leadership

We Are Of Many Minds; How to Leverage The Best One

November 1, 2011 by Shelli

I wake up at 4 am three mornings a week to go to the gym and work out. Many people ask me, “How do you get up at 4 am to work out?” This question is not surprising; 4 am is crazy early. And of course the reasons I do it are numerous, but include the following: Getting up at dark thirty when everyone else in my family is fast asleep “creates time” for me, energizes me, which causes me to be more productive during the day, and provides a tremendous health benefit.

But the response really should be this: “Easy. I set my alarm at 4 a.m.; when it goes off, I get out of bed and go to the gym.” (See my humorous video response to this question from a while back.)

Seriously. It’s easy: You decide to do something, and then, you do it.

But if it’s so easy, why is it not so easy?

Um, because, in fact, it’s not easy. And the reason it’s not is we are of more than one mind. At 8 pm, when we’re setting the alarm, we are of the mind that we will get up and work out at the gym. But then the alarm goes off, and someone else is present in our mind and it’s not the same (crazy!) person who set the alarm and thought getting up early to go to the gym was a good idea. All too often, the person who reaches for the snooze, or that turns off the alarm entirely, wins the battle.

Alas, we are each of many minds and usually the “rivals” are not at the table at the same time. When they are, they duke it out, but chances are, the stronger one at the particular moment will almost surely win.

This scenario happens for each of us all the time. For example, yesterday was Halloween. I love all things sweet. We had pumpkin cookies, brownies and heaping bowls of candy at our home yesterday in preparation for trick-or-treaters and as a result of our sons’ own trick or treating.

I could have easily self-destructed by allowing myself to gorge on sweets all day long. To protect against this, I determined a day in advance, and again at dark thirty while working out at the gym on Halloween, that I would not eat a single piece of Halloween candy. I am no good at moderation, and I knew I’d feel physically miserable as a result of eating a bunch of candy. I know that the only benefit of eating the candy is the taste of it, which lasts only as long as it takes to chew it. (And I “snarf” candy so it’s even more fleeting.) In other words, the upside of eating candy is very short-lived, whereas the longer-lasting result is not feeling very optimal. It’s not even a contest when you think about it.

And yet, how it is a contest, and not an easy one to win. While making the commitment was easy, honoring it was not. I am human, after all.

I am not good at many things. But one thing I am good at is setting and achieving goals. Still, as I put the Mounds into our bowl for trick-or-treaters, I was of the mind that “Halloween is just once a year. You love Mounds. You work out hard. You are so disciplined the rest of the year. You can have just one Mound. These are Mounds for crying out loud!”

You get the picture. This mind was clearly not the same mind that so steadfastly declared no sweets at the start of the day. It was a battle, except only the one side appeared to be present at the moment, the “weaker” one, which aimed to sabotage my earlier commitment.

I fancy myself as a strategist. I love experimenting and researching ways to win battles and achieve goals. I’ve been reading a lot about the conscious mind and the unconscious mind, and things that affect our behavior.

What I’ve figured out, as a result of both my research and my own experimentation, is there are ways to decide which mind we are serious about and want to honor, and ways to strengthen that one, while weakening the other. We can find ways to sort of “trick” the weaker of the minds.

To illustrate, let’s return to the waking up early to go work out at the gym example. Let’s say you’re serious about your commitment to rise early to work out at the gym. Ways to bolster your chance of winning that battle and honoring your commitment might include going to bed at a reasonable time, setting the coffeemaker to brew a cup for you for that early, having your gym clothes out and ready, placing the alarm clock out of reach so you have to get out of bed to tend to it, and — if all these things still aren’t enough –– asking your significant other to remind you and enforce your desire to get up and go to the gym when the alarm sounds. There are yet more things you can do, such as thinking of those awesome designer jeans you want to fit into, or thinking of the way you will feel (disappointed) when you get up at 7 am and realize you let yourself down by not honoring your commitment to wake early and exercise. You can come up with more than these if you wish.

On the other hand, ways to sabotage your efforts and strengthen the lazier, less-committed mind, would be to stay up late watching a movie while drinking a bottle of wine and snacking late, and to not to do any of aforementioned “preloaded” things.

Following are some strategies that work for me when it comes to achieving goals and in an attempt to honor the “best” of my many minds.

Deciding your priorities is the first step, but committing is critical if you are serious about achieving something or making serious change in your life. Deciding and committing are not the same thing. We decide all the time to do things. Committing is making them happen.

Once I commit to the people and things that are my priorities, I take my commitments very seriously, which includes making sure I don’t have an easy way to retreat, and wherever possible, creating habits and developing them into routine.

