HOW TO GET OUT OF THAT URGENT RHYTHM
by Pat Sullivan
The PC revolution promised a paperless office where technological
efficiencies would lead to increased leisure time. Instead, we have less
time, less leisure.
Many of us never enjoy a spiritual or emotional release from the
workday.
Perpetually connected to work via cell phone and e-mail, we often feel
disconnected from ourselves. In such a state, it's easy to drown in
information while thirsting for wisdom.
We often forget how different people and computers are, notes Lois
Silva,
OP, Senior Vice President for Mission Services at St. Joseph's Regional
Health System in Stockton, CA. Computers act out a quick rhythm of "enter,
send, receive, respond. People also need time to reflect, to sort, judge and
evaluate."
But it's harder to get reflection time, for the speed of computers has
made us impatient. If we send an e-mail in the morning, we expect a response
by early afternoon. Because computers can handle complex calculations in
seconds, we expect human interactions to be almost as speedy.
Stewart Levine, author of "Getting to Resolution: Moving from
Conflict to
Collaboration," says that Vice Presidential nominee Joseph Lieberman offers
an important role model. Lieberman, an Orthodox Jew, observes the Sabbath
commandment for rest and reflection even during campaign season.
"The Sabbath is the antithesis of 24-7 workdays," says
Levine. "You dare
to go off-line for reverie, for deep acknowledgement, for something other
than forge-onward activities."
All traditions have practices similar to Sabbath. Even
non-religious
workaholics agree there can be benefits to going off-line occasionally:
renewing insight and energy; gaining a fresh perspective; restoring ourselves.
Still, it's not easy to go off-line in a wired-up world. Karyn
Hunt,
editor-in-chief of the directory startup Quiver.com, says that the internet
is unfolding so fast and so crazily that taking a break sometimes feels like
trying to take a sip of water from a fire hydrant. Hunt gets off-line in the
midst of the workday by taking a Zen approach. "I focus in on the small task
of each moment. Occasionally I come up for air and to get my bearing."
August Turak, CEO of the rapidly growing Raleigh Group International
software company, regularly retreats to a Trappist monastery. When he works,
he works hard and enjoys it, but most of the time he refuses to carry a
cellphone after hours. His home telephone answering machine died three years
ago, and he doesn't work on a laptop during plane trips.
Turak learned from his mentor, Lou Mobley, founder and recently retired
director of the IBM Executive School that "the higher up in the organization
you go, the more important people issues become. A really good executive
spends enormous time on people issues, the rest on vision, to decide the
things that are worth doing. These are values decisions, not efficiency
issues."
Stewart Levine begins each day by writing poetry. A recent one
includes
this warning, "And one day you wake up and wonder and ask, 'What have I been
doing with each lofty task?' The moment you realize that you are enough, you
don't have to persist in all of that stuff."
Even if we believe going off-line is beneficial, it can be scary.
Will
our downtime help someone else create a product or service that renders ours
obsolete? Will colleagues see us as lazy or weak? Will we see something in
ourselves we don't like or can't handle?
Being in community helps us go beyond concerns like this. Every
autumn,
I envy Jewish friends, with their ten Days of Awe. Beginning with Rosh
Hashanah, there's a celebration of the year that has passed. Then rituals
like wading through a stream and emptying one's pockets symbolize release of
old concerns. Personal and business relationships are assessed and cleaned
up in preparation for Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.
Autumn, the time after vacation and the summer harvest, seems the most
natural time to end a year. If we modeled the Days of Awe in our work, we
could dip fresh apples into sweet honey and name our gratitude for the past
year. We could reflect on how we've grown and stretched, how we've served.
Then we could face up to the ways we're harmed ourselves or others through
our work. It's never easy to confront the hard places in ourselves. But
to
the extent we dare do so, we become more secure. Some of our most nagging
guilts are unmasked as neuroses that can heal. As we repent, we can find
forgiveness.
When we go profoundly off-line, we make new room for creativity,
insight,
and courage. When we go back on-line, we can work more effectively. Our new
year at work can thus be far more beneficial and satisfying than the one that
is ending.
Copyright 2001 Pat Sullivan, All Rights Reserved.
---------------------------
Originally published in San Francisco Examiner & Chronicle