Remember the time when you were just out of college? The time when you got the first job? The boo-boodee-boo of the heart, the sparkle in the eyes, the I-will-take-on-the-world spirit, the spring in the walk -- as you stepped into the workplace? And remember how the boss or supervisor or senior shook your hands and welcomed you so warmly into the organization, introduced you to colleagues and showed you your seat? Life looked set to take off. The Boss looked like friend, philosopher, guide, mentor, God... all rolled into one.
If, after so many years at the grind, your opinion about this particular species still remains the same: well, you are one of those rare, fortunate breed that has hit the gold fault, God Bless You, you must have performed some very pious deeds in your previous incarnation. But if you are like most of us out here in the world, chances are that by the time you have spent a few years in as many companies and workplaces, the sheen and the polish would have eroded from the character who decides not only the workload, the nature of work, and the raise one can enjoy, and in most cases also whether one stays or one goes, but also one's peace of mind.
People have spent their entire lifetime studying the Boss tribe. Careers have been built, and lots of money has been made in writing books, availing of research grants, teaching the subject of leadership at management schools, giving presentations to CEOs at lecture circuits... all focusing on this curious specimen called the "boss" or the "leader".
Energy is expended in coming up with profound insights and anecdotes and high-falutin' words and interesting turns of phrases, with the objective of getting quoted around the world in prestigious journals and magazines of the kind that are found on the coffee table in the business-class cabins of executive aircrafts, and which raise higher their popularity quotient, and by implication, their fees. The title of "Management Guru", that too, conferred by peers, is a coveted one in this community. All that is very good, but what do you about the devil sitting in that corner office???
The "what" is answered to some extent by self-help. The self-help books and the self-help advisors exist on both sides of the chasm. Unbeknown to us, just as we are trying to figure out what makes that man or woman tick, he or she too is, or must be, or should be, crouching over some personnel management magazine or best-seller paperback that dwells on how to drive us - the workforce - to achieve results. In about the same way that we go through the numerous articles and books that give ample advice on "how to manage the boss"; the boss too is, or must be, or should be, attending seminars and workshops over the weekends to enhance their skills on people management.
All this rationalization is fine, but the question still remains unanswered: What To Do When The Boss Dictates Your Peace Of Mind? We could always up and walk out the door of course, and to hell with this psychoanalysis of the boss! But then we may have our own motivation to continue with the job: we need it to run the home and the hearth and there is no other option on the horizon for the time being. Or, despite the Boss factor, the job is still convenient because of x, y or zee reasons.
Or we are still waiting for the outcome of the interview we had appeared in, the other day. Or we may have - unbeknown to us - fallen in love with the boss, never mind what happens to the boss every full moon. Oh, you never know, the heart neither understands logic nor reason, and then there are so many twists and turns in everybody's life, aren't there?
Actually, come to think of it, the answer to this question is very simple. Don't Let Them! Don't Let Them Dictate Your Peace Of Mind! Deny them the pleasure of having disturbed your peace of mind. Deny them the pleasure of seeing your face falling or your skin reddening or your body shaking or whatever it is that happens when the boss applies their deathly weapon on you.
My take is that the boss, for whatever period he or she is there in our life, is there to make us aware of our own attitude towards authority figures. Every encounter is a lesson that shines the spotlight on something that we are supposed to learn. And when the lesson has been learnt -- either we understand how to effectively manage this human being, or we realize that there is a limit to our tolerance and we fling the resignation letter in their face and leave, or we learn the dynamics of living and the beauty of adjustment in the particular circumstance -- the purpose of the boss' existence in our life is over. We part ways with this particular boss. And the next boss steps into our life. Or does not.
In the midst of all this, the key is to never let go of the peace of the mind. For it is only when we detach ourselves from the situation, do we actually send out the subtle signal to the other party that sorry, I am not game for this kind of behavior or this quality of interaction. It is entertaining indeed to observe how the boss responds to such a signal that is consistently coming from us! Wouldn't be a surprise if, after a few of these episodes, the boss begins to tiptoe around us as if we were a minefield, while simultaneously carrying on with their very same old merry behavior with the rest of the employees! I am simplifying here; but you get the drift.
Try it. And remember that, if you are at all career-oriented and an organization-person for the long-term, you will be Boss one day yourself! Unless you are already one. Good for you, for if you discover tomorrow that one of your juniors is suddenly behaving oddly differently to your usual barking; you will know where they read the tip from! And you will also know now the why, and what to do about it! Go easy on them, please.
