One less reason, or, People Who Look Like Me (and my sons)

Yesterday, I came across this clip of Chadwick Boseman on the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. It moved me to tears.

The scene is staged with a room that contains a framed moved poster for Black Panther. Fans are delivering video messages of appreciation to Boseman. What they do not know, is that the actor is behind the curtain watching them speak in real-time. He then surprisingly pops out to say hello, and the exchanges Boseman and his fans were emotional, funny, and for me transcendent. 

I finally internalized what it meant to have people of color who look like you, who are pathbreaking.

The appropriate context here (especially if it's you Bo and Myles who are reading this many years after 2020), is that I've never had a well-known Indian-American that I've related to AND been inspired by.

There are plenty of Indian-American politicians, but many are so far outside of the mainstream that I don't relate to them. The others seem like they've anglicized themselves to win votes.

The lndian-American cultural figures, like actors, businesses executives, and television personalities, either have played caricatures of Indians or are in fields (e.g., like Dr. Sanjay Gupta or Dr. Atul Gawande) that are already associated with Indian vocations, or, they're not American-born (e.g., like Satya Nadella).

And more than that, I've never seen any Indian-Americans that have had a gravitas, grace, or poise about them that have made them exceptional (at least in a domain that resonates with me).

When I saw the Fallon clip, I realized that Chadwick Boseman wasn't just a good actor that played the Black Panther, Jackie Robinson, and Thurgood Marshall. He had gravitas. He was exceptionally talented. He had grace. He was so profoundly regal when playing king T'Challa that his playing of the role was pathbreaking, especially when so much of what Black Panther was is unique and pathbreaking on its own. He persisted through serious illness, in private, to make a gigantic cultural impact.

I remember the second Halloween we had in our home in Detroit. It was 2018, after Black Panther had come out earlier that year. There were so many young, black, men who dressed as the Black Panther. They wanted to be like Chadwick Boseman / King T'Challa. And truth be told, I want to be like King T'Challa. Boseman's work inspired me, too.

And I think there are a handful of people who were not just good at their jobs, they are pathbreaking for one reason or another. People like President Obama, or Beyonce, or a in-process example might be AOC. Or JK Rowling, or Dolly Parton, or Oprah. Or FDR, Viktor Frankl, or perhaps even Eminem. These people did not just make exceptional contributions, they have compelling character or inspiring personal stories.

A lot of people talk about how it's important to have role models that look like you. The narrative around that idea is often something like, "if they made it, I can make it." But I'd put a different spin on it: if they made it my [South Asian ancestry, but everyone fills in their own blank] is no longer a reason why I can't make the contribution I want to. And honestly, it's no longer an excuse either. And that’s truly liberating.

And why I mention that reframe is because for me (and I think this is true with a lot of minority groups) I have this soundtrack in my head telling me that I shouldn't try to do hard things, because I'm destined to fail. Because I'm Indian, or because I'm short. Or because I didn't go to Harvard. Or because my parents are immigrants and don't have a rolodex full of connections. People like me don’t do stuff like this. People like me can’t make exceptional contributions and have grace and gravitas.

These are all these stories that I know are dumb to believe. But it's so freaking hard not to listen to those stories. Or not feel like you're an impostor that has to compensate for some deficiency. And by the way, I don't think anyone (even white men) is immune to this phenomenon. Everyone needs path breaking role models that are like them.

I didn't know until recently that Sen. Kamala Harris or Ambassador Nikki Haley were half Indian. And I was even more surprised to find out that both of them (in their own ways) haven't turned away from their South Asian heritage. They don't hide it, at least in my opinion.

And I suppose it remains to be seen whether either of them are truly pathbreaking, but I don't see any reason why they can't.

And I feel so relieved. I had been without role models who look like me for so long, I didn't realize how important it was to me personally, and how much having a role model that looked like me changed my perception of my own self.

But I am more relieved for my sons. If either Sen. Harris or Ambassador Haley becomes a President or Vice President (and serves with distinction), they are both very close role models for my mixed race half-Indian sons. And my sons will grow up their whole lives with a path breaking role model that proves to them that their mixed-race ancestry doesn't have stop them from making a generous contribution to their communities.

