Hiding

When we attempt to second guess people behaviour. When we want to figure out why somebody is acting in a certain way. When we do read the room to understand who likes us and who does not. When we catch a phrase, a movement, a gaze and we interpret it as a judgement on what we are doing or who we are. In all these cases, we put ourselves at the center, as if everything would gravitate around us.

When somebody needs a comforting word. When there’s need of a new perspective, a new approach, a new idea. When we have not heard from a person for a long time, and we miss them. When it’s time to jump on a stage and make a difference. In all these cases, we diminish ourselves, as if there’s nothing our unimportant self can do to change things.

We continuosly move from one extreme to the other, and it’s just hiding.

Above yourself

Being a parent is not so much about raising your kids as it is about rising above yourself.

Kids do not comply, they rarely listen, and when they do it’s mainly to make sure they remember what you said when they can use it against you. And so, trying to make them fit, to make them adjust, to change them is not only futile. It is counterproductive.

The only way you can be a decent parent is by looking within yourself and get a hang of all the things that stand in the way.

If there’s a behaviour that makes you go mad and shout, flag it and work on it. If there are some things you really like to do with your kids, and some things you really don’t like to do with them, notice that soon, and be anyway prepared to yield more often than not. If there are some days in which you’d just like to be left alone, first forget about it, then make sure you can be aware of that, so that you will express it with words rather than with shitty reactions. If there are occasions where you screwed up, say so, and also say you are sorry.

You are the only one who can change this.

P.S.: this is certainly valid also when you are not in a parenting situation.

“Chiacchiere da bar”

“Chiacchiere da bar” (that literally translates into “bar talk”) is an idiomatic expression we use in Italy when the conversation derails from the specificity of one’s domain. It’s the typical case in which people feel they would be better at managing a football team than actual football managers, or at leading a country than actual politicians, or at manufacturing products than actual manufacturers.

You get the idea.

We all get involved in “bar talk”, some with more passion than others. Wanting to share one’s opinion is probably very human, and nowadays we do not even have to go to the bar (and risk reputation, relationships, status) to let the world know what we would do if only someone would put us in charge of the task force responsible for fighting the coronavirus crisis.

People who have deep knowledge of one or two domains are also prone to this. It’s not a matter of education, gender, profession or race. It’s just something (apparently) incredibly difficult to avoid.

Nonetheless, it’s important to remember that “bar talk” is a choice.

Sending yet another uninformed tweet or getting tangled in yet another bottomless comment section are actions we can avoid. We could spare the time, the energy, the passion for what really matters.

And of course, this begs the question.