Finessing Time Management

Many of us attempt to accomplish as much as possible in the shortest amount of time. We consider it efficiency - getting maximum value out of the investment. It isn't the time that is the real issue here, but rather what we're doing in that moment.


The premise of this blog is that thinking always precedes and influences experience. What you hold as dominant thoughts (often called beliefs) in your mind determine the experiences attracted by them. That's one reason why Charles Fillmore said if you're unhappy with your life, change your thinking. It is possible to deliberately think, rather than mentally react and respond to what the senses are interpreting.

If it wasn't your mother, then perhaps it was a grandmother, or aunt, or other older, wiser woman (usually) who admonished young you that if you can't say something nice about someone, don't say anything at all.

There's great wisdom in that.

If you're not looking for something worthy about someone (or some situation or condition) then you're emphasizing an undesirable element that will become more a part of your experience. A.K.A. complaining.

I come back to this theme, complaining, because it is important. Happy people do not complain. The question begs, do unhappy people complain because they are unhappy? Or, are they unhappy because they complain? To escape that vicious circle of reason one must ask in earnest - do I want to be happy? If the answer is YES! then the process has begun. Yet if one doesn't "want to be happy" then no way can they feel such joy. There are many reasons why a person might not "want" or feel they "deserve" to be happy. More on them another time.

For the moment, let's realize that you can look for a compliment as easily as a complaint. It takes the same amount of time. Why not go for the compliment? If you want to be a happy person, then test it. Become more aware of complaining and find a compliment or appreciation instead. Notice how you literally feel when appreciating someone or something as opposed to complaining. It's self evident.

The Universe as Hubble telescope sees it

It is said that every thought, ever thought, still exists. Our contributions to the universe never cease.

A Nautical September

Maybe it's the Indian Summer (or the never ending H O T and D R Y) but for whatever muse, I took the time to re-read John Keegan's "The Price of Admiralty." Bought the book when first it came out in 1989 because I enjoy historian Keegan's works. Good reading, especially the survey of 18th and early 19th century naval warfare in the Trafalgar story. Keegan gives a real feel for life onboard the great timber craft and how they managed.

In fact, the imagery was so vivid I had to re-visit Peter Weir's "Master and Commander." I like Russell Crowe - the Charlton Heston figure for the turn of the century. This 2003 hit is a manly adventure of the sea during the Napoleonic war. Crowe captain's the British ship Surprise in search of a French man-o-war heading for the Pacific. It's a great chase with splendid characters and stunning cinematography. Director Weir makes the ship and sea the central forces. It's a great Saturday afternoon movie for any ten year old kid of any age (I confess.)

Okay, now on to cooler weather in October!

Remembrance

A day of infamy

It’s hard to believe nine years have passed since my nephew noted that the September 11, 2001 sneak attacks on New York City and Washington D.C. were “9-1-1” since that means emergency. Like Pearl Harbor, the murder of John Kennedy, and such, people will likely remember what they were doing that Tuesday morning. I know I do.

I was at the office, going about business as usual when one of the social workers started passing the word that an airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center in New York. My thought was that would have to be an uncanny accident – perhaps a pilot had suffered a heart attack or something. I’d been to New York and was familiar with the two tall towers. They were big, but still a small point in a huge sky. Radios and some portable televisions were turned on when the second jet slammed into the South Tower. “That’s no coincidence,” I knew. Who would do that? How? Why?

By the time news of a third guided missile attack on the Pentagon came around it was evident this was an historic day – this generation’s equivalent of Pearl Harbor. We were being attacked, murderously. Around this time I reflected back on an earlier bombing attempt on the World Trade Center – radical Islamics. They found a better way, it seemed.

Word came around of a fourth hijacked plane crashing in Pennsylvania – apparently the passengers learned of the earlier suicide attacks and weren’t going along with that one. Save one White House, or Capitol.  We, The People, had begun the counter-offensive.

I recall being impressed with the cool professionalism of President Bush who completed his task with young students without alarm before going aloft. More impressive was his stop at Barksdale AFB.

Like the 19th and 20th centuries, the 21st would begin with a major war – of ideology rather than dynasties and nations.

A friend living in NYC sent the following email, dated September 12, 2001:

Today in the office, it is sad beyond description. In spite of the fact that many of us didn't lost friends or loved one, the site of people leaping out of windows, and the fact that something this horrible it could happen at all has changed us. The streets are empty, people are shell shocked. Sometimes it hits you this really happened and then sometimes you feel numb to it as thought it didn't happen and life is as usual. It is the most beautiful day outside as was yesterday. Hints of fall in the air - but eerily silent – no traffic - no airplanes - no hustle bustle. People continue to move about as though they are dreaming. I am devastated by this and feel certain this is the beginning - the beginning of more horror to follow. War? Most of the elderly compare the events to a blitz. Our lives have been altered forever here.

The amazing aspect of the attacks were the casualties - remarkbly few, considering.  The wake-up, as it were, was that many people simply do not "get" the "We The People" format of this nation.  It terrifies them.  I've never fathomed how freedom can frighten.  It's an old conflict, and it continues...

9-11-01 Artifact

Things That Dropped in the Night (and Day as well)

He wiggled his wings and risked court martial, yet the pilot of the C-47 was determined to drop candies to the starving children swarming over the rubble a few hundred feet below. For his efforts the youngsters dubbed him “Onkel Wackelflügel” or Uncle Wiggly Wings. It was a gesture by the conscientious Mormon, Gail Halvorsen, noticed around the world.

