The Practicing Mind: Developing Focus and Discipline in Your Life (4 page)
Read The Practicing Mind: Developing Focus and Discipline in Your Life Online
Authors: Thomas M. Sterner
Tags: #Education & Teaching, #Schools & Teaching, #Certification & Development, #Education Theory, #Educational Psychology, #Science & Math, #Behavioral Sciences, #Personal Transformation, #Teacher Resources, #Professional & Technical, #Education, #Professional Development, #Professional Science, #Cognitive Science, #Science, #General, #Success, #Self-Help, #Personal Growth, #Cognitive Psychology, #Psychology
Back in the midseventies, there was a real upheaval going on in the business world of manufacturing. Everyone wanted Japanese automobiles because they were noticeably higher in quality than American ones. American auto manufacturers were scrambling to understand why this was so and how to fix it. But this wasn’t a situation
limited to the auto in
dustry. Japanese pianos were becoming popular in this country. Some of them had names people had never heard before and couldn’t even pronounce properly, but they could see the quality difference in them regardless. The Japanese were very process-oriented in their lives and work. We had trouble competing with them because we couldn’t duplicate their work environment or their mindset, which was so different from ours.
A major piano retailer for whom I performed service related a story to me that really illustrated the primary differences between the two cultures. He had gone to Japan and taken a tour of a plant that manufactured a piano he sold in his store. While walking down the assembly line, he observed a worker whose job was to prepare the piano plate (the big gold harp assembly that holds all the strings) after it had come out of the casting. These plates are made from cast iron, and when they come out of the mold, they are pretty rough looking. The plate must undergo grinding and polishing before it can be painted. The finished Japanese plates are absolutely flawless and beautiful. As the worker prepared a plate, my retailer friend asked him how many plates he finished in a day. The Japanese worker, confused, looked at him and answered, “As many as I can make perfect.”
The retailer asked, “But don’t you have a supervisor to report to?”
“What is a supervisor?” asked the worker.
“Someone to make sure you do your job correctly,” answered the retailer.
“Why would I nee
d someone to make sure I do my job correctly?” answered the Japanese worker. “That’s my job.”
We can’t begin to conceive of a mindset like this. If it took all day to make one perfect plate, he had done his job correctly and fulfilled the company’s expectations of his position. The job required him to focus his mind in the present and keep it there. By practicing this right thinking, he produced the best work and maintained a fresh, uncluttered mind. One perfect plate was more important than twenty acceptable ones.
The Japanese use of the goal (in this case, a perfect plate) as their rudder and their knowledge that this patient approach would yield a much stronger result in the long run enabled them to outcompete American factories. They completely upset the automotive and music industries, not to mention the electronics industry.
We, on the other hand, can’t wait that long for anything. We want the product, and we want it now. Skip the process altogether and get to the product. We are obsessed with getting everything immediately. Credit card debt soars and ruins many people in this country because it feeds on this mindset of “Get it now and pay for it later.” Credit cards work on the premise of product
before
process, instead of process first. This mentality leads only to a general sense of nonfulfillment and emptiness. We have all experienced a situation where we wanted something very much but didn’t have the money for it, so we charged it.
The fulfillment from a
ttaining the object is usually gone long before the first bill arrives.
We have phrases that describe our addiction to this mindset. “Instant gratification” is one of them. It would be more accurately stated as “Instant gratification, short-term satisfaction” because anything we acquire in this way has no real, lasting value to us. You can recall everything you worked hard and patiently for in your life, but how many things that you have attained with little or no effort can you remember? When we focus our energy on the process of attaining something, whether it be an object or a skill, and through patience and disciplinet itachieve it, we experience a joy that is just not present when something comes too quickly or easily. In fact, when we reminisce about something we tried to acquire, the process is what comes to mind, not the object itself. We remember our mastery of our undisciplined nature, the patience and perseverance that we developed, and the joy and satisfaction we experienced then. What we remember is timeless, because we experience it all over again.
I have no attachment to my first car, which I worked and saved for all summer twenty-five years ago, but I can remember every detail of the work I performed to earn the money. I worked three jobs simultaneously. When my friends were off to the beach or lounging around, I stuck with it, and by the end of the summer I was the only one driving my own car. Once, when I was getting a little impatient to buy a car before I really had enough money, my father said something very profound to me. He said, “You
are going to find out
that buying the car is much less satisfying than working for it.” He was right, and I never forgot those words. Once I bought the car, it was somewhat of a letdown compared with the anticipation of owning it that I had experienced while I was working toward the purchase.
