jalléCafe

Life's message of the month

My theme for June (or at least the first week of it) seems to be art & creativity. 

I know this because of how art kept throwing itself in front of me in unexpected ways last week.  On Monday, a man on the train from Basel (where ArtBasel is underway) gave me a colorful artist's exhibit book from Foundation Beyeler because he didn't want to carry it on to Paris. 

Tuesday, my graphic designer shared her lovely, authentic ideas for a visual blog that I hope she will pursue.  Wednesday, non-blogger Sandra sent an invitation to her own painting exhibit in August. 

As I walked home Thursday much later than usual, I found this lovely "light art" demonstration wrapping a building on a busy corner near my tram stop.  By Friday morning, I had the message! CREATE, BE COLORFUL, EXPRESS YOURSELF 

And so, this weekend I wrote and wrote and wrote.  My own paintbrush is pen and paper, often expressed later in a workshop or on this blog. What's yours?

Recognizing signs of growth, personal and professional

I want to take a jog or at least a walk. But it's raining on this gray Sunday afternon. And it's between World Cup soccer matches.  What can I do creatively to wait it out?  Blog! 

On Friday, reaching a weekend pause in the second of three fun, intensively scheduled weeks, a new arrival in the studio surprisingly made me feel more like a real business owner: a professional printer/copier/scanner/fax machine.  I had been getting by on my store-bought printers so far.  But as I increasingly must print volumes of workshop materials fast, I needed an upgrade.  Funny, the unexpected symbols of growth.

The day itself unfolded in what I've adapted to as the typically hectic pace of entrepreneurship. As the printer arrived, so did a new employee (well, freelance on her way to being one I hope) to pick-up materials for next week. I simultaneously waited on my landlord for coffee and twice postponed both my lunch and a meeting with colleagues at Gibbs & Soell downstairs because the technician needed longer to train me on the new equipment. Received three phone calls about the Professional Women's Group event next week and somewhere in there finished the summaries from last week's workshop in Argentina, final details for one next week, and agendas for new ones in North America in July.

A new-found maturity has been growing since I moved into this office space. For the business and in me. I recognize I'm living something I dreamed and that it's up to me to enjoy the chaos, the opporutunities, the challenges and still show the woman who I want to be through it.

It all makes me step back calmly sometimes right in the middle of stress and simply smile, then move on with spirit. Now that's a woman I didn't always see in the past when I felt stress. She's surely a welcome arrival.

As is the current pause in the rain on this fast escaping Sunday afternoon. I'm off for a jog with a smile.

Knowing what you want, now

As I strolled by my favorite urban garden (now fully a winter scene) a few days ago, I felt a moment of clear desire to be somewhere warm and sunny. Now.

Fortunately I'll have that opportunity soon.  Through my job. Yet, I wasn't sure I wanted it really.

Then while eating french fries over lunch, I made a quick list of where I'd traveled during the last five years (you know, the years when "I haven't been traveling nearly as much as I used too"), which included four major regions, eight countries and more than 24 cities. 

I had often stayed an extra day or visited friends to see what was around. Mostly easy with preplanned hotels, drivers, restaurant ideas, etc. I've been lucky to do it.

The trips I remember most were with friends and colleagues I knew well.  Experiencing things together in the local places with people who lived there. Having trouble deciding what to eat, the way to somewhere, how to simply find a beer. Getting tired, disagreeing if something was the best route, food, or place to stay. Laughing about it all eventually when the "momentary crisis of choice" had passed. Standing in awe at the drama or beauty of something you ran into that you'd not seen in real life before.

What I want in life seems to have evolved and become more messy.  I love that!

Simple pleasures of winter

I know I tend to make my own life complicated.  I seem to always want to try the next new thing.

This year, I'm trying to slow down and focus on doing one good thing at a time. I want to figure out what "living simply" means to me.

Last Sunday, not your classically beautiful sunny mountain day, I took a simple walk with a friend. Cold, damp, a little windy at the top of the hill.

And still beautiful.  Enjoying a good conversation, a little movement. A slow winter day.

Finding directions

How many people have asked you so far this year if you made any New Year’s Resolutions?  I try to avoid this question because when I have to truthfully admit I write new goals every December, I just don’t want to hear the groans and huffs of “Oh of course you would!”

Truth is, I gave up a long time ago on setting personal goals in the business sense of the word.  Mine aren’t smart.  They often aren’t quantitative.  In business, we set goals in alignment with a strategy given to us. Then it’s easy.

In life, I think it’s much harder to set the direction.

My “goals” are really “directions.” For example this year, “Long table attitude” means remember to invite people to share with “spirit & heart” together personally and professionally.  “jallé Studio concept” means remember to build my new office that I will take in February as a creative learning space AND remember act and work creatively in it.  “Private life lived. Period.” means don’t forget to live your personal life even with so much energy going into a young business.

Anyway when I look at the bigger picture, I think times in my life evolves through themes.  A few year’s back it was “restructure.” Then came “make the transition,” followed by “settle in.”   This year feels like “build."

Once I "get" the theme, the details seem to sort themselves out after a while.

And I will need to remember to write 10 instead of 09.

When the "living" ain't easy

These last few weeks, I've felt really fortunate to have reached a few milestones to round out the year:

• As of last Thursday, the entire Six for Yourself Program Autumn 2009 B Series was completed with a quite an enjoyable group of participants.
• As of Monday, I had my plans and budget for next year (nearly) sorted out.  More to follow on that.

And especially yesterday, after three years of talking about it, our Executive Committee for the Professional Women's Group of Zurich launched a new web site.  We announced it during our holiday party while eating fondue and raclette around an ice skating rink. (No that is not me or anyone else I know skating, BTW! Stock photo...)

It all felt great... until this morning when the links didn't work and a dozen alert members emailed quickly to say so.

After several phone calls with a range of vendors speaking in a language I understand even less than German - IT - we got it straight. A myriad of return emails later, our members can log in with ease.

Now especially our PWG Communications Manager can celebrate a job really well done with a lot of persistent, enthusiastic work behind it!

Me?  I'm going to drink a gluhwein.  (And for the record, Mr. Ness, it will only be my third of the season!!)

Mid-life business models

Before the holidays, I had an instinct that I needed to read about how Starbucks started.  So I asked Mom to go to a big US bookstore and request the most "classic" book about the company (there have been so many).  At Christmas time, she brought across to Zurich Pour Your Heart Into It: How Starbucks Built a Company One Cup at a Time by Howard Schultz and Dori Jones Yang.  It's the story of how Starbucks was founded, published now 12 years ago. 

