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Grid Iron Gal: My Journey to Football

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My Sunday View

This past American football season was the first I’ve watched as a serious fan. What’s taken me so long? I’m glad you asked.

Let’s dial back the clock a bit. I grew up with two older brothers, the younger of which was a TV tyrant. I would lose access, most times violently, to the television when any sports game was on. Baseball and football left figurative and literal scars.

Fast forward to 7th through 12th grades. I dismissed participating in sports. Cheerleading was the only activity that held my interest; we danced a lot. I loved cheering for the basketball and soccer teams. My suppressed competitive nature turned out to work quite well with screaming and cheering on sidelines.

College introduced a whole new level of fandom for me. Pittsburgh has great fans even if the teams stink. Pitt always has amazingly acrobatic cheerleaders. Basketball and football games were fun to attend with friends. The whole day centered around the game. The school spirit was palpable. I felt like I belonged to of some sort of Pitt warring clan. (Tonight we ride!)

Leaving school put my sports fandom a bit on hold, except for being dragged along to 76ers games with my husband before we were married. Let me tell you, the 76ers are no way to win over a gal. Still, it was fun to be in the stadium, scream, and people watch (no real cheerleaders, though).

 

Then marriage, kids, jobs, etc. came along. Having children warps a woman’s brain. Any bloodthirst I had left me. I couldn’t watch a college football player get hit without cringe taking ahold of my body. I would just think of that poor kid, his future, his worried mother!

Now, I know many of you men reading this think that last sentence is totally ridiculous. Here’s my attempt to explain it to you (go with me here):

 

Let’s say you happen upon rusty shell of your favorite car. You bring it home. You slowly and painfully work on restoring the car to its former glory. It takes years. It’s expensive. It’s frustrating. Most of the time you have no idea what you’re doing. Sometimes you are convinced it’ll never run. But you keep plowing away at it.

You find other guys online who are building your same car from scratch. These are your boys, simpatico, sharing stories and your love of this model car. You make a great connection with a guy named Pedro. He’s your mentor. You both are finishing up your babies at about the same time, but he’s been more cash and time strapped than you, so it’s taken him 20 years to build the most beautiful car you’ve ever seen. Pedro’s a true artist.

The day comes for your car’s first trip around the block. It’s a huge day. Pictures. Videos. Pedro texts you a “thumbs up” icon. The car’s engine purrs. She turns on a dime. The trip around the neighborhood is a success! You feel victorious! You get ‘er safely back in the garage and jump on the laptop to upload your media to share with Pedro and the guys. You click on a top post. It’s a short video, but with hundreds of distraught comments. The video is posted by Pedro. Your breath stops. You click play.

The video starts out the same way as yours. But then the camera shakes. You hear giggling. You hear something like soda or beer spilling. You realize with horror the dopey friends of Pedro’s kid have hijacked the keys. Your heart seizes. Pedro has been working his whole life on this car. He worked extra hours to be able to afford just one part at a time. You had even sent a pic of his work to a location scout you know in Hollywood who was interested in paying Pedro to use the car for an upcoming movie. You hope the video stops there. You pray those little jerks will just put the precious vehicle back in the garage. No such luck.

For the next several minutes, you see scratch after scratch mar the perfect sheen of the paint. Dents happen. You hear grinding gears. After a few minutes of this havoc, there’s a sudden, bitter crash of metal on steel and the screen goes black. You choke back tears. Poor car. Poor Pedro. He’ll never recover. He’ll never be able to fix it. The rest of his life will be tainted by this one fateful day.

 

OK. So, the feeling in your heart, there, that cringe when you realized Pedro’s heart was broken? That is the same cringe I felt, as a mother who carried 2 children INSIDE OF HER for a total of over 18 months, when I saw sports injuries happen on the football field. I simply had to stop watching football. I especially had to avoid college ball. Unlike Pedro, I did not buy parts for my children online. I did not construct them with my hands. They are literally part of my body, not just some tiny DNA parts (for which we thank you, no doubt. But don’t even try to front you did more). I know those young men on the field were someone else’s project, but being as invested as I am in my own babies, I have to feel some heartbreak at that scene. I can’t imagine the wrenching adoptive moms feel, as they have worked much, much harder to get their babies. Watching a child, just like yours, get pummeled and lie writhing in pain on the field. And think of it, those scenes happen over and over again for two 40-minute halves. It can be torturous.

