Failure to Execute



You don’t know what to do.

Oh, you’ve got plenty of ideas about what you could do.  About what’s possible.  About your dreams.

Or maybe you’re really, really busy – pursuing a hundred leads at once and reeling from all the potential paths available to you.

But somehow nothing’s really happening.  Nothing’s clicking.

And you’re either starting to panic, or, conversely, starting to think that being where you are isn’t really so bad.  You can hang in there until things start to change.  Whenever that might be.  Someday.

Who finds this familiar?  And just a teensy bit scary?

So, let’s talk about it.  Let’s figure out why you consistently step away from making your ideas into something real, shall we?

Falling in love with potential

It’s easy to be drunk with love about what’s possible.  “I take this job, and I can make a million dollars and become CEO one day.”  Or, “If I become a joint venture partner with this famous person, my life will be easy and I’ll become famous, too.”  And, “It’s not really that bad – I bet I can make it better.”  And we are so in love with this vision that we fail to see that the CEO is only 32 years old and not going anywhere any time soon, or that the famous person has staff that deal with “joint venture partners” (and there are hundreds of joint venture partners), or that the thing is not bad – it’s horrific – and is so toxic that hazmat is required.

The best dating advice I ever received was, “Never fall in love with potential”.  Had I ever followed it, I would have been saved plenty of heartache. But, after being bashed about the head and shoulders several times, I finally learned the lesson.

Today, when offered a possibility, I put potential aside and look at what’s at hand with a clear eye.   Does it fit with my strengths?  My values? My goals?  Notice I’m not asking, “Could it possibly, with a lot of work, pixie dust and spit, maybe fit?”  It either fits or it doesn’t.  And if it fits, that’s when I look at potential.  Does this opportunity allow for growth?  Is it fun?  Is it worth my time?

Loving the dream too much

Isn’t it nice to have a dream?  Feels so dreamy, and love-ly.  We can visit our dreamy dream whenever we want, like some personalized amusement park, and lose ourselves in all the possibility.  And we love the idea of the dream, and fondle the dream, and protect it.  But we never make one step toward realizing the dream in our lives.  The singer never takes voice lessons, the writer never types, the entrepreneur never starts a business.

Why?

Because the dream is perfect, and real life is seldom so.

If you’re a dream-fondler but rather restless, here’s an exercise:  write down a full description of your dream.  All of it.  Even the minutiae. Then go back through and pick two things – just two teensy things – you can easily do to move ever-so-slightly toward making the dream real.  See how that feels, try a couple more, and if you hit resistance, it may be because:

Execution means change

Let’s say your dream is to be a writer, and the teensy thing you choose is to start writing.  And maybe you even begin to call yourself a writer.  That might feel like a change. A re-definition.  A big switch.  People might laugh.  You might not fit in with your friends – they don’t even read books – or your family – who values brawn over brain.

Or maybe you grew up in a family that prides itself on academic and intellectual pursuits.  You go to a competitive high school, and all your friends are shooting for the Ivy League.  You go to a top school, and a prestigious graduate program.  All is as it should be.  But you’re not happy.  All you ever do is dream of starting your own landscaping business.

But if you become a landscaper, what will people think?  What will you have in common with your Ivy League friends?  With your siblings?  With your parents?

The fear of loss keeps you in a job you don’t like, being measured by a yardstick that’s not even relevant to your dream.  If you have a strong pull toward belonging and connection, you might hold on to the group’s yardstick because making your own is so scary. And the group might say it’s wrong.

Understandable.  Hard to shake.

But so worth it when you do. Remember: the people who love you will love you whether you’re a physicist or a landscaper.  Whether you’re a Regional Sales Manager or a writer.  More importantly, you will like you when you’re living your dream.

The failure to execute is the Big Kahuna of stuck.  Making your dreams come alive, though, is the Big Enchilada of happiness.  Go ahead. Start now.

