Some Perspective for 2011
Posted on January 04, 2011 by Tom Patterson, One of Thousands of Leadership Coaches on Noomii.
It's easy to get mired in the little stuff, and lose sight of the big stuff.
Several years ago I read a submission to…I’ll call it, “Dear Gabby,” written by a woman who had been deeply offended by something that happened to her one evening. I can’t quote her letter verbatim, so with apologies to “Gabby” I’ll do my best to paraphrase it from memory:
“Dear Gabby,
At a very important dinner party in Georgetown last week, I suffered the ignorance of a wait staff that clearly should have known better. When I had finished eating my meal, I lay my knife and fork diagonally across my plate, sending a clear signal that my plate should be removed from the table. I was forced to sit there for several minutes while the wait staff did nothing. I finally had to say something. Gabby, please help! Am I not correct in believing that when the utensils are placed across the plate, as mine were, it means that my plate is to be removed forthwith?
Signed,
Distressed in D.C.”
I guess “distress” must be a relative term. And, okay…I can admit that I’ve felt “distressed” when I hit too many red lights in the course of a day, couldn’t get my computer to cooperate with a download, or my bluetooth ran out of its charge. But when I stop, take a step back (often at the encouragement of my wife or son), and consider how horrible these occurrences really are in the grand scheme of thing, I regain some perspective.
The way I lose my perspective (and perhaps you can relate to this) is by focusing in too closely on some aspect of my life so that my progress – or lack thereof – takes on too much significance. If I pause, step back, take in the bigger picture, and regain a sense of perspective, these smaller things look entirely differently. If my whole world is dinner parties, then inattention to the signals my utensils are sending takes on huge significance.
I’ve always been struck by the way Helen Keller “looked” at the world. From the age of 19 months, she lost her sight and her hearing (as a result of either scarlet fever or meningitis). Imagine being unable to see and unable to hear – the two senses we rely on the most. Check out what she wrote:
“I, who cannot see, find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower and discover its remarkable convolutions and something of the miracle of nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I’m very fortunate, I can place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. At times, my heart cries out, longing to see these things. But if I can get so much pleasure in mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight? Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action which fill the world are taken for granted. It is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience, rather than as a means of adding fullness.”
(From an article in the Atlantic Monthly – 1933)
As you can see, this isn’t exactly an article on executive coaching. It is, however, a wish for you (and for me) at the beginning of this New Year to remember to pause, take a step back, take a deep breath, reflect on the bigger picture, and re-engage each new day in your life and in your work in a way that celebrates the gift of life.
