Benched: Presence v. Productivity II

We continue taking this stroll down Mindfulness Lane, moving beyond any analysis between Presence and Productivity. I love walking and talking. Somehow the flow of blood through the limbs allows the flow of words to be greater. Presence and Productivity can be seen as different but’s it no different than seeing the difference between your right and left hand. Sure, one might be dominant, but heck if I don’t need the other one. And heck if I don’t need to develop the weaker hand and subdue the dominant one. They’re complimentary, not opposites. They are indeed, two and the same, connected to one mind. The great ballplayers develop this ambidextrousness and aren’t just one-dimensional, so we should develop those skills as well. In the act of walking, the brain relaxes and allows the mind some freedom. Maybe it’s nature’s way of letting the unconscious work when the brain – consciousness - is somewhat immobilized. 

Think of the critical nature in which we view the world and ourselves. How often do we find ourselves criticizing? How often do we draw ourselves into self-concern? It’d floor each of us if we saw on a ledger how the brain works during the day. A mind is paralyzed, and the body imprisoned, when the brain critiques. Call attention to the detriments and the faults, the hurdles and the pitfalls, the purity and the impure. We question ourselves and react. We hesitate. We analyze the past trying to predict the future. We ask how and expect ‘how-to-do’s’. We think, yet nothing is done. 

You see, to believe in something (Take something simple, like believing ‘Covid is bad.’) is like asking if it’s better to have a good offense or a good defense. It’s a silly question because it implies that there’s a difference, and that you should choose such a difference. But we do choose a difference based of our past experience and what we think we ‘know.’ Those heaven-bent beliefs draw a line in the sand. Any and all threats to those beliefs get turned away like enemies at the gate.  Lines in the sand become walls and mirrors until the brain can only see its own reflection. It cautions, “Don’t let anything outside, in.” 

Turning your brain off, the mind is more open and willing to allow such enemies their attention. You smile easier, laugh more readily, criticize less. A shift is taking place. With some it’s like tectonic plates shifting, with others, it’s the opening of a closed window letting fresh air in. Beliefs are attitudes in disguise, you see. Your experience shapes your attitude, which shapes your beliefs. And holding a belief requires no introspection. And guess what? There’s really only one belief that matters. That belief is the belief in yourself. I’m close to saying that beliefs, really, shouldn’t matter at all. For believing in something, even oneself, doesn’t consent to action. Action produces belief, not the other way around. Saying you believe in something is different than acting in lockstep with that belief. And we will, as individuals do, interpret another’s moral beliefs to be false according to their actions. Believe in the “Golden Rule” but someone interprets your actions as tragically rusted and hollow. Or simply yet, believe in the “Golden Rule” and you know you don’t act in its accordance. Why? It’s due to logic’s tenacious power over us. T.D Suzuki mentions in his book An Introduction to Zen Buddhism that “Man thinks logically but acts biologically.” I can think it and understand it and totally grasp it… but, I do not follow through because nature overrides the rule. 

Have you ever tried meditating? And do you find it hard to do? I do. Do you take a somewhat askance view of the word ‘meditation’ or ‘mindfulness’ or any of the fluffy words related? I don’t blame you if you do. Logic wants me to judge myself by how “well” I meditate, what results I reap. That logic pushes me into the state of trying too hard. Therein lies the illusion = I’m bringing tools along an adventure in which I’m already perfectly equipped. Rather, it’s not that I don’t need any tools or extra stuff, I am without need. Logic tries, while biology does. Let’s try not.  Better yet, let’s remove any understanding of meditation. Remove all preconceptions, logic, rationale, if-then’s and cause-and-effects of the word. Leave those tools at the gate. Because, the problems we intend to solve are not problems at all. Meditation isn’t meant to unveil any hidden truths or secrets, or to solve any problem. It is a place where (like our interpretation of what heaven or meditation is) the mind and body free themselves from any logic, any reprimand, any worldly issue. 

