Peak Performance

Reggie Miller cut behind the screen on the low post, curled and bumped Michael Jordan out of the way, slashed across the top of the key to receive the inbound pass with three seconds left in the playoff game. Beyond the three point arc, in one motion he leapt, squared his body to the basket, and swished the basket to win by one. His was a peak performance. He was playing at his very best.

Sports abounds with stories of players preparing for a peak performance. Athletes plan their training regimens around being at their best at the time of the Olympic Games. Tiger Woods seeks advice from Jack Nicklaus on how to peak for the four major golf championships. They hone their craft. They find the necessary combination of ingredients which will allow them to be at the top at a chosen time.

I want to be a peak performer. I am not an elite athlete, but I want to be at the top of this game called life. Do you remember days when you felt like you were sitting on the top of the world? Have you had days when the joy of living just overflowed? Those are the days that I want and I want them all the time.

I am far from hitting this joyous stride. I have searched for years for the right combination of activities, the right recipe of living, to allow me to always be at my peak. Every once in a great while I hit the right combination and I repeat it the next day. It never works a second time. Why not?

This search for endless joy or serenity, or whatever you want to call it, is a problem in itself. While chasing the unattainable, I miss what life has to offer. And I am a failure. How often can you have a peak performance? What do you call all of the other days? Are they all lost days? Are they all failures?

I am a person known for my ups and downs. I have spent a lot of time trying to control them, to make my experience all in the middle.

Many years ago my wife told me of a saying of her grandmother: “You have to take the bitter with the better.” I do not like that idea, but it is right.

I am learning that leading a full life means living with ups and downs. There is no choice. It happens. The key for me is to continue to do what needs to be done during those times - to not be overwhelmed. But sometimes I will be overwhelmed. I have learned that even those times do not last forever.

In the acceptance of the cycles of life comes a peace. To give up the fight brings an openness to life. For even in the depths, in the bitter, life shines around us. The depths are where we roll in the ashes and are transformed to emerge in a different place.

So I am beginning to stop chasing the peaks. I am beginning to accept what shows up in my life. Those ups and downs and middles are the stuff of living. I have faith that it is all there for a reason - that all of it somehow moves me forward.

Tsk, Tsk, Task

A handyman I am not. A handyman is a person who can fix things - you know, take things apart and put them back together. My rule is to never take anything apart that requires more than two steps. Otherwise, it will never fit back together again.

I do not even make a good laborer. Those are the guys on a construction site who have no skill but are good at dragging things around from here to there. They do the grunt work. No, I am not a good laborer.

But sometimes a job at home is so small and inconsequential that it falls upon my shoulders. You cannot call and hire someone to put up two brackets for hanging plants. If there were three, I would understand, but two is not enough. Two is my limit. I bought three of these wrought iron brackets last year, but only two went up. I just petered out during the job. This year my wife bought a fourth bracket, hoping that I could repeat the glory of just last year.

The day came when it was time to do the job. The coming is usually a lot later than most people would think, but I have my own inner timetable when it comes to things like this. I move when the spirit moves me, and the spirit is often slow.

I approached the job differently this time. I laid out all of the tools and materials that I would need for the job. I usually would just start with one tool and when I needed another I would go look for that one. I am learning.

I also got my ladder out. When I am up on the ladder, I am a long way from my tools. I could change this by getting a tool belt, but that seems a bit presumptuous for me. It was only last year that I pumped up my self-esteem enough to get a tool box. No, my pockets are my tool belt. Of course, that results in a lot of pants pockets with holes.

One of my big problems with these tasks is that I get distracted easily. For example, when I was plugging in the electric cord under the porch I noticed the lawn furniture which my wife wanted out on the deck. It would be so much more efficient to carry out a piece rather than walking out empty handed. But I resisted. I have found that if I listen to my efficient mind, nothing gets finished. There is always something else which I could do rather than the task at hand. So I marched out and went back up on the ladder.

The first bracket went up pretty well. The ladder was up above the sliding windows and they sure needed to be washed. Why not do it while I was up there? Wouldn’t it be more efficient? I mean it would take at least ten extra seconds to move the ladder back here later. I resisted. I know myself. But what about that paint that is peeling? It is only a small area. I could patch that up while I am up here. No!

