That's right. Thanks for your service. You have done a priceless service to your country. Hey, it's tough out there right? Anyone with an iPhone, Blackberry, or a cathode ray tube can see that we're being told it's tough out there. I saw a headline this morning suggesting an eight trillion dollar bailout. Sure, why not. Eight trillion, I think that's the 2009 salary cap for The New York Yankees too.
Well, be that as it may. However the world at large frames our current economic, social or political climate, I say it's all a matter of perspective. I'll even go as far as saying we're in a good place. Yeah, good. Because there's value here. As an Empowerment Coach, it's my job to hold this space. The uncomfortable, dark, murky, embarrassing, smelly places just as much as the joyful, elated, bright, shiny psyched up places. It's all a part of the process of life. Take a look to see what juicy nuggets can be gleamed from within:
Billion dollar ponzi schemes, Two American wars, Cronyism in the white house, prisoner torture, unconstitutional eavesdropping, overextended mortgage lending, golden parachutes, national debt in the trillions, a besmirched reputation as a global superpower. That's not all of it, but it's a good chunk.
Who have we become as a society when we support the reward system of extending credit to people who aren't eligible for it in the first place?
Who are we as individuals who either facilitated the giving or receiving of that credit?
Who are we to place material gain ahead of principals?
What good can come from all of this?
Were is the learning in all of this?
Now, as a Coach, I feel the state of reflection that people are in these days. I hear it on the streets of New York. I speak to it in my coaching sessions. My phone is ringing now more than ever. The people I speak with see this time as an opportunity to change. To explore their core values, to acquire inner fulfilment, to seek help with a project. This place of self reflection, or self assessment is golden. This "climate" is ripe for a gut check for the soul.
There's the good.
There's the learning.
On Tuesday, December 3rd, I read an article in The New York Times about Bernard L. Madoff and his ties to Yeshiva University. What drew me to the article was a quote printed in bold italics. The quote and a link to the article is below.
" In elevating to a level of demiworship people with big bucks, we have been destroying the values of our future generation. We need a total rethinking of who the heroes are, who the role models are, who we should be honoring."
- Rabbi Benjamin Blech, professor of philosophy of law, on the downfall of Bernard Madoff
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/23/nyregion/23yeshiva.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=betrayed%20by%20madoff&st=cse
Rabbi Blech called it, alright. There's a man who is in a state of reflection. He is looking inward to deepen the learning of himself and working to influence, in a positive way, those whose lives he touches. And here we are. The New Year. A new beginning. This is an opportunity provided by the uber elite who have fallen from grace. An opportunity to check our guts, to take stock in what we're made of, to roll up our sleeves are recreate ourselves for ourselves. This is a great place.
Thanks Bernie...
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The Healing Properties Of Facebook
Okay. So I'm forty years old, married, and I'm an enthusiastic participant on Facebook. I'm comfortable with that, really I am. I do admit however, I was somewhat reluctant to venture into this particular corner of cyberspace. "I mean, aren't those sort of sites for kids?" I said to myself. After all, I'm forty years old and I'm married.Well it took a while after creating my account to get acquainted with how the whole site worked, then the think tank at Facebook decided to change the format that I had just gotten used to. That's a whole other issue. I'm not going there right now. Maybe later. Maybe. Either way, I figured out the new format and I began to navigate around the site to acquire friends. That's what you do on Facebook, make friends.
Thing about that is, to date, I've made over two hundred friends. Some of them are people with whom I'm actually friends with now. Like, as in, currently and in three dimensions. You know, we meet in a diner or at a movie, shake hands, say hi, look each other in the eyes, celebrate birthdays, go fishing, generally hang out, those sort of three dimensions.
Some on my two hundred plus friends are people with whom I've never met. Friends of friends. And that's really cool. I get to meet new people in other countries like Mexico, Canada, Australia (It's a continent, I know), Spain, New Jersey. We can send messages and pictures of ourselves and our mutual friends and kind of tell how our mutual friends' lives touches our lives. "Oh, you know so-and-so from college." "I know so-and-so from work". That sort of thing.