This walk and conversation aren’t pursued to enlighten each other on the definition of meditation itself. The subject we are encountering is called dualism. We see it all around us and we see it when we look in the mirror; the mind is separate from the body. Physical and mental, right brain/left brain, thinking and doing, act and react, war and peace, tangible and intangible, heaven and hell. Buddhist’s prescribe another word to dualism – delusion. Delusion is having some skewed, if not fairy-tale view of things while reality tells another story. A look in the mirror only enlists judgment – ugly, pretty, strong, soft, wrinkles, haggard, crooked nose, nice teeth, and on and on. If someone is delusional, we think they possess some inaccurate view of things. “You’re delusional if you think I’m going to take a pay cut!”  “There’s no substitute for hard work!” But delusion isn’t necessarily an inaccurate or skewed view, it’s possessing a viewpoint at all. It’s describing something with prescription; you don’t simply see a human or ‘yourself’ in the mirror you see a certain ‘type’ of human. And that broadly over-catalyzes or sinks that belief in oneself. If it weren’t a mirror it could be a spreadsheet or scoreboard. We see ourselves only in the everyday reflection’s life provides - results, albeit opinionated results. It’s not only a failure to confront reality, it’s a failure of our ability to think broadly and in different terms and conditions. It’s the mind pregnant, set in its ways. It’s wanting one thing (logic) while reality – i.e. you (biology) - tells a different story. 

    Dualism isn’t meant to harm or to contrast. With most, it does help us understand – to put things in categories and definitions and to grasp certain subjects. But these definitions only play in the rational-make-sense arena of logic. We then take the exaggerated opinion assigning other qualities to such categories. This is where bias gets its name. If someone is short, then they are feisty. If someone is muscular, then they are dumb. Without pre-cognition we assign such beliefs as facts. And then we attempt to change the ‘facts’ that we don’t like about ourselves or about the world, reflecting the mirror’s likes or dislikes.

    Let’s say you’re the starting quarterback for a football team. You’re good. You’ve earned the spot and the confidence of your teammates. You’re capable, confident, accurate and poised, all qualities needed for the position, excuse me, needed to succeed at the position. But there’s another backup QB, younger, athletic, sporadic, but also very capable. There’s no denying that you’re the starter and he’s the backup. This helps create chemistry, routine and success. We know our roles and we stick to them, for the team comes first. Each of you know you must prove your worthiness on every down, every game, every practice. Natural competition. It exits just as much as trees compete to reach the sun. Competition pushes the starter as much as it pushes the backup. To compete, to win, to improve – the aspects that give vigor and life to our undertakings. 

Now, if the starter plays all the downs and the backup sits idly on the sidelines, then the backup doesn’t fully engage and develop. But neither does the starter. Each has their own frame of reference while watching or while doing. They’re engaged in different learning and thus, different outcomes or success. The starter’s success based on his play on the field; the backup’s success based on his progress towards being the starter and helping the team. There is constant dualism here. For one can’t imagine nor create a space where each QB plays equal time. And you being the starter, will fail to see how benching yourself or sitting on the sidelines is helpful. Especially when you’re playing great, and your goals are aligned with you playing, not watching. The internal dualism projects a difference between playing and watching. It protects oneself, sidelining perspective and objectivity in protection of pride. But what if you saw, felt, and wholeheartedly knew that there is no difference between you playing and you sitting? 

    Timothy Gallwey wrote The Inner Game of Tennis, and within his writing it becomes evident that we’re in a constant mode of “Self 1” (the striving, opinionated Self) trying to make a better “Self 1.” And we disallow Self 2 – the natural, unattached, non-judgmental Self – to simply play, observe and adapt. Self 1, while sitting on the sidelines will be thinking about what he’ll do when he gets in the ballgame or various random intermittent judgments about themselves, the game or the QB now playing. In the judging and analysis, one gets wrapped up into grandeur of positive or negative emotions. The QB playing the game, if making mistakes, will start to harness the power of negative thinking and become stiff and rigid in their play. As well, if playing great, the slack loosens and he starts throwing riskier passes. With confidence comes exaggeration (just google ‘myth of the hot hand’) and with errors comes over-criticism. We must come to a point of seeing that mistakes aren’t mistakes; an interception is simply a pass thrown to the wrong team. It is nothing more than that. Yes, a dropped pass has less consequence than an interception, but only to the extent that everyone judges it so.  

Take a less athletic form of exercise and you’re the CEO of an organization. How do you interpret how you are getting the “ball” to the right people at the right time for them to make the best decisions and plays possible? As CEO, you’re the QB of the organization after all. Is it not your job to diagram and call out plays and get the ball to the right players (employees)? It is less clear organizationally how well each player receives the ball and performs. Sure, metric and measure the shit out of a role and come up with KPI’s, but there still in-lies a problem; measurement (i.e. dualism’s cousin). Because it – measurement – will always fail to grasp the level of potential reached within each of us. A healthy bottom-line doesn’t indicate health of an organization, nor does the completion percentage measure the greatness of a quarterback. Ask each employee why they play the game and you’ll get answers as variable and different as colors of a rainbow. Rarer, I bet, is their answer, “to maximize profits.” Ask. Truly ask and don’t take someone’s first response. Ask a quarterback, “Have you reached, or, are you reaching you potential as an athlete?” How would they measure themselves? 

