7 Lessons learned from living in Japan (via The Act of Traveling)


It strikes me that we can all benefit from these seven lessons.

We will not lose friends by being more polite, respectful and punctual – we can only create better relationships.

Opening up to being open minded is like opening the curtains to let in the sunshine or the open the windows so as to let in the fresh air. Whilst the sun may burn and the fresh air may be a little cold we will be richer for the experience.

Organisation is useful. Yet once a certain limit is crossed efficiency becames death, a stagnant pool that smells.

Simplicity and complexity is something that I have yet to master. I suspect that applies to many of us. Yet there is real wisdom here. It reminds me of the middle way in Zen Buddhism.

7 Lessons learned from living in Japan I was honoured to receive an invitation to share my experiences for the Life Lessons series, a project hosted by Abubakar Jamil in collaboration with Farnoosh Brock. This post will combine travel and self improvement, centered around my personal experiences from living in Japan. Here we go. 7 appears to be a universally lucky or holy number. Also in Japan. The Japanese celebrate the seventh day after a baby's birth, and mourn the seventh day and … Read More

via The Act of Traveling

On how I avoided the warm embrace of conflict


This morning I wanted to study and I chose the kitchen as it was the most suitable place.  I would have preferred to do it in the lounge and yet that was taken by daughter who was watching television and my wife who was doing some ironing.

Just to mentally move from my favourite place, the lounge, to the kitchen I had to give something up.  Specifically, I had to give up the idea that as I pay the bills then I should get to call the shots.  That I am entitled to have the lounge irrespective of the wishes of ‘others’.

About twenty minutes into my studying my youngest son came into the kitchen – he had slept in – and joined me at the breakfast bar.  I did not mind this as there is more than enough space.  Then he did, what he always does: he started singing.  I noticed that his singing distracted me and I did not like it.  Yet, I did nothing.  My son continued singing and I started to get emotional.   The thought that entered my head was along the lines of how inconsiderate my son is: does he not get that I am studying?

I tried to put the distractions aside and focus on my studying hoping that my son would soon finish his breakfast and leave.  Well, this son is never in a hurry to get anywhere.  So the point arrived when I had reached my breaking point.  Thankfully I was still in a rational and relatively calm place and saw that I had options.  I could scold my son for being insensitive and disrespectful.  I could just get angry and tell him to leave the kitchen.  I could continue to sit it out in the kitchen.  Or I could simply leave the kitchen – without resentment – and find another room to study in. I chose the last option.

What I took away from this encounter was the following:

  • I had to give up the thinking that said I should get my way because I am the one that pays the mortgage;
  • I had to give the thought that said I am entitled to special treatment in the kitchen because I got here first;
  • I had to give up the thought that I was owed special treatment – silence – by my son;
  • The thought that my son is simply having breakfast where we normally have breakfast came in handy;
  • The thought that my son is simply doing what he loves to do and is often not aware that he is doing – singing;
  • I was attuned to my emotional state and how it was becoming hotter  and took action before it went past the point of no return;
  • I chose to live and let live – to relinquish my ‘claim to the kitchen’ – as that struck me as the most workable solution that would not put a dent in the relationship between myself and my son.

Put differently, the situation itself was not the issue at any time.  The cause of conflict was primarily my thinking about how things should be and how I should be treated by reasonable family members.  When I gave up that thinking and embraced better thinking I solved the issue with no conflict, no damage to anyone or any relationship!

Thank you


Dear family members, friends and fellow human beings

I thank you for taking the time to read this blog.  Your reading encourages me to write and share my point of view with you.

I thank you for writing to me directly to let me know what you think of this blog and what contribution it makes to you.   If any of my writings helps to put a smile on your face, a spring in your footstep or soothes a single tear then it is worth my while writing and sharing this personal stuff with you.

Please know that I am grateful that you exist, that our paths have crossed and that we are in conversation.

I hope you will make this Christmas for yourself, your loved ones, your fellow human beings.  And I wish you the same for 2011.

If I can help you then please do reach out to me.  My philosophy is simple: we can make heaven or hell for each other, I have no interest in hell as it is already crowded, I am totally passionate about co-creating heaven with you!

Be well.  Be great.  “Be the change you wish to see in this world”  Gandhi.

 

P.S: My role model is Gandhi and all of you who know me will know that I have a long long journey ahead of me to be even a thread of this great human being.  Nonetheless, the journey inspires me.

On speaking


As human beings we speak.  Some even argue that language is what sets us apart – makes us uniquely human.  Yet, it is a gift that most of us are born with and simply take it for granted.  Very few of us really think about this gift and how best to use it.  It kind of reminds me of the community that I grew up in – the muslim community.  Almost everyone was born into and embraced the rituals yet almost no-one had any knowledge or understanding of the genesis of Islam nor the social reform and human centred values that were the foundations of Islam.

So we have a gift – this ability to speak with our fellow wo/man and be understood if we speak the same language.  Now the question is what frame can we put around this gift of speech, of communication?  More importantly, what is the most beautiful use of this gift?

When it comes to frames we have many choices. We can simply put no frame around it and continue as we are: spraying our words all over the place, they land where they land, they have the impact that the have.  We describe stuff, we make up explanations, we complain, we criticise, we gossip behind each others backs, we make up lies, we provide directions, we command, we compliment, we give form to our dreams and so forth.   This is the hidden, taken for granted, frame which gives form to our speaking.