I didn't get to read the book over the holidays because Mom had dived into it on the airplane and wasn't quite finished yet.  She eventually reached chapters about going public, investments and business decisions, which allowed me to finally get my hands on it because that part of the story "wasn't as interesting." Thank goodness! Or I might have needed to fly back to Ohio for it.

For me, the entire book was interesting - an important read at a key moment in my business choices. I felt I gained a little mentoring from Howard.

Among the aspects that kept coming back to my mind was a question: Why don't I have this passionate vision to grow big fast like Schultz did?  Am I lacking something in the entrepreneurial spirit?

A few weeks later, I figured it out for myself while writing at 6 a.m. from my sofa.  I'm starting my business later in life - not my late 20's or early 30's but in my ripe old 40's.  I already feel the tug of life passing faster than I can enjoy it.  I fully feel the passion, commitment and persistence for my new Six for Yourself program.  My heart is going into it. 

It's just that at mid-life I've learned to dream about more than business. Still, I'm going to try to learn something from Howard and grow successfully by caring about one participant at a time!

Intuition and Mountains

Intuition, originally uploaded by jalléCafe.

Yesterday, I trekked again to Arosa for a walk in the mountain sunshine. (I've already shown you a lot of Arosa photos; so, I'll let you link to Flickr - click "Intuition" above -  if you want to see the latest!).

I realized suddenly, as I sat on a bench in the sun writing, that something I had once felt deeply and intuitively had really happened. I was being a kind of artist in front of a mountain.

This is the page from my Intuition Journal in which I said "yes" to the possibility that I could live more like my spirit and soul yearned to do. More creatively. That was 2002 far away from Switzerland. This is 2009.

I still do not draw any better than you see here. But I have found new technology that helps me express my view - the web, writing, photos.

And I now sit regularly in front of mountains and ask them what I should do next. They usually tell me. Exactly like this photo suggests. It needed practice.

Only one person really hears the most important voice

OK. I'm joining the millions of people for whom the 44th President of the United States is their blog topic today. 

Late last night, I realized unexpectedly the two things I liked most about our new leader:

#1 He smiles when the Ohio State marching band goes by in the inaugural parade.  Look at this!  I came home at 11:30 p.m. after a meeting of the Professional Women's Group of Zurich (which thankfully started AFTER Obama's speech).  I flipped on the TV, wishing I could stay up long enough to also see Michello Obama's ball gown (by an unknown Chicago designer).  Suddenly, I heard the Ohio State Fight Song.  I thought I'd started dozing off.  But no!!! There they were marching in front of the White House.  And Obama was smiling.  All of my favorite worlds collided - my college days where I first dreamed of being the kind of woman who could see the world outside of Ohio, Zurich which has helped me come near to that woman I dreamed to be, AND a smart, driven man whose perspectives I can respect leading our country.  Fantastic moment.

This little experience caused me to think of #2:

Obama is a man who, one day in his life, said "it might be possible that I can become President."  "It might be possible that I can change something important."  Sure many people would have said he was crazy and even arrogant to have such a dream.  But I'll bet it was a thought that inspired and burned unlike any other for him - maybe he could become like other people he truly admired, someone he would be proud of.  There are plenty of people around who would say "no chance."  You can always find those people. But thank goodness for our culture that Obama's voice said "possible" and he followed it. 

Obama's inner voice was the main one that counts.  Because if he had said "not possible," he would not have changed in the direction of that dream.  And he would not be now in some way changing the world. That's the only thing for certain about his Presidency.  He illustrates how the most important voice that says "it's possible" is our own.  For me, that is the best reason to like him.

Sunday starting slowly

You remember that one of my goals this year is to be more "meaningful" (i.e. thoughtful, creative) with my friends in the little things? I got to test my resolve right away this week when three people had birthdays.  Two of them big ones: 40 and 60!

My new goal means that I cannot just pop into a shop for flowers or a bottle of wine.  I have to think of an idea that fits the person and find it.  So between meetings and deadlines this week, I searched book and department stores for ideas. I found a couple of great books for me. Typical. :-) And I did buy and write better cards than usual.

It finally all came together over the weekend.  I managed to take just the right book to a party last night (at least it is one of my favorites by an artist I also have hanging in my home - Real Reason by Brian Andreas  The book I gave was Mostly True, which includes my other favorite Brian Andreas story, Waiting for Signs). 

And finally this morning, after three cups of coffee, the newspaper and a little email, I've wrapped the third gift.

Perhaps the goal should have been stated as "meaningful" AND "on time." I think I'll get started on February now!  (Well, after I finally go to the gym and...)

Resolved

Back to work week.

My friends all say this year the return was slower.  We had a nice long break.  Being back in the office feels like waking up from a deep, pleasant dream - gradually coming to consciousness.

Just before Christmas, I happily received my little red watch back by mail.  I purchased it in the USA last September. It quit working two weeks after I returned to Switzerland.  I grumbled something like "I will always buy Swiss watches from now on!" as I shipped it back to New Jersey for repair. It's not that special, but it's fun.  At least I had it for the holidays.

Thing is, I wanted to know why it stopped running.  I dug through the papers in the shipping package and found this remark about the problem:

"time keeping issue"

Helpful. Yes, it sure was a time keeping issue. The hands didn't move to show the time. But why did it stop?  Sometimes I have a time keeping issue when I cook: I can't always get everything to be ready the same time. Maybe I also need a repair!

I think our New Year's resolutions can be a bit like this.  Right now, for example, a lot of people are working on their "body management issues" at the gym. If I arrive between 6 and 8 p.m., there are so many people with "issues," I have to stalk a treadmill to get it before someone else does.

Happily, the repair process goes fast in January.   In two weeks, a tremendous number of people will have apparently resolved their issues.  The pace of the gym will return to the lower key buzz of regulars with no waiting lines.

But I know more than a nice, corporate-sounding phrase about my issue:  I had stopped showing up at the health club three days/week and stopped jogging 3 kilometers per visit. And meanwhile I often replaced a few of those fitness sessions with prosecco sessions among friends.  All in good fun, like my little watch. And like my watch, I need to be both fun and running! 

Any other idea is still holiday dreaming!  :-)

Snowflakes

My year started in the snow:  Zurich enjoyed a little surprise snow and ice storm in the early evening that kept me at home on New Year's Eve.  I finally journeyed out January 1st on a beautiful sunny morning to spend the day with friends (where I should have been the night before!).

Now I'm hibernating.  Nearly literally.  Slept more than 10 hours each of the last three nights.