The initial responses will be to tell of all the records, stats and games won. Tangible responses. But, how do they – how do each of us – know oh well we’re doing according to our potential? According to our goals and desires? Scratch that… how well according to Self 2? And, why do we judge ourselves by relation to these “goals”? Why judge by relation to position – the role of the starter/CEO versus the role of the backup, the benchwarmer? 

Respond with records but buried in your subconscious is a different reason you play the game. Success and records and achievements are such material, fleeting possessions. They may be in record books but if the record books were burned, what would they be? Nothing. Just memories and a past that very few can actually recall. And why build oneself up upon historical records when today – the living present, is all that matters. This is the contrasting Presence vs. Productivity dilemma inherent in our sociology and psychology. Because Presence and Productivity don’t only enlist our judgment of time, it bleeds into a judgment upon ourselves. And either good or bad judgment pigeonholes a person, baggage thrown on top of one’s shoulders. The “I” or “Self 1” maintaining too much dominance - a hinderance to experience, to the doing.

As CEO, you may judge yourself by performance metrics - ROI, ROA, growth, bottom-line and employee satisfaction surveys. But what if you simply observed your mechanics and you operated day to day? Where did you spend time, what were your mechanics, follow-through, mindset and preconditions? Without judgment, without criticism, as objective as humanly possible. What are you noticing as you release the ball to employees and surrounding team? How does it sound? What’s optimal sound? How are your feet positioned? What are you actually doing?

There are certain job-requirements for each position, combined with throughput into a larger context of organizational/team goals. In order to get the ball to my receivers and running backs, in order to lead this group, in order to perform at a high level, one needs … What does one need? Skill-set and demeanor. Attitude and ability. 

What does one need to achieve their optimal potential? Focus. Awareness. Skill. Ability. Non-judgment. I like the word optimal versus maximum. Optimal opens a different, separate path. It strives for a hidden route, tailored only to you. Maximum can be measured by previous records or history or speed or length or strength. Optimal is less measure-bound, more personal. 

Is the daily dualism and delusion becoming more apparent? In this vein, it comes down to how well we respond to questions, thoughts, interpretations and the syphoning we do or don’t do. How are you using “I” and “We” in responses? Why include them anyway? Hey, I’m all for personal responsibility and being accountable. They are of utmost importance in living. But personal responsibility is different than blame or outcome. We’re all (or we should be) responsible for our actions and we (should) own them. We need to simply get better at objectivity. “I threw an interception,” is different than, “play call-reading of the defense-snap of the ball-feel in my hands-three-step drop-feet and balance-form-read of targets-throw-release-feel of the ball’s release-direction-accuracy-placement-caught/not caught.” The first answer is the brain’s reaction, the Self 1 identifying errors, the judgment. It’s like the ‘ol, “My fault, guys,” response. Take the blame, right. We’ve probably all heard the phrase, “Look out the window for credit and in the mirror for blame.” That’s the philosophy of giving credit to those around you, celebrate them, but when things go wrong have the shoulders to burden yourself with that blame (i.e., don’t fault others, fault yourself). As QB or CEO, (as that’s part of the job) you’re holding that responsibility by rite of position. But there’s a difference between taking the blame and feeling the guilt of failure. It’s the hidden aspect of confidence and belief in oneself. I can take the risk and pressure, but I won’t drown myself by them. Let it pass through you like water over a cliff. It can be reckless and crashing, but you don’t ride the water, you are the water. Allow yourself to both crash and smooth out. The second answer is more objective – the interception was the result (like belief), but the millisecond actions were the experience. The experience is all that matters.

The stat line will show the interception and that’s the mirror we see. It’s hard to ignore that rational state of mind. That logic forces us to fix the problem; it forces us to notice the problem and then be harnessed by it. For the wins and successes, we attribute the results to hard work, good coaching, skill and determination – the qualities we admire and that we think lead to such wins.  For the losses and failures, we attribute the results to opposing un-admirable qualities – I didn’t work hard enough, wasn’t good enough, wasn’t determined enough. There’s too frequent dualism in these interpretations. What’s bad is frowned upon; what’s good, adored. They are nearly doors to walk through – the party in one room, defeatedness in the next. Enemies, opposites. Emotions runneth over and through and controlling. 

What if you played the game differently? I run, as you may know. Running’s success is completed time-based; the fastest = the best. But aging (or maturity) changes a runner’s perspective because the attainment of such speed is less likely, more difficult. If speed isn’t the goal, what is? By no means am I giving myself an excuse, saying it’s ok not to excel, to push myself towards greatness. I’m saying that the definition changes and changes you. The aging process changes your outlook and for good reason, if not rational. Optimal versus Maximum, again.

