This week we have a very special friend of mine Quinn Neidig joining us to talk about her lesson “Wear Elastic Waistbands” – before you think this is about Pandemic Fashion trends – please listen to the beautiful metaphor unfold – about acceptance and the beauty of vulnerability. This is a very special show.
My wife and I met Quinn and her husband Joe 11 years ago in New York City diner. We attended the same church and cemented our friendship over a mid summer brunch in Union Square. We quickly found many similar interests and friends that we would share our lives with to this day.
We have been each other’s family.
Quinn is a High School Spanish teacher in the NYC Department of Education. Her investment into countless students over the past 10+ years has shown a relentless passion and an unyielding belief in each and every student she teaches.
In July of 2019, an unspeakable tragedy struck her family which is beyond any parents’ worst nightmare. Her son Marshall had a seizure in his sleep and died of Sudden Unexpected Death in Epilepsy (SUDEP) – he had just turned two years old.
She shares her grief writing and often hashtags “normalize grief” as a way to make unspeakable loss, speak-able again. To give the grieving a voice in a world of carefully curated Social Media feeds.
During Marshall’s eulogy I asked “he may have been so young, but didn’t he teach us so much?”
Like her son, Quinn is someone who has something to teach all of us.
Someone who cares deeply for her family, her friends and her students
She is a person of endless grace, profound courage, and unimaginable wisdom.
Her grief writing and vulnerability will surely be her greatest legacy. A purpose she may not have never imagined.
We talked about the urgency behind her line – “Listen, are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?”
“What one does is what counts. Not what one has the intention of doing” – Pablo Picasso
“Attention is the beginning of devotion. … If the attention of humans can be so easily filched by a machine—or, more precisely, the companies that operate those machines—then it follows that the capacity for devotion is damaged along the way.” – Mary Oliver
Benediction:
May we all set an intention that takes our passion, our talent, our ability and serves the world. And may we all find the discipline to pursue that intention with consistency and rigor.
First, I wanted to thank everyone for the amazing response to Episode 01 – what a dynamic conversation with my dear friend Ian Scherling. If you missed it – give it a listen, I think it is worth your time. Pay attention to the part where Ian talks about the “library of associations” – that has stuck with me.
Next up is Jill Sornson Kurtz and her lesson “Intention Requires Rigor”. A lesson that feels like the life-long exercise and daily commitment to work/ life balance.
The idea of “intention” immediately reminds me of something that has been marinating in my head for some time – pay attention to what you pay attention to – in other words that our intention requires attention – which could be a derivation of Jill’s wisdom.
Intention is defined as “one’s purpose, objective or plan, a a design or desire for a particular purpose or end” We know this is true right? If we set our minds to accomplish something in whatever capacity – a goal for work, our families, our kids – this is an intention. To say it another way, the best way to determine what you intend to do is to notice what you tend to do. Our default response to life can only be changed by a direct, purposeful and consistent set of actions. A review like this is an “about face” for one’s life. A long look at ourselves and being constructively critical about what we want to do and what we actually do about it.
A detailed inventory of our defaults and actions can come introspectively or with a trusted partner. How do you experience me? is a powerful question to ask someone. Be ready for that answer – it may be tough to hear. However, this can be very productive way to discern a new intention.
Have you ever read something that struck you like this. A sentence or idea so powerful that you had to put your book down. You had to think and sit with a notion that directly spoke into your life and how you live it? In my reading, I often underline and write in the margins or make notes to myself for future reading. But sometimes I read something so moving that I write “whoa”. When I write “whoa” that usually means I had to put the book down. I had to memorize something and tattoo it on my soul. When I read “10 Poems that set you free” a wonderful collection of poems and explanations by Roger Housden, I first met Mary Oliver’s work and her life-changing “whoa” poem “Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches?“ There is a line in there that moved me so deeply that resonates fully with Jill’s proposed lesson.
“Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?…
Wow – the tenderness in “Listen”, the idea of breathing little or shallow – could mean breathing too fast or too slow, but the idea is that your current state of respiration is missing something, missing your great and noble task – living life well.