The second bracket was a little trickier. It involved a lot of left hand work which is not natural for me. And the manufacturer tripped me up. The screws changed from flat heads to Phillips heads. That meant that I had the wrong tools. In the past this would have put me in a rage because it interrupted my perfect planning. It made me less efficient. But I just got down off the ladder, and went down cellar to the tool box to get what I needed - no big deal.

Yes, the tool box stayed down cellar. I am thinking about taking it to my next work site. But for now that seems like advanced handyman stuff. I am not sure that I am ready.

After I put up the brackets, I washed the windows and brought out the lawn furniture. So those things got done, even if not in my old efficient way. One task at a time works better for me. It gets things done in the way they need to be done. I am not good at multi-tasking. I will leave that to computers.

I am reminded of the Zen story about the roshi who taught his students about the value of attention. He taught them to do one thing at a time. When you eat, eat. When you walk, walk. When you cook, cook. When you wash dishes, wash dishes. Keep all of your attention on the task at hand.

One day one of his students spied the roshi reading a book while he was eating lunch. The student approached and said, “Roshi, I am confused. You said when you eat, eat, and when you read, read. And yet you are doing both. What is the lesson?” The roshi did not hesitate. “When you eat and read, eat and read.”

Life is a matter of attention, and what matters is what works for you.

Green, Green Grass of Home

I did not expect it to happen so quickly. And I did not expect the outside intervening causes. I just wanted it to be a little better.

I am talking about my lawn, of course. America’s love affair with the lawn is well documented. Men and women work diligently all week long, day and night, in corporate settings, to make enough money so that they can work even harder in the yard on weekends. The ultimate payoff is an expanse of lush green lawn.

My love of green grass springs from my childhood. I worked for many years on a golf course. Those endless fairways of tightly mowed grass were places of safety and comfort for me. Safety and comfort are certainly worth repeating.

Creating a fine lawn takes special knowledge and special weapons. I do not have much of the knowledge. My solution is to go the nursery center periodically and ask them if I should be doing something to my lawn. I know that spring and fall are the two important times.

I started a written record last fall of what and how much I put on the lawn. However, I have been too busy this spring for this type of scientific efficiency. And anyway, the guys at the nursery center will always know what to do.

I recently spread fertilizer on my lawn with my new rotary spreader. I wanted to green up and thicken up the grass. And then it rained for seven days straight - the intervening cause. And guess what happened? Yes, the grass grew greener and thicker than ever, except for the yellow stripes where I missed with the fertilizer. And that was after only two days of rain! Each further day of rain brought exponential growth. My yard began to resemble the rolling fields of wheat of our country’s heartland. But I do not possess a thresher. My little lawnmower is unprepared for this.

So, I got what I asked for - a lush, green lawn. But then I got more than what I asked for. I got a really tall, really lush green lawn. There is a bible thing about this - something like “As ye sow, so shall ye reap.” The modern, less behavioral, version is “Be careful what you ask for, because you might get it.”

I have been fertilizing other areas of my life lately and they have begun to grow. But I am unprepared for the growth. What began as an idea now requires time, action and commitment. It seemed much easier and clearer as an idea. It was safer as an idea. No change was required.

My friend and I were discussing over coffee issues involving an organization in which we are both involved. I brought up an idea which I had been talking about for a year. She said, “That’s a great idea. Why don’t you do it?” Do it? No, I was talking about an idea. I was not talking about actually doing what the idea requires. Whoa, that would be a big undertaking. That would require time, action and commitment. I am not ready for a power surge. I like it simple. I like it safe.

The truth is that my life is ready for a power surge. I am not ready, but my life is ready. I knew that when I started to spread the fertilizer in my life. It was the first step of change and was sure to lead to being engaged more fully in life. The nutrients with which I have fed my life are now being watered by sources outside of me. The growth has begun and cannot be stopped.

Boulders

I have to deal with the boulders. I knew that it would eventually come to this, but I just did not know what to do.

I have been living in my new house for almost a year now. The one hundred and eighty feet of street frontage is lined by boulders. We are not talking rocks here. We are talking large boulders that could be moved only by heavy machinery. This is not a traditional New England wall built stone by stone. No, the boulders were tossed roughly in place as a farmer would do when he cleared his fields.

I like the boulders. They give a lot of character to the property. But the boulders are not lined up right. Instead of forming a continuous line they form a squished together “Y.” Somehow, for part of the frontage, a double row of boulders was laid, forming the top part of the “Y”. A new driveway was cut recently and maybe some or all of the second row was relocated from that area.