Normally, I would take one of these snowy days to walk in the mountains.  But instead, I have this feeling that I need total relaxation and space for myself.  Warmth and blankets in my own place.

By tomorrow, we will all be back to work.  Our holiday conversations always included speculation about what the year will bring.  This is the second major economic downturn of my adult career.  The first one brought both challenges and personal growth - maturity - to learn how to make decisions for the longer term.  No one knows what this one will bring. I just know I need to take it with a steady pace, flexibility and somewhat stubbornly persistent optimism in the face of gloom.

I wrote my 2009 goals using a process that has helped me for the last decade.  I read through all of my 2008 journals, then listed about five lessons learned.  I looked over my goals from last year to see how they worked (if I achieved them AND if they were the right goals in the end).  I did OK really.  In fact, I'd say 2008 was one of my more full years in terms of strong personal and professional development. I noticed that it started with some of my most stressful - and high work load - challenges in a while.  Perhaps some of the good feeling includes the reward of having overcome hurdles.

My goals always focus on what I will do new or different. (I assume, for example, that I will still jog regularly and be sure to take vacations - old goals from previous years that are now habits).  There are never more than five (any more is a list, not a set of priorities).  Here they are in short form:

1. Launch a program in my business that I've dreamed of now for a while. It will be the most high-risk step so far because it is new and will not bring in quick cash.  But it's where my passion tells me to go. 

2. Plus, we'll aim for the next year of steady progress with my largest client, working with and building the team that is a genuine pleasure every day in the office

3. Reach 200 members in PWG of Zurich with all that entails

4. Be more creative with meaningful little gestures for my friends

5. Return to playing golf after a five year lull.  (Next after golf: learning how documentary films are made)

So, you can see that hibernation for me is not exactly inactive.  It's time to watch the snow fly and ponder quietly a little.  The New Year came in on a soft, swirling snowflake as during the first silent hours of a snowstorm, before the snowplows take over.

Stuck in the clouds

Just more than halfway to Chicago.  Admit I enjoyed two proseccos with lunch. But that was 3 hours and 2 movies ago.  Don’t travel much these days and barely remember how to do it (well, I did remember to wear easily removable shoes). 

 

I have a little time on my PC.  I’m thinking about my business at 35,000 feet literally and figuratively.  (Remember how many times during the last few years I’ve been happy to say I was NOT viewing the world while shooting through the air in a metal tube at 35,000 feet?) Today, because it is 18 months since the last time at this altitude for so long, it works.

 

I’m still in business.  That’s the first thing I’m thinking.  Real clients.  So real in fact that I had to pack during the hours just  before midnight last night because a workshop ended late. Good problem.  I remember enough about how to pack. What else I think is that it is a luxury to explore.  I have ideas since 2005 since I decided to dare this adventure.  I’m reading them now.

When’s the last time you compared where you are now with where you thought about three years ago?  When do we find time for this unless we are “stuck” nine hours on a plane?  J

Vision and long tables - continued

I promised a photo of my long table vision.   Sorry for the one day delay.  I had to figure out how to make it a photo because I actually pulled it from a magazine.

This is the perfect long table image for me.  I searched months for it.  It shows exactly the contrast between modern (check out the lights over it) and charm I feel growing in my spirit.  Beautifully long it is!  Yet unexpected in narrowness. You would need to sit close together.  Breathe on each other.  Bump elbows. Spill food.

I've grown to respect that images like these which appear in my soul and mind mean something.  I cannot always explain.  At least not right away. Two friends and I talked over a drink last night (at a long table outside, in a garden restaurant that juts into the river) about how important it is to be able both to invite people and to be a guest at long tables.  That someone always needs to instigate and organize. That the point is to make everyone feel warm and welcome.

There are no people in this image yet.  But I know they are coming soon.

Long tables

I have been thinking about long tables.

I thought about them last night while I walked in a coldish rain.

In July, undesirable chill.  Yet cool and fresh on my face.

I reached out to touch a hot pink hydrangea along the street (a hydrostahl, as a lovely German man tried to translate at a party over the weekend because we sought common vision of these old fashioned flowers he said he grows on his terrace).

Wet, strikingly cool bloom.  When was the last time I touched a flower in the rain?  I asked myself.  When did I ever do it?

I was thinking about my last weeks and months.  Lots of dinners with friends.  A lot of long tables with food and wine.  I found a photo of the perfect long table in a magazine while I sat backwards on the fast train from Paris that I will show you tomorrow.  I will also tell you why it is my vision for my life.

There were lots of long tables when I grew up. Picnics.  Family birthdays. Christmas. A good deal of food, but no wine when I was a kid.

And at work: amazing long tables!  Groups of 20 or 200.  Employee cafeterias, Italien restaurants with clients, board room style meetings.

Now I want a long table of my own.  I always gathered around them. Perhaps once I will gather them around me.

Change & Centeredness

I'm writing this blog during the second Wimbledon rain delay. 

The Euro 08 ended.  My preferred spectator sport continues: tennis, especially with its current stars. Roger Federer gains my favor: Swiss, classy, unbelievably poised for a young man.  And Nadal brings Mediterannean flair, muscles, macho.  What more can a girl want in athletics? 

It's raining outside my window.  Not all flowers and sunshine in Zurich. By last Friday, I had felt so tired from meetings and deadlines that I could barely think straight. I am fighting a cold passed on no doubt by an employee at the end of the week.  Spent a few Sunday hours in my office. Then at home on my computer.  

Sounds like the old jill?  Not for a moment!

My neighbors invited me for breakfast this morning that lasted until 1:00 p.m.  And I'm not packing for an early morning flight.  I'm eating roast chicken that I cooked myself. And finishing a book I started to read last weekend. And writing.

I realized last week that I have not moved, or changed jobs, or changed friends, now for a year.  Nearly four years for everything except the job. Can you believe that for me this is a long time?   What a difference stability makes.  What a difference it makes when your life is surrounded by people, places and opportunities you love. Like Zurich itself, I will never again take this for granted.

But I do hope Federer wins!

Memories of a girl gone by

This week, I made a rare trip to another country.  One next door: France.  I took the new fast TGV train from Zurich, which arrives Paris in just 4.5 hours.  Wonderful.

I taxi'd to the hotel, checked in, and by suprise, met a woman I had not seen for years but who I know very well:  the former business Jill.

I'd sort of forgotten what she was like.  She's charming in a way.  Smiles at receptionists and tips drivers. 