If you are either on the threshold of forty or, like me, already crossed and left behind that magic milestone of age, then you will relate to what I am saying here. Celebrate, for this is true liberation time, folks!
You and I both know how it was when life began. Till a certain age, we were so dependent on the others to take care of our basic needs. And then we were sent to school or work and made to study subjects or perform tasks without consulting us or without asking us about our interests. (As if we knew then what was good for us! :-) But that apart...)
And then the hormones began surging, and we were motivated to do things that we now chuckle about or feel our ears go red about. Love may or may not have happened. Marriage may or may not have happened. Divorce may or may not have happened. Kids may or may not have happened. Career in a chosen domain may or may not have zoomed to the skies. Material comforts may or not have been accumulated.
Having expended all our energies, not to mention our hormones, in career and relationships and material-comfort-accumulation, here we are. On the verge of or crossed forty. And we assess our present station in life. Are we happy wherever we are? Are we happy in whatever we are doing?
If we discover that, yes, indeed we are happy, yes, indeed our life has turned out the way we wanted it to be or the way the world around us wanted it to be, then let us pat ourselves in the back and move on. And if we discover that no, we are stuck, we are tied down, that things could have been different, that we deserve to lead a life better than what it is at the present moment... then it is time to redefine our "mission for this life".
It is quite likely that the earlier support systems have been withdrawn, so this time around there will not be anybody to lead us by the forefinger to some destination that may not be to our liking. It is quite likely that circumstances do not appear quite-so-overwhelming, because we have either become used to them by now, or because we have figured some way to overcome them.
There used to be time when people would babble about somebody who one fine morning quit their steady, secure, nine-to-five desk-job and began doing something radically different: like joining a local music band, for example. Or someone suddenly left a thriving profession as medical practitioner to become a real estate broker. Listening to such tales, I used to often wonder just what it was that happened to these persons in the night before, when they went to bed. Did the Devil get hold of them?
Now I know. These persons must have rediscovered themselves. They must have found their true calling in life. They must have realized that whatever they were doing; was not enough.
If you have touched or come ahead past the age of forty, and if you haven't already assessed what you really need and want from life, my suggestion is to set aside some time this coming weekend... and conduct this exercise. The Devil will not get you; but you will certainly emerge rejuvenated.
He doesn't have an entry in Wikipedia. Yet. The present entry in Wiki under the name, "Dalton James", belongs to a 1971-born actor. But the way he is going, I am sure one day somebody somewhere will post an entry about him out there.
Say hello to Dalton James from Oak Ridge, Tennessee. Dalton is seven going onto eight, and studies in the first or the second grade at Woodland Elementary School in his hometown. And he has authored a full-color, children's paperback, "The Sneakiest Pirates", with its own ISBN number! Priced USD 10.95, the book is already available in the all the major outlets, both offline and online. The cartoon faces on the book cover cheekily stand out in the crowd of the more somber subjects such as "Community Psychology", "Mind over Markets" and "Personal Financial Planning" written by other James and Daltons namesakes - try googling his name on Amazon, and wow at the august assembly the kid is in already!
The 20-page book's plot is about a father-and-son duo tracking down a treasure looted by the villain named Peg Leg Chuck.
Sigh. And here I am. Last weekend, I deleted two whole chapters - worth nearly three months of effort - of my fiction work because I had woven in them a character which my inner critic now says "doesn't make sense, very superficial, distracts from the main theme, where is your plot going?". "Still doesn't have any depth in it, Sanjay. Why don't you stick to your software development and your systems analysis and designing and coding and support? Stick to manual writing and technical documentation, not creative writing. Who told you that you could be a writer too? This is just not your line, dude. Sheeesh! What an utter, sheer, imbecile waste of time!" No such self-examination, introspection, self-critiquing for young Dalton. He simply went ahead and did it.
And there is another project - a non-fiction, in the genre of self-development. Two years, and the chapters are still at the stage of notes-making. And this young Dalton, he is already working on a second book whose title he has already thought of - "The Heroes of Googly Woogly", and whose subject he has already made up his mind about: outer space. Talk of inspiration!
Though the young author's first book-signing ceremony was reserved only for peers at the school, I am sure there will be more occasions where you can join the queue to have your own copy with Dalton's signature on it.
Wouldn't be surprised if Oprah's people call upon Dalton one of these days. That is now the ultimate American dream today, isn't it: to shake hands with Oprah and appear on her show. And why not? Dalton, you deserve it boy!
The phrase "midlife crisis" carries the baggage of negative connotation.