I’d like to suggest a very different frame.  What if each of us, even most of us, were to view gift of speech in a radically different way?  What if we reserved speaking for creating affinity, affection and connection with our fellow human beings.  For example:

  • we share our likes and dislikes and what we want and need from our fellow human beings instead of criticising others – what they have or have not done;
  • giving ourselves and our fellow human beings wings to pursue our interests, ambitions and dreams instead of squelching them out of fear, jealousy or spite;
  • creating affinity and connection with our fellow human beings through acceptance, validation and the generally sharing of our humanity as opposed to creating distance and hatred which is all to common when we criticise, condemn and diminish our fellow human beings;
  • inspiring ourselves and our fellow human beings to bring the best of our humanity – benevolence – into fruit more often in a wider range of situations;
  • providing information – without preaching – that our fellow human beings are likely to find useful in living a good life;
  • to bring into being the kind of world that we want to live as illustrated by the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen;
  • talking about and resolving our differences in a way that recognises our need to find solutions that work for us all.

I am suggesting a frame in which our speaking is such that we do not attack, invalidate, exclude and criticise our fellow human beings.  What kind of a world can we create if I was to step into this frame?  And if you were to step into this frame?  And we were to step into this frame?

How about starting the practice, right now, for now to the New Year?  Are you willing to give it a wholehearted go? I am and I hope that you will join me. if you think that this is easy for me then you really do not know me that well!  I have been immersed in the language of criticism from the age of 5 and I mastered it a long time ago.

 

Learning from Michael Jordan: on success and failure


I have been struggling with that which matters most to me in this life:  my family.

  • Do I care for my wife and children? Yes.
  • Do I want to see my wife and children smiling? Yes.
  • Do I want to give hugs and receive hugs – every day – from my wife and children? Yes.
  • Do I want to just sit and chat with my wife and children?  Yes.
  • Do I want to offer acceptance and validation to my wife and children? Yes.

How am I getting on with all of that?  Badly: I fall down flat on my face often, in fact more than I succeed.  And in the process I have been tempted to give in and there have been times I have given up – at least temporarily.

Recently, I had a big setback and was tempted to give up completely: to accept that fine words are fine and reality is something else.  Just when I was at my lowest the world delivered the following into my lap.  Here is a quote from Michael Jordan:

“I’ve missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”

Michael has a point, we cleave failure and success into two.  Yet, it is possible to look at failure and success as being interdependent.  The key to success is to be on the court (of life) rather than on the stands (as a spectator).  And to use our intelligence to adjust what we do in response to the feedback we get from the world.  To use a tennis analogy, if you are at the back of the court and the opponent keeps hitting winners at the net then it makes sense to move into the net.

Finally, it strikes me that we can choose to look at failure as the first sign that we have taken on a bigger game in life.  We have chosen to go beyond our comfort zone – to expand our boundaries.  And in that we can rejoice.

On our need for safety, security and predictability


Whether we are aware of it or not we strive for predictability because it makes as feel safe and secure.  So we take an inherently messy world and mould it into a shape that makes us feel safe.  We go further and take control of the world through the tools that we have built.  And we think of ourselves as God and we treat this world, this universe as our playground.

From time to time we can do with a reminder of place in this world.

The primary myth of the western world – our omnipotence – has temporarily been shattered by nature: snow and cold temperatures have brought the country to a standstill.  Nature shows her awesome power once again and reminds us of our relatively humble position in the scheme of things.  It reminds me of my Grand Canyon experience many years ago:  just sitting on a rock and gazing into the sheer size and wonder of the Grand Canyon I got my relative insignificance in the scheme of things.

We we are simply guests checking in and out of the game of existence on the hotel called Earth.  And in this game there is only one thing that we can count on: one day we will die.  Everything else is uncertain. Yet so many of us fail to live for fear of dying.  And dying is the only thing that is certain!

The anger and criticism that is spilling out is as much about the illusion being shattered as it is about the frustrations that people are experiencing.

 

The difference between children and adults


It has snowed heavily and brought many parts of the UK to a standstill.  And it has been interesting to watch how different people have reacted differently to the snow.

Clea, 10 years old, got all dressed up in her ski clothes, searched out her friends who live next door and got busy playing in the snow.  I saw her embracing the snow literally: she was rolling around in the snow and scooping it up.  To her snow occurred as an opportunity to be with friends and play: a gift, an adventure!

My wife, Aldine, is an optimist.  So it was no surprise that even when there was a severe weather she got herself and the children in the car on Saturday morning and drove up to get to her friend Analia’s home.  She did not make it there yet she can hold up her head high.  In the end she is the one that chose not to drive at 25mph and thus face a six-hour journey.

I, being a pragmatic fellow, decided that the snow and cold was a great opportunity to do all the stuff that I had put off – like the accounts and the tax returns.  And to pick up and read a book on swarm behaviour – something that I find interesting.  My approach is best described as: why take the risk when I do not have to take the ris.  Has that been the stance that I have taken in life?  Choosing to be safe, to be comfortable?  In some areas, yes.

Looking more broadly, I notice that adult conversation (especially the media) has been around control.  The snow has disrupted the bubble of control that we take for granted and the adults have not liked that one little bit.  So the conversation has been full of complaint – primarily about those that govern us and their inability to control the world, to bend it to our needs.

Interestingly there has been more indignation and complaint around the country coming to a standstill then there has been about the banks bringing the country to its knees.  There is has been more complaint about being stuck, not being able to get out, to go on holiday then there has been about government policy that has resulted in tens of thousands of people being killed in Afghanistan and Iraq.

It seems that the wonder of children is that they embrace the new, the unknown, and dance with life.  This contrasts sharply with adults who like to stick to the known – a world that runs smoothly, like clockwork, and renders no surprises.  Is it any wonder that so many of us adults are so bored?