In between the double row is a mess of scrub, stumps and saplings. This area needs to be cleaned out, cleaned up and made orderly. I will need some of the boulders to finish off the entrance to the new driveway. But how should the wall be moved? What are the changes that need to be made?

Decisions like this one are not easy for me. I have been studying this wall since I moved in, wondering what needed to be done. I only think about it every time I walk past it. Should this be such a tough decision? Do I need to hire someone to help me decide?

For the last two weeks I have been working in and around the boulders - planting grass seed, clearing brush and leaves. The other day, I figured out what needs to be done. It did not come to me in the night or when I was out somewhere. It came to me when I was standing on the wall. I needed to muck around in the problem for awhile before the solution would come. I had to make the problem a visceral part of me, and then the answer became simple and clear.

The large pieces of glacial debris out front are not the only boulders in my life. I have boulders of fear which are the true obstacles in my life. How I deal with these boulders affects all of my decision making.

When I was practicing law my job required that I make many decisions. The decisions were based on knowledge and experience but they had to be made quickly. Often, a lot was on the line. I had no trouble saying yes or no, or go this way or that way.

But I discovered that I would use the same speed for decisions in my personal life. The decisions would be hasty and often would not work out for the best. I found that I was more interested in getting the question to go away than in getting the best result.

I have two decisions which are on the front burner right now. One is financial and the other is vocational. My energy level is up, I am enthusiastic and I want to make the decisions. But I know that I am not ready.

I learned that decisions have their own timetable. Some of the best decisions that I have made were the times when I decided to make no decision. I knew it was not time. Over time, the answer always becomes clear. The problem often resolves itself.

So for my pending decisions, I need to stand on my boulders of fear. I need to get more information and muck around for awhile. I need to clear away the underbrush that is clouding the issues. I need to move slowly and patiently forward.

I go within to my heart space and ask myself if I am ready to make a decision. Today the answer is no, but I know what I need to do next, so that a good decision will be reached. Standing on the boulders, I breathe deeply.

Omens

I live in a dangerous neighborhood. This country town by the sea is not your normal high crime area, but we have our share of trouble. Our problems never make it onto the police blotter, but we know what is happening. We do not have drive-by shootings - we have fly-by’s.

I was first introduced to this problem when I was living in a neighboring community. One morning I was standing in my kitchen when I heard a large thwump at the front of the house. I ran to the window and saw the bird feeder swinging wildly on the garage. A blue jay was lying in the middle of the driveway, dwarfed by a marsh hawk which was pecking it to death. After a few minutes, the blue jay was carried off by the hawk. I stood stunned in silence. For the first time I knew, yes, violence and death were part of suburbia.

On a recent warm spring evening my wife and I and our small dog, Kachina, went for a walk down our street to the marsh and the river. On the way we passed an open field with an unusual sight: a skunk rooting in the earth. I had only seen skunks at night in my headlights so this daytime viewing was special. He was so cute as he dug and dug, flopping his tail around. He had not heard that skunks are supposed to have one white stripe down the back. Instead, his back was all black and the broad white stripes ran down both of his sides. I felt honored to see him.

We continued on our walk and eventually turned around and retraced our steps. My wife pointed out the group of birds up ahead who seemed to be suspended in the air. They were large birds and they were hovering by flying into the breeze at just the right angle. Their suspended flight was majestic. They would hold their places for a minute or so and then they would break and float together in large circles.

We are not good bird identifiers, and we guessed that they were hawks. But we had never seen hawks flying in a group like that before. I hurried up the road mesmerized by their flight. I hoped that they would stay so that we could watch them up close.

Half way up the street it hit me. The hawks were not going anywhere. They were there for a reason. They were there for the skunk.

Sure enough, as we reached the skunk in his field, the hawks were flying low, right above us. I imagined out loud that they were sizing up the skunk and voting on who would do the dirty work and go in first. My wife was convinced that one of the hawks had his eye on our little dog, who was about the same size as the skunk. So she picked up the little dog and we hurried home.

I do not know what ensued back there at the field. I can only imagine. Maybe nothing happened. Maybe cooler heads prevailed.

So we have six hawks and a skunk. Is that an omen? Do you believe in omens? Maybe I should start believing in omens or at least suspend my disbelief for awhile. What would this mean? What do hawks and skunks mean in mythology? Is this like dream work?

