3 Interesting Ways To Size Someone Up

If you ever join my family on a weekend outing to the mall, or end up next to us in line at an amusement park, you might be surprised to hear how vigorously we judge the people around us.  It's true that hairstyles and fashion choices often attract our attention (we are human, after all), but if you listen closely you'll notice that what we are actually paying attention to and discussing are people's eyes, the expressions on their faces, and who they are with.  In short, we are discussing how "safe" they are.

Ever since my boys were old enough to walk, we've been talking to them about the idea of safe strangers -- people they could ask for help if they got lost.  Women, and especially women with children, usually top the list of "most likely to be helpful" candidates. Fortunately, we've never had to put their skills to the test.

In spite of our culture's negative views about judging people, it's actually a useful and rather important skill for adults and children alike.  Let's be honest -- it's something we all do anyway, and the ability to size someone up helps us determine not just who we can trust, but who we might want to spend time with or work with.

Maya Angelou, one of the great people observers of our time, famously said "I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights."  I couldn't agree with her more, especially about the tangled tree lights.  I was thinking about this quote the other day as I stood in line at the store, watching a mother with a cranky toddler, and was inspired to add three additional ways to size someone up: 

1. How they manage a child throwing a temper tantrum. 
2. How they respond to receiving the wrong meal at a restaurant.
3. How they react to finding a spider (or any other large bug) in the sink. 

Show me how someone handles a situation where they have little control, an experience that does not meet their expectations, and an unexpected event tinged with fear, and I can tell you a lot about that person. Also, I've found that when these things happen in public, they provide great opportunities to talk to your kids (once you're back in the car, of course) about how well or badly someone managed a situation, and how they themselves would want to respond if they are ever in that same situation.

How about you?  What situations would you add to the list?  Do you ever talk to your kids about them?

Broad Experience, or Deep Engagement?

You know how you get a song stuck in your head sometimes, and even though its driving you crazy you can't get it out of your mind?  Or how you can get fixated on something someone said, and you keep replaying their words over and over, trying to figure out what they really meant?  Well this week I've added a new category to my "types of obsessive thoughts" list:  Circular Questions.  This is a new one for me, and I've been going round-and-round on one particular question: 

"Is it better to spend your childhood, or your life, 

a little bit interested in a lot of things, 

or a lot interested in one thing?" 

I have the author, Paul Tough, to thank for this.  I've been reading his book "How Children Succeed",  learning how research is showing that positive character traits like perseverance, curiosity, and self-control are actually more important than intelligence when it comes to succeeding in school. Mid-way through the book he begins describing a group of middle-school kids who are members of a chess club at their inner-city school, and how they regularly win chess tournaments against kids from much more affluent schools, including some of the best high schools in their area, and even against some adult chess masters.  He attributes much of their success to their teacher/chess coach who challenges the kids "to look deeply at their own mistakes, examine why they had made them, and think hard about what they might have done differently."  In other words, how to persevere. And part of this perseverance includes hours and hours of practice each day, which means they have time for little else.

So here is where the question is posed. "Is it better to spend your childhood, or your life, a little bit interested in a lot of things, or a lot interested in one thing?"

In spite of what I had just read about the chess club kids, my immediate response was "a little bit interested in a lot of things"; kids should have a chance to try things out and see what they enjoy, to experience as much as possible.  This is certainly what I've encouraged my kids to do, and is what I've spent most of my own life doing -- trying something out, getting pretty good at it (or not), and then moving on.  When given the option of being a "generalist" or a "specialist", the former has always seemed the better choice.

But, it turns out that there's a very strong case to be made for specializing, too, even when you're young.  In the words of the chess coach from the book, "I think it's really liberating for kids to understand what it's like to be passionate about something. They're having momentous experiences that they'll always remember."  Right.  Passion and big experiences -- they're important, too.  The opportunity to deeply engage in an activity, to develop mastery, is rare these days when we're all called on to be "multi-taskers", where technology-driven interruptions and distractions are the norm.

So now I'm reflecting on my original answer to the question, and am rethinking it a bit.  I want my kids to have the experience of being deeply engaged in something meaningful, to push themselves and experience the feeling of accomplishment that comes from dedication to a goal.  

But... I still want them to experience as much of life as they can.  Is there a way to have both?  What do you think?



A note on the book....

Paul Tough has produced an incredibly-researched, well-written book that will serve as a valuable resource for educators and policy-makers.  If you are interested in education, educational policy, or character development, I highly recommend that you pick up a copy.  You will be amazed at all of the great information and insights.  

If you don't have much time, but are still interested in learning more, there is a summary version of the book called "How Children Succeed.... in 30 Minutes".  Just click on either of the images below to order through Amazon.

 

January's Life Lessons

February is the least favorite month of the year for many people, with the holidays well behind us, spring and summer vacations too far out in front of us, and the typical cold, gray weather hanging heavily.  But for me, at least this year, I'm very glad to turn the page on January and welcome February in. January was filled with an unexpected series of life lessons for me this year, and I need these slow days of February as time to rest, recover, and reflect. 

I started the year feeling physically not all that great, although I was optimistic and full of plans.  Unfortunately, my body decided it needed more of my attention and my health went downhill quickly -- I found myself without the energy or mental clarity to do even the simplest of activities:  prepare a meal for my family, run errands, read or write.  For several years now I have been struggling with what I thought was a not-so-serious condition that compromised my immune system, but ever-increasing symptoms toward the end of 2012 and beginning of 2013 drove me to seek out more information and help from other sources in the healthcare community.  Now, after several weeks and many appointments with MDs, naturopaths, and nurse practitioners, I am on the road to understanding what is going on (a little more serious than what I originally thought) and am working with a practitioner who I trust to help me figure out the rest.  

