Sharpening the Saw, Covey's Habit Number 7

One of the current joys in my life is the dance group to which I belong. It grew from the NIA class at the Y. One of my fellow NIA classmates, who is in her eighties, suggested forming a dance group to our teacher and from there, things took shape. We performed last fall to major, major, MAJOR acclaim, which I think I’ve mentioned. No? Well, we did perform, and the audience was larger than expected, and the response was terrific. Possibly everyone who came to see our group of women ranging in age from early fifties to early eighties, was just so delighted we didn’t make complete asses of ourselves that their applause was a little louder than necessary. I don’t know. From my vantage point, on stage, with house lights off and stage lights on, I couldn’t see a thing except my co-dancers, and we looked terrific for a group of novices. At least we were having fun, being scared, rising to a challenge, bonding with each other, performing. Doing something different than usual and stretching ourselves creatively. We were sharpening the saw, as Stephen Covey would say. 

Sharpening the Saw is Covey’s Habit Number 7 of Highly Effective People. It’s about the spiral of renewal. Sharpening the saw hones and polishes what he considers the four dimensions—physical, mental, social or emotional, and spiritual. This habit encircles all of the other six habits and makes them possible. 

Now I wasn’t trying to sharpen my saw. I just followed my interest in NIA, my friendship with my NIA teacher, and the enthusiasm of the tall, elegant eighty-plus year old classmate who wanted to dance. But in doing so, I can see that I am indeed working all these elements. New friends, new movement, a different kind of creative activity, the challenge of assimilating and translating a piece of choreography all work these elements. 

So our little dance troupe meets weekly and since we haven’t been rehearsing we have been exploring different kinds of movement. This troupe is supposed to be a collective, but since only two of us are actual dancers and choreographers, the rest of us are happy to be clay or pawns or whatever. I should speak for myself and not for the others, I guess. I’m happy to be clay or a pawn. I just enjoy the movement and the cameraderie. I’ll do whatever. And so lately I’ve been doing Feldenkrais. 

Feldenkrais, brought to us by one of our leaders, is a type of bodywork. “Bodywork” is a word, by the way, that can only be used seriously by dancers; otherwise, it sounds ridiculous. Feldenkrais was a Russian dude with bad knees who figured out a way to move through relaxing and ease and eliminate pain and constriction. If that sounds odd and contradictory, it is. I used to see advertisements for Feldenkrais—“moving through pain”—and made fun of it, because, you know, moving through pain doesn’t really sound enticing. But I was being perverse. Getting to the other side of pain? That sounds enticing. And I guess if you have to move through pain to get to the other side, well, then maybe it’s worth it. 

I dunno if you’re like me and find that everything seems like a political analogy these days, but if so, I am sorry. I’m almost finished with Strangers in Their Own Land, by Arlie Russell Hochschild. I have to read it in bits, because it’s, well, it’s depressing. Hochschild is a liberal Berkeley professor of sociology who spent several years getting to know the residents of the most conservative county in the most conservative state she could find, trying to suss out why they vote the way they do when it seems counter to their interests. Of course what she finds is a bunch of really nice people who are racist at their very cores, but not overtly. It’s the kind of book that makes me wonder if perhaps  the South would just be better off seceding. Anyway, it’s a close investigation of a region, and it’s illuminating, if painful. 

Anyway. Feldenkrais. Moving through pain. This involves lying on a yoga mat in the airy upstairs of the barn where we rehearse and listening to the voice of Annie Thoe, Feldenkrais teacher, available on YouTube and Spotify, telling us to breath into our left shoulders, then into the volcanos of our left breasts, and me thinking, Okay, what the heck. I’m okay with visualizing the inside of my lung and my breast as a volcano or whatever. I’m up for whatever if it's relaxing and takes me to the other side of pain.

There’s a lot of breathing and close focus and attention involved. These are all good things to cultivate, and indeed, a quick search online reveals that Feldenkrais believed his method of healing the body would generalize to improvement in other aspects of life. Remains to be seen, just as it remains to be seen whether the close investigation of the reddest county in the reddest state yields any improvement in the functioning of the body politic. 

After lying on our backs and moving with ease and relaxation, we put away Annie Thoe. We stand up and move as if we’re seaweed or as if we’re being tugged towards one corner of the room by a magnet and we’re resisting. 

We recently decided to work towards another performance, so these exercises might eventually translate into something on stage. I don’t know. I don’t really care. I’m easily led, apparently. 

But the thing is, it feels damn good. 

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Success as Joy and Meaning

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Last week’s wisdom came in practical form from Gretchen Rubin. This week’s comes in more theoretical form from someone else, a guy named James B. Comey. 

“Let me start by defining what I mean by successful. I don’t mean making a lot of dough. A lot of successful people make a lot of dough, but a lot of people with dough are not successful the way I’ve defined it. Successful people are those who have lived lives of achievement - certainly - but also lives of joy and meaning. That’s what I mean by success.”  - James B. Comey

Now, James B. Comey is not a baker. So you can be sure that the dough he’s talking about is not the stuff you use to make pancakes and bread and cake. James B. Comey is a lawyer, the one time United States Deputy Attorney General, and the current director of the FBI. So the dough he’s talking about is the kind you see in suitcases opened in dark alleys and back rooms of strip clubs and anonymous hotel rooms. The paper kind. 