While my children grew and my heart was getting a bit tougher, my husband and I still had a lot to learn about getting along as a couple and parents. The thought of sitting on the couch and watching football with him when he was supposed to be cleaning out the gutters made me want to puke.

Fast forward a few years. Both of my kids are in school or preschool now. Tender ages, but not tiny babies. My husband has made strides in his good-husbandness and now makes sure everything is squared away before football. Things are getting easier. At this point, I’m not watching the game exactly. I sit with him and knit or read in front of the TV.  He makes sure to warn me when they are replaying an injury scene so I don’t accidently see it.

Fast forward a bit more. Now we come to this season. Both kids in full time school. The kids are older, so we could travel back to Pitt for Homecoming, where we saw all the old, fun folks. It wasn’t like old times. It was better. Tailgating!

We come back home, things are normal. A few years ago, I happened to get to know a lovely couple, Sally and Martin. Sally and Martin are from the south. These are LSU folks (purple!), so make no mention of Roll Tide and everything will go smoothly. This fall, Sally, me and our other two girlfriends and their families would gather for LSU games. Fun! Again!

And then it happened: Snuggling up with Sally and friends on the couch, all biting our nails together, yelling “GEAUX TIGERS!”, I remembered it all. It was the fun of college games, all over again. I could watch football like that, with girlfriends, good food, and guys who weren’t condescending or rude when we asked a simple question. I loved it. Sally said, “I never realized you were such a football fan!” Yeah. Neither did I.

Now, if only the Eagles would make me WANT to be a football fan. I definitely chose the wrong season to stop avoiding football. Though it’s been great fun watching & texting about the games with my friend Austin, who also chose to get back into it this year. Even bad football is always better with friends. Check out his thoughts on being a first season fan.

In the next article, I’ll use my experience here and gather some intel on how you can make your wife, too, into a huge football fan like me. (Subscribing is the best way to catch my posts.)

 

How about you? Have you ever done a 180 degree turn in your behavior/beliefs that has shocked and dismayed/pleased those around you?

 

 

 

 

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I used to be a nice person. I was a pretty people pleaser. A cheerleader extraordinaire. Now I’m a mercenary.

Cutting Down Delusion

This isn’t to say you would know my mercenary status when you meet me; I can still be very engaging to be around. I simply don’t see the world in the same way anymore. It’s as if I’ve crossed some sort of cultural barrier, like the line dividing ninja assassins from law-abiding townsfolk.

You don't have to scream the truth, just find a way to tell it

Mind-screaming the truth.

When I say “mercenary,” know I’m not being hired by others to fell people; I’m paying myself permission to be deliberate and sincere (when it serves me). Does that last parenthetical shock you? It shocked me too. Yet, that’s the truth of it. Over the full course of my life, I’ve been infected with some sort of increasingly strong “convenient integrity” disease that has finally taken hold. I’m coming clean here in hopes you will admit you’ve been infected also.

Most of the time, the symptoms of this convenient integrity disease present in uncomfortable honesty and painful observations. I recently told some friends I didn’t want to visit with them because I couldn’t endure their kids’ behavior any longer. I delivered the raw and horrific Sandy Hook news to my tween daughter and 2 of her friends when they arrived home after school that day. I stared down a parent/teacher organization volunteer and told them my daytime hours are full. I told a client their brand won’t work with the certain populations they were targeting. I “suggested” to the doctor’s office staff that they take more responsibility for their mistakes about my insurance paperwork. I refused to take notes during board meetings, despite being one of the youngest members and a female who would be the obvious (sexist) choice. Actions are all I rely on anymore. I trust no promises; I value no intentions.

I didn’t used to be like this. As a younger person, I routinely went well out of my way for strangers. I bent over backwards for family and friends. This was to my detriment. But that’s what the world expected of me, and that’s what I delivered.