So, the good news is that over the past few days I've begun to feel slightly better, and even though (or really, because) I still have to spend most of my day sitting, my mind is clear enough for the first time in weeks to reflect on what I've been going through and begin to understand that there are some important life lessons to be gleaned from my recent experience.  The first, and most important, is that nobody cares about my health more than I do (nor should they!).  Yes, my family cares and my doctors care, but I'm the one who needs to push, and question, and drive, and push some more -- nobody else can do that for me.  My husband certainly tries, and deserves a medal for how well he has supported me, taken care of me, and even filled in for me when I was too weak or tired to do so, but the ultimate responsibility for my health rests with me.  Knowing what's normal for my body, educating myself, asking lots of questions (even when they are discouraged), and not allowing someone's strong opinions to sway me from what I feel to be true or helpful are really important.  

Which brings me to the next of January's life lessons:  healthy skepticism is, well, healthy.  If someone's opinions or recommendations don't seem right, even if they are an "expert" (actually, especially if they claim to be an expert!), you need to be skeptical, and take the time to do your own research, get other opinions, and ask as many questions as you need to.  I consulted five people from different areas of healthcare over the course of six weeks, and each one, without fail, told me emphatically why their diagnosis and recommendations were right, and why the other opinions I had gathered (and asked them about) were wrong!  Had I gone against my own judgment and intuition, and just stopped with any of these first assessments, I would be much worse off right now, and risking further and more serious health issues.  It turns out that each of them had a piece of the puzzle, but the person who is now treating me was able to see all of the pieces together (and identified a few others, too).

And the third life lesson of the month?  We are not built to live in a constant state of stress. Our bodies and minds are designed to help us survive short periods of fight or flight situations -- to kill the bear, or run from the tiger.  We are not designed for the non-stop, worry-filled lifestyles we all have.  This is not news to me, as it probably isn't to you -- magazine articles and other sources of health information are always warning about the negative impacts of stress.  And even though I've really tried to be aware of this and make healthier choices, I still have more to do, I guess, because the severity of my current health issues are a direct result of too much stress.  So, as I continue to recover, I've decided it's time for a whole new operating system. What does that mean?  It means living differently, from the moment I get up to the moment I go to bed; it means basing my thoughts and behavior on a new and improved set of beliefs and expectations.  I'm thinking about it as "reformatting my hard drive" -- loading a whole new operating system whose functionality and features I will consciously choose. There's no doubt this will require a lot of soul-searching and tough choices, but for me it's not an option, and I'm actually (kind of) looking forward to it because I know I will feel better, and I also know that my kids will benefit as well. 

As I've mentioned in other posts, both of my boys are very emotionally aware, and I've noticed how my emotional states impact theirs, both positively and negatively.  When I am calm and centered, they are much more relaxed and happy; when I am rushing around or frazzled from doing too many things, they become more emotional or quiet.  Whoever first described children as sponges was entirely correct, and I tend to forget how much of an impact the example my husband and I set has on them.  I'm hoping that the changes I make now result in our days moving at a slower, more peaceful pace (which I can already see happening), but I'm also taking a longer-term perspective.  The choices I make and tools I employ will hopefully set an example that the boys will remember when they are adults and making lifestyle choices for themselves and their families.  So, even though the weather outside is damp and gray this month, it's perfectly-timed for me -- I have lots of thinking, and even more resting, to do!

If you are not your own doctor, you are a fool.

~  Hippocrates (c.460 - 400 BC)

The Signal and the Noise

Have you ever wondered why you are so exhausted after an expedition through Costco or Home Depot?  If you're like me, going into one of these box stores for even one or two items zaps your energy faster than any sleeping pill on the market.  If we could bottle this effect, we would have a nation of very well-rested people!  For years now I've just accepted this post-shopping lethargy as a fact of life without really understanding why it happens. Until recently.

A few weeks ago I was watching an interview with a man who shadowed Barack Obama for several weeks as part of the research he was doing for a book about the President.  During the interview he mentioned that Mr. Obama intentionally only wears navy or gray suits because he has so many important decisions to make each day, he wants to reduce the amount of energy he spends on less-critical choices.  At this moment it dawned on me that all of us have a limited amount of decision-making energy, which is why shopping can be so exhausting -- even on a quick trip through the store, we make hundreds of small decisions both consciously and unconsciously:  What part of the store am I heading toward? Should I grab a cart? Oh, light bulbs are on sale -- do I need some?  How many do I have at home?  Is this the right aisle?  And so on, so that by the time we return to our cars, we are entirely drained!

Great! Mystery solved, right?  Yes, but then I started wondering about the total number of decisions I make on a typical day, and decided to try to count them one day.  So how many did I make?  No idea. I was so worn out from counting after the first hour, I gave up the quest.  But upon reflection I did learn one thing -- most of the decisions I was spending my energy on are really unimportant. I mean really unimportant.  Should I get dressed now or after I eat breakfast?  Does this box go into the garbage or recycling? Do I want strawberry or raspberry yogurt?  And the learning didn't stop there, because I also realized how much worrying was involved in many of these decisions.  In short, there's a whole lot of noise in my head all day about things that don't matter.

So now I've made another decision:  I will minimize the number of decisions I make every day and stop worrying that some sort of calamity will occur if I don't manage every last detail of our lives during every moment of every day.  These details are just the "noise" that distracts me from the "signal"  (to borrow from Nate Silver's book title "The Signal and the Noise"), or what is really meaningful.  I am freeing myself from small decisions and worries, which will allow me to be more present and available for the big ones. How will I do this?  I'll keep you posted -- I'm still deciding...