The "midlife" alludes to being poignantly poised at some center point of life. You look back to see the bubbliness of childhood, the frothiness of love and the heat of sex, the effervescence of marriage and or divorce and or children and or remarriage, the trepidation of moving through swing doors hopping from one job to another, the excitement of climbing up or down the career ladder, the thrill of having paid off the mortgage on the house or going deeper in debt... the works.
And then you look ahead to see a vast terrain of the unknown.
The "crisis" alludes to a realization that things are not the same anymore. Something is changing. The mental gears are shifting to a different level of rhythm. The body's hormones have begun secreting different juices, or stopping to secret them altogether. The stamina and the gung-ho spirit now appear to wear down, and the hither to fore wild cry has a tired edge to it. The tendency to "take it easy". What's the hurry? We'll do it tomorrow. Care for a fag?
It is when the realization hits you that your outlook towards the world is a changing, that a shift begins to happen: from "your packaging to your essence", as author Maggie Crane puts it so beautifully. Whether you were a macho hunk or a doll in your first half of life, you may have spent it focusing on the outward packaging. But then midlife is the time when you begin focusing on your essence, no not the smells, but your core being.
Try as much to escape, but reality catches up sooner or later. It is not the "looking" attractive that matters anymore, it is the "feeling" attractive that makes all the difference. Think Viagra - or its feminine version which is said to be on the way - will help? Don't delude yourself, folks; while the drug does things to your nerves and blood vessels temporarily, it doesn't help overcome the feeling of emptiness, and it gives you all those side-effects besides. Read up your PubMed!
The moment we decide that we are good and attractive the way we physically are, the moment we feel good and attractive to ourselves, is the moment we become good and attractive to the whole wide world. The next time we see ourselves in the mirror, instead of self-pitying the change in the hair color or the wrinkle or the crow's feet or the two curvy brackets enclosing the mouth, if we accept ourselves gracefully the way we have become, and begin to feel good about ourselves the way we are... is the time when true beauty emerges.
It is not the packaging... as Maggie says ... it is the essence that counts.
This is an inspiring story of a mother who got tired of asking her kids to, for their own sake, tone down the volume of whatever it was they were listening. Seeing that her shouting only hoarsened her throat and nothing else besides, she decided to do something more constructive. And how!
Christine Ingemi, the 39-year-old mother from Amherst, New Hampshire, researched on ear buds that would refuse to increase the volume of sound beyond a certain safe level, never mind what the input volume coming from the sound system is. Concluding that there wasn't such a product available at all, she simply went ahead and invented one for her kids.
The entrepreneur bug bit her, of course. Realizing that there was money to be made, she applied for a patent, floated a company, anointed herself its president, got a website designed to promote the product, showcased her product in invention contests, and went to market.
The result? This mother's product has sold over one hundred thousand pieces all over US and Canada. The ear buds have won her the third prize in the "Modern Marvels Invent Now Challenge", 2007. Enthused by success, finally having located the perfect mantra that gives professional acclaim, respect and moolah rolled in one, she has her sights set on new inventions already!
Must be heavy reluctance, to leave aside the tasks of home-making, the dusting and the mopping, no? And to have to jet to exotic locales and stand at the podium and deliver keynote addresses to hundreds of peers, and to clink glasses with business honchos who want to know about one's next idea...? Do the kids miss their mom's shouting at them, or do they mind her being away for long durations? No, they must be lapping up all the attention their mother is getting on the TV! Imagine them bragging about it in school!
We think inventing a new gadget or a widget or device is best left to the nerds or the geeks or the people who spend all their time in the libraries. You know, the ones who earn the creamiest scores in SAT and GRE and GMAT. Actually no, turns out that it is not the speed of the left brain's neural circuits that matters, but it is the creative idea of the right lobe that makes all the difference.
Wouldn't be surprised if one fine morning the news wires flash the press release about Ingemi Corporation, Christine's company, making an initial public offering, with the green shoe option please. Here's wishing you all the best, Christine! The point is that, if Christine can do it, so can you and I. All it takes is an idea, and belief in oneself.
This is like being caught in a cleft. On the one hand is the spiraling-out-of-control oil price, threatening to stop the engine of quite a few economies around the world. And on the other hand is the growing alarm about the negative impact of biofuel crops on environment; biofuel crops that were once hailed as the perfect, natural solution to our fuel needs are now suspect.
In their first gush of profound observations and statements using exotic terminology such as "well to wheels analysis" and "cradle to grave analysis", scientists told us that not only do biofuel crops work out cheaper than fossil fuels; they also are eco-friendly. Science drives economy, and so farmers around the world got busy chopping down forests and grasslands, and generally converting their real estate usage from growing food to growing biofuels. Governments put in place legislations that encourage people to convert to biofuel crops on mass scale. Now fields as afar as Guangzhou in China and Ahmednagar in India and Darwin in Australia are proud owners of exotic plantation such as jatropha.