It is a wonderful gift for me, as their father, to know that even if there are so many other reasons for them to doubt themselves, with people like Senator Harris and Ambassador Haley, they have one less reason.

Turning my inner-critic into a coach

My inner-critic and I have a long, quarrelsome history together. He (my inner-critic is male) was a jerk for a really long time.

He started coming around in middle school. He told me that I should be afraid, especially of talking with girls I had pre-teen crushes on. And then he made me feel terrified of failure in high school. He led me astray in college by making me try to fit the cookie-cutter mold of pre-law, even though I didn’t want to.

Then as a young adult, he reminded me how lonely I was, and rubbed my nose in how I didn’t have a graduate degree or a high enough public profile. He made me feel like garbage about how little I was dating and how I needed to be more elite (his opinion, not mine).

Then, on top of all that - as I approached my early thirties, he scared me into thinking I was not good enough at my job or getting promoted fast enough. When I felt like doing something difficult, unorthodox, or unexpected he naysayed me, “naw you shouldn’t do that, that’s not for you to do” he would say. He also told me, so often, to take instead of give, indulge instead of restrain, ignore instead of love.

Over the course of years he has shamed, scared, cajoled, and ridiculed me. Like I said, he was a jerk for a long time.

I write often about reflection because I think it’s really important. Reflection is the engine that drives learning from experience. I’ve been developing a practice of structured reflection for over 15 years now, and I’ve been working on a project to share what I’ve learned. Reflection is what I’m probably best at and most serious about.

What I’ve realized in the past week, is that reflection is more than just the abstract notion of “learning from experience.” In retrospect, reflection has been a process that has improved my relationship with my inner-critic at least ten-fold. Reflection has transformed my inner-critic and made him into a damn good coach.

This is why I’m becoming something of an evangelist for developing a practice of structured reflection, similar to how someone might run, lift weights, do yoga, pray, or meditate. Almost everyone I’ve had a heart-to-heart conversation with alludes to their inner-critic and how terrible theirs is to them, too.

We all have to manage our own critic, and it seems more useful to channel them rather than silence them.

But how?

Structured reflection - over the course of time - was sort of like having a crucial conversation along these lines, with my inner-critic:

Alright buddy, our relationship is not working out. We need to do something different. You can’t harass me anymore. You’re either going to help me get better, or I’m going to replace you with someone who does.

Here’s a piece of paper with what I believe and how I want to be better. This is what you’re going to coach me to do.

I need you to coach me hard. I need you to be honest, specific, and encouraging. Sometimes, I’m going to need you to give me tough love and tell me hard truths. I understand that. But you will not make me feel like shit and shutdown while you do that. I need you to push me to be the highest version of myself. I need you need to be my coach, not my critic.

You will not heckle me right before I take a leap and do something hard, that we’ve agreed is important to do. In turn, I promise to work hard during practice and listen to what you coach me to do. The only way this is going to work is if we have a symbiotic relationship. need you to get better and you need me because you’ll have nothing to do if I shut you out.

Do we have an understanding?

I did not intend for this to happen when I started to get really serious about practicing reflection. But in retrospect, working through a structured set of reflective prompts and practicing them religiously has given my inner-critic no choice but to become my coach.

---

Thanks to two friends - Alison and Glenn - who connected some really important dots in my head on this subject. They probably don’t even realized they gave me that gift.

Visualizing the Highest Version of Ourselves

I feel so many pressures to “be” very specific, culturally-prescribed, things. Be productive. Be smart. Be professional. Be loving and kind. Be pious. Be cool.

And being all these things is so confusing, because being one seems to conflict with another, much of the time.

Lately, I’ve wondering if I could stop trying to be something specific and try to just be the highest version of myself. Paradoxically, maybe trying to be the best of everything would actually be liberating.

And that’s when this thought experiment came to be. Like an athlete visualizing peak performance in their sport, what if I picked a specific environment in my day-to-day life and just visualized being the “highest” version of myself? It could be in a meeting at work. When with my family on vacation. When running. When mowing the lawn. Doesn’t matter - it could be any environment.