Here's the kicker. Most of my two hundred plus friends are people who I have either met, known or befriended over the course of my forty years of existence on this planet. (Yup, forty. I'm comfortable with that.) The "overwhelm" from all of that kind of crept up on me. In the beginning, it was fun to reconnect with some of my friends in college, then it was a little heavy connecting with my best friends in high school, then it was kinda weird befriending my whole high school class. After that it was time-warpy rediscovering my close friends in jr. high school, then it became a little much hooking up with my whole jr. high school class, then (just yesterday) I was sought out by the guys I hung out with on a teen tour in nineteen-eighty-something. That required me to pause. "Whoa" I thought to myself. ( If you don't know what a teen tour is, just think of it as a 2 month bus ride around the country, as a teenager). Then - and I claim full responsibility for this - I sought out the very first object of my pre-pubescent desire. A cute-as-a button girl, who shall remain nameless to protect her whereabouts, who was my first kiss - my first kiss! (my wife's okay with that, by the way). I needed to walk away from Facebook for a good two weeks after that one.
With each friend acquired, and each area of my life that I conveniently and/or unconsciously compartmentalized, came the pictures. All sorts of pictures. Class pictures - in black & white!, school hallway pictures, college party pictures, and finally the piece de resistance, a picture of me and my afore mentioned first kiss in like nineteen-seventy-blah-blah with my lanky arm around her cute-as-a-button shoulders. We were about eleven years old. It looked like the wardrobe department for That 70's Show exploded all over us.
I've gone about as far back as my memory, and modern photography, can go to literally trace together the different phases of my life. And it all rushes back to me when ever I log in to my account. And you know what? It's all good.
I can look back on my life and see how I've recorded it, how lucky I am to have my family and friends. I can see how my friends have recorded their lives, where they have been, who they are now with, the families they have created and as I do I can see how I had been a part of their lives, who I was when I knew them, who I was when we lost touch and who I am now after we've re-established contact. and I can sincerely say that I've had an outstanding forty years on this planet. (Yup, I'm forty and I'm comfortable with that). All of those forgotten places and forgotten faces are now just a few click away.
It's because of Facebook that I'm able to see the single moments of my whole life strung together and displayed in pixels and wall posts on my computer. My Facebook page is the tableau of my life. And I really like what I see.
Thing about that is, to date, I've made over two hundred friends. Some of them are people with whom I'm actually friends with now. Like, as in, currently and in three dimensions. You know, we meet in a diner or at a movie, shake hands, say hi, look each other in the eyes, celebrate birthdays, go fishing, generally hang out, those sort of three dimensions.
Some on my two hundred plus friends are people with whom I've never met. Friends of friends. And that's really cool. I get to meet new people in other countries like Mexico, Canada, Australia (It's a continent, I know), Spain, New Jersey. We can send messages and pictures of ourselves and our mutual friends and kind of tell how our mutual friends' lives touches our lives. "Oh, you know so-and-so from college." "I know so-and-so from work". That sort of thing.
Here's the kicker. Most of my two hundred plus friends are people who I have either met, known or befriended over the course of my forty years of existence on this planet. (Yup, forty. I'm comfortable with that.) The "overwhelm" from all of that kind of crept up on me. In the beginning, it was fun to reconnect with some of my friends in college, then it was a little heavy connecting with my best friends in high school, then it was kinda weird befriending my whole high school class. After that it was time-warpy rediscovering my close friends in jr. high school, then it became a little much hooking up with my whole jr. high school class, then (just yesterday) I was sought out by the guys I hung out with on a teen tour in nineteen-eighty-something. That required me to pause. "Whoa" I thought to myself. ( If you don't know what a teen tour is, just think of it as a 2 month bus ride around the country, as a teenager). Then - and I claim full responsibility for this - I sought out the very first object of my pre-pubescent desire. A cute-as-a button girl, who shall remain nameless to protect her whereabouts, who was my first kiss - my first kiss! (my wife's okay with that, by the way). I needed to walk away from Facebook for a good two weeks after that one.
With each friend acquired, and each area of my life that I conveniently and/or unconsciously compartmentalized, came the pictures. All sorts of pictures. Class pictures - in black & white!, school hallway pictures, college party pictures, and finally the piece de resistance, a picture of me and my afore mentioned first kiss in like nineteen-seventy-blah-blah with my lanky arm around her cute-as-a-button shoulders. We were about eleven years old. It looked like the wardrobe department for That 70's Show exploded all over us.
I've gone about as far back as my memory, and modern photography, can go to literally trace together the different phases of my life. And it all rushes back to me when ever I log in to my account. And you know what? It's all good.
