When I was an adolescent, World War II fascinated me. The combination of the ever-present memory of the Holocaust in my synagogue coupled with a boy’s fascination for blowing things up led me to read all kinds of exciting histories of the war in Europe and the Pacific.
I returned to that recently in reading Steven Pressfield’s historical novel Killing Rommel, a fantastic read describing the exploits of the grand-daddy of military special forces, Britain’s Long Range Desert Group.
What was remarkable about the book was how little actual combat happened. Most of the pages were devoted to describing the back-breaking, exhausting, and boring work of just getting somewhere, such as driving over towering sand dunes, repeatedly digging your two-ton truck out when it got stuck every few hundred meters.
Two weeks ago I wrote about saving the life of a young boy, which tore me up remembering it, and gave those funky spine-chills to many readers. However the reality of my eight years as a medic was much more like Killing Rommel: 99% responding to stubbed toes, people sick with the flu, or with complicated chronic medical conditions, and minor accidents. Or just sitting in my ambulance on a street corner, chatting with my partner or reading a novel, waiting for a call.
I always told student medics the job was much more akin to being a social worker in facing the daily suffering of loneliness, poor medical care, and poverty. Sure, you got to wear a cool uniform and drive with lights and sirens, but arriving on scene what you faced medically was almost always pretty routine.
In a similar fashion, yesterday (well, not the yesterday you’re thinking of. Yesterday being the day before I was writing this. Yes, I do write these articles ahead of time.) ahem, anyway, yesterday I was plowing through my 88 to-do’s in Omnifocus.
See all those red items that are overdue? That’s what happens when you’re sick for a week. And this doesn’t even include the million and half things I’ve handed off to Susan, our amazing virtual assistant, or Tzaddi and Trisha, our web support.
As you look out across the landscape of 2011 I bet you have a lot of hopes, a lot of dreams, and I’m going to guess that you’re aiming for some significant events.
I’ll tell you what I told my student medics: don’t get addicted to the big significant events. Don’t let your business focus be distracted by the exciting, made-for-Hollywood moments.
It’s hard to compete with the movie version, because of a simple trick. Remember a sequence like this in the Indiana Jones movies?
(Sorry, I couldn’t find the original from the film, although this is a pretty good re-make.)
Convenient, isn’t it, to skip hours and days of getting there?
I love the significant events when they happen. And it’s critical to plan and move towards them. Just remember that getting there, and moving on afterwards, is 99% of what you do in business.
In the article about saving that young boy’s life I didn’t write about the clean-up after the call and restocking the ambulance. I didn’t tell you about filling out the run sheet. I didn’t tell you about the three calls before, or the three calls afterward, which I can’t even remember.
This past year I had some fantastic significant events. One was when Andrea J. Lee invited me to speak at Wealthy Thought Leaders in Vancouver, B.C., and I had a magical hour on stage with a room full of amazing people.
Another was the inspiring opportunity to teach 60 people at the Sacred Moment Seminar last spring (there’s another one coming up in February), spending two days leading folks through incredibly profound exercises. One woman told the group that the breakthrough she had from just one exercise was worth the travel from Europe. And she was still saying that nine months later, so we know it wasn’t just the high of the workshop.
Those two events, my hour on the stage in Vancouver, and my 16 hours on the stage in Portland, were an incredibly significant 17 hours. Out of 8760 hours for the year.
A Question More Powerful Than Countless Resolutions
Running a successful business is every bit as exciting as being a war hero, a paramedic, or living the real story behind a Hollywood movie. Except now you know the secret of what it’s really like to live those lives.
If you want 2011 to be a beautiful, heart-inspiring, profitable, significant year, don’t try to fast-forward to the “good bits.”
To be a hero in 2011, focus on finding love and significance in the daily attention to your Omnifocus, or where ever you keep your to-do’s. It’s not easy, and it takes discipline and focus.
Let’s try it for a moment right now. Face your to-do list. Ask to be shown the love, creativity, and significance in your daily to-do’s that has perhaps been overshadowed by more adrenaline-producing events.