In any environment, what if we tried to imagine the highest version of ourselves? Would we be more likely to live up to it? Would the process change us? Would we be more or less frustrated at ourselves?

I didn’t know, so I gave it a try. I don’t think you need to read my reflection (below), unless you want to. I include it only to illustrate what I mean.

What I will say is this, I did this on a whim, just to see what would happen. And I don’t know what will happen in the future.

But after I did this thought experiment (in italics below), I had a tingling feeling in my lower abdomen. Not the queasy stomach feeling, but the kind of tingling you feel when you are about to give someone a gift on their birthday. Or the butterflies you get at the last step before solving an equation in math class. Or when the curtain goes up at the theater.

If you want to, give it a try. Just take the sentence below and replace what’s after the ellipsis with something relevant to you. I hope you get the same warm, tingling feeling if you try it for yourself.

I close my eyes as I type this, and push myself to imagine the highest version of myself in a typical situation…in this case when eating dinner, with my family, on a week night, 12 years from now.

I am at the dinner table. Specifically, our dinner table at home with my wife and kids. It is about 12 years from now - say in 2032. We are eating tacos, the same way we have every other Tuesday for nearly 15 years. It’s early autumn. We all sit quietly and pass our dinner around the table, everyone taking a turn. We are light and easy and comfortable feeling, because we are home. Robyn is laughing with one of the boys about a new joke they heard from a son’s friend on their way home from school - Robyn had pickup duty today. I laugh as I put a dollop of sour cream atop a small mound of avocado. Even though I am assembling a taco, I’m paying close attention to everyone. I look up, giggling at the joke.

I scan the room with my eyes only, this is my opportunity to check how everyone is feeling. If they are laughing as they normally do, all is well. I see our other son crack a smile but he doesn’t laugh. Hmm, how unlike him.

I quickly look down at everyone’s plate. Normal, normal, normal, hmm. Our same son, the one that didn’t laugh didn’t take as many tomatoes as he normally does. How unlike him. I sit up straight and start my meal, keeping him in the corner of my eye softly.

We do our nightly ritual of catching up on the day, and we do our “highs and lows”. My son seems to be his normal self, but his eyes are wandering a little bit. There’s something distracting him. I decide instantaneously that I should try talking to him after dinner. I mentally note that and focus my attention back on the entire family and our meal, so I don’t disengage myself.

As we start to break from the table, I ask, “Son, could you help me store the dog food? It’s a pretty big bag and my wrist still hurts from playing tennis yesterday.”

I probably could store the dog food myself. But my wrist IS still sore and I want to create the space for him to open up.

I ask him as he opens the container, “So bud, what have you been thinking about lately?” As he pours the kibble into the bucket, he starts to talk. He mentions a friend off-hand and how he had to cancel on their weekly study session.

I see my opening, but I opt not to take it. Instead I say, “Hey bud, since you’re already over here would you mind helping me load the dishwasher?” When he agrees, I smile extra wide and say thank you.

We chit chat the whole time. Just as we load our last plate, my son pauses, seeming to collect his thoughts. And then he hesitates. I wait . Then I gently raise my eyebrows to let him know that it’s his turn to speak if he wants to.

He takes my cue. Then he says, “Hey papa, have any of your friends ever avoided you?”

I take a moment, and pour two glasses of water. I motion him over to the now spotless dinner table.

“Yeah bud, sometimes. Let’s relax for a minute and I’ll tell you about it.”

Impactful Contribution

This image of ikigai has been floating around the internet in various forms for a while.

Source: https://www.performanceexcellencenetwork.org/pensights/finding-lifes-meaning-quest-discover-ikigai-pen-august-2017/

And even though I’m generally skeptical of advice that emphasizes “doing what you love”, I don’t see any reason to criticize the concept the diagram argues for. Those four questions seem sensible enough to me when thinking broadly about the question of “what do I want to do with my life?”

Lately though, in the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder, as protests continue throughout our country, I’ve heard a lot of people ask - “what can I do?”