Like an athelete warming up for the big game, she goes through a routine in her hotel room before high level meetings:

Take little shampoo and conditioner bottles out of the toiletry bag with a razor and place them awaiting action on the edge of the shower.  Turn over the glass beside the sink and stack in toothbrush/toothpaste.  If there's a second glass, arm it with make-up brushes, mascara and lipstick.  Lay out the deodorant (the rest of the cosmetic jars can stay in the bag, but that one you don't want to forget!)  Check out the window for how the night can be darkened and how early the sunrise can be enjoyed.  Is there a coffee machine? Ah, yes, big sigh of pleasure. And then the protective checks: no visible phone numbers, check the double lock on the door, know where to find the safety exits.  Oh, and hang the clothes. Place glasses case beside the bed.  Make sure the earplugs are also in it should they be needed. See what's around to read later. There. Ready.

We went downstairs together to the restaurant for a late lunch.  I didn't realize that she'd followed me until she started to say she felt tired, stressed and happy for an hour to herself between email, meetings and airplanes.  I listened to her for a moment and then responded:  "Actually, my friend, I'm not tired.  I feel in fact quite healthy.  I like the reason I'm here and will use this time to think a little before joining my customer.  This lunch gives me a little creative space, but mostly I'm hungry and need food. Simple as that!"

We had a smile and a cup of coffee together.  I am glad she was part of my life for what I learned that brought me here.  I am also glad she has finally learned to go with the flow and let me try it a new way. What a big change - that after nearly eight years - I can finally now feel so clearly.

Change, patience and avocados - chapter 2

Not quite a year ago, I remarked about the true faith and patience required to grow a plant Asta's way - from the avocado pit. (See my July 2007 post Asta's Avocado Part I ) I did not show so much faith or patience myself when buying my plants already sprouting stems.

Some weeks ago, I learned the results so far:

This is my little "avocado tree" in February 2008. Now it even has some leaves. I still turn it from time to time so it doesn't lean to the windowside. And I had to already cut a leaf that did not look healthy. The pot looked in the beginning a bit too big (like my ambition). I gave it just the space that I thought it might need and nothing else. And in the meantime my little avocado tree looks more like what I expected. Let's see if it survives springtime and how many leaves it will grow.

You will see that my own gardening adventure - also started last summer - required more major adjustments. I wonder if the lesson here is that small steps taken with great patience can sometimes outweigh the fast ideas.  The tortoise and the hare again?  Hmmm...

Goal #3: Just when you thought I'd forgotten

My third goal is my business goal.  What to do with jalle and it largest client.  When I started the year, I saw separate streams of work.  I consulted with one; trained with the other.  I looked forward to building a consulting approach that could eventually be separated from my training.

The goal: "streamline" the offer of my business and "do what I know is right" with my time for my largest client.  I debated if these ideas represented two goals.  But how can you really have two big equal goals for one business? Intuitively and strategically, I find two entirely separate goals inelegant.  They should work together.

Then just lately over the weekend, I came to a surprise realization.

Now that I see how it works with a team, it's the consulting model that I find most effective and rewarding.  When you see a project through with a client and it works, it's satisfying to know you made at least a little difference.  This time last year, I believed the opposite.  That a consulting model was too energy-consuming somehow for little real influence on outcomes. 

Sure we cannot change the big wheels of corporate politics, but we can impact a few people positively - an increasing number of people over time. That's where they are working.  How they earn their livings.  Where they spend a lot of their time.

I have to admit it remains interesting to me.  A challenge.  A space for creativity in communication. 

Let's see how I define "streamline" by year-end. The exact path remains to be cleared.

So why do you suppose my symbol of this goal is a river (other than the fact that I've always loved rivers)?

2008 GOAL #2

I still seek the image for my 2008 Goal #2.  I initially had in mind a long family-style table.  Old-fashioned provencal French style with rough wood top and wrought iron or rustic legs.  The kind you would find under a tree in the summer while the host walks around pouring wine to a dozen guests, who are all of course smiling and eating wonderful food.  Then while I was in Zermatt, I realized there might be other style tables that fit perfectly and equally that it might be good to have a range of them in my life.  Like the long table here where people sit out in the cold drinking coffee or beer, self-served, not much gourmet to eat - likely a bratwurst with onion sauce and roesti - but equally fulfilling together.  I'm still exploring and collecting the table images.

Meanwhile, here's the point of the goal:  I want to invest more in the family and friends connections around me.  To be more conscious of the big picture of how I use my time supports my whole life.  I decided to try settling in Zurich exactly for the purpose of surrounding myself with a strong social and emotional structure.  Here I have already started to build important and authentic relationships.  The kind that get stronger with time, history and experience. When people ask my why I chose Zurich, I have always honestly said, the reasons are primarily emotional.

I now want to take the next step in that structure.  Find a home that feels more open to people coming and going, yet gives me my private space when needed.  Find and/or organize activities that also involve friends and family. (The last few years, I was still quite focused on making the transition to Zurich and getting my own business organized.)

By my age, many people have a family structure around them and are quite busy with children's activities.  Without that structure, I need to build my own "family style."

In business, I often think of ideas for groups and create environments that encourage good discussion while being yourself.  I want to apply more of that to my personal time.  My first step is that I accept more such invitations when they arise (I had a tendency to be "busy" in my own space sometimes).  My next step is to create that environment in my own home and life, which will mean diverting a little more time and energy in that direction.

Gone to the mountains

I'm on holiday.   I planned it to hike in the mountains.  To write a little.  To rest and relax.  I have done all I hoped.  And much more.   Unexpectedly, I cleared away some old demons.  Fears, I mean.  After 12 years, I got back on two slippery sticks you point downhill on the snow -- and liked it.  I might yet enjoy skiing.  Not that I did not feel fear.  I just also felt the reward and was willing to make the battle with my mindset.  And I took three of the highest cable cars in Europe to see an entire mountain range on a wonderfully clear day.  I nearly quit before starting that trip and again just before the top.  I'll have a lot to say about never saying never in life.  When I return...next week.

Vision & My 2008 Goals

This post actually began in 2002, when I wrote a five-year vision for my life and the changes I wanted to make if possible.  It expires this year (smile).  Time for an update!  I wrote the update over the holidays.  I once heard someone say about a vision, "Do you have one?"  "Does it show?"  That's how I feel about visions: it more important that it shows in action than that it be published.  I wonder if people could guess what was in my 2002 - 2008 vision?