I can look back on my life and see how I've recorded it, how lucky I am to have my family and friends. I can see how my friends have recorded their lives, where they have been, who they are now with, the families they have created and as I do I can see how I had been a part of their lives, who I was when I knew them, who I was when we lost touch and who I am now after we've re-established contact. and I can sincerely say that I've had an outstanding forty years on this planet. (Yup, I'm forty and I'm comfortable with that). All of those forgotten places and forgotten faces are now just a few click away.
It's because of Facebook that I'm able to see the single moments of my whole life strung together and displayed in pixels and wall posts on my computer. My Facebook page is the tableau of my life. And I really like what I see.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
buzz words...buzz jobs...buzz off!
Well it happened. Just the other day. I was sitting in the Whole Foods at the Time Warner Center. I was minding my own business, reading the paper, enjoying my freshly brewed cup of coffee and my eyes began to wander - as they sometimes do in this visual landscape that we call New York City. I noticed a shopper with the trademark Whole Foods brown paper bag. My subconscious read the message printed on the side. I heard it out loud....only in my head... "Our Core Values", it read. I sorta stuck on that for a beat. "Our Core Values"...."that sounds vaguely familiar" I said to myself...only in my head..."Our Core Values, Our Core Values. Hmmm, why does that ring a bell"...myself said....Wait a minute. Core Values? It rings a bell 'cause that's what I do for a living. I help my clients identify and honor their Core Values. "That's valuable stuff I said"...only in my head...What the heck is that doing printed on a shopping bag? Have we, as a society, completely bastardized the whole concept of "values" that it just appears as a catch phrase on a grocery bag? Is the term "Core Values" pulverizing our senses so much that we've become desensitized to what the heck that bloody term really means!? Hey. Don't get me wrong. I happen to like Whole Foods just as much as the next guy....for food....good food. I don't go there shopping for values though...core values, food values (they don't call it Whole Paycheck for nothing) or otherwise. Imagine going down the produce isle and right next to the organic eggplant is a bushel of honesty or a bundle of creativity. I can see it now. The throngs of New Yorkers elbowing each other to get the reddest expressiveness, or the softest compassion. I mean c'mon here people. What I do here at Visceral Coaching is precious work. I work with my clients to dig down below the surface to unearth what highly personal tenants in life they choose to live by. These tenants, ie: values, are threads that intertwine together to make up the very fabric of who they are and why they do what they do. Life is not a marketing campaign, ya know.
When I'm asked by people what it is I do for a living I tell them I'm an Empowerment Coach. Sometimes, the person who asks cocks their head slightly - y'know like the RCA dog. I also get "Oh a coach, good for you", or my favorite..."What qualifies you to be a coach?"
Reasonable question.
It seems that just about anyone with a crooked number of decades on this earth figures that it's enough to call themselves a coach. There certainly are a lot of us out there, that's for sure. I can't speak for everyone, so I won't. What qualifies me to be a coach?
To put it succinctly - I see BS.
People...a lot of people are full of BS. Myself included. That's why I have a coach. He calls me out what I'm slinging it.
So as a coach, I say "Cut the BS."
I ask, "What do you really want?"
"And what are you willing to do to have what you really want?"
"Pitch the rest of it like the garbage that it is and get on with it."
This, simply and for real, is what my clients and I work on. What else is there anyway?...
Now I've spent many a day befuddled by what my place is in this world, who I am, what my voice is, my purpose, all of that...Today, I'm on the other side. I found my place, my voice, my home. I went straight through it, like a fullback over the center on 4th & goal...So that's what qualifies me.
So, life isn't unfolding the way you expected it to? Unhappy at work? At home? On the subway?
Well, whats the "Core Value" that's not being honored that makes you unhappy?
Dig in there and find it.
You don't need twenty years of therapy to figure that one out.....No you don't!
Is it enough to, as Thoreau put it, "...lead lives of quiet desperation." Is that good enough!? There's a two letter answer for that question. N-O.
Cut the BS.
Dig, if that's what in necessary.
Find your Core Values - they're not on a shopping bag, by the way.
Claim your space on this planet.
Make your mark and L-I-V-E!
Any questions - here's my number: (646) 736 7572
When I'm asked by people what it is I do for a living I tell them I'm an Empowerment Coach. Sometimes, the person who asks cocks their head slightly - y'know like the RCA dog. I also get "Oh a coach, good for you", or my favorite..."What qualifies you to be a coach?"
Reasonable question.