In this case, the question of “what can I do?” is not a decision where the framework of ikigai easily applies. When it comes to racial equity, if we’re asking the question of what can I do, we’re already committed to issue area and we aren’t expecting to be paid for it.

And this question is common. I have often asked myself, something like what do I want to do to contribute to others when I’m not at work? Nobody has unlimited leisure time, but most of us have some amount of time we want to use to serve others, after we complete our work and home responsibilities. We’re already committed to doing something for others, we just don’t know what to do.

So the question becomes: when I’ve already committed to making an impactful contribution, what will I do?

Here’s how i’ve been thinking about approaching that question lately:

There are three key questions to answer and find the intersection of:

• Do I have enough trust to make an impactful contribution?

  • if so, where?

  • If not, how can I build it?

• Do I have something valuable to contribute?

  • If so, what is it?

  • If not, what can I get better at that is helpful to others?

  • I I don’t know what’s helpful, how do I listen and learn?

• Do I care enough (about anyone else) to make a sacrifice?

  • If so, who is it that I care so deeply about serving?

  • If not, how do I learn to love others enough to serve them?

Our decision calculus changes when we not trying to determine what to based on whether it will make us feel good. When we’re looking to serve others, it’s not as important to find something we are passionate about doing or finding something which helps us seem important and generous to our peers. What becomes most important is putting ourselves in a position to make an impactful contribution.

Because when we’ve already committed to making an impactful contribution, making that contribution is it’s own reward. We don’t depend as much on recognition to stay motivated. As long as we’re treated with respect, we’re probably just grateful for the opportunity to serve.

The Hate Vaccine - A Reflection Exercise

I subscribe to Michael Jackson’s theory of progress: “if you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make a change.”

If I want hatred, disrespect, and fear to stop spreading, that means I must not spread it myself.

This exercise is how I am trying to vaccinate myself so I don’t continue to be a carrier of hate, disrespect, and fear. I’m presenting it mostly without comment, but I will say this. When I worked this exercise last night, I realized there’s a lot I can do to be less hateful, disrespectful, and fearful.

INSTRUCTIONS: Start by determining the people / groups that have wronged you or you are expected to exchange hate, disrespect, or fear with. Then fill in the remaining boxes.

I’m working on a project related to practicing reflection, which you can learn more about at the link.

Picking ourselves up is only the first step

Every work day, I begin with a short reflection, starting with this question: “What did yesterday say about my character?”

A few days ago, this is how I answered the question:

“You are getting off the mat. But the important part is not about you getting up, that’s not the heroic act that matters. What matters is what you do for others now that you’ve gotten up.”

It’s uncomfortable how prescient that was a few days ago, because I was furloughed (hopefully temporarily) from my job today. Now, I really get to test whether I can practice what I preach.

When we’re facedown on the mat, our first decision is whether or not we will rise again. But getting up is not enough.

The second decision is what truly reveals our character: what will we do for others one we have gotten up?

What did yesterday say about [blank]?

I started with just gratitude journaling to start my day, and have since added a bunch of “content blocks”, if you will, to my morning reflection. It’s the first thing I do when I open my computer at work. (I send an e-mail to myself that automatically delivers at 7:30am the next morning).

This is the latest question I added to my morning reflection. It’s now the first thing on the page.

“What did yesterday say about your character?”

There are two parts to this question.

First, there’s the prompt of “What did yesterday say about _______?”. What’s effective about this prompt is that it forces me to take stock of the entire previous day. And it’s pointed so that it’s fairly difficult to lie to myself, because I have to come up with specific examples from the previous day.

This is a little goofy, but in my head, I imagine “Yesterday” speaking to me and evaluating me like a benevolent, credible, and demanding coach, and I write my response in Yesterday’s voice. Yesterday is like my wise elder great uncle - I know he loves me, but objective enough to keep me on the hook for my actions.

The second part of the prompt is the “your character” part. This is user-specific.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what my highest priority in my life is. For me, it’s being a good man. In other words, it’s my character.

Character comes before being a husband, father, citizen, or professional. My character is my standard, just as my word is my bond. As a result, I fill in the blank of this prompt with “ your character”.