This brings us back to the idea of intention. That we need a “whoa” moment in reading or advice or life to teach us to find more meaning, to find more resonance with our world. This may be through your family, your friends, or your career. Whatever the relationship is – be more fully open to what it has for you. To have an intention far exceeds a goal – it is an ambition with passion and purpose behind it.
The other half of the lesson that is compelling to pull apart for a moment is the idea of “rigor”. Rigor is the quality of being extremely thorough, exhaustive, or accurate. A severity or strictness” In other words – rigor is consistency. Even the best of intentions can be valuable, but only the work that is behind it are measured and important. Picasso said:
“What one does is what counts. Not what one had the intention of doing.”
That is rigor – the daily practice of noticing our actions and pivoting toward what we know is right. It is the immense daily effort required to put cake behind the icing. The grit and persistence needed to put us in a seat, on a bike, on a run, in a prayer, with a pen, etc – the daily effort that not only serves you, but opens up space for others.
Here are some questions to consider….
Do you wake up early to find quiet time for prayer/ meditation so you can focus on your kids?
Do you stay up late to work so you can eat dinner with your family?
Do you put your phone down so you can have a conversation with your spouse?
Do you lead with questions so someone else can share how they are doing?
Do you observe your actions and responses and commit to constant recalibration, consistent change?
Are you open enough to hear how you are actually doing and commit to change with daily practice?
Intention requires rigor because if it were up to us we would never do anything that was hard. We would prefer to coast and move through life with ease, not friction. But perhaps the greatest teaching this lesson offers us is that if we find our selves in an unbreakable routine, a series of habits that we don’t like about ourselves. We can change, but it requires an intention – stating it with purpose – and rigor – the consistent set of actions that lead toward change.
As a person of faith, this observation of life’s necessary intention often comes through moments of silence and prayer. A time to find illumination of my actions and allow God to search me and empty out my selfishness. To be reminded that we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works that God has prepared beforehand that we should walk in them. – Eph. 2:10. That is a much larger view of life not driven by menial goals or temporary satisfaction, but by relentless love and an enduring legacy.
Here are the quotes we discussed on Episode 01:01:
From Wendell Berry’s book Imagination in Place referenced during the “Set the Bar” podcast:
“You can’t deal with things merely according to category; you are continually required to consider the distinct individuality of an animal or a tree, or the uniqueness of a place or situation, and you do draw upon a long accumulation of experience, your own and other peoples…you are always under pressure to explain to somebody (often yourself) exactly what needs to be done. This is the right kind of language for a writer, a language developing, so to speak, from the ground up.” – WB, I.I.P, pg 58
“beyond desire, intellect or learning or will or technical artistry, the readiness is everything. It involves everything listed above, plus a life’s work. – WB, IIP, pg 117
(Kathleen Raine, poem – from Imagination in Place
It is myself
I leave behind
My mother’s child
Simple, unlearned
Whose soul’s country
Was these bright hills
This northern sky
“..it is grief that preserves and clarifies the memory of her joy, and gives it life and value.” – – WB, I.I.P, pg 132
“…think of Influence literally as a flow: steadily augmenting flow of consciousness and of conscience moving toward (something)…one enters into this flow by way of a “moment”, a momentum, of clarity instinct with the power to gather other such moments.”
01:01 – The first episode with my dear friend Ian Scherling.
Lesson: Set the bar.
I looked up the history of “set the bar” and found a compelling (and obvious) link to pole vaulting. If you set the bar too low, the task is easy – everyone can do it. If you set the bar too high, no one succeeds – moral and participation suffers. But, if you set the bar right – you give people something to aim toward, something to reach and aspire into.
That is interesting.
What is embedded in this wisdom is a spirit of ambition and drive. There is a sense of duty to respond with diligence and grit and endurance. That you have a responsibility to the work and to others to set the bar for every task no matter how menial. That is both exhilarating and potentially exhausting.