Routine serves me well. Making decisions requires energy and self-control. Our supply of self-control is limited, so why wouldn’t we go to great lengths to preserve it? Dan and Chip Heath call this “preloading” — when you make a decision ahead of time, thereby preventing the use of self-control later. In short, if you decide and commit to something in advance, you don’t need to consider it or make a decision about it when it comes up in real time. In my experience, this saves energy and helps my chances of success.

Examples of preloaded decisions I have built into regular routine are working out at the gym three mornings a week, not eating ice cream except during my ice cream social with our three sons on Friday afternoons, having tea with my parents every Wednesday afternoon, distance training on Friday mornings during spring and summer, shutting my cell phone down during the weekends, and so on.

I’m not saying that preloading prevents me from being tested. But it does mean the temptations are more limited and not as great of a presence if I’ve made decisions in advance about them.

By the way, I did not eat the Mound. I did not eat a single piece of Halloween candy. It was hard, but I stayed true to my commitment. Tying the consequences to short-term emotional feelings (in this case disgust and feeling physically lousy) tends to be effective in helping me choose to do the right thing. For that reason I recommend it.

Hope this of value to you. What are some ways that you honor commitments and achieve goals that you set?

I am a life/leadership coach. Services include on-demand coaching and consulting, with an option that includes an epic outdoor adventure. I also provide nutrition and personal branding consulting. Please email me if you’re interested in learning more about this.

Life is Full of Micro & Macro Route Decisions

October 11, 2011 by Shelli

(Note: Here’s a 4-minute video blog of the same)

Most of us have an idea about what we want our life and future to be. Call it our destination. It’s where we’re headed. It’s the life that we’re trying to create. It’s what every day we’re working toward.

P8100205 — If given a choice, I will always choose the high route.

There are many ways we can get there. And I suspect most of us would agree that there is value in the journey.

So we “route find” our way through our lives. At times we follow paved roads, complete with signs and navigation. Other times we follow trails. And still other times we bushwhack, creating our own path. Life is a series of macro and micro route finding decisions. For example, a macro decision for me is deciding that I want to be a life and leadership coach. A micro decision might be determining what coaching program to enroll in.

In August, I embarked on a NOLS Backpacking course in the Brooks Range of Alaska. For two weeks we backpacked north of the Arctic Circle. There are no trails in the 700-mile-wide Brooks Range. So our course involved a lot of map reading and route-finding.

About halfway through the course, we had to make a decision about which route we’d follow to hike to the Dalton Highway to meet our pick up at the end of the course. We had two choices: Follow the Chandalar River bottom all the way out, or, take an alternative route, which we dubbed “the high route,” which would mean ascending at least two mountain passes.

P8160435 — Ascending a steep mountain pass in falling snow.

Thankfully we voted and it was decided, unanimously, to take the high route.
Now, don’t get me wrong. There are far worse ways to spend six days than hiking along the Chandalar River. However, it would be about six days of the same spectacular scenery and experience. It would lack adventure due to the unvaried aspect of the route and the predictability of the terrain.

The high route, on the other hand, would provide a variety of vantages from which to view the Brooks Range. It would also be more physically demanding, mentally challenging, while almost certainly providing more uncertainty. It would be the more interesting route, and there would be far more learning to come out of it. For all of these reasons I, and I think my course-mates, found it to be more compelling.

I think we chose well.

I remember one day my hiking group ascended a mountain pass. A light snow was falling on us, making the terrain, which was loose rock on top of loose rock on a steep slope, wet and slippery.

It took tremendous focus and determination for each of us to ascend the pass. Each foot had to be deliberately placed. It was not fun. It was hard work and extremely taxing on the body and the mind.

For which we were significantly rewarded. Standing at the top of the pass, we were elated about our accomplishment, as we took in views of mountains in all directions and a labyrinth of canyons. And, to top it off, one side of the pass had a complete, bright rainbow arching over its abyss, and the other side had intermittent sun shining through lightly falling snow. It was surreal, and it was unforgettable.

P8160460 — Gold at the end of the rainbow. Indeed.

We would have missed this amazing experience had we chosen the easier, safer route.

Life is like this. We get choose our route(s), and factors that will influence our decisions often include amount of effort required, degree of difficulty, level of uncertainty, and so on.

Following a well-traveled path is easier. The heavy lifting has been done. There are maps, textbooks, signage, experiences and wisdom shared from others who have gone before us. There is not a lot of new learning required. It’s predictable, and as a result pretty “safe.” There are few unknowns, if any.

Charting your own path is harder. It’s baptism by fire, trial and error. It’s bushwhacking. It’s climbing uphill, and over loose terrain. You’re more exposed. There are many unknowns, because it’s possible that no other person has gone before you, or where you intend to go. You might hike all day before arriving at a cliff, which will mean backtracking, re-routing, or possibly having to start over. There are no maps. It’s mostly work, and a lot of learning.

It’s a great question to ask yourself: In your life, are you following a trail, or are you charting your own course? And how’s it working out for you?