The way I ask myself this question has an imbedded assumption about how I view right and wrong. By asking myself about character, it reinforces the belief that what we matters most about is not what we accomplish but how we conduct ourselves when we do it. That may not be how you see the world, but it’s a choice worth being intentional about.

So, if you’re planning on using this prompt, take some time to think about what your “blank” is. Maybe it’s being faith-driven. Maybe it’s being a parent or partner. Maybe it’s having a second-to-none work ethic. Maybe it’s related to serving others.

The key is to fill in the blank with the aspiration that is your highest and truest aspiration.

It has been a great way to start my day. For me it all comes down to character, so a reflection on character is where my day begins.

4-Part Daily Gratitude

Starting a gratitude changed the course of my life. I don’t even think that’s an overstatement.

In my times of highest anxiety, thinking about gratitude helped me to think about and even feel my feelings. I suppose it may vary from person to person, but I am not able to function normally when I’m completely gripped by high-intensity emotions. Being emotionally stable is a necessary condition for living out my best intentions.

Writing down gratitudes helps me stay centered, even, and calm. There are many ways to do this. Here is how I approach it, which I took from a meditation class on Glo.

I write down four sentences as part of my morning routine. I happen to do this as part of my first order of business before I start my work day.

I recommend keeping your gratitude journal in the morning, but doing this at any time daily is great. Here are the four parts to my daily gratitude journaling:

• Who is someone I am grateful for?

• What is something I am grateful for?

• What am I grateful for in the coming day?

• What is a problem I am grateful for?

If I’m feeling angry, I might add, “Who do I forgive?”. When in despair, I might add, “What do I pray for?”.

There’s no 100% right way to do a gratitude journal, as long as you write out what you are grateful for. It’s hard at first, but definitely worth going deep on, every day.

Is it worth it?

Here are some examples that contrast ends and means:

Is it worth it to shame and ridicule your kids if they end up getting into a top 5 college?

Is it noble to trash that company on the internet on your way out, if they trashed you while you worked there?

Is it worth it to pocket a bank error in your favor even if you catch it? What if your kids need new sports equipment?

Is a CEO who harasses his reports off the hook if they beat earnings targets consistently?

What if it’s a politician that you know will get people like you a big tax cut?

Is it worth it to work over Christmas and neglect your family if it guarantees that next promotion?

Is it okay to ignore your lonely but annoying neighbor because you really need to unload your groceries?

Is it okay to stir the pot to get more clicks?

Is it passable to make fun of the “weird” person on the team to prevent the others from turning on you?

It is on us to determine whether the ends justify the means.

And to be sure, a lot of great things can be achieved without resorting to immoral or amoral behavior. In fact, most things probably can, though it might take longer and be more difficult.

I can’t compel you or anyone else to take a position on this questions of ends vs. means.

But I do leave you with this radical notion: the ends might not ever justify the means.

Why we don’t reflect

I was having drinks with family and some family friends over the Thanksgiving holiday.

My brother-in-law brought one of his tightest buddies who has become a friend of mine over the years. We were talking about some of the philosophy classes he has been taking at University.

He had a very terrific insight into why we as people don’t reflect, as often as we probably should.

I’m paraphrasing, but his thought was this: if we look in the mirror, we don’t think we’ll like what we will see.

We need to want to look in the mirror. If we can cultivate that desire in our own hearts, reflection becomes a technical exercise. It is not always a trivial task, but if there is a will, the way becomes clear very quickly - at least in my experience.

Really smart.

I love to reflect, and it is a tremendously important part of my life. What I have to figure out now is how to share that desire to reflect so it gives others more of a willingness to try.

Honesty and the tragedy of the commons

Living in a community where people consistently tell the truth is much better than living amongst liars. Living amongst liars is horrific.

Can you imagine if nobody around you ever kept their word? You could never feel trust with anyone, and every interaction you had would need a contract. You would probably only talk with people who were like you, because you might believe they were marginally more likely not to screw you. The world would be tribal.