Goals, now those are a different story.  They should be clear, written down, often shared.  I write them every year.  I've learned that when I write more than 5, they are not "goals," they are a "to do list."  (My blogger friend Helen reminded me of this as we walked together last Saturday.) And even with only five goals, the first one or two are usually the most important.

So here I share the first one and a symbol for it.  It's how I want to feel about my year at the end. The other four will come later!

1. Ensure I allow creative time to read, write and relax so that my mind and spirit can explore - 4-5 hours per week and one day for me per month.  This is part of who I am that I don't always take seriously enough.

When I really look at it, I realize that the hours I spend writing and reading are the hours in which I find my voice, my ideas, my next steps.  When, as during September - December last year, I let action lists squeeze out this space, I lose my centeredness, my best inspirations, and if it goes on too long, my enthusiastic voice.  One Friday night in December, my frayed edges showed such that I sat at my desk crying and simply could do no more work.  Or anything.  Fortunately, my friend Peter stood by my side to help me. (More on the friends and relationships in goal #2!).  But this is my responsibility in the end to manage.  I was surprised that -- even when living a lifestyle with no travel -- I let this happen.

So this year, I will find several hours every week, most weekends and one day a month for my creative time.  I will not work weekends unless absolutely required by deadline.  And I will write most days.  As professional writers all know, excellent writing results from culivating your voice via discipline, not just spontaneous creative pursuit.  I will blog at least once a week and I'm adding photos to the blog via flickr (more on that also to follow) because I think the visuals are an important part of the story and I want to add new ideas to the blog.  I will write the rest of the essays for my next collection (I wrote the first essay last August and outlined the rest...but there they halted.)  So for exampole, in February, I'm going one week to Zermatt for a writing sabbatical.  I found two special places I like around Zurich to rest, read and think. I will write also with my business partner, Sandra, because we have some ideas that need a voice, too.   Let's see what happens when I treat my creativity as a real part of my life that needs to be nurtured.

Pied Pipers

A friend reminded me this week that sometimes making a strong decision leaves you feeling lonely.

That's the peril of leadership.  And of following your own path in general perhaps.

Lately, a triad of such decisions converged on me professionally and personally.  Three Pied Pipers played lovely flute music, tantalizing me to follow their paths.  I realized after a while that the paths weren't leading anywhere I hoped to go in the long run. (I seem to need lessons in multiples from life before I actually catch-on.)

And that reminded me of my first encounter with a similar situation when I was a teenager.  A girl who was for a while "My Best Friend" suddenly became my competitor over a boy. I only realized late that it was a competition at all.  That's when I learned the  "Pied Piper Litmus Test."  If you try to get a little of a two-way path going -- and the Piper suddenly turns and throws the flute at you with the speed of a baseball or an errant hockey puck -- that's a 100% sure a PP. 

Back then, I fought back a little -- ironically with a flute.  We both played flute in the school symphonic band. She was first chair.  I was second.   Three weeks after I recognized the PP, I "challenged" her for her chair.  I won.  We had probably 20 such challenges through the year.  I became a much better flute player.  We never recovered our friendship. 

What I learned from that was 1) I have a steel will that when engaged can create surprising results.  She was a much better musician, but I could summon my focus and strength of discipline to overcome lesser talent at that age.  And 2) it's not often worth it to do so.  I don't even play my flute anymore.  Better I focus my will on my own path rather than proving I can make it on another one that I know I don't want anyway.

And lesson 3) some people will manipulate you when you truly are trying to make a good faith effort to do the right thing.  That's the hardest lesson for me.  I always think if I just keep trying to take the high road, the PP will get it and try to learn a little bit of my piano composition to go along with the flute.  Or that I owe somebody something based on principle. Or it's just that way in business.  Seems always to the peril mostly of my own stress level that I keep hanging in the game.

And so once again, having been reminded by Life three times, I'm finally stepping back onto my own path.  I know it's the right decision.  Maybe someday I'll become more discerning about Pied Pipers. But in the long run I hope I still see most people first as humans.

Time & Leadership

Continental Europe made the one-hour time change for Daylight Savings last weekend.  I loved the Swiss newspapers' emphasis:  instead of "gain one hour" or "sleep an extra hour," it was Sunday will be a "25 hour day."  Precisely measured.

I thought about that.  Do I really want a 25 hour day?  I suppose Sunday would be the best choice for it.  Many days during the week, I think I need an extra hour or two as I stare at an ambitious "to do" list.  But then the issue is really the former rather than the latter.  The over ambitiousness rather than the real value of working another hour or two every day.

My range of clients demonstrates the range of time leadership possible.  Some clients value time as a resource.  Others view it as something to simply be purchased.

Through the last weeks, I'm becoming more acutely aware that I put a value on time well above any monetary amount.  The wise use of time makes the difference between innovation and creativity and "just getting a job done."  Time squandered often impacts the long-term health of projects and relationships.

Where you spend your time communicates your values, priorities and goals.

My leadership goal for the next weeks will be to change the semantics of time as a commodity to be purchased to time as a precious gift to be tended with care.

10 Minute Blog

I miss writing my blog.  During the last few weeks, a new project swept me into a transition.  Uncovering new needs and needing to find new solutions.  I keep telling myself that it will be worth it in the end.

But where is the end?

Tonight, I needed to write.  To remind myself of the Voice I'm trying to cultivate.  I've faced a whirlwind of client deadlines, work processes that could do with some revisions, and people who all have their own emotions, reasonable desires and stresses.

This is a normal time in life. Transition.  Uncertainty about choices made.  Fatigue from the emotions carried.

  I cannot make everyone happy.  I'm a bit behind on many things personal, plus a few professional.  And so tonight as it rains in Zurich, I'm taking home Thai food after a little jog at the gym.  And I'm mentally walking along the sunny path from my apartment to Lake Zurich.  I hear the water that always soothes me. 

Tomorrrow will be a new day.

Required adjustments

Change experts always talk about the adjustments one must make when taking a new action.  Here's my required garden adjustment.  These lovely gold flowers add a splash of bright color in my garden box.  They reach nearly to the top of my window when you look out from inside; so, I get a splash of color there, too. They are healthy and apparently happy.

But here's the catch.

They stand nearly four feet above the tops of my other plants.  I read "one meter in height" when I bought them in their little pots last April.  My vision of a meter and reality did not align.  A meter is longer.  My mistake. Like magic, they sprinted up to unforseen heights.

I'll win no landscape awards for my box this year.  Too much contrast with one plant over-powering the others.  Next year, I'll have to decide: do I remove them in favor of shorter ones or do I add something that grows to a height in-between?  No idea yet. I have the winter to do some research.

