Changelings

I don't know about you, but change always throws me. For example, if I am at work and find out that a component in my design has a delivery time that is unacceptable, I usually get cranky. And usually with the messenger. I usually come up with all these reasons why this is a valid thing for me to be upset about, but it is really not a huge deal. I know an EP (exceptional people/person) who handles change really well. If they are planning on watching my kids, and we call up and say we need them to watch a little longer a little later (by little I mean a lot) this EP just says 'okay, sounds good'. We have pulled that stunt and then called back a little before we were supposed to be done, tell them that we are going to be another hour late, and this EP remains good about it.

     Or there is another EP, who gets told that something needs to change or be done, quickly and without warning, and they will get right after it with no visible sign that they are bothered.

     Maybe this will help you get what I mean. My brain is a one track mind. (Not talking about that, grow up) 

     Actually, it's more of a freight train. Once it gets going, I can get a lot done, but switching that train to a different track is rarely smooth, and I usually achieve combustion. If I am lucky, I don't totally wreck. I envy the less volatile EP who changes the track, but doesn't lose it. To add insult to injury, these people can usually get back to what they were working on before the change, and don't seem to lose any steam at all. (I scowl at those people, and occasionally throw things. Maturely)

Success

You've heard about that successful entrepreneur who has made millions by the time they were 28, is aggressively outgoing and has a financial future brighter than the sun. I ask myself; Are the rest of us failures because we aren't wealthy beyond reason and constantly passionate about our job?
I recently went on a business trip wherein I was given, and took, the opportunity to read half of a self-help (hush--no judging) book. It's called The Art of Work, by Jeff Goins. (And yes, I do intend to finish it, so hush again)
Here's a link: http://www.amazon.com/The-Art-Work-Proven-Discovering/dp/0718022076
He's an entrepreneur who quit a fairly promising career to become a writer. He does not focus on what career will be most lucrative. He does write about finding your calling in life, the career that you were meant to do, or rather the best fit for you based upon your skills, life experience and interest. I got the book to help me find the courage and direction for my career. The problem is..........I realized, from my reading and pondering........that I'm currently doing it. The job in which capacity I am currently in, is the job that I was made for. I'm not saying predestined, but my life experiences, skills, work ethic and interests are very well utilized where I am. It is possible that another job may be even better at some point in the future, but it is nice to think that at least some part of my job I can find satisfying.

Too bad I don't play well with others. Therein lies my biggest struggle as an employee.

I pose this question: Can kindness be part of a successful professional strategy? I have an opinion/theory already, but would like unbiased input.

One of those people.

You know 'that guy'. (or girl- but due to my derogatory terminology, I'll keep it at guy)
Or, as I call them, one of 'those people'.
The one who went to school and took 16 credits, worked two full time jobs, and got their master's in two years.
Or maybe the person who has two degrees, but is taking more classes for fun, and they excel at them.
Or the person who does those trendy fun things with their family, that would make it into parenting magazines.

I'm taking 2 classes, one full time job and another that is barely more than a hobby. And it might just kill me.
I get about an hour a day that I am not working or schooling, (unless I stay up late, in which case I pay for it the next day) and that is probably best spent eating.
How do people do it? How do they make enough to support their family, and then talk about how they watched a few episodes of a TV show, went for a 40 mile bike ride, went to the gym, mowed the lawn, wrote a research paper, helped the neighbors move and still had time to do the dishes and a load of laundry, organized family time and taught their kids string theory!?

I think I'll just go to sleep.

The enviable temperate ones.

Today I kinda blew up in a conference room meeting surrounded by those who see me as a subordinate. I really hate bullies. But that's prolly (possibly + probably = prolly) a topic for a different blog.

Have you ever met that person who manages to keep it together all the time? They always act positive and remain cool even under pressure. They don't complain to everyone about their problems, other than a conversational mention. They don't infect others with a bad mood. The rest of us tend to try to be a topper, have the best (worst) story to tell- prolly in hopes of gaining pity and/or respect. I've done it, and unless you are one of the EPs (exceptional people) who practices temperance, you've done it. If you are one of the EPs, go away. I'd rather talk about you behind your back.

Temperance.

To be honest, the meaning of this came partly from religious understanding and partly from one of my guilty pleasures, a TV show called Bones. There is a character in that show named Temperance, and she is utterly objective. (socially absent as well- but that's not my point)

She will stick to the facts against any emotional bias. Thus I came to think that temperance was maintaining the focus without regard to any bias. So, in a humane/spiritual sense, a temperate person would do the right thing without allowing themselves to be derailed by anger, frustration, fear or other bias. 

So until I stop my ambivalence towards the rest of humanity, I will continue to envy the temperate ones. 

Some of the exceptionals.

I would like to identify a few of the exceptionals and what I envy. But for the sake of anonymity, I'll be using pseudonyms. Let's start with Karl Keenthorn and James Betaluceae. These men share the ability to make you feel valuable and still be encouraging. I also saw them as successful in their fields, which they surely are. You wanted to be in their club. And even when you fell flat on your face, you were never rejected.

Why is that remarkable? Well, for most people it is easy to come across as critical, rude or superior when we offer advice intended to improve others. And maybe partially, that is in our heart to some degree. We want to be superior, and in some strange way, flattering others seems to lift us up. But these two are examples of that very valuable, and often unsought-after social skill of building others up without guile. Praise was either very cleverly veiled flattery or it it was genuine appreciation. Either way, the result was positive and constructive. 

Why bring these up? Well, in order to adopt the traits that we value, we should consciously identify them first. 

No guile.

Build up others.

Rarely showed loss of temper.

Skilled and intellectually bright.

Respectful.

What I mean.

As long as I can remember, there have been people around me that I looked up to, that I considered exceptional. I saw these people as the examples of what great/good people are. I also thought of them as the best at something. The best violin player, the fastest runner, the most artistic, wise, strong, kind, witty, intelligent, and so on. Basically everything that I valued, when I saw it in someone else, I was in awe. This then morphed into jealousy. I envy those who I perceive as the best at something. It doesn't even need to be something cool or valuable. If someone were the best at chicken lip shaving, I would envy that. Because, I'll face it, I'm not the best at anything. Even in a field so sparse as blacksmithing, I am not even the best in my little town. In the field of CAD, which is my profession, others nearby leave me in the dust. Now before you think I am on a poor me rant, I am documenting my journey and search for my own exceptionality.