In the abstract truth and trust are a shared resource, and the tragedy of the commons generally seems to apply. It’s very easy for one person in the community to tell a small lie that advantages them. And once one person gets away with lying, it’s easy for everyone to start cheating on their commitment to the truth.

Our kids, however, don’t understand this. It takes time to see how behaviors form norms and norms form culture. The choice of truth or lies are a butterfly effect that takes time to unravel.

But if I don’t teach our sons to tell the truth and model it from a young age, they’ll have terrible habits once they understand truth and trust enough to actively choose it. If I don’t teach them truth now, it’ll be harder then to teach themselves later. Much harder.

These ideas about trust are abstract and complex. We aren’t born applying economics concepts to truth and lies. These are things we learn from lived experiences, and come to get a feel for over the course of decades.

But for our sons, that’s too late.

This creates a tension. I have to hold them to the standard of telling the truth now, even though I can’t fully explain why. I have to, therefore, create a norm in our household that we tell the truth, which means I must always tell the truth.

This act, however, purifies three times. It helps our sons learn to be better men, it helps me practice being a better man, and it is a gift to our community which now has three fewer liars.

This whole enterprise rests on the assumption, however, that I want to be a good man. And that our sons do too.

It would be tremendously transformative if we all taught our kids to tell the truth. When we don’t, it leads to tragedy instead.

What I do vs. how I do it

What do I want to be known for? What I do, or how I do it?

Put another way, will I do anything to achieve what I want? Or, will I act in accordance with a set of standards no matter what?

Put another way, what am I uncompromising about, results or integrity?

Put another way, what do I want my sons to learn from, what I accomplish or how I act?

Put another way, what’s my deathbed prize, knowing I was successful or knowing I was consistently a good person?

What we do and how we do it aren’t always in tension. But it happens often enough. And when they are in tension, the choice defines me, defines us.

Power and Responsibility

All these degrees, all these internships, all these flights and travels, all this preparation and learning - to work. To work earning a living. To work as a husband and father. Hopefully to serve others. What am I trying to do here?

Am I in it for the power, or the responsibility? The distinction is a big one.

Why? I’ve found that there often comes a time when our loyalties to power and responsibility are at odds. Here’s an example.

Let’s consider the act of taking credit for success. I can take credit, and boost my chances of a promotion. Or, I can credit my team, and boost the chances that my team will continue doing good work even without me.

In the example above, I can’t have it both ways. I can’t be loyal to power and responsibility at the same time.

The choice is revealing, and ours alone.

Unselfish vs. Selfless

My father was a rare type of man. I didn’t realize it when he was alive, but he was the rarest form of selfless.

We start as selfish creatures. When we are young we need things. We need food. We need shelter. We need love. We need guidance. We need protection. We need knowledge. We need time. This is expected, and there is no shame here. We come into this world needing things.

If we are lucky and work at it, we are able to become householders. The sort of people that support others and provide them what they need, to themselves become providers. This work is unselfish. This work is giving. This work is sacrifice. This work is charity. This work is virtuous. But perhaps not quite selfless.

My father was a rare man, because his aims were always beyond that of being unselfish.

You see, a householder can have a dangerous addiction. As a householder, we are needed. Other people need us and what we provide to them.

And It is a wonderful thing to be needed. It is a wonderful thing, perhaps even a euphoric thing, to sacrifice for others. That feeling, of being needed, can be addictive.

The problem is, if we live in such a way where others continue to need us, they cannot transcend us. They cannot truly become householders themselves. There is a trade off here - if we want to be needed, we are by definition forcing others to be dependent on us.

What was rare about my father, I’ve realized, was that his aim all along was for the people in his world to not need him anymore. More than anything, he wanted me to not be dependent on him. From the time I was born, he was trying to put himself out of the job of being a father. He resisted the euphoria of feeling needed. Instead, he raised me so that I would not need him anymore.

This, I think, is what the difference between unselfishness and selflessness is. The unselfish man asks the question, “what can I provide to the world?". And the selfless man asks, “what can I do so that I am no longer needed?”.

It is a very hard task to intentionally try to put ourselves out of business. But it is perhaps the greatest, most selfless gift we can give.