Meanwhile, I'm accepting and enjoying it for what it is: my lovely-if-not-designer result.

Change, patience, and avocados

ASTA's AVOCADO

Asta and I knew each other first through a Women's International Networking Conference in 2005 (which she attends every year) and then later through the Professional Women's Group of Zurich.  Now she also participates enthusiastically in jallé Leadership & Learning Community seminars (and gives Sandra & I highly valued feedback).  After a recent Friday lunch dialogue, she compared her own experience of gardening to mine. 

And I told you about my "avocado tree" (what is really only a vision). My tree has even not yet real leaves. But I do have patience and am curious how far it will go or: how far I can make it grow (me and my not green thumbs!).

Unlike Asta, at least I already knew my plants had roots and green leaves.  I just waited for flowers.  Asta waited for weeks watching an otherwise dead-looking avocado pit to show any sign of life at all. Turning it and nurturing it when hope for success was not certain.  Now that's patience.  And faith. And something even more needed with humans, perhaps.

The unexpected rewards of change

Last Friday, I shuffled from kitchen to living room sofa with a cup of coffee at 5:30 a.m., trying to wake up but mostly sitting in a fog for a few minutes. By 8:00 a.m., I would be on my way to my SECOND appointment of the day. My meetings were scheduled well into late afternoon.  It was that kind of week. 

I glanced randomly out the window and discovered a surprise:  a single lily had bloomed overnight in my garden box. A first flower among the new plants!  Immediately my energy changed.  I grabbed my camera.  And for a few minutes delightedly enjoyed the reward of being a gardener.  At a perfect moment to help me forget my fatigue. 

I remembered that feeling all day. 

This little lily reminded me why to persevere through change and try new things:  because sometimes the best reward happens when you least expect it, charming you with a fresh energy that makes it all somehow worthwhile.

Creating a team voice

The new Executive Committee for PWG of Zurich has met now five times in three months.  We're still forming as a team.  Creating our strategy.  Defining what we want to be proud of when our terms are finished.  How this club can influence the community here.

It's been a lot of work for everyone.  Learning our roles while implementing normal club activities.  And trying to get a forward look into our future.  I admit that at first the workload has required more time than I  expected.  There have been moments when I wondered what I'd really agreed to in reality and if I could manage it with my business.

Yet two things increasingly inspire me about it:

1. The people on the team.  Such energy.  Rarely immediate agreement on any issue, yet an ability to debate and finally come to a decision.  Over time I want to show each person on the team in a photo that illustrates how I see them.  The photos above show Aurorita, Karin, Kim and Helen.  Personalities shining through.

2. We are making fast progress.  We have a new mission statement, organizational structure, strategic priorities and -- soon -- clear goals, already brainstormed.  Our website has already started to evolve.  We've published a newsletter.  Changed meeting venues.  And by month-end will have cleaned-up a database to make all of our activities easier.

I have a growing intuition that our time together as a team may produce those rare shining moments in life: the ones where you worked hard, had fun, and together achieved a passionately shared goal about something you believe makes a meaningful difference to others.

Hey, look what happened while I was doing other things!

I had given my garden box the best start I knew how last month.   Then the game became one of patience to see how the change would take root.  Meanwhile, I focused on other things:  my trip to the USA.  And upon my return, I found a leap of growth! No flowers yet, but I see little buds on the lilies (first green sprouts after the deep red plants).  I checked weeds and water. 

The next few weeks should be fun to discover what blooms.

Visions & first steps

On April 27th, I showed my cleared garden box.  Here are the first plants. 

I spent a lovely Saturday morning at the garden center choosing them.  The whole morning. It always takes longer than I expect.

Had some ideas about what I wanted based on a little past experience with my garden in Michigan: plants that bloom at different times through the summer.  Colors that work together.  Easy care.  Perennials.  I had to update that knowledge with what fits the climate in Switzlerand and the specifically very sunny location of this box. 

I like how the starting point looks.  Perhaps as it grows I'll see something to adjust next year. Now I spend my time protecting the young plants.  Watering.  Picking snails out of the box. (How snails get to this location two floors over the ground I do not understand!)

Yet I realize how far away this little box is from my vision of what I'd really like to do one day:  take a plot in a community garden like these.

That is my real gardening vision you might never guess from this little box. I dream of it when I take jogs along the garden fences.  Still probably years away. 

I am doing what I can now within the time and resources I have for my dreams to gro w both my own business and a garden. Learning to measure life quality in small moments and progress on dreams in months and years.

Favorite Quote about Change

I think this is a pretty good quote to start a Monday with a good spirit:

To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly. Henri Bergson

Warm thanks to my colleague Kellie, who thought to send this one to me.

Do People Really Ever Change?

I had a difficult conversation with a man recently. (No jokes here from my single women friends; not all conversations with men are difficult!)  But this man is pretty stubborn, I must admit.  He frustrated me.

When I said I was working long hours these last few weeks, he said, "See, everything always comes back to where it was -- work, relationships -- everything!"  He implied, of course, that I have always been and always will be a work-a-holic.  I told him we disagree.  Most likely, we were not really listening to each other.

If I had defended myself, I could have used my blog as an example.   I am writing this post on Monday afternoon and have scheduled it to publish later this week when I'm not by my computer.  That's because I am taking six days off.  Fully off.  No e-mail.  No work.  I DO still work with such focus and energy that I get worn down a little.  But what I have changed is that I see the warning signs -- forgetting small things, letting little stuff bother me, just plain feeling tired.  AND I STOP.  Change the pace for some days.  I spend entire weekends without a plan, a watch, a task list.  I take naps.  Sit in the sun.  And don't feel guilty.

When someone has changed or even tried, we should shout to the roof-tops "Bravo! You courageous, strong, wonderful human being!"  Every little step deserves our applause that a person has decided to believe in himself or herself the most.  Trying is hard, especially at first.  Always along the way we must make the choice to try again.

Maybe if I was really listening before I hung-up, I would have heard fear of failure instead of stubborness? "I don't WANT to change!" or "I am afraid I cannot change!" ? ?? ???  I don't know.  It was a man of a certain middle-ish age, and for us women it is really hard to tell the difference sometimes.  :-)

 

   

Live plants & change

Today, I finally put two real plants in my office.   I was inspired by the art I hung two weeks ago.  It all needed to look a little more finished now in honor of the beautiful landscape trilogy that a friend painted.