As I got older, I slowly gave myself permission to make changes. I allowed myself to worry a little less about impressing peers. I indulged in establishing permanent personal boundaries in areas in my life that (sorely) needed them. I took hold of my physical life, finally veering from conventional medicine to find an answer to my life-long tummy issues (a nutritionist discovered Celiac’s disease).

These changes don’t seem mercenary on the surface. Psychologists encourage personal boundaries; the health industry begs people to take care of their bodies. My changes all seem like a nice trip up the pyramid steps of Maslow’s Hierarchy.

Why do I feel like my own gun-for-hire then? Because each time I lean toward the honesty, I lean away from etiquette. Each time I defy expectations, I deny others’ their comfort. Convenient integrity disease has me asking myself these questions: “Why can’t we speak truth here? Why does this person’s comfort rely on my discomfort?” Therein lies niceness’s dark side. Isaac Newton told us that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. He didn’t tell us how bad those reactions can get. Previously, my decisions would always favor others over me to the point of dangerous implosion. Now, more than ever, I find myself going into “honesty” mode for self-preservation purposes.

Squirm-inducing straight talk to clients is my forte. I am at times brutally honest about branding and image because I don’t want clients to discover I was yet another “yes man” to their tradition-based delusions. I discourage certain business owners away from building a website or a social media presence because I don’t believe they’ll keep up the work on their own and they won’t pay me or anyone else enough to do it. I manage expectations. I don’t smile away uncomfortable situations. I ask, “What is it that you want from me, right now? What do you need?” I allow myself moments when I am all business. This honest, information-oriented approach may seem cold to some, especially those with the typical “nice” expectations my appearance elicits, but it’s the more compassionate course of action. When I was younger, I couldn’t bring myself to deliver the “no”, the hard news, the fact that I just wasn’t interested. Now I would rather save everyone’s time and energy even if I must play The Ice Queen.

 

How I Became A Mercenary

My self-directed studies of Behavioral Economics over the last several years has lead me to this “Equal and opposite” thinking about my actions. The Freakonomics books and podcast have honed my skills in this ability to see the “hidden sides” of the decisions we make. Researchers like Dan Ariely and Barbara Ehrenreich demonstrate how our culture tends to white wash anything with “positive thinking,” even if it is destroying us.

Dear Reader, those of you still be in the “positive” realm may be dismissing me right now as a curmudgeon, a cynic, a pessimist, or a self-serving wench. I get it. The Positive Army delivers crushing pressure to comply. I fall to it at times. But now I realize that when I do fall to the pressure to keep things upbeat, I’m cheating myself as well as others. Now as a mercenary I try to step outside myself for a minute. I try to become aware when I’m not being honest. And I chop down the delusions that stand to choke me.

 

Own Up

We are all mercenaries. We all act in self-preservative ways. Some of us are simply more skilled self-employed guns-for-hire than others.

To be a human adult means you take responsibility for yourself. This self-preservation must happen and it can be done in all sorts of ways. When I was a younger woman, I chose to please people in hopes they would like me, therefore helping me feel secure in my chances of survival. When it became evident I wouldn’t ever please some people, I would try my best to avoid them and find new people to please. Now, as my mercenary skills sharpen and I continue to rid my life of life-draining people and things, I’m finding it harder and harder to follow the conventional rules of engagement in all aspects of my life. I’m not interested in saying “yes” to something I know will please another person but  will terribly inconvenience me. I don’t take on projects just to impress someone. I don’t suppress my own thinking and opinions while I’m in a group.

With a good sense of self, it’s much easier to filter out what you’ll likely do and what you won’t, based on your past behavior. I journal everyday. I’ve journaled on and off my whole life. Writing by hand in a paper notebook feels raw to me. Rugged honesty is all I can manage when a pen is in my hand. This mirror of truth is hard to take. Stare at that every morning and you’ll turn mercenary too. You’ll know when to say “No.” (And when to say “Yes.”)

I’m no A-Teamer, though. I still fall into pleasing-others patterns. I haven’t leveled up to the Extreme Mercenary stage of “convenient integrity” disease. A woman needs to meet advanced age requirements for that. Based on my research on family gatherings, grocery stores and workplaces, 60+-year-old women are at the Beginner training cycle of Extreme Mercenary. They have lost all respect for the expectation of a quiet night and go all truth ninja up in there. Watch out for them. Do not be fooled by their humble appearance.