The Simplest Solution


Ever heard of Occam’s Razor? William of Ockham was a 14th century monk who labored in Latin on matters of logic. His key observation, translated and traveled through the centuries, is called “Occam’s Razor” (obviously spelling mutated over time):

“All other things being equal, the simplest solution is the best.”

What’s this mean for your life?

When you have a problem with someone else: what’s the simplest solution? Would it be… telling Karen, who talks to Alex, who mentions something to Tom, who plays golf with the husband of the person you have a problem with? Will that approach solve your problem, or potentially make it worse? Using Occam’s Razor to cut away the extraneous steps, we find the simplest solution — talking with the person directly to handle the problem.

How do you know when you’re not using the simplest solution? When you find yourself saying, “I can’t”, as in “I can’t find a new job at my age because I’d have to go back to school, and pass that exam, get certified, and probably move to some new city, which would be really hard on John and the kids.” Rather complicated scenario, huh? It’s a solution which — surprise, surprise — successfully keeps you from doing anything at all. Can we discover the simplest solution? Could it be to find a great job that provides training right in your own home town?

Sometimes it seems we love having the problem so very much that we envision only completely unworkable, complicated solutions — just so we can hang on to the problem we say we hate (but actually love). It’s like: “I need a job but don’t want a job but want to revel in what a screw-up I am ‘cuz I’m not getting a job.” How can we love and hate a problem at the same time? It’s called story fondling, and it reinforces negative stuff and keeps us totally and completely stuck in the past.

Identifying the simplest solution is a way to cut through all the debris in your life and find a really good, clean place to be. The simplest solution is always authentic. The simplest solution is easy. The simplest solution is the way to go.

So, when you find yourself tied up in knots trying to find a complicated solution to whatever you face, think of good old William of Ockham and ask yourself: “All other things being equal, what’s the simplest solution?”

Story Fondling


Some time ago I wrote an essay on forgiveness where I suggested that “Forgiveness is when the hurt you’ve suffered no longer drives your decision-making, nor defines who you are.”

Believe me, I’ve returned to those words time and again. And recently I came to see that people who are stuck are often unwilling or unable to let go of the hurt they’ve suffered. They are stuck in the hurt because somehow it defines them in a way that feels, oddly enough, comfortable.

It’s the woman who will tell you, with great bitterness, how unfairly her ex-husband treated her. How he screwed her out of money. How he turned the children against her. How he cheated on her and walked away scot free. The jerk. When did this happen? you might ask, and be shocked to find out — it was 30 years ago.

It’s when your friend starts to complain once again about how intolerable her workplace is. What a psycho her boss is. How brown-nosing her office mates are. How favorites get recognized but hard work is never rewarded. How she has no energy and barely drags herself into work every day. And you’ve heard the same complaints over and over without cease for the past five years.

Being stuck — feeling powerless to change, not knowing what to do, fuzzy thinking — happens to all of us at some time or other. We have a problem and can’t seem to find a way out.

Why is that?

It’s as if staying fully engaged with the problem prevents people from having to come up with a solution. There’s a issue, poppets, when we love the story of our problem so much that we can’t bear to let it go. We’re “story fondling”, as my friend Martha Beck calls it. We love our story. We absolutely adore it. We hold it close, as if it were a tiny baby needing our tender, loving care.

But when we story fondle, we allow our problem to define us and shape our decision-making.

Which is the opposite of forgiveness.

And only prolongs the pain.

The only way forward, as you may have heard, is through. To get unstuck, once and for all, you have to stop focusing on the problem and start focusing on the solution.

You have to break up with the problem and start dating a solution. Or play the field if you want and try several solutions.

Sure, sometimes we fondle our problem in an attempt to understand it. And that’s important — understanding the pain can help us craft a solution that works. But 30 years of fondling? Excessive. That’s 30 years of living life in pain, and on hold. Which might feel safe, but is ultimately a waste.

What you’ve got, for sure, is today. Yesterday’s gone and tomorrow is not promised. Laying the problem aside and living right here, right now, focused on solutions — that’s the key to arriving at the most powerful point of forgiveness — self-forgiveness. Which is the path toward a vibrant life, worth living.