I'm also inspired by the fact that my five plants at home are all alive now for three years and -- dare I say it? -- thriving!  Since I stopped traveling and now talk with them more often, the plants responded. "We are happy to see you home once in a while!"  They show me new leaves.  They stand taller.  First time in my life my plants are my friends and not just slowly browning, parched reminders of too many flights.

Now here's the thing:  not everything else is inspiring.  On some things I just trudge along and do the best I can.  I finally also found a printer stand.  Kind of like buying a vacuum cleaner.  Boring to shop for and not something I really want to spend my money on or time doing. 

Lately, I've had a lot of long days with consulting work and marketing.  I've been telling myself every night when I'm tired that I did my best and that it is enough for the day. Enough to trust that life will help me with the rest.  And sometimes I still wonder.  I just don't know for sure how it will work out.  I wonder if I'm doing the right thing.  Did I do enough?

Yet, I think this is what I've done now for many years. (Longer than the number of years of the guy whose 40th birthday party I will join this evening.)  I think it is possibly why, after three years of trying to find "my" lifestyle, I discovered this winter that I finally have live, happy plants.

Taking each small step

Monday morning again!  I face it with a strong list of things to do. And 2 coffees.

In my business, we are marketing a new product.  Currently full-scale in client contact outreach to introduce it.  Three of us "selling" updated each other last Thursday -- conference call via my mobile phone while I sat on a train that left 10 minutes later for Milan (technology is amazing these days).  We wish we could make faster progress -- people on holiday this week (ski break for schools here), in meetings, too busy, etc. etc.

I constantly remind myself that I am enjoying the days as much as ever in my life and that the goal is, in fact, just that: to live all days and not just for work. 

In 2003, when I started the whole change that led me to today, I wrestled with much deeper stress over my father's death and my own disappointments. Uncertainty about how my future would work out...did I take a stupid leap out of a 16-year career or was I really on the right track? I wrote then, "I kept taking that next step.  Meeting the next new person.  Reading the next assignment."

I look where I am today, four years later.  My own business.  Lots of new experience.  Living in a place I genuinely love.  Keeps it all in better perspective. Short-term anxiety and self-doubt be banished...the beauty of change and learning and living for me has proven to be the way I feel when, somehow, finding the strength and the faith to take the next little step in the direction of something I value. It comes easier some days than others, of course. And can get lost in the busy-ness that turns so-called-beauty to stress. 

I am going to try to take my own 2003 advice this week.  :-)  Next!

Favorite Quote about Change

I found this quote on an index card over the weekend.  The card was dated 10/02.  I kept it beside my bed for some months when I started my year off of work to go to university.  It is still my favorite.

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind is part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter into another.

It's attributed to Anatole France, a French Writer.  When taking a look around Google for the exact book or piece it came from, I found another quote of his that I quite liked -- To accomplish great things, we must not only act but also dream, not only plan but also believe.

Wish I read French!

Starting a business

I am about to bump into the first year anniversary of founding my company.  Well, the official one on paper, which is important here in Switzerland:  jallé GmbH was listed in the Handelsregister on December 20, 2005.

   

Really, I’ve bumped into memories of the emotional stress I went through last year when implementing this new direction.  Although months earlier I heard my inner voice say I truly wanted to start my own business, I spent a while doing the intellectual homework of trying to talk myself out of it or make it feel more safe.  Financial plans.  Action plans.  First marketing plans.

    

But the truth was that only the financial plan made an impact on my thinking.  And that impact was only to consider how to work around all options of surviving personally through various scenarios of how the business might develop.

                                                                                                             

So really, the decision was made.

                                                                                                               

I know the real decisions that strike my soul because they are the ones that I make absolutely, solely on my own in private reflection.  After some period of considering options, I withdraw from all conversation about it.  And then I somehow decide.  I did this when accepting my first job that required me to move away from my family’s home town, when getting a divorce, when moving both the first and second times to Europe, and when deciding I really wanted to try to build a business of my own imagining.

   

I usually take the first few steps on my own, as well, before telling anyone who isn’t involved in those steps.  It seems to be my way to ensure I’m committed to my own path and action before talking about it with people who will ask 600 questions.

                                                                                                         

And it’s that first step in implementing my new plan that always seems most scary.  Take for example the day last December when I resigned my job.  I remember hanging up the phone after talking with my manager and plunging into a deep, dark, mental hole.  What had I done?  Had I lost my perspective?  Was I so ungrateful for the good things I had already in my life such that I needed to throw it all away (again) on some dream?

                                                                                                         

I took a jog, drank a glass of wine, wrote a little about it in my journal and slept 7 hours.  The world felt better in the morning.  And then I could talk with others again.

                                                         

There are always the next few adrenaline days when I learn if you made a good decision for me. If the instinctive relief of having “got on with things” follows, I know am on the right track.  A good friend reminded me this week what she remembered about those days last year.  She said, “You felt less stress, lighter and happier immediately.”

                                                                                                         

The first months that follow my new path always include creating updated action lists every 30 days or so.  I’ve learned that this stage of action planning is usually more valuable as an exercise to structure away the stress when my mind starts to think too far ahead than as a process to follow a rigorously executed plan.

 

Normally, my early action plans have two big, related flaws: 

1.       I put everything on a timeline that is twice as fast as possible to achieve, and

2.       I try to put every little step in the action plan that possibly needs to be done. 

Shouldn't I know by now that people can only focus on the next 2 or 3 most important things?  That's why I think it is an emotional process.

                                                                                                            

The prioritization does help, but I experienced this year my fair share of days when my energy was interrupted by not knowing what will result from my new actions.  It’s a leap of faith that requires some emotional discipline here and there. (I’ll write more about this later.)

                                                                                                          

Fortunately, it has equally often proven true for me that about 6 months into the new path, I finally get the feeling for it.  I sense the real flow of action and connection with my true vision.  I seem to need to let go of the old and try a few ways with the new before it settles in and finds its own rhythm.  If I have to heal physically or emotionally (which I thankfully did not need this year), it takes longer.

                                                                                                

I’ve learned that, for my personality and approach, if I get the flow in about 6 months or so, I’m on track. If not, perhaps I need to look more broadly at the context.  The latter has happened a couple of times, but more often I get the flow.

                                                                                          

It’s a good question if my new business has “settled-in” to my path now almost a year later.  I’ve accepted the stresses that exist – financial, feeling that I am the sole driver of action and results, continuing to watch my work-a-holic tendencies in the new role of entrepreneur.  And it is way too early to declare success, even with little signs of it here and there.