Drink it in. Isn’t that lovely?
Here’s my question for the end of 2010 that I think is more powerful and useful than any number of resolutions:
What small, boring, or otherwise painful projects are you facing in your business that you suspect are what you need to do to get to the significant events in 2011? How can you change your attitude towards them so you can travel through them with more love?
Bring it on, hero! Share what you find and let’s discuss it on the blog.
16 Responses
Well,
I was in a drawn-out dilemma about whether to buy the online bundle, and here it was 4 minutes to midnight on the last day of the deal. Quick, Heart: is this right? Answer: resounding NO. Hard to believe, since I’ve been excited about this for some time, and had planned to buy since earlier in the evening, after talking with my partner. I looked into it further, and found that my heart was asking for a real commitment on these projects.
The detail behind the NO was simply this: “No, you mustn’t buy this package unless you are really serious–I mean REALLY serious about making your website and your article-writing a major part of your to-do’s in the coming months.”
I then asked my heart if it was in my highest to make that commitment. “Yes”. I looked into the commitment, and it was not easy, as I had to face down ambivalence, inertia, and even some questions about the legitimacy of my work and my intentions for my clients. All that in about 5 minutes, what a ride.
So, to the question: for me the “adrenaline producing moments” are the payed client sessions (I’m a Bodywork Therapist), which are really the day-to-day. The website and writing work generally do not even make the to-do list. Adding them and meaning it will require a very intentional discipline which I now see I’ve avoided for quite a number of years in the name of writer’s block, kids, or you name the overwhelm.
It seems I’ve actually been living in a sort of castle in the clouds. It’s a wonderful place to be, and I think I have really hoped that life would somehow continue this way on it’s own. I see that I’m blessed to have been shown the necessity of laying the groundwork before the collapse of my dream. Thank you Heart of Business for making these tools available. Blessings,
Chandler
What an amazing comment, Chandler. I’m so glad it ignited such a conscious process for you- regardless of whether you purchased from us or not. How beautiful to share that with others. Thank you for writing it up!
You’re welcome–it’s very helpful to have this forum. A quick update: the realizations I described above have been followed by two days of wonderment. I’ve never been very successful at new year’s resolutions, but I believe I’ve discovered something really great here about how to set those intentions in a much more meaningful way. Very beautiful. And also, having the materials on my desk shows me my urgency about getting into them, and then takes me back to what that resolution is really about: steady, intentional application and diligence, not break-neck, short-term productivity. Ah, more resolutions.
Galvanized,
Chandler
Two days of wonderment, Chandler! How wonder-full!
Chandler — I figured *I* was the only right-down-to-the-wire-11th-hour bundle-sign-upper. I was something like 28 minutes before the bundle-up expiration time. But, my brother, you had me beat! Thank you for your transparency about this, and what it took to get you there. I too am using these tools HoB has been generous enough to offer, and I too am working with them, delightedly laying the foundations under the clouds in which my castle has floated with relative success but so much uncertainty & matters overlooked, for so long.
Mark, do you know Steven Pressfield’s book on writing (& process of self-betterment generally), THE WAR OF ART? I find it crystal clear on what’s entailed in working with our old friends (who so look like enemies): fear, perplexity, uncertainty, resistance.
Best, best to both of you, Chandler & Mark.
cd
Hi Crescent- nothing like those deadlines? 🙂 And yes, I do know Steven Pressfield’s book. For some reason it didn’t click with me when I read it- I don’t think it described my personal process- but I’m an avid reader of his blog, and I love his fiction.
Thank you, Mark, for a wonderful way to focus–just what I need. The daily stuff is the work. Reading each page, each paragraph, each sentence of the book I’m indexing right now. Paying this bill. Writing this blog post. I get caught up in daydreams, which can be powerful, but this is the real ground I live on.
You are so welcome, Do Mi.
Hi Mark and Everyone,
I thank you Mark for your continued commitment to encourage us all.