We’re still on our stroll, talking and listening to each other, our eyes directed most often at the moving ground ahead of our feet. It gives each of us the ability to focus and listen, keen on not stepping in a hole and twisting an ankle, while immersed in our conversation.  The brain can’t multitask so it’s the natural distraction it needs to focus on the ground beneath and ahead. Sometimes we glance around and notice the tree’s, the weather, the cars passing by. I don’t think of things to say, simply engaged and interested. 

Playing the game differently is like being mad without being angry, involved yet emotionally restrained. Not held back, but explicit and thorough, like an explorer making the necessary arrangements and preplanning for what seems like a risky adventure. And I think this is the most critical of skills to develop, to play the game differently and unique to your own self. As I said it before, the only belief that matters is the belief in oneself. Call it what you want, you climb the slope, or ski down it. How well you play that game is left to your own muse or judgment or thoughts, if you wish to understand it. I view work, like life, much in the context of digging in the dirt and gardening – I don’t want to grow the biggest or best garden, I just want to eat well and eat what nature provides. I want the experience of digging in the dirt and the effort that it takes. I used to think I was very much an achievement-oriented person. But turns out I’m not. I just want the experience of striving for something, not its fruits or its rewards. That might sound callous and foolhardy, but I don’t really care. And I don’t try to explain it either or provide (even myself) a reason for doing things. It’s the intent of not trying to prove anything to this dominant “Self 1,” who tries to intervene at every moment. 

The world needs to be experienced as do your emotions and attempts. In that vein, you need to experience [fill in the blank] – “life.” And you need to be able to negotiate with it, the facts, the figures, the rationales, the reasons, the results, your emotions and the accuracy of your own view. The game of life is to be played, and you’re not a spectator. You’re the main character in the story, be it villain or hero/heroin. Along the course of life, you’ll be both. For it compensates us in experience to play both parts. Every situation and some relationships require you to be casted differently. Accept it and turn it on. 

There is an intuition that lies ahead of you waiting to be released. This is the “Self 2” that fills a sphere without any conscious reasoning. It doesn’t need a reason. And with that illusive fact, neither do you. You don’t need to justify, explain or analyze. Just do. Just play. See the forest through the trees and the beauty in the challenge. See. Theatre and the acting profession have this term called ‘aesthetic distance,’ which identifies the separation between the reality of the work and the artists’ and audiences’ attachment to the work. There is a closeness between the performance and how we feel towards it. Stories and movies and the arts have this way of attaching themselves to our innermost selves. They make us laugh, cry, and sometimes sweat incomprehensibly. The artist attaches themselves to the performance based off its success or the critic’s opinion. The audience attaches themselves to the artist or the performance because of how they/it make(s) them feel. The stronger the pull (from either side), the more conscious detaching you, and the artist, need to perform. Life will manipulate you, if you let it. And it’s clearly the reason-driven faulty nature of Self 1 trying, attempting, striving, and worrying about the justification of efforts. 

There is a better, simpler path to trek, but it relies on the keen awareness of an adventurer in a lost wilderness. The best/most, , the maximum, the fastest, the greatest – of which we think are the hierarchies of life, are indeed not. The longitude of experience is what matters. That might include being the best, but it could also not. The thoroughness of living is what matters. Know what it’s like. Don’t worry about how good or bad you are. That’s just Self 1 trying to judge. There are no limits to our potentials, just endure. The optimal space where you reside is playing different roles, the CEO, the backup QB or the antihero/heroin. Now, your skill set might not be where it needs to be in order to play all the parts and play them well. But who cares. Put your mind in the place of the hero/heroin or the anti-hero/heroin and the savior or the devil. Just play the fucking game and go to work. 

Forget everything you know. Put beliefs aside and the language you’ve often used. Just work, just act. Hold yourself accountable to yourself. Don’t rely on past experiences. Do the work today, each day. I just listened to Tim Ferriss’ podcast with Jerry Seinfeld and Jerry told a story of Mitzi Shore, owner of The Comedy Store in LA at the time, who told him, “You’re the kind of person that needs someone to step on you and I’m going to be that person.” And that, there, is the incredible experience that life provides. For unless you’ve been stepped on, how do you know what it’s like, and how you’ll respond? And there’ll be a time, a relationship, where you need to do the stepping, too. Feel what it’s like but don’t think yourself mighty. Self-belief is not self-indulgence. Because you are both the backup and the starter, opposites connected to one mind.