For myself and for the businesses I advise, I’m aspiring to a level of sophisticated transparency. We

little old lady crocheting

Don’t think she won’t cut you

don’t have to deliver the whole truth at all times. As representatives, we have but one duty: to protect the organization. If an individual wants to sacrifice themselves for others, they are following their own plan for self-preservation. If a company makes a social media faux pas, an apology and partly transparent explanation should suffice. Keep the health of the organization or individual as top priority.

I’m not happy when people are uncomfortable, but I’ll no longer take the responsibility for ridding them of that feeling. Truth is uncomfortable, not the messenger. If I take the burden of that discomfort away from where it belongs via etiquette, silence, illusion, etc., I am the one who ends up breaking and being no help to anyone. I didn’t realize the repeated action of trying to save face for others would deliver a reaction of the loss of my own strength.

I begged my friends’ forgiveness when I finally admitted my frazzled nerves at the hands of their children because I didn’t want to lose them as a friend. Now we meet for coffee, sans kids. I told the girls about Sandy Hook because I thought it would be better coming from me than if they discovered it on their own. Later that day they thanked me. They said Instagram was covered in images that would have confused and alarmed them without the prior knowledge. In meetings, I offer, as delicately as possible, truthful summaries of what I think is going on under the surface. When I say to the parent/school moms to not ask me to volunteer, it is because not only did I put in more than 3 years volunteering already but I freelance now and I have no time for it. I can be polite. I can be clear. But make no mistake, I am not being nice.

 

Preach It

When is the last time you delivered some hard truth? How did you do it? How “transparent” were you? Share some of your own mercenary stories in the comments.

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“Positive thinking is so firmly enshrined in our culture that knocking it is a little like attacking motherhood or apple pie.” -Srikumar Rao, Ph.D., author of Happiness at Work.

 

 

Thinking about what can go wrong with a business plan is a secret task, lest anyone in the board room sniff out treachery. Planning for the worst possible scenario in life is chastised as a Fates-tempting practice, as if the idea itself could manifest doom. Positive thinking has taken over the culture. Any attempt to examine its logic, as Dr. Rao implies above, is met with disdain and even fear.

 

But we must examine the tenants of positive thinking. Visualizing a positive outcome, eradicating negative thoughts, setting meaningful goals, and being optimistic in all endeavors can actually lead us down paths to failure and sadness. Research shows that these practices can be dangerous pursuits that evoke the opposite of their intentions. Some studies discovered that visualizing yourself as having accomplished a goal decreases your likelihood of achieving that goal.  In educational studies, the almost-holy positive-thinking concept of telling children they are smart harms their ability to do well on increasingly hard tasks. All of this “glass half full” stuff has a dark side.

 

What if bubbly (but ignorant) bliss was replaced by sensible realism? Would we descend into the dark depths of cynicism if we examined the cracks in the positive thinking armor?

 

In his book The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking, Oliver Burkeman shares his own journey across the underbelly of the optimism movement in America. In the spirit of Barbara Ehrenreich and Julie Norem, Burkeman sets out to test some of the more damaging principles of positive thinking and battles with the assumptions surrounding them. Burkeman educates us about the Stoics and their hard-won and precious reality focus. He also visits an extreme Buddhist meditation retreat to become hyper-aware of the “bad thoughts are our enemy” myth. His meeting with an Oprah guru  teaches him that silence gets a bad rep. Other adventures and more lessons continue toward the end of the book, where Burkeman realizes we all may be asking ourselves the wrong question. It isn’t about “how to be happy” as much as it’s about “defining happiness” that fits into our human existence.

 

Combining Stoic and Buddhist teachings, Burkeman gives us this alternative perspective on how people and companies can release their fears by “leaning into the discomfort” (as therapists say) as opposed to turning our backs to it. We need not stare at the sun to see the light, nor must we always be thinking “positive” thoughts in order to succeed. As humans, we can’t keep tensing that positivity muscle and expect it to hold out. Instead, Burkeman suggests, perhaps we should wonder why we insist on positivity in the first place.