My father was selfless, and that made him a rare type of man.

Highs and Lows

Every night (almost) at dinner, Robyn and I talk about highs, lows, and proud moments*.

Heres how it works: 

• One us asks - “What we’re your highs, lows, and proud moments?”

• That persons shares

• Then we switch

This is a nice ritual for us for a few reasons: 

• We catch up on the day

• We get to read each other’s emotional state and energy

• We get to vent if we need to and move on

• We get to cherish life’s sweet but little moments

But more than anything it’s a lens into our values and a check to ensure that we’re not valuing the wrong things.  

For example, if I said my proud moment is “I made a lot of money today”, I’m revealing something about what I’m valuing. I’m forcing myself to say it out loud and acknowledge it.

And in that moment, I can correct myself and choose to find a different moment to be proud of that aligns with my true values instead of society’s. And that course correction retrains my brain on what I want to and should be proud of.

It’s a great reflection practice that’s very effective, but very quick and easy.  

*March 16, 2020 Edit - In recent months, we’ve shifted from “what were your proud moments?” to “what did you learn today?”.

Letter from the Future

This was an exercise I learned from a great coach I had the luck to work with as part of a class during my MBA. Robyn and I have kept up with it every year or two since then. Here are the instructions. You could do it by yourself, but Robyn and I dedicate an hour or so and do the exercise together.

Letter from the Future: Instructions

1. Get a few pieces of paper and a good pen.

2. Find a comfortable place to sit, and try to eliminate distractions like TV, music, etc.

3. Get a watch / timer

4. Write the date at the top of the page that is five years in the future. So if today’s date is January 1, 2019, write the date as January 1, 2024.

   1. You don’t have to do 5 years exactly, but the point is to choose a date a few years into the future.

5. Set a timer

   1. You’re going to go hard, so try for at least 15 or 20 minutes. Robyn and I find that we extend the time to 25-35 minutes most of the time we do this.

6. Write a letter to yourself about the life you are living in 5 years

   1. Rule - don’t ever let your pen stop moving for the whole time. If you can’t think of what to say, just scribble until your brain kicks in with a new idea

   2. Rule - be very specific. If you’re at your desk drinking coffee talk about what kind of coffee. If you’re talking about a new job that you just got, talk about the name of the company and your specific duties. If you just came in from playing in the backyard with kids, be specific about what you were doing. The point of this exercise is to have a vivid image of what your life is like 5 years from now.

   3. Rule - Talk about whatever you want, but try to give a full picture of life. Not just family, not just work, not just leisure, etc.

   4. Rule - Write until the clock stops

7. Talk about your vision with someone you care about. For me, it’s Robyn. If you’re not married you can still do the exercise. Be sure to share it with someone, if you feel comfortable, that really knows you and can ask you probing questions.

8. Do something fun, you’ve earned it!

Temperature Check

I look forward to Erik’s annual e-mail. One year, several years ago, he asked a question about relationships. I wrote him this letter. It’s a tool Robyn and I learned about from our wonderful friends Jeff and Laura. It’s something we’re religious about and it’s worked for us. We’ve missed our weekly temperature check less than 5 times in our whole relationship, I’d estimate.

Hope it’s helpful to you.

June 12, 2014

Robyn and I set aside time every week to talk about our relationship. We setup a structure, called temperature check, that we modified from some great friends of ours - they are married and have a kid. It's worked well for them. This check-in happens every week on Sunday...it's something we have committed to. You don't have to do it weekly, that's just the pace that works for us.

Anyway, we take turns sharing on each of the following topics, in this order. We also alternate who speaks first for each topic on a weekly basis:

1 - Appreciations: We talk about what we've been appreciating about the other recently. These could be small (e.g., I appreciate that you swept the floor) or large (e.g., I appreciate that you stayed up with me all night when my family's dog was sick). We always use "I messages"..."I appreciated it when you..."