It seems that just about anyone with a crooked number of decades on this earth figures that it's enough to call themselves a coach. There certainly are a lot of us out there, that's for sure. I can't speak for everyone, so I won't. What qualifies me to be a coach?
To put it succinctly - I see BS.
People...a lot of people are full of BS. Myself included. That's why I have a coach. He calls me out what I'm slinging it.
So as a coach, I say "Cut the BS."
I ask, "What do you really want?"
"And what are you willing to do to have what you really want?"
"Pitch the rest of it like the garbage that it is and get on with it."
This, simply and for real, is what my clients and I work on. What else is there anyway?...
Now I've spent many a day befuddled by what my place is in this world, who I am, what my voice is, my purpose, all of that...Today, I'm on the other side. I found my place, my voice, my home. I went straight through it, like a fullback over the center on 4th & goal...So that's what qualifies me.
So, life isn't unfolding the way you expected it to? Unhappy at work? At home? On the subway?
Well, whats the "Core Value" that's not being honored that makes you unhappy?
Dig in there and find it.
You don't need twenty years of therapy to figure that one out.....No you don't!
Is it enough to, as Thoreau put it, "...lead lives of quiet desperation." Is that good enough!? There's a two letter answer for that question. N-O.
Cut the BS.
Dig, if that's what in necessary.
Find your Core Values - they're not on a shopping bag, by the way.
Claim your space on this planet.
Make your mark and L-I-V-E!
Any questions - here's my number: (646) 736 7572
Friday, April 25, 2008
Home for the soul
I put my feet into the Pacific Ocean last week. As that first tiny wash of salt water ran over my winterized, sweat sock laden feet, I couldn't help but but breath out. It was a deep breath that began at my intestines and ended at my tear ducts. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been at water’s edge.
A day later I went all the way in. I think I was the only one in there over the age of 35. It didn't matter. I was leaving later that night and I didn't know when I'd be back. I needed to at least squat until a wave broke over my head. I got up the gumption to dive through a few waves. It was just as I remembered it to be. Peaceful, weightless, innocent, other worldly and cold - shrinkage cold. That didn't matter either. As I was submerged, my soul took a deep breath. I was home. It had been so long. Too long.
Later that day when I was packing for the red eye back...home. I could feel the salt from the water clinging to my skin as it rubbed against my clothes. I decided not to shower. I wanted to bring the pacific back east. When I walked through the doorway to my apartment I thought about showering. I napped instead. I enjoyed being cradled by what remained of The Pacific.
A day later I went all the way in. I think I was the only one in there over the age of 35. It didn't matter. I was leaving later that night and I didn't know when I'd be back. I needed to at least squat until a wave broke over my head. I got up the gumption to dive through a few waves. It was just as I remembered it to be. Peaceful, weightless, innocent, other worldly and cold - shrinkage cold. That didn't matter either. As I was submerged, my soul took a deep breath. I was home. It had been so long. Too long.
Later that day when I was packing for the red eye back...home. I could feel the salt from the water clinging to my skin as it rubbed against my clothes. I decided not to shower. I wanted to bring the pacific back east. When I walked through the doorway to my apartment I thought about showering. I napped instead. I enjoyed being cradled by what remained of The Pacific.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Phone Cam Art
Got a new phone recently. Dropped my first one in a toilet. It dried out but the camera was fried. I lived with it for a while until our dog, Luna, bit into the keyboard. The phone was perpetually calling the first contact on my contact list. And whenever I hung up the phone after saying sorry.........again, it would type the letter "p". Can't really work around that. So I got a new one from the insurance company. WELL worth the five bucks a month. 
My new phone has a camera. I commited to using it more. These are some of my PHONE CAM ART shots of the city. Enjoy....
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
The exciting misadventures of Skeptical Man!
Welcome ladies and Gentleman to our latest installment of Skeptical Man. When we last saw Skeptical Man he was trying to compose a letter to the various US credit bureaus in hopes of clearing his besmirched credit history. After two drafts Skeptical Man still can't quite phrase things the way he'd like. Perhaps you can help him. After lengthy discussions and a written contract stating this information will not be used against him now and/or in perpetuity, we've arranged to show you - our viewing audience Skeptical Man's latest draft to the US credit bureaus. He is "somewhat willing" to accept your feedback on how to improve this letter. Please help Skeptical Man. It reads as follows:
Dear Credit Bureaus,
You guys screwed up on my credit report. I paid off that tax lien when I was supposed to, sorta. By the way, I know you guys are in cahoots the state to keep me down. Actually, I can't wait for the day when I can finally tell you guys where to get off. I can't do that now, so please take off those bogus charges on my report. I put some other papers in this envelope I'm sending you to prove to you that I'm not the deadbeat that you think I am. If you gotta call or write to me, my information is on this letter. Don't call my cell phone 'cause I'm outta minutes. That reminds me, I gotta write the cell phone people a letter too - give 'em a piece of my mind. Anyway, that's about it. Oh, don't sell my information to anybody unless you gimme my cut. Thanks for your time, I guess.