I couldn’t sleep much last night, and finally got up ths morning just before 4am. Before getting up, i was thinking how mundane the past few days have been. I have been working on “clearing the chi” in my home and studio and office and my internal and external personal life for weeks. (hmmm, just writing that sounds bigger than it felt til now.) Why am i spending so much time on clearing and cleansing? to create order and clarity, which i am hoping will help me go forward more fluently in harmony.
Yet, being close to having removed all the clutter; organised all the papers; sorted, removed and purged unwanted stuff; and cleaned every dusty corner, i felt just OK. No big moments of satisfaction. i sat back and things just looked “nice”.
Since i generally create a lot in the way of art, clearing the chi did not end in a painting or a poem – it seemed i didn’t produce anything insightful. I simply did what i set out to do- create order. And so i lay awake this morning thinking is it really important or worth it. Will this open the door to reaching more people with what i have to offer?
Then, i got up. And, rare as it is for me to open my computer this early, i did. I read your posting, and thought, “How synchronistic”. I feel i was guided to read your advice. I feel better and more motivated to continue clearing the chi before continuing on to the next big challenge in my business.
Thank you for being you and sharing your voice that brings purpose and love to so many.
Don’t you love those synchronicities, moonfire? Thanks for sharing it here!
Dear Mark and fellow blog writers/readers,
I had a synchronistic blessing this morning, somewhat similar to Moonfire. I woke up with a “just do it now” attitude, opened my laptop at 6 AM and found myself accomplishing necessary jobs. Also like Moonfire, I had an “urge to purge” and cleaned up my physical environment. I then “rewarded” myself with reading your wonderful article, Mark, and delighted in the synchronistic connection. I will re-read your article when I need reminder that these silent little acts of love for our work and for our clients prepare us for, but are no less than, the bigger moments ahead.
Thank you, Mark and All, for sharing your inspirational stories. It’s wonderful to feel connected to other small business owners and your loving spirit. Blessings to you.
Hi Kristin- how fun to hear that this post was a reward- and it was, too, considering the circumstances. And you’ve rewarded me by sharing your experience. I so appreciate that. And that you are doing the work.
Hey Mark, I totally hear you on this one. I first noticed this truth in relation to healing. I spent 8 years recovering from a serious car accident — went from being told to “just get used to” constant, debilitating pain, to amazingly getting my life back.
People who saw this happen found it really inspiring. It *is* inspiring — I’m in awe of the human capacity to heal — but the actual process was a million trillion tedious baby steps that seemed at the time to be going pretty much nowhere. There were times I was exhausted, and times I was stunned by the miracle of healing, but mostly I was trying to just do what was next, and to love every little thing I did, because that was my life at the time.
I had a formula for my days. I couldn’t do much, but every day I tried to do:
one thing that moved my healing forward
one thing to deal with bureaucratic details (of which there were many)
one thing that moved my life forward
one thing that was happy or pleasurable
one thing that connected me with other people
I basically did 5 tiny tasks a day. Most of the time I couldn’t see much progress or take heart from that, but — glacial though it was — it all added up to real, spectacular change.
And, equally important, there was something really sacred and lovely about how I was living during that time. About the willingness to honor the tiny things I was doing, and keep doing them, without knowing what the outcome would be.
This applies to everything we do, doesn’t it, not just the times we’re knocked on our ass.
Thanks Mark for the reminder. Good way to start the new year.
Marilyn- thank you for telling it like it is/was. My wife Holly was chronically ill for ten years, with a slow, slow recovery and I can so relate to what you wrote. The work you did, and you don’t need me to tell you this, is the real hero’s work. Amazing.
Hi Mark,
You have jumped right onto a subject that crosses into a much larger life lesson. It’s the thought process that if you spend all your time focused on the destination you’ll miss all the great things about the journey. I know it’s somewhat corny and fairly overused, but that doesn’t make it any less true.
This is why I feel it is so important to find what you really want to do in life. If you figure out what your true passion is, all the bumps along the way don’t seem nearly as rough. Thanks for the great article!
Hi, WHEN I trust a person, in case you come to Romania there are a draught beer via my home: ) Regards!