 

I like this book. It’s a fun read and the storytelling makes difficult concepts easy to understand. I’ve already put some things I’ve learned from the book into practice. For example, I now know that my anxious thoughts are not me, no more than my internal organs are “me”. I can step back from my thoughts and observe them like I can observe my breath, or the weather, and realize I have little to do with them, and they have little to do with me. When I feel anxiety creeping up, I go into this “movie mode” and let it play out. At the end, I see what’s left. What issues really need addressing? What are my resources? What do I need? I can disown the anxiety and take responsibility for solving the problem instead. Circumstances are weather. They are neither good nor bad. They just need to be dealt with.

 

The “negative” path to happiness, Burkeman poses, will render a more solid and realistic pursuit and destination than constantly fighting against our own nature to spot the inconsistencies and dangers that await us. This path to a happy realism may be just what we need to get out of the positive thinking hangover we’ve all been nursing for the past 30 years.

 

Check out my interview with Oliver Burkeman, the author of The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking, at PurpleCarPark or on iTunes at PurpleCar Park. (transcript available).

 

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purplecar, orange background by Rick Wolff

Do you find yourself clenching in anger when someone tells you to “think positive?” Do you bite your tongue when your too-perky boss gives you a motivational book for the holidays? If you find yourself balancing on the edge of punching the next person who tells you to “Smile!”, you need The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking

the antidote book cover

a negative path to happiness?

Today on PurpleCar Park, you can hear how author Oliver Burkeman found a very unlikely but very sane and realistic path to happiness, sans sap. Oliver and I have a great conversation about the overwhelming pressure in business and at home to “think positive thoughts,” and how this drowning emphasis on positive thinking can actually hinder happiness. Join us for a listen as Oliver talks about his surprising discoveries about this path-less-traveled to a state of bliss.

 

PurpleCar Park notes:

music and intro provided by The Matthew Show: http://thematthewshow.com/

Show notes:

Barbara Ehrenreich: See interview here with Jon Stewart and Barbara Ehrenreich about her book “Bright-Sided: How Positive Thinking Is Undermining America.” http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/wed-october-14-2009/barbara-ehrenreich or check out Barbara’s website at: http://www.barbaraehrenreich.com/brightsided.htm

Julie Norem, author of the book The Positive Power of Negative Thinking: Using Defensive Pessimism to Harness Anxiety and Perform at Your Peak. The book’s website: http://defensivepessimism.com/

Oprah magazine summary containing the quote from Dr. Norem’s book that Mr. Burkeman cited about 1/3 of Americans instinctively use defensive pessimism: http://www.oprah.com/spirit/Defensive-Pessimism-How-Negative-Thinking-Can-Pay-Off

Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hours concept. From his book Outliers http://www.gladwell.com/outliers/index.html National Geographic visualization of the 10,000 hours concept: http://newswatch.nationalgeographic.com/2012/08/14/malcolm-gladwells-10000-hour-rule-visualized-practice-makes-perfect/

For a transcript of this podcast and to find the APA citation of the podcast, please see this pdf  or see the entire transcript, click below.

[continue reading…]

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Productivity Links

In honor of my #prodchat guest-hosting tonight, I’m throwing up a little post with my favorite links and books about human behavior, creativity, courage and productivity (yes, they are all related!).

Here’s some TED Talks (tagged with “productivity“): http://www.ted.com/talks/tags/productivity

TED Talks I like about creativity and communication:

Amy Cuddy: Changing your body language can help you become what you want to become. In our case: more productive! http://www.ted.com/talks/amy_cuddy_your_body_language_shapes_who_you_are.html

Ken Robinson: How schools kill creativity http://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robinson_says_schools_kill_creativity.html and Bring on the Revolution http://www.ted.com/talks/sir_ken_robinson_bring_on_the_revolution.html

Elizabeth Gilbert: Your Elusive Creative Genius: http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html

Want to read some books? Here are my goodreads.com lists for Productivity and Social Media

Here’s my profile on LinkedIn, which is the best platform for Productivity talk, IMHO (just search for “productivity”): http://www.linkedin.com/in/christinecavalier

I’ll update more as I think of them. Please add your favorites in the comments.

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