I have no answers here, but I do have a lot of questions. The day after this sighting my life took a sharp turn - a zig, if you will. I know that the skunk, the hawks and I are connected just by being here. But we are unable to get together for coffee to sort this whole thing out. So my questions will persist. And I will zig on.

No Reservations

NO VACANCY is not a sign that I like to see. Nor do I like to hear some customer service representative tell me that there are no rooms available on my chosen night. There are no rooms at the inn.

I got what I deserved. My wife and I had been planning a long weekend vacation for a couple of months. I should rephrase that. We were planning to take a vacation, but we were not engaged in planning it. That is because I was in charge of planning.

Planning has not been in my lexicon lately. I have been in a blue funk and the only planning I have been doing is choosing which store to go to in the next hour to pick up some sugary treat. No lists were created. No appointments were set up. I was living in the moment, but not as that phrase is usually used. I was in the moment but not present. I was stuck in the past and the future and unable to get off the mark.

I tried to make reservations at our favorite hotel in Newport, Rhode Island, but they were booked for a conference. So I decided to put off any further decision. We would wait to see the weather forecast just before it was time to go, and then we would decide whether to go north or south.

We went south, and so did most of the other families from Massachusetts, since it was school vacation week. We went to Newport but all of the hotels and inns were full. We tried Jamestown, across the bridge, but only one musty old place was open and I did not want to die during the night from a mold attack.

We headed further south, in the rain. Oh yes, it was raining hard. We were checking places and making phone calls, all in the rain. We finally landed at a small place in Mystic, Connecticut. The place was fine but boring and we were cranky.

The next day we tried to find another place, but the bigger hotels in Mystic were all booked. We headed north and Foxwoods Casino was also full. We headed further north, figuring we could eventually just go home, and we found an inn in Westerley, Rhode Island. Again, it was okay but boring, except for the smoke alarm above the bed which went off in the middle of the night.

The conference at our favorite hotel in Newport finally ended and we moved in for the last night of our vacation. All of our favorite things were there or close by. It was grand.

So what did I learn from all of this? Do not go places without reservations. That is the easy part. But I also learned something about expectations. I was unable to enjoy the other places which I visited, because they were not what I had planned. A lot of other people had visited those same places by choice. Why could I not enjoy them?

When I have expectations, any detour will not work because I shut down to the possibilities of life. I have decided exactly how life should go. I want to be in control. Life is still going on around me but I am too locked in to one view to notice all of the other views around me.

I need to live life with no reservations. I am not in control. I am not in charge. The offerings of a single day are beyond comprehension and belief. I need to receive from the world and just be part of it. Otherwise, I will be forever locked inside the small and boring rooms created by my mind.

Setting the Bar

How do I measure success? Well, it depends. How high do I think I can jump today? Not too high. How come? Life happens.

I measure success by the little things. Did I get out of bed? There were dark days in my past when I could not answer that affirmatively. Did I shower? Did I shave? Of course I did! And yet there were times when those were great accomplishments.

Did I give a talk or workshop today? Did I do a big thing like that? No, but I was not scheduled to do it. Could I have done it? I am not sure but I think so. I could have done it but I would have paid a price. Thankfully, I did not have to test myself today.

So what did I do today? I did what had to be done. I got up, showered and shaved, made breakfast, met with my clients, sent a few letters, read a little, and wrote my ZIGZAGS. Yes, I did what had to be done. I did what I had agreed to do. Maybe I did not do it filled with joy and humor, but I did it.

The key to all of this is what I demand of myself. I know that these down times happen in my life and so I keep my commitments flexible. Some days I lower the bar, but there always is a bar, a level of performance and commitment which I demand of myself. The trick for me is to keep inching up that bar of performance over time by stretching what I do.

I read of one person who said that a successful day is whenever he wakes up above ground. I am jealous of that attitude, but it is not mine. That attitude denies the tension and paradox of daily life. It denies suffering and growth. It denies the significance of the push, the struggle and the victory.

The danger in viewing success as performance is that performance may become the only measure. A bigger question always runs through my day: How did I love today? If performance pushes me beyond the space in which I can be lovingly present, then it is not worth it. It is a false success, a false measure.

Down times present a challenge. Did I love myself today? Probably not. Did I love others? I hope so, but not as well as I could have.

It is then that I want to scream - Jim, didn’t you do what needed to be done?! Didn’t you get over the damn bar?! Enough already!!! Go to sleep.