The part that is intoxicating is that you are consistently creating the framework for others to succeed and step into. You are the first pencil on the paper and the last to leave. You are engaging, listening, encouraging, and projecting. You have a vision to make a reality – you are relying on worldly experiences, a collection of past moments to make present momentum. When you sit at a table people know what you expect and how they will be better after having been beside you. You are the motor, the engine, the belief, and the will to achieve some great task in work, in relationships, in life.
That is the exciting part.
The other side is the risk of becoming a tired voice. That you would pour yourself so fully into something that it would seldom yield the rewards, the success, the quality you envisioned. I can imagine discontentment and disappointment more often than not. The truth is not everyone cares to get better, not everyone cares constantly improve. Its tiring, its exhausting, its just not fun being uncomfortable all the time.
That is the burden.
If you are to truly set the bar with intention it seems you need to do a few things:
Listen (to those around you) – listen to their passions, ambitions, and goals. What do they care about, what do they want out of the process.
Synthesize (the voices) – take each person’s perspective to heart and explicitly offer a path for them to succeed and get better.
Set the bar – once you have listened and then received buy in from everyone involved. Then set the bar – but set it higher than people expected. Give them something that will stretch them, that will bring discomfort, but growth. Encourage them this is not out of their reach, we will go through this together and find success on the other side. If it is not recognition and acclaim, at least it will be growth and improvement, a language developed.
Maybe Wendell Berry said it best…
““You can’t deal with things merely according to category; you are continually required to consider the distinct individuality of an animal or a tree, or the uniqueness of a place or situation, and you do draw upon a long accumulation of experience, your own and other peoples…you are always under pressure to explain to somebody (often yourself) exactly what needs to be done. This is the right kind of language for a writer, a language developing, so to speak, from the ground up.” – Wendell Berry, Imagination in Place, pg 58
I thought I would write 50 blog posts in 2020 or at least 20…and I did 8. That’s not exactly true, I wrote profusely, but mostly in my red notebook. I spent the rest of the year looking for good in the midst of a global pandemic, a political insurrection, and economic instability. Someone told me recently, “not every year is good, but there is good in every year” – I think that is about right.
I noticed in the fall that a fellow alumni from K-State had started a podcast interviewing Architects and asking them about how they succeed in the profession. I was jealous. That is a perfect podcast idea – clear mission, concise format, compelling output. Check out Adam’s podcast Archi-tecting – click here. But, instead of just feeling like I had missed the opportunity again, I used this as a prompt to start something new, something unknown, something that is as ubiquitous as buffalo plaid or elastic joggers – I was going to start a podcast.
I surveyed my friends, found the right microphone, investigated a platform and found that I didn’t need much to lift this off the ground. Using Anchor for the recording and production, I found I could easily record a trailer and post to many podcast networks with ease. Not Apple yet, that is the next step. In any case, the first episode is tonight and I could not be more excited.
I am learning that writing about ideas is far too neat and sometimes there are things that need to be messy first. The long-form interview, the deep conversation, with someone about a lesson they have found to be instrumental became a compelling space to intervene. Use the Hemingway story “for sale, baby shoes, never worn” as a prompt for concise topics. Use the 3-word prompt list I have been compiling for over 2 years as a catalyst for guest to speak to. All of this took on some momentum and led to a trailer, a post, and the first episode with my dear friend Ian Scherling.
I don’t know where this will take me, but I am almost giddy thinking about how this might shape, inform, or inspire others. Please subscribe, tell your friends, and join us on the Everything is Lessons podcast.
Everyday I wake up and cannot believe it is actually happening – millions of people in the US staying at home – all day – trying to watch kids, be a teacher, and maintain a job all during an uncertain economic season.
Sounds like a screenplay for a movie no one would want to see.
During this anxious time, I have been struggling to find joy and contentment. I find myself overwhelmed by the scope and scale of everything. How could things get even worse? How could there be another spike in the fall? Will we ever find normalcy again? How will life change post-pandemic? What blessings exist around me that would not have been otherwise?
