You Die”; Mitch Albom’s delightful “Tuesdays with Morrie”; and M. Scott Peck’s thought-provoking “Further Along the Road Less Traveled.” These are all great books, classics in their own rights. However, none of them – to the best of my knowledge/recollection – gives an idea of what people typically experience at the point of death; they provide information about what happens leading up to death, and also about what happens after death, but they are largely silent on the few seconds in between.
An unlikely fellow gave a hint of the nature of the experience within those few seconds – Steve Jobs. In an article released shortly after his death, he was reported to have said something along the lines of “Wow. Wow. Wow” just before he “gave up the ghost” (even the metaphors we use to describe these events are interesting). A man that had spent a major part of his adult life “wowing” others had been “wowed,” and the experience had been so intense he could not help but verbalise it. What “wowed” him? What had he experienced?
Another unlikely person gave an idea of what Steve may have experienced, but I only saw it after she had also passed away. Some have speculated that Whitney Houston used one of her songs ("I Look to You") to tell the whole world, in plain English, that she was close to rock bottom. I do not know if that is true, but I do sense that only someone who had come to viscerally appreciate their own sense of mortality, could have chosen to sing these words, and sing them with such raw emotion:
“And every road that I've taken
Led to my regret
And I don't know if I'm going to make it
Nothing to do but lift my head”
The lines that describe the seconds leading up to death may be particularly striking for those with artistic leanings and/or a strong appreciation for metaphor:
“About to lose my breath
There's no fighting left
I’m sinking to rise no more
Searching for that open door”
Searching for an open door. Sinking. Giving up the fight. The imagery that comes to my mind is of someone falling upwards in water (if that makes any sense), and hoping to find a source of light when they eventually come up for air. Played over a simple piano tune, her words stand out. The picture she paints (in my mind) is beautiful in its realisation of mortality, as well as in its surrender.
As neither Steve nor Whitney is around today, we are unlikely to ever know what each experienced at their point of death. We can also only hazard a guess about what Fatai “Rolling Dollar” Olagunju, a popular Nigerian musician who died earlier today, experienced when he passed away.
Part of me would really like to know, out of curiosity. But my curiosity is tempered by the belief that what one experiences over a lifetime is significantly more important that what one experiences in one's final seconds. And I need not speculate regarding what Rolling Dollar, Whitney, and Steve experienced and accomplished while they were around, flaws and imperfections notwithstanding. They touched our lives with the things they created. They stood up to be counted.
May their souls rest in peace.
In memory of Fatai “Rolling Dollar” Olagunju (and Whitney Houston and Steve Jobs).
PS. For those that have not heard the song "I Look to You," find below the video (from YouTube):
I was trying to hint to you that long-term results come from little steps, repeated over and over.
So you are as tall as you are for several reasons, some being that you have been breathing continuously all this time (which has kept you alive), you've been eating food and drinking water almost daily, and also getting rest (through sleep) most days.
Once you decide where you want to end up, the trick is to do things on a daily basis that will get you there. Make it such that these things become habits. Build your life around them. And surely, one day, you will find yourself where you sought to be.
It occurred to me tonight that the almighty three-word-phrase, when said and meant, should really be a statement of two related parts:
1. I love me through you - that is, being with you makes me feel very good, because of certain things about you (things you do, things you say, how you look, etc);
2. I will do my best to help you love you through me - you also deserve to feel good by being with me, so I will do my best to make that happen by saying things you like to hear, doing things you like, looking good, etc.
When one looks at things this way, it seems business like, transactional, and very unromantic (full disclosure: I have never being accused of being the romantic type). But bear with me as I develop this train of thought.
I was recently thinking about a very young friend that I care a great deal about. As I thought about him, a smile came to my face. Then the logical side of me asked - "What causes this? Why do I always seem to experience these emotions when I think about this friend?" So I began pondering.
I'll spare you the details and go right to the conclusions I came to: I feel this way about this friend because being with him makes me feel good. Not exactly rocket science, but let me explain. The nature of our relationship is such that when we spend time together, we both end up feeling good about ourselves. We like how we feel, so we seek to repeat the experience. As we do this we build bonds and develop a shared history, which makes it easier to feel good when we spend time together. This goes on and on, until it doesn't (life happens, distances lead to communication gaps, etc).
Sounds obvious, doesn't it? What is less obvious is why so many of us (myself included) seem to believe we need intermediaries through which to love ourselves. Why do we find it so hard to love ourselves directly? Why do we set up the game so we need others to trigger the biochemical processes in us that make us feel that sense of being loved? After all, it is not like my young friend sticks his hand in my brain and triggers whatever mechanism gives me the "love feeling." All the work happens inside of me, but he acts as the trigger. Why can't I reduce my dependence on him (and others) and learn to generate this feeling by myself?
The way we've presently set this game up, love becomes a crutch for many of us. Is it really love if we are too scared to bear the thought of losing those we say we love? If we get jealous and possessive, if we stifle their freedom out of fear of getting hurt? What if what will make the friend or lover feel good, will make us feel bad? What do we do then?
So to avoid love becoming a crutch, I propose adding a caveat to the two elements we started with, and it goes thus:
The name of the game is self-love, independence, and inter-dependence. If each of us loves himself/herself directly, then what others bring to relationships are extras that we can enjoy, for as long as those relationships last. There's no need to grasp and fear loss. We grieve if/when relationships end, but we do not mourn because we have lost love, but only because we have lost a lens through which to experience it.
That is the ideal state, and many of us will never reach it. But in striving to develop self-love, we may at least manage to live with fewer self-imposed restrictions.
