Disruption Deficit Disorder

Blame it on the weather but my mood was “strange” all day yesterday. Being in Athens in early October, I was mentally prepped to expect sunny, warm Indian summer days, and light, lots of natural, reddish, shining and glowing light to accompany the thrill of being back “home.”

Instead, yesterday, I caught myself swimming in the blues – no, not the aqua marine Aegean waters but the depressive, melancholic blues brought on by the uncertainty of transition and change. Almost everyone I know is of the esteemed opinion that I committed a major sin by taking the decision to leave Silicon Valley and come back to Greece. While fleeting attacks of my resident-terrorist lizard brain instantaneously feel paralyzing, my stubbornness and determination are much stronger than the weak tension of my uncertainty.

A collective national depression seems to be taking its toll on the Greek psyche – and somehow yesterday I discovered I was being sucked in. But then, I came to my senses. Is it easier to fail just a bit? Safer to fit in rather than stand out? Wiser to abide by the “better safe than sorry” idea?

Depending on the stakes – sometimes the answer to all of the above is a resounding yes and we have all used caution navigating our very own Scylla and Charybdis.

However, leaps of progress are rarely made from the safety of one’s perch. Disruption is crucial to fuel the creative anxiety and tension necessary to create the novel, the avant-garde, the opposite, the shift, the significant and distinguishable difference.

So refusing to succumb to the malaise of D.D.D. (Disruption Deficit Disorder as defined in the Harvard Business Review by Umair Haque) I want to try – even if times are hard, in spite of the odds, against the tide.

After all, sometimes, the lesson is worth so much more if you dare to be stupid.

Stockholm Surprise: A non-political commentary

Lou Xiaobo was just awarded the Nobel Peace Prize while China immediately reacted by announcing that the prize committee violates its principles by honoring ‘criminal’ Liu Xiaobo.

The surprising move is trending on twitter and somehow a wind is blowing. This is not a political move or is it? After all Obama was last year’s recipient while both the Iraq and Afghanistan issues are not settled – a year later.

I should have prefaced this post by saying that this is not a political stance.

While mental and of course physical freedom, however one chooses to define it, is – for me – the most fundamental and basic value, this is about a generational and basic antipathy against restriction, oppression and any form of dictatorship.  Institutional edifices are going to be rattled by the effect of the wave. However, some things will remain – as usual -unchanged.

I was simply wondering though: How come this year’s decision is so very different from the Obama choice last year? Political motivations, geopolitical games that have to do with the yuan and the dollar, lobbying secret pow-wows that determine the next move on the chess board and the infinite possibilities.

But, one thing is certain : I applaud all the people who have the courage to stand up for what they believe in spite of the pain and the hardship their beliefs can bring on as a consequence. …and I am very glad for this year’s choice.

Burning Heart

Reading earlier yesterday, the latest McKinsey Extraordinary Results Global Survey I paused at the concept of “meaning.”

“…We all recognize leaders who infuse their life and work with a sense of meaning. They convey energy and enthusiasm because the goal is important to them personally, because they are actively enjoying its pursuit, and because their work plays to their strengths. Our survey results show that, of all the dimensions of centered leadership, meaning has a significant impact on satisfaction with both work and life; indeed, its contribution to general life satisfaction is five times more powerful than that of any other dimension….”

And then this image below came back to me – jumbled thoughts – but great ones. Click on it to enlarge and read on.

Size and How it May Matter or Not

I walked into my apartment in Athens four days ago after a year’s absence.

Coming back from the US (no, not Texas but everything in general is larger on the other side of the Atlantic), the first thing that struck me was how small my place looked. Cozy, funky, familiar and warm – many characterizations that could also be attributed – however the first word that flashed on my brainscreen was “small.”

Used to much bigger spaces, my spatial perspective went into overdrive comparison mode. My daughter was semi-offended: “What, you forgot what this place is like?” she asked incredulously…I paused. My coaching hat came on. I had to go into deeper structure. How is it that out of all the data, the feelings, the sensations of opening the door and coming “home”, size was the one that made the first impression? What does this feeling of “smallness” represent? Is it that I commented on how much smaller my Greek apartment really is, or how much bigger my California home is? Was it the size that mattered or the feeling of suddenly becoming encased, engulfed, rooted and at the same time exposed, vulnerable and alert – ready for yet another new chapter.

So, here I am going through the repatriation pains – Athens traffic, noise, idiosyncrasies – Greek norms to which I have to get re-adjusted, jet lag, adjustments and re-acquaintances. In the end, and very shortly I will recover and go about my manic pace. Home is the place the heart recognizes. And most of the time – size – really, truly and truthfully this time – does not really matter.

Au Revoir and Hasta La Vista

I paddle – no, not as a sport. For a living actually. I am on the water all the time; I use the oars; I defy the storms and I keep on rowing though life. Easy, moderate, hard, damn difficult choices – and somehow I tend to navigate towards the hard decisions. I don’t hesitate – I just get on my mental boat and off I go like Ulysses.

But somehow, wherever I go – I join my team and the team is this great bunch of people that make all the difference in the world, my world. Some of them are on this side of the ocean, others are on the other side, thousands of miles away. But, in the end they are the ones who seem to pull together with me in making this whole task of paddling so much easier.

No, leaving the one bunch is never easy because I join my other team. But somehow, it’s never good bye but always au revoir or hasta la vista. And whatever happens – I always come back because feelings and relationships and the bonds I have are stronger than the wind, the air, the distance. So, this is a promise – I will always be there – wherever I go, after all as I have said before: Closeness has nothing to do with distance.
PS:  I learned in writing this today: The difference between paddling and rowing is that with rowing the oars have a mechanical connection with the boat whereas with paddling the paddles are hand-held with no mechanical connection – therefore I paddle and I do not oar…

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