Lots of questions.
But recently, a friend mentioned something I found interesting. A more compelling and thought provoking way to live through this. Noticing the nuance. That is to say, finding the special moments in each day that would have never been possible if this had not happened.
Maybe its a midday walk and conversation with your spouse. A long run to think about all the things you think about. Or an opportunity to watch your kids grow up and learn. If I could find a significant detail, a memorable moment each day – would that re-shape the anxiety I feel?
Maybe…
The image above is from a sidewalk down the street. I have walked past this concrete moment hundreds and hundreds of times. But, this time I was with the girls – giving Kelly a break. For some reason, I looked down and saw it. A perfectly captured leaf silhouette embedded into the sidewalk. How long has this been there? How could I have missed it?
It reminded my of Tadao Ando’s Vitra museum that cast a leaf into his trademark concrete walls. A gesture meant to preserve the memory of the existing tree cut down during construction. A reference to a time in the past preserved for an indeterminate future.
I look forward to walking past this sidewalk leaf in the not so distant future. Thinking about how thankful I am be be near our community, our friends, our way of living – never again taking life for granted and forgetting to notice the nuance all around us.
I have a good friend who does Triathlons and one time I asked him how he trained for hills. He told me simply “run the hills”…
I love this advice.
I am a person who is constantly observes, reflects, and (probably) overthinks life – hence this blog. I often feel like I need to ask 5 of the most notable and wise figures their advice on a situation before making a decision. This is good practice in some cases, however not for everything in life. More recently, I have found that sometimes the only way to train for the hardest parts is to “run the hills”. Intentionally practice doing the hard stuff whether its a professional, relationship, physical or financial goal – whatever it is – step into the “hardest part” first and you often find you are better equipped than you thought. You simply needed a different, more humble posture.
Robert Frost has this quote that is embedded into my memory: “the best way out is always through”. I remember reading that many times before it really hit me – “the best way out” …is always through. The easier path seldom prepares you for life. However, the numerous instances in which I have been pressed, challenged, or had my ability doubted – those are moments that have defined my character and resolve. Those are the moments that help us understand what we are made of.
One could argue that our setbacks, failures, and missed opportunities are the topography we must traverse to shape who we truly are. We must suffer and experience hardship to understand how little control we actually have over our own circumstances. We never would admit that, but our ambition is seldom about our planning and performance and more often about timing and external forces.
That’s why “Run the Hills” is such good advice.
Those who never see the lesson through their difficulty – they become cynical and bitter. However, those who endure hardship and share their story to help out others are full of wisdom. They have run the hills and found that moving “through” obstacles not only makes us stronger mentally, but more self confident and self assured of our ability. That is valuable – to know ones strengths, limits, and beliefs so that you then can mentor and share your observations with those who ask you.
Here are a 5 ways that you may consider “running the hills” – intentionally stepping into difficult experiences to find a fuller, more meaningful life.
Fitness goal – let’s say you were training for a half marathon (me). Find a realistic running plan, find a challenging route, and make sure there is a monumental hill somewhere along the way. Repeat this course until you can do the “hill” every time. Very similar idea for gym routine, yoga, biking etc.
Relational goal – write out some of the feedback you have received from people closest to you. Ask them “how do you experience me – at my best, at my worst?” Maybe you don’t evenly share child duties (me), don’t listen or communicate (me), or don’t turn off work at home (me). Could you use that feedback to improve your relationship with your spouse, kids, friends? You have to accept that you have made mistakes, but also accept that you can change. Stanley Kunitzsaid in his amazing poem “the Layers” – “I am not done with my changes…”
Financial goal – similar to fitness in some ways. Set goals – “I want to set up a mutual fund…college fund…starting giving regularly”. Then set up the auto deduct from you account. This is the “hills” – the hardest part because usually this means you have to sacrifice something else. But, every time we have been generous or wise or thoughtful with our finances we have released the stressful hold that money can have on our marriages and lives.