While the standing crop is still waiting to go under the harvester's thresher, comes another gush of analyses which say that no, no, no, these biofuels crops are not eco-friendly, that they will actually heat up the atmosphere and melt the poles, that some parts of the plant (nuts and leaves) are so toxic that farmers shouldn't touch them with bare hands, that they are susceptible to wildfires and therefore a huge risk to nearby populations, that the solution is worse than the problem it had set out to solve.
Sigh. Sorry guys, but why don't you make up your minds once and for all?
While one set of scientists refute, point by point please, the claims made by the other set, we cannot but now wait till they have sorted it out amongst themselves. And while this goes on, airlines are either hiking ticket prices or curtailing flights or both, oil companies are rationing supply of fuels, the friendly neighborhood petrol pump keeps hiking the price of gas every twenty-four hours, and we are slowly and gradually descending into the Middle Age.
It is obvious that there is something inherently wrong in the premise on which the biofuel theory is based. Isn't it time we turned our attention and time and money to some other mechanism which can help us generate energy as naturally as tiny plants do through their tender leaves? With our enormous brains and creativity, why should this task be so difficult?
The X-Prize Foundation has recently announced a USD 100 million prize to any individual or team who or which can come up with a solution that can generate the same or better quantum of energy compared to an equivalent unit of fossil fuel, be cheaper, and also possess none of the eco-hostility of the traditional fuels. Let's hope it motivates the right brains before it is too late.
During the physics class, it would amuse me no end when our lecturer would jot down a few equations on the board, and then proceed to tell us pompously how one equation followed from the other, "quite logically". For the life of me, I could never figure out quite how the logical progression happened. My more intelligent peers would nod understandingly, in a way that intelligent people nod when they hear something profound, which made me feel even more sheepish. It was much later when I replaced the word "logic" in his content with "empirical observations", that I began to understand the connection.
Actually once you realize that entire science is based on empirical observations, and that scientists use them to formulate a set of axioms which you decide to believe in, then understanding all their gobbledygook becomes very easy. The trick is to be always aware what these guys construe as axiom and what they construe as hypothesis. The interesting part of the game is, that what was considered an absolute, irrefutable axiom till yesterday (remember that light was supposed to travel in a straight line?), becomes shaky today.
And these physicists are now seeking to create a toy for themselves. This toy is in the form of a pair of pipes being laid in a circle-shaped tunnel about one hundred meters underground between the borders of Switzerland and France. The tunnel has a circumference of 27 kilometers, and a diameter of 3.8 meters. So the toy is, uh, kinda huge. Goes by the fancy name of "Large Hadron Collider" too. Obviously somebody grew up on a diet of science fiction and Asimov. What the wise men and women will do with the pipes is to start a beam of sharply focused light in each of the two pipes. The beams, steady streams of protons bunched together, will be guided to travel in opposite directions such that they collide with each other at four points in the journey.
And pray what will happen as a result of the collision? The theory - or the hope - is that it will result in the creation of a special particle of mass that is heavy by subatomic standards. This particle is technically called the Higgs Boson particle, which a physicist in a particularly eloquent mood christened "the God particle".
They say the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) experiment seeks to recreate the early stage of the Universe's conception, you know, just as the crown was about to come out. The existence of the particle will be proved when the contraption's computers detect its decay. Not when it has been formed, but after having formed, when it begins decaying. How ironic. And what if its existence is proved? The scientists will pat each other on the back that their theory about God has been proved right. This queue please for the Nobel. And if its existence is not proved? Well, they will still pat themselves on the back on the theory continuing to remain to be proved. Tomorrow is going to be yet another day, and so yet another toy.
[The 'November 26, 2007' mentioned in the narrative above was the earlier date of launch of the LHC]
There are a few doomsday predictors who think the whole experiment might unleash something evil and macabre which might even gobble up the earth whole. Now haven't we heard this line before? In another age, another time?
We ordinary mortals really shouldn't mind these scientists and their toys. For it was their little games that gave us all these material comforts. You know, the bulb and the AC and the oven and the car and the TV and the computer and the internet and the cell phone and ... So what's a few billion dollars here and there?
The show is scheduled to begin sometime in June 2008. So take the ringside seat folks, get that popcorn bag and the Coke, and get ready for a face-to-face with this God particle! Hopefully we will live to tell the tale to the grandchildren.