I am a life/leadership coach who provides on-demand coaching, combined with an epic adventure. Please email me if you’re interested in learning more about this.

RELATED POSTS:
NOLS Brooks Range Backpacking course — Not a Guided Tour
My Brooks Range People Made Me Better
Other Life and Leadership-related Posts

Why I Pursue “Epic” in My Life

June 15, 2011 by Shelli

During the 45-mile Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim of Grand Canyon in May 2010.

One of my favorite words is EPIC. I probably drive people nuts because I say it (as well as stellar) so often. Even my new business (Epic Life) even has the word in it. I have a lot of epic in my life. This is by design.

By epic, I mean something beyond scale, bigger than anything you’ve done before. By epic, I mean so difficult it will require, at times, a heroic effort; so difficult its outcome is uncertain; so difficult it will require skills you don’t currently have; so difficult it cannot be done alone — it requires a team. For all of these reasons, epic means unforgettable. You will never forget the experience.

One of my foremost passions is long distance day hiking. I like to hike far and fast in a single day. Some of my recent epic adventures include a 45-mile Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim, a 50-mile traverse (day hike) of Zion National Park, a 32-mile Traverse day hike of Wyoming’s southern Wind River Range, a 2-week NOLS backpacking expedition in Alaska’s vast and remote Brooks Range, and many others. I also skate skied 50 miles in a day last winter.

I should say that, being from Lander, WY, where there are many world-class athletes in various outdoor pursuits, at least in Lander I consider myself merely “normal.” But most people, regardless of location, have the same reaction when I tell them of my love of hiking 30-50 miles in a single day. They look at me like I’m whacked, with confusion.

I’m developing a leadership coaching business for women that, as part of a package, will provide epic adventure(s). Recently, when telling a colleague about my plans, she responded with, “What I don’t understand is why you do these things.” In not so many words, she was saying this will be important for my marketing. (Thank you Debbie Cohen).

So, I’ve been thinking about this question. Why do I do these epic adventures? Here is my list of reasons. Of course, it is epic. 🙂

• Health benefit. To embark on an epic adventure, I need to be in great shape. This fact keeps me training at a high level throughout the year so that I can consider any audacious adventure that presents itself to me or that I find intriguing. Being super fit also ensures I’ll be able to keep up with our three young sons and my ambitious husband. (I wasn’t always this fit. It takes determination and commitment. But my level of participation – in all aspects of my life – has increased and improved as a result of my commitment to good health. I highly recommend it. It also helps when it comes to recovery. My legs were tired, but not sore, after the recent Zion traverse.)

• It’s a lot of work. I love the process of working, and the harder, the better. There is something about my heart pumping and the feel of my muscles working, my mind alternating between wandering and focusing that happens on these epic outings that makes me feel very alive.

Grand Canyon.

• Nature. My senses are most alive when I’m outdoors in a spectacular natural setting. I’m talking about natural beauty that can move me to tears just by looking at it and taking it all in. The fresh air on my skin, the scents of the landscape and the songs of birds and sounds of animals are all present. It’s a very real connection I experience with nature.

Pingora, Cirque of Towers, in Wyoming's southern Wind River Range.

• Mind clearing. You know the saying – “wherever you go, there you are” (Jon Kabat-Zinn). I show up to the trail with all my “stuff.” There could be lots on my mind, not much, all good, all bad, nothing special, something that is really special – whatever. Me, and all that matters to me in my world, show up. As the adventure gets under way, the solitude I’m afforded (which is provided even when I’m hiking with others) enables thoughts to get organized (“mapped”) in my mind. Mostly this is unconscious for me. Thoughts that are most pressing will rise to the top.

I can consciously choose to focus on something and try to keep my mind on that topic, or I can let my mind wander and let thoughts lead and lay where they may. The former takes effort as my mind wants to wander when I’m in open space, moving in a place surrounded by huge vistas. By the time I’ve completed the hike, I’m much more clear on many things. I have solved problems, prioritized, come up with brainstorms for solutions, written blog posts, re-played conversations that are important, made discoveries, etc.

• Camaraderie: It is amazing to share an epic adventure with other like-minded people. All of the epic adventures I’ve been on with others have provided a social aspect, as well as opportunities for solitude. The conversations that occur and that are shared along the trail add to the experience and the memories.

Camaraderie.

• Humility. In the natural places I’ve been and am drawn to, the views are remote and natural and rugged and enormous in scale. I feel insignificant in size, both with respect to the country that surrounds me, but also to the task at hand. This experience humbles me. I love that it does.

The Roaring Fork, Wyoming's Wind River Range.

• Pilgrimage. The longer and harder (the more epic) the adventure, the more spiritual it is for me. Because the adventure is hard work and is very much a struggle, I become vulnerable. I find myself in an awe-inspiring place, with my senses completely awake, yet weak due to the effort. I always discover new truths about myself during this struggle.