                                                                                                

So at best, I’m happy that – in one year – I have started something new.  One year for the “start!”  It fills me with energy, brings big ups & downs, and begins to give me the sense that others will want to participate.  And I can still say I have been willing to try the things my soul found most deeply compelling.

                                                                                                    

I will celebrate this big first year in an appropriately big way…by taking my one and only shareholder to lunch! J

My Change Principle #1: It Takes Time

So by now you know I took a sabbatical year to stay off of airplanes for a while.  During those months, I realized how my experience with the corporate world had skewed my sense of time as a human being.  In business, we measure time as hours of meetings, minutes to catch a flight, and seconds to send an e-mail.  Yet the fundamentals have not changed.  Healing takes time.  Learning takes time.  I no longer measure my personal timeline  -- to create a change, to really learn something new, or to rest when I've stretched near my physical limit -- in days and weeks, but in months and years.  And knowing this, I am more aware of the life pace with which I can remain at my best and do the most:  slower than the speed at which the internet world would have us believe.

What would you say? -- How realistic is it to think people can slow down their pace and still be successful?  Maybe I just don't want to work hard enough?  I set my priorities differently now, but it still feels like jumping into the dark water when I say no to the long 14 hour working days or weekends...  any ideas?

Using a Journal to Find Your Voice

In my book ReArchitecting, I refer to the example of a journal as a tool for exploring your perspectives and your voice. I am often asked what is the point of keeping a journal and how to do it.  It seems that many people find the idea unappealing – perhaps they don’t like to write or think it will be a burden to keep it up.

      

I will share here why I think a journal can be valuable as a tool to find your voice, plus suggest ideas to help make journaling fit your style more easily. There is no right way to keep a journal.  Any approach that works for you is a good one.  My way of journaling has evolved through trial and error, as I journaled in some way since I was a child.  Your way will evolve, as well.  Trust it.

A Purpose for Journaling

My journal helps me find and clarify my voice.  It serves as a place to gather my thoughts and as a tool to sort through them to identify what is meaningful to me.  I find my voice through a journal through two steps:

1.     I create a holding place for my ideas and emotions by capturing them as I have the time or feel a need to express thoughts or experiences every few days or weeks. 

2.     My journal becomes a tool to create my voice when I read back through it and highlight the ideas and phrases that strike me as most meaningful.  Then I can see the themes and trends.  It’s that accumulation of my most meaningful thoughts that builds the momentum to shape my actions.  And so, I find my voice.

    

Starting and Keeping Your Journal

If you haven’t tried using a journal, it can at first seem a bit mysterious and difficult to get started.  Perhaps these specific suggestions will help:

Make it easy and open 

Think of a journal as a flow of your ideas which do not need to be connected.  I consider a journal different than a diary in which a person might record the details of every day as my grandfather did faithfully each morning of his retirement.  I keep my journal hand-written in a flat notebook that I can easily carry with me. My journaling instrument of choice is a pen.  When I feel like it, I take out my journal and write a few notes or a paragraph or more.  I might be at home, in a coffee shop, sitting at my desk in the office, or on an airplane.  I might spend 5 minutes with it. I rarely spend more than 30 minutes at once.
 

When you see that first blank, white, empty page in front of you, it often helps to get started by writing something easy as a warm-up.  I usually note the date, the time, where I am and a sentence or two about what I see around me.  Then I move on and ask myself a question such as “what has been on my mind today or lately?”  And I answer the question in free-flow form with whatever comes to my pen.  Whether three sentences or three pages later, when I feel little more to say, I simply stop.

       

Perhaps promise yourself to write once a week on Fridays.  Or some people recommend writing something every day for a while; I never could keep quite that regular a schedule.  My ideas come when they feel like it!  I usually write something about three times a week, but I still have weeks during which I do not write anything at all.  No worries.  I just keep the journal handy and pick it up when I am ready.

What should I put in my journal? 

Journals require no rules.  They take on their own lives and characters over time.  You can always write in them.  I sometimes draw little (absolutely unartistic) sketches to remind myself of an idea or something I saw.  You might clip pictures from magazines that strike you as relevant to things you’ve been thinking – even if you don’t at the moment know why it strikes you that way. Sometimes I record a quote I like (and note the source in case I want to use it later).  Occasionally, I’ve been in a period of venting emotions.  Sometimes I make lists of things I’ve learned.

       

Most of the time, I simply try to notice what has been on my mind.

      

Whatever feels right to you will work.  I’ve seen excellent web sites built for journaling.  It remains my own style to keep my journal in a form that I feel is intimate – via pen and paper – and always quick to access.

       

I take very little care about my hand writing form or accuracy from day-to-day.  Sometimes my writing appears neat and orderly.  Sometimes, I’ve scribbled so fast it is difficult even for me to read.  Once or twice, I’ve simply scrawled a frustrated word or two on one page with a trail of exclamation points!!!!!!!  Seeing your penmanship in hindsight can prove very interesting.   One friend who receives a letter from her father every week says that sometimes his handwriting tells her more about how his life is going than the words themselves.

Then what? 

Let’s say that you’ve kept your journal for a month or two.   What might you do now?  Just stack them on a shelf?  No!  Now is the time to turn your journal into a tool to find your voice.  Reflect and highlight.  About every month, I go back through the last pages with a highlighter pen and emphasize the ideas, thoughts or phrases that strike me as particularly relevant and clear in a way that matters to me.  This is not to say that the writing is good or intended for others to read.  The purpose is to note those thoughts that are meaningful in your view for your own reasons.

       

And then, I step back even further and simply read through a few months of highlights.  How did my thoughts and feelings evolve over time?  What has changed?  What has not changed?  Often, I note any conclusions or observations in my next journal entry.  Sometimes I also find it interesting to look at my day “about one month ago” when I finish a current journal entry. Just for fun.

      

I only occasionally go back to read previous years.  My typical journal notebook fills in three months; so, my reflection look-back period is about 6 months as the new and old notebooks are both fairly handy to find. I will sometimes look quickly over a year of journals as I consider a new year of goals or to compare what I was thinking and feeling at a specific point in time that is on my mind.  But that’s not a discipline; it is an instinct to compare situations from a distance once in a while.

Your Journal; Your Friend

As I expressed in ReArchitecting, a journal can become a tool and a friend to help you step back and see the key points that matter to you from above a fog of activity and emotion.  Your way of journaling should fit who you are.  And over time you can trust yourself to draw helpful conclusions from it in your own way.

 

I find it rewarding when – once in a while – a thought in my journal comes through my lips in discussion.  Then I know I am speaking from the perspective of someone who knows me very well:
 

With my own, meaningful voice.