It was the Berlin Airlift – June 1948 thru May 1949. The United States, Great Britain, and France mobilized aircraft to ferry food, coal and supplies into West Berlin after Stalin closed access to the city. I recently visited the Truman Library in Missouri and reflected on the bold action. It was the “Cuban Missile Crisis” of its time.

The airlift began as a political maneuver in the expanding Cold War in Europe. Stalin didn’t want a prosperous West Berlin adjacent to his preferred weakened status of the conquered nations. His efforts to starve West Berliners (hence the allies) into submission was foiled by the logistical success of air cargo – and pilots like Halvorsen who understood the full humanitarian impact of the airlift.

Halvorsen distributing treats

Truman ordered it, the Military Governor of Germany General Lucius Clay carried it out, and Lt. General William Tunner forgave the young pilot for wiggling his wings at the children and encouraged such drops. They were called the Raisinbombers by the Germans. It was a political and humanitarian success. And a typical American response.

Halverson was the first Candy Bomber, but soon other crews joined in. Volunteers stateside were making the tiny parachutes for the bundles of candy and American candy makers were donating the goodies. Stalin never had a chance – a plane was landing at Templehof airport every 90 seconds and most were parachuting treats for the beleaguered kids.

The American spirit that carried out that unique effort is very much alive and appears to be awakening after slumbering for a generation. Another reason I am optimistic for the 21st Century.

Labor Day Muses

I’m optimistic about the future. 2012 will be a remarkable year – the only possible year that could fall between 2011 and 2013. 2012, or any period, is what you make of it. At the moment a lot of people seem to be scaring themselves – fiscal nightmares, wars and rumors of wars, rampant diseases, rampant stupid people, and the list goes on. For those who can only think and see such, they will see and find it. But, it’s not for everyone.

I’m celebrating this Labor Day by reading the companion book to the 2004 PBS series They Made America, Harold Evan’s masterful survey of principle innovators since the steam engine. Anyone who has any doubts about the character and resiliency of that remarkable assemblage of misfits and dreamers called “Americans” should read this immediately, or Netflix the DVD. Who knows how many people tinker with their dreams and visions in their garage or other thinking place? A snapshot of 2010 life in America presented to a citizen in 1840 would be alien. The general thought pattern of 1840 is far, far removed from that today. And it will be such in the future, which is why it’s always dangerous to declare that we’ve gone as far as we can go.

Who can imagine the “jobs” Americans will engage in the near future? Good grief, even a couple of decades ago the term “I.T. Engineer” would have brought curious looks. Mobility and freedom of movement seem to me to be the consistent theme and  new heights of both are in the works.

“Thoughts That Go Bump in the Night” reflects the thinking cause of grief for people. The reverse is also true, of course. It is the manner of one’s perspective in thought that determines the experience. For instance, the wonderful phrase a rising tide lifts all boats describes how an uplifting for some can benefit all. It’s a nice image and, I believe, is accurate. However, there will still be folks who refuse to participate will anchor their meager tubs to the muddy sea floor rather than float any higher. The limiting anchor is thought - not the world, not the actions of others, and not the environment.

Seasoned readers may recall the great Toilet Paper shortage of the 1970’s. Yes, it’s true – there was a shortage of toilet paper in America! Now that’s a horrible thought. Yet it was an illustration of self-fulfilling concepts. Johnny Carson made a joke about the nation running out of toilet paper. And then...

Much to the amazement of not only the show but of toilet paper factories across America, 20 million people that watched the Carson show that evening ran out in the morning and bought as much toilet paper as they could carry. By noon on December 20, 1973, practically every store in America was out of stock. Many of the stores tried to ration this valuable paper but they could not keep up with the demand no matter what they did.

There’s a truth in that; thought = belief = experience. There was no natural loss of toilet paper. No capricious demon snatched it away. The idea, planted by jovial Carson, was seized by viewers as fact and they reacted accordingly – creating a shortage that did not exist prior. Never underestimate the ability of anyone to create a shortage or misery (keeping that mental anchor on the sea floor.)

In effect, what you expect is what you experience...

   Fred was a man of great faith who knew that, despite whatever came his way, God would take care of him. One spring there were terrible rains and the town began to flood. The levee burst upstream and the police went around the town warning residents to evacuate at once. The policeman told Fred to get in his car and leave town— 15 feet of water was headed his way. Fred was polite and informed the officer that he trusted in God and that God would take care of him. The policeman left.

   The waters began to rise and eventually Fred had to climb onto his roof. A boat from the Sheriff’s Department came around and the deputy instructed him to get in, that there was still time for him to escape. Fred informed the deputy that he trusted in God, and that God would take care of him. The boat left.

   The waters continued to rise and Fred was perched atop his chimney to escape the snake infested water. The sun was setting as a helicopter from the National Guard flew overhead. A voice told him to grab the harness, and they would haul him to safety. Fred shouted back that he trusted God and that God would take care of him. The helicopter flew away.

   The water continued to rise and Fred was about to be swept away. Fred became angry and cursed God. “Why have you forsaken me, Lord? I waited for you, and now I am about to drown!”
   
   Suddenly, a Voice boomed from the Heavens: “What more do you want from me, Fred? I sent you a car, a boat, and a helicopter.”

Sigh...anchors, always anchors on the sea floor...