Skeptical Man.
Stay tuned for our next installment of Skeptical man when he battles the forces of the New York City Transit Authority.
Dear Credit Bureaus,
You guys screwed up on my credit report. I paid off that tax lien when I was supposed to, sorta. By the way, I know you guys are in cahoots the state to keep me down. Actually, I can't wait for the day when I can finally tell you guys where to get off. I can't do that now, so please take off those bogus charges on my report. I put some other papers in this envelope I'm sending you to prove to you that I'm not the deadbeat that you think I am. If you gotta call or write to me, my information is on this letter. Don't call my cell phone 'cause I'm outta minutes. That reminds me, I gotta write the cell phone people a letter too - give 'em a piece of my mind. Anyway, that's about it. Oh, don't sell my information to anybody unless you gimme my cut. Thanks for your time, I guess.
Skeptical Man.
Stay tuned for our next installment of Skeptical man when he battles the forces of the New York City Transit Authority.
September 11th
It's been a few months since my last blog post. Things are busy. Life is good. Anna and I just watched the NY1 coverage of the WTC memorial........What to say. All appropriate emotions were present. Today, six years ago, Anna and I sat at a table in the Equinox fitness club on 19th street (where I was working) watching the events of the day unfold. She had made her way uptown from Bank Street in the West Village with thousands of other New Yorkers heading north. After the queasy feeling of not knowing where she was for the first few hours of that morning, we stayed at the gym for a while, watching it transform from a high end "club" to a temporary stopping point for people to sit, check in with the TV, shower off the dust, or try to contact family. Our life pivoted that morning, as did all of ours. I remembered that my brother-in-law was scheduled to come in to New York from Boston either by train or plane.
"What time?" I asked the night before.
"Early." he said.
"On my sister's Birthday?" I asked
"She said it was alright." he answered.
Yeah.....my sisters birthday.
The news that the first plane to hit the towers took off from Logan airport in Boston was already out. The cell phone towers were maxed out. It took a while to get through to him. He was scheduled to come to NY by train. But luckily not that early. The train never left Boston.
Anna tried to get through to her parents in Calgary. It took a couple of hours. When she did. I heard her say to her father "I love you too." So there I was....... sitting with my girlfriend, experiencing the reality of this event and I realized "There has to be more to life than what I've done so far." My vision shifted dramatically. I was the closest I've ever been to my own mortality. "What will I leave behind when I have to go?"
Bottom line - Anna and I grew closer on that day and in the days to follow. Now we're married and we're working on our impact on the world.
We honor the victims and the first responders who gave the ultimate sacrifice. The soldiers who fight bravely - right now - for a foggy cause and most importantly............
We celebrate life. On my sisters birthday. The giving of life. The continuium of life. Our human condition and all appropriate emotions that are present.
"What time?" I asked the night before.
"Early." he said.
"On my sister's Birthday?" I asked
"She said it was alright." he answered.
Yeah.....my sisters birthday.
The news that the first plane to hit the towers took off from Logan airport in Boston was already out. The cell phone towers were maxed out. It took a while to get through to him. He was scheduled to come to NY by train. But luckily not that early. The train never left Boston.
Anna tried to get through to her parents in Calgary. It took a couple of hours. When she did. I heard her say to her father "I love you too." So there I was....... sitting with my girlfriend, experiencing the reality of this event and I realized "There has to be more to life than what I've done so far." My vision shifted dramatically. I was the closest I've ever been to my own mortality. "What will I leave behind when I have to go?"
Bottom line - Anna and I grew closer on that day and in the days to follow. Now we're married and we're working on our impact on the world.
We honor the victims and the first responders who gave the ultimate sacrifice. The soldiers who fight bravely - right now - for a foggy cause and most importantly............
We celebrate life. On my sisters birthday. The giving of life. The continuium of life. Our human condition and all appropriate emotions that are present.
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