Professional goal – I feel like these are the only goals I often set. (Yes, my priorities are constantly misaligned.) I think these are so easy to become ultimate goals and take over your attention – “if I don’t get senior associate….then associate principal….then….” This is a toxic and unfulfilling pursuit. A chasing after the wind. But, whata if you could learn from your past difficulties, failures, and setbacks and teach those around you. A mentor, an investor, an encourager. Now you are becoming something much more than a title – you are becoming a leader. And people will follow people who believe in them.
Spiritual goal – maybe you have always been in/ out of a spiritual background and never committed to your faith. What would happen if you were more open? Would God have something to say? Something unique for you do? Someone important for you to serve? This time – more than any other – might be the season to reconsider your postiion on faith and try again. To run the hills spiritually is to show up consistently, vulnerably, and relationally available. Open to something bigger than yourself. You may find more hope and love and encouragement than you ever thought possible. I did.
I think everyone knows about the Enneagram by now.
Almost every person under age 45 has at least heard of it.
The Enneagram is a personality test that is much deeper than you are probably prepared to read. I was turned on to it a couple of years ago and cannot seem to get enough. I have read Rohr and Cron and Huertz and even listen to Ian Cron’s weekly podcast Typology– humble brag. But, I am just scratching the surface of all the materials and knowledge out there. I believe the most important reason for this surge in popularity is how this sacred message raises one’s awareness and promotes personal and spiritual growth.
Now Personal Growth may be a more thoughtful term than “self-help”, but I really buy it. Nothing is more concerning to me than the thought that human beings are incapable of change or more importantly growth. I think any addict who has maintained sobriety for over 25 years would vehemently disagree with you – my dad is a perfect example.
I believe we need to grow. We are not stagnant beings. We were made for a distinct purpose.
The question is – do you …believe this? And if you do, what will you do to promote growth? This is where you “do your work”.
“Do your work” is a common term shared by Ian Cron on his outstanding Typology podcast (see above). From what I can tell, this is a clinical term for someone who has spent the necessary time to reflect, understand, and project how they experience the world. In other words, those who have “done their work” fully understand how we deal with all the shitty hands life has dealt us.
Do we live as victims of our past or do we persevere and live a different story because of our past?
I chose the latter.
The most recent book I read was about my number (2) specifically by Beth McCord. If you don’t know anything about the Enneagram – shocked you are still reading this – but there are 9 numbers and most every human being aligns closely with one of them. The 9 numbers each have their own name designation and description. You can find this all detailed in the books by the authors above or the other 10,000 books available online.
I wanted to write about some work I have been doing.
For once, not about design or architecture, but about soul searching, life giving work. The work I have been needing to do. Instead of the super deep dive (helpful to me, boring to read) here are some highlights/ questions that McCord asks. These have been very useful as I have begun my work:
What is your core desire? – what you always strive for
What is your core fear? – what you always avoid or prevent
What is your core weakness? – what you wrestle with
What is your core longing? – what you long to hear
McCord walks through these themes briefly in her short book, but the thing I realized through the simple writing exercises is how complex and deep and emotional I am. We all are this way – each unique works by God, on this Earth for a divine purpose. But, life is not prescribed or some sort of formula. That’s what makes it thrilling and worth living. We really have to grapple (each day) with our core desires and fears, weaknesses and longings. Understanding who we are at our worst and actually learning from it. Taking our lives as a series of rough drafts, making edits and becoming more profound prose. Never perfect of course, but a better version than before.
Here’s the revelation I had from McCord’s book:
My deepest desire is fueled by my biggest fear.
For me this means, I have an endless ambition to avoid a life of insignificance, to live a life and not be remembered. Conversely, I strive for identity, meaning, and acknowledgement to my detriment. This is the wrestling match you may resonate with, but the important thing is not to win the match, but understand who is in the ring.
Maybe these are deep topics for a blog post, but I am starting to think this is the kind of work we all need to do. To ask ourselves big and deep and wide questions of our soul and do our work necessary to live the lives we were created to live.