2 - Issues: We talk about issues that we're having. It could be a self-issue (e.g., I'm having a hard time staying up so late), an issue about the other (e.g., I'm worried about how stressed you are at work), or mutual (e.g., I think we're not spending enough time with our families). Or it could be anything else. The key is, these issues can't be humongous. When we have bigger issues we say, I have this issue, let's set a time to talk about it. Temperature check is not designed for huge conversations, it's a check-in. Hopefully if you bring up small issues early, you have fewer big blow-ups.

3 - Requests for Change: We talk about small requests for the others. Keyword - small. (e.g., could you please not use metal utensils on teflon pans) That example is smaller than our average, but you get the idea.

4 - Other stuff: It's often easy to forget that your partner has his / her own stuff going on that affects them. We take the end of temperature check to catch up on all the news from other spheres of life outside our marriage. Work, family, ideas we have, societal issues we're thinking about, books we're reading, friend news...whatever. It's nice to know this stuff because it contextualizes where your partner is coming from and what external factors are affecting your relationship.

5 - Logistics: Finally, we discuss logistics for the week. Different meetings, social plans we have, grocery lists, whatever. It makes sure we have time to spend with each other and we both have the right expectations about the other's activity and stress levels. It's a chore, but it prevents us from squabbling about little stuff.

A note: Remember about all this, it's really important to create a safe environment to have this discussion. Listen actively, don't allow distractions, commit to it every week, and empathize with the other person. Temperature check is useless if it's not in a completely open and safe forum.

Hope this helps!

Inner Success vs. Society's Success

The hardest part of this exercise is being honest with yourself. But if you can do that, even 10 minutes may substantially change your life in the long run. I know because it has changed mine.

I had the good fortune of working with a coach during my last semester at Ross. Kathy introduced me to this very simple exercise:

1. Get a piece of paper and pencil

2. Draw a line down the middle

3. Label one side, “How I define success”

4. Label the other side, “How society defines success”

5. Fill out the page as honestly as you can

The difficult and unwritten 6th step of this exercise is choosing which side of the page to live by - and actually sticking with it.

But you can’t choose a side unless you know what the difference between them is. Showing me that there was a difference was how this exercise changed my life in a big way. 

Why I Reflect

There are some things you can learn from a book or video - like how to make sushi, the history of Puerto Rico, or the varying methods for valuing a company. I'd argue that there are other things - like leading a team, comforting others, or making decisions in a crisis - that can only be discovered through experience. I'd argue further that the most important skills for having a good life can't be learned from a book. 

It stymies me that reflection isn't a cornerstone of every learning enterprise on the planet.

Reflection is the key that unlocks tacit knowledge, the type of knowledge that can only be discovered through experience. Acquiring tacit knowledge is different than learning from a book because it takes more than memorization of the mind and body. Instead, it takes having new experiences, failing or succeeding, and internalizing what you learn. Tacit knowledge doesn't stick if you don't internalize it, and that internalization only happens through reflection.

Ironically, reflection is something that can be learned from a book or video and practiced. For a reason unknown to me, it just doesn't seem important enough to make part of the core body of explicit knowledge we learn in school. I think that's a monumental miss.

An ethics lesson from the Shawshank Redemption

One of my favorite quotes from any movie is from the Shawshank Redemption. In the film, the character played by Tim Robbins (Andy) says you either "get busy livin' or get busy dyin'." It gets me every time. [Here's a link to the video clip]

It's obviously an inspiring scene, but it also brings an interesting observation about human behavior to light - we have a hard time staying where we are.

Andy suggests that as we go through life, we can't stay at the same equilibrium indefinitely. Rather, he says, we either get better or get worse. There's no such thing as staying where you are.

And so it is with acting ethically. I do not think ethics is as simple as drawing a line in the sand saying "I will not cross this line". If that's how we chose to manage ethical behavior we will always lurk toward acting unethically. In real life, it doesn't work for ethics to be a standard.

Rather, ethics is a practice. We have to constantly strive to be more ethical and live our ethics more fully. It's something we must work on every single day. If we don't do that, we'll surely become more unethical as time passes.

Ethics isn't something that can be maintained as a status quo. We must either get busy being more ethical or get busy being less ethical. There's no in between.