Great scenery helps lift the spirits when struggle sets in.

• Mental toughness. Or, shall we say, an epic adventure provides an opportunity to practice “mind over matter.” During these epic hikes, there is always a crux, sometimes more than one, when things are at their most difficult, and I find that I am at choice. I want to quit. I have completely blister-damaged feet, or my legs hurt, or I’m out of energy, or it’s too arduous of a task to continue or finish, it’s closer to the start than the finish, or all of the above.

Completely blister-damaged feet during my Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim.

During these hardest times of the hike, the negotiations in my mind start. (And I’m a pretty effective negotiator!) I start arguing and settling and negotiating and reasoning with myself in my head. Examples: Well, if I don’t do the full 50 miles, that’s okay – 42 miles with this much elevation gain and loss is pretty awesome. Or: Well it was a long winter and I’ve only logged one 20-mile hike so far, so it would still be awesome if I were to stop after 36. Or: These conditions suck. There is no way anyone would finish this on a day like this, in these conditions.)

Tough times in Grand Canyon. It was, well, hot.

This crux – this place I describe above – is a very powerful place to be. It’s when I’m reminded of the many survival stories I’ve read and been in awe about, including the likes of Ernest Shackleton’s Endurance or Unbroken, the survival story about Louie Zamperini. I think of these stories, and others, and talk about getting perspective real quickly! Suddenly my issues are tiny in size. And, it’s during this stage that I’m reminded that, in fact, we are at choice. Come to think of it, my being there was a choice. (Read VIKTOR FRANKL’S MAN’S SEARCH FOR MEANING, which in so many words states that, Forces beyond your control can take away everything you possess except one thing, your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation. You cannot control what happens to you in life, but you can always control what you feel and do about what happens to you.)

During the crux (meltdown) of an epic adventure, the question I often ask myself is, How do I want this story to end? What is the story I want to tell about this? Of course as a writer, this context makes sense. The point is I get to decide, which is not always easy, especially since it would be easier to quit. On the Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim, I had major blisters on both feet by mile nine, and before the half-way point, both of my feet were totally blister-damaged. Every step (millions?) felt as if I were standing on needles or burning coals. However, for me, it’s often harder to quit and have the ending I don’t want, than it is to suck it up and do the rest of the work. (Please take note that blisters do not cause permanent damage so I didn’t view my continuing as reckless, just very difficult and painful.)

The power is in the fact that this is a choice that I get to make and that I live with that choice. I like the power of this and it serves as a metaphor for all the choices we get to make in our lives. (By the way, I have not always chose to end stories with “happy, successful endings.” I quit the Tahoe 50-mile run at mile 42 due to heat ailments, and I quit the Run to the Sun 37-mile event after 27 miles, because, well, I just didn’t want to finish. I learned from these non-finishes despite the fact they were not the endings I was going for.)

In short, these epic hikes provide me with practice for life’s challenges and hardships.

• Accomplishment. When I finish something that’s, by my standards, epic, I am a better leader as a result. This translates also into increased confidence that helps in all aspects of my life.

The "finish line" after the Zion National Park Traverse, May 2011.

• Gratitude. Often, near the end of an epic adventure, some tears are shed. Most of them come as a result of gratitude that overwhelms me. Physical hardship (which causes vulnerability), natural beauty, and solitude combine to fill me with gratitude, especially for my family and friends, my abilities, the opportunity to have this experience, the scenery that surrounds me — not to mention that near the end, success is almost for certain! The final stage of the epic adventure becomes very personal, and devotional, for me.

Zion National Park, West Rim Trail.

• Becoming More, and Better.
Finally, the biggest reason I choose to pursue epic is because doing so causes me to become more, and better, than I was before.

During my NOLS course in Alaska's Brooks Range.

So, there you have it. These are the reasons that I choose to do these epic adventures. There is no question I am better for them. I am healthier, have improved leadership, confidence and participation in my own life, have collected some interesting stories to share, have seen sights so stunning that they continue to inspire me, have formed lasting friendships as a result of these adventures, and feel more alive than ever. I have experienced change, and have grown. I am energized and fulfilled. It is my aim to facilitate the same epic experiences for my clients. (BTW, epic means different things for different people. An epic adventure for a client might be an eight-mile hike at altitude. Or more. Or less.)

I would love to hear your thoughts on epic adventures. Have you embarked on one? And, how did it affect and/or change you?
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Epic Life, provides coaching that dares its clients to live as if they’re dying — as if every day counts. Epic Life dares you to go off-trail and uphill, to choose your own way even if it’s the hard way — especially if it’s the hard way. It’s about going farther than you’ve ever gone before. Epic Life is about changing your world. It’s about changing the world. Epic Life is about creating a life that takes your breath away — a life that is epic. Email me if you’re interested in learning more.