Nevertheless, his whole point is that success is NOT about money. So I don’t know why I’m focusing on it. Probably because I’m a lesser human than James B. Comey. I certainly have less dough than he. Although, according to Studies (with a capital-S), we really do need much less dough than we think to satisfy ourselves, and I know I have reached that level. It can be hard, though, to let go of the idea that money will be the answer. It’s a bit like sugar in that you have some and you want more and more. 

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But listen to James B. Comey’s wisdom on how to live a life of joy and meaning. I know I have. I think he’s onto something. There are five attributes of successful people that help them live those lives.  And they are all things we can develop.

1. Emotional intelligence
2. Judgement 
3. Effective communication
4. Dare to Be Dumb
5. Reputation is a Brick Mansion

Let’s look at them a little more closely.

Emotional Intelligence. Reams of writing exists on this topic, but it boils down to this. Emotional intelligence is “seeing ourselves and feeling what others feel.” Empathy is its root. And you can develop empathy by being a good listener. “So listen 1000 times; think 100 times; speak once.”

Judgement. By judgement, Comey means, “how to think about what you’re doing and learn from it.” It comes from developing emotional intelligence, from thinking about experiences, from love, from getting enough sleep, and from stepping away from your routine. Sharpening the saw , as Stephen Covey said. 

Effective Communication. This means thinking about what you want to say, but also about how you want to say it - and also to remember that your audience is probably only halfway willing to attend to your words, so you’ve got to grab ‘em. Comey says, “The goal of the speaker is to stop the listener from getting away.”

Wait! Come back, Readers! I’m almost done!

Dare to be Dumb.  That means what it seems like it means. Don’t be afraid to ask if you don’t get something. Assume that if you don’t understand something, many other people also don’t understand it and will be glad you asked. Now, I did this once. I think it was in 8th grade, at my new fancy prep school, where I asked what the term “Parts of Speech” meant. I’ll be honest. I felt like an ass. And in fact, I ended up in the teacher’s office after class, because actually everyone else in the class already knew the term. Fortunately, I proved that I knew the parts of speech - I just didn’t know they were called “parts of speech,” and everything progressed from there. Downhill. But whatever. Dare to be dumb, people, even if every ounce of your pride tells you not to take that dare. “Have the confidence to be humble,” says Comey. It took me a few years after that 8th grade experience, but I got there again.

Reputation is a brick mansion. I like this one a lot. According to Comey, most people think of reputation as a mansion, “built one room at a time.” Instead, it is built a brick at a time. “Every human encounter is a brick.” So you want to make sure each brick is solid. That builds a solid reputation. 

I think it’s good advice. What about you?

Sharpening the Saw, Filling the Well - Stephen Covey Habit 7

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged about Stephen Covey and his 7 Habits of Highly Effective People - “effective” being a euphemism for "successful". Why a euphemism? Is there something inherently shameful about seeking success? 

Don’t answer that. 

We don't seek success, Readers, we pursue lives of principle and passion and success is the byproduct. 

The point is that in writing my book draft, I’ve been revisiting some of the books I’ve read on success, and this week, I’m reminded of Covey’s Habit # 7, called “Sharpening the Saw.” According to Covey,

Habit 7 is the habit of renewal - a regular, balanced renewal of the four basic dimensions of life. It circles and embodies all the other habits. It is the habit of continuous improvement that creates the upward spiral of growth that lifts you to new levels of understanding and living each of the habits as you come around to them on a progressively higher plane. (p.52)

The four dimensions are not an early 70s soul group. They are not geometric representations of space and time. They are not the four elements - earth, air, fire, and water. No, they are physical, social/emotional, spiritual, and mental. 

In other words, you need me-time. 

Well, for my me-time, I’m starting a drawing class with the 8th grader. She made the mistake of - or good decision to - sit out the spring semester of the theater class she has been going to for a few years, because she would have had to miss several sessions, due to various scheduling conflicts. This left her in a dangerously underscheduled situation, which I quickly attempted to rectify, because all children must be scheduled up, like loaded human stress-guns. 

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No, really, it wasn’t like that. It was that at the same time she decided to skip the drama class, she said she might like to take an art class, because the vagaries of our public school schedule have left her with only one quarter’s worth of art for the entire 8th grade year. 

I had trouble finding a class with people her age, but I found one with adults. The drawback is that the class is for adults. Also, the final two classes will be drawing from a nude. After consulting the 8th grader and several artist friends, we concluded that drawing from a nude is less of a problem than taking a class with adults. So I decided I would make my teenaged daughter’s life much better by taking the class with her. Because what could be better than taking a class with adults? Taking a class with adults, one of whom is your mother. Who purports to be an adult. 

No, really, it wasn’t like that. It was that the class is kind of far away, and we parents would have to schlep back and forth on Wednesday evenings to drop her off and pick her up. And then I started thinking about drawing and drawing from the nude and how I loved to do that once upon a time, and I thought, why not? Why not just take the class, too? That way I’ll do a service to the environment by eliminating a round trip to Troy. Not only that, I’ll do a service to myself. I’ll be Sharpening the Saw, according to Stephen Covey. I’ll be Filling the Well, according to Julia Cameron of The Artist’s Way, who says that creative work should involve some cross-training to keep the creativity flowing. All in all, no matter how you look at it, it’s a win. 

Except maybe for the 8th grader. But I’m grateful she has agreed. I’ve promised not to look at her or talk to her. And since my last name is different from hers, she can pretend she doesn’t even know me.