The “get it now” perspective is not just an individual one. Our whole culture participates in it at many levels and in many ways. Corporations are more interested in short-term profits than the long-term health of their organizations and employees. Strangely, if you ask most people, they will agree that this attitude reigns in our society, but we seem to be on a runaway train. We need to pull the brake, and doing that must start within ourselves. Once we experience the shift to a present-moment, “process, not product” perspective, we know that it is right. We calm down. Our priorities adjust themselves, and we feel peaceful and fulfilled by what we have and where we are. That age-old saying “There is no destination in life; life is the destination” has real meaning.
So let’s go back to my golfing classmates. What could have changed their experience and motivated them to participate in their goal of improving their golf games? If they had made the shift into a “process, not product” mode, their mechanics would have followed. They would have stayed in the present and worked on their swings with deliberation and an awareness of their intention. Their feelings toward working at their golf swings would have changed, and their false sense that “Until I get good
at this, I am not goin
g to enjoy the game or feel like practicing” would have vanished. The shift to the “process, not product” mindset would have discarded such feelings, and instead of procrastinating their practice sessions, they would have looked forward to them.
In summary, creating the practicing mind comes down to a few simple rules:
• Keep yourself process-oriented.
• Stay in the present.
• Make the process the goal and use the overall goal as a rudder to steer your efforts.
• Be deliberate, have an intention about what you want to accomplish, and remain aware of that intention.
Doing these things will eliminate the judgments and emotions that come from a product-oriented, results-driven mind.
When you remain aware of your intention to stay focused on the present, it’s easy to notice when you fall out of this perspective. At such times you immediately begin to judge what and how well you are doing, and you experience impatience and boredom. When you catch yourself in these moments, just gently remind yourself that you have fallen out of the present, and feel good about the fact that you are now aware enough to recognize it. You have begun to develop the Observer within you, who will prove so important in your self-guidance.
Understand that this e
xercise, while not the easiest one you have ever undertaken, is probably the most important. As I said earlier, all the major philosophies and religions speak at great length about the value of focusing on the present in order to gain personal empowerment and inner happiness. If you do begin to succumb to discouragement, remember the words at the start of this chapter: The problem with patience and discipline is that developing each of them requires both of them.
As we attempt to un
derstand ourselves
and our struggles with life’s endeavors,
we may find peace in the observation
of a flower. Ask yourself:
At what point in a flower’s life,
from seed to full bloom,
does it reach perfection?
M
ost of the anxiety we experience in life comes from our feeling that there is an end point of perfection in everything that we involve ourselves with. Whatever or wherever that perfection may be, we are not. We continually examine, consciously or unconsciously, everything in our lives, compare it to what we feel is ideal, and then judge where we are in relation to that ideal. Having a bigger home, earning more income, and buying a certain kind of car are all normal parts of this routine.
There’s a very compelling scene in a famous movie (and novel)
The Natural
about a baseball player who is injured just as he begins to appear on the professional scene. He possesses almost mystical powers when it comes to playing baseball, and he is poised to become the most famous player who ever lived. But his injury happens during an embarrassing situation, so he disappears from view for many years. Eventually he comes back and, although
he is now middle-aged,
his incredible talents enable him to play on a pro team. He becomes a hero in short order, but his injury, which never fully healed, resurfaces and he ends up in the hospital.
It is here that I think a profound line is spoken. Reminiscing dejectedly with his childhood sweetheart about what might have been, he says, “I coulda been better. I coulda broke every record in the book.” Her response is so simple and yet so shattering: “And then?” That two word line carries such power. A runner breaks the four-minute mile, and then? A soloist plays her most difficult piece of music in concert without a mistake for the first time, and then? A golfer finally breaks 90, an entrepreneur makes his first million, and then? All these personal images of perfection dissolve quickly into a newer image: a faster time, a more difficult piece, a lower score, more money.
The problem with these ideal images is that they may not be realistic or even attainable, and in general they have nothing to do with true happiness. In fact, these images are handed to us by markng and the media. We watch all these perfect-looking people on TV and in the movies living their perfect lives. In TV advertisements, this illusion is presented even more strongly: “Buy this and your life will be great,” or, worse yet, “Without this, your life is incomplete.” Automobile commercials are particularly amusing in their overemphasis on these messages. They present ownership of their particular car as some sort of euphoric experience. In reality, we all know that cars are
terrible investments that
depreciate faster than anything else, and that when we purchase a new one, we spend most of our mental energy worrying that it will be stolen or damaged in the local mall parking lot. Plus, although in the commercial the driver cruised some deserted backroad full of farms, switchbacks, and autumn scenery, we sit in a traffic jam on the expressway. Still, ads continue to show us all the products we need to buy to complete our lives’ yearnings, from cars to clothes to beverages.
You can learn a lot about yourself by watching the commercials that come on during your favorite programming. You can be sure the advertiser has spent a lot of money finding out which personality profile watches a particular type of program before deciding which shows to sponsor. Advertisers also take it one step further by stipulating to networks which types of programming will attract an audience who will be receptive to their ads.
How we arrive at these ideal images of perfection, though, is not as important as becoming aware of how they distort our perspective of where we are on the road to happiness. If these images are used for inspiration, they can be very beneficial; but if they are used as a measuring device, they can become our downfall. For example, you could go out to a concert one evening and hear the performance of a world-class piano soloist. The next day, so moved by the performance the night before, you could decide to take up the piano. If you buy a CD of the soloist playing the performance you heard the previous night and use it to motivate yourself to practice, it could be a very
good thing. If, however,
you begin to analyze your progress based on how you play in relation to the soloist’s performance (something that is usually done unconsciously), you are headed for discontentment and may even become so frustrated that you give up on your efforts.
If you don’t believe that you do this, look more closely at yourself. We all do. That is why advertising works so well. It preys upon our sense that “all is not right until I get to such and such a point.” Whether that point is owning a particular item or reaching a particular status is not important. What is necessary in overcoming this nature is to become aware that we have the potential to perceive life in this manner and to know that our culture reinforces our tendencies toward it. We look in the mirror and judge our looks based on present fashion trends and whether we fit them. Go out on a golf course and you will see somebody slamming a club into the ground because he missed a particular shot that might have been way beyond his ability. His ideal and point of reference, however, is a pro he watched on TV who hits five hundred balls a day with a swing coach observing, and who plays five days a week. This is what I mean by unrealistic and perhaps unattainable ideal images. The amateur in question probably plays once a week, has had a few lessons, and hits maybe a hundred balls a week. Yet his or her standard is the epitome of the sport.
We make a major detour on the road to happiness when we adopt an image of perfection in anything. This is because an image or ideal is frozen and stagnant, and
limited by nature. An ide
al implies that it is as good as a particular circuma pce or thing can get. True perfection, in contrast, is limitless, unbounded, and always expanding. We can gain a much more productive and satisfying perspective by studying the life of a flower.
Reread the opening phrase for this chapter: As we attempt to understand ourselves and our struggles with life’s endeavors, we may find peace in the observation of a flower. Ask yourself: At what point in a flower’s life, from seed to full bloom, does it reach perfection?
Let’s see what nature teaches us every day as we walk past the flowers in our garden. At what point is a flower perfect? Is it perfect when it is nothing more than a seed in your hand waiting to be planted? All that it will ever be is there in that moment. Is it perfect when it first starts to germinate unseen under several inches of soil? This is when it displays the first signs of the miracle we call creation. How about when it pokes its head through the surface and sees the face of the sun for the first time? All its energies have gone into reaching for this source of life; until this point, it has had nothing more than an inner voice telling it which way to grow. What about when it begins to flower? This is when its individual properties start to be seen. The shape of the leaves, the number of blooms: all are unique to this one flower, even among the other flowers of the same species. Or is it the stage of full bloom, the crescendo of all the energy and effort the flower expended to reach this point in its life? Let’s not forget its humble and quiet ending, when it returns to
the soil from where it came. At what point is the flower perfect?
I hope you already know the answer: It is
always
perfect. It is perfect at being wherever it is and at whatever stage of growth it is in at that moment. It is perfect at being a seed, when it is placed into the ground. At that moment in time, it is exactly what it is supposed to be: a seed. Just because it does not have brightly colored blooms doesn’t mean it is not a good flower seed. When it first sprouts through the ground, it is not imperfect because it displays only the color green. At each stage of growth, from seed to full bloom and beyond, it is perfect at being a flower at that particular stage of a flower’s life. A flower must start as a seed, and it will not budge one millimeter toward its potential grandeur of full bloom without the nourishment of water, soil, sun, and also
time
. It takes time for all these elements to work together to produce the flower.
Do you think that a flower seed sits in the ground and says, “This is going to take forever. I have to push all this dirt out of my way just to get to the surface and see the sun. Every time it rains or somebody waters me, I’m soaking wet and surrounded by mud. When do I get to bloom? That’s when I’ll be happy; that’s when everybody will be impressed with me. I hope I’m an orchid and not some wildflower nobody notices. Orchids have it all . . . no, wait; I want to be an oak tree. They are bigger than anybody else in the forest and live longer, too”?
As silly as the flower’s monologue might sound, it is exactly what we do, and we do it, as they say, every day
and in every way. We consc
iously or unconsciously pick a point of reference in whatever we do and decide that nothing will be right until we get to that point. If you step back and observe your internal dialogue from time to time during the day, you will be amazed at how hard you work against yourself with this type of thinking.
When we are driving somewhere, we can’t wait to get
there
. Wherever
there
is, I doubt very much it often matters whether we arrive fifteen minutes later than we’d expected. Yet when I am driving on the highway, all around me people are pushing the speed limit to the maximum and probably never notice most of what they drive past. When I look in my rearview mirror, I see someone who is irritated with the world for getting in his way and exhausted by the stress and strain that impatience brings to his body and mind when he lives in this state. If you step back routinely during your day and observe where your attention is, you will be amazed at how few times it is where you are and on what you are doing.
When you develop a present-minded approach to every activity you are involved in and, like the flower, realize that at whatever level you are performing, you are perfect at that point in time, you experience a tremendous relief from the fictitious, self-imposed pressures and expectations that only slow your progress. At any point in the day when you notice you are feeling bored, impatient, rushed, or disappointed with your performance level, realize that you have left the present moment in your activity. Look at where your mind and energy are focused.
You will find that you hav
e strayed into either the future or the past. You might be subconsciously focused on the result or product you are trying to achieve. Such feelings often arise in activities that produce a tangible product, which could be anything from painting the house to losing weight. I class this as a distraction into the future because the product that you want to reach is pulling you out of the present and into the future. You want to get to “full bloom” and skip the rest of it.
Sometimes, though, it is not a tangible thing that pulls us away from the present, but a circumstance. Imagine this: You are standing in your kitchen preparing dinner and your child or spouse is telling you about his day. Are you looking into his eyes when he is talking to you? Are you fully listening to what he is sharing with you in this present moment, or are you half listening while you anticipate going someplace after dinner or thinking of something you said to someone at work that day that you regret?
Stop yourself during the day as much as you can and ask yourself, “Am I practicing flower-like qualities and staying in the present with my thoughts and energies?” Nature knows what works because it does not have an ego to deal with. It is our ego that makes us create false ideas of what perfect is and whether we have reached it. As I said earlier, true perfection is not finite. It is not a specific number, as in how much you weigh or how much you make. It is not a specific skill level that can be reached regardless of how long and how hard you pursue an activity. Any
high-level performers in a
ny sport or art form will tell you this: Their idea of perfection is always moving away from them; it is always based on their present experience and perspective. When we learn this truth, we really get on the path toward true, authentic happiness. We realize that, like the flower, we are just fine or, rather, that we are perfect when we are where we are and absorbed in what we are doing right at that moment. With this perspective, our impatience to reach some false goal that will not make us any happier than we are right now fades away.
We can learn so much from nature by simply observing how it works through a flower. The flower knows it is part of nature; we have forgotten that. Remember, the reason we bother ourselves with a lifelong effort to gain a practicing mind is not to be able to say, “I have mastered the technique of present-moment awareness.” This is an ego-based statement. We work at it for one reason: it brings us the inner peace and happiness that we cannot attain through the acquisition of any material object or cultural status. What we achieve is timeless, always with us, and perhaps the only thing that we can really call our own. The stamina needed to pursue a present-moment attitude daily comes naturally when we realize that our current attitudes leave us longing for something we can’t seem to put our finger on. Despite all our achievements and acquisitions in life, we still feel a longing to fill the emptiness inside. We may not have even consciously admitted our emptiness to ourselves, but our need for answers is still
there. If it were not, we
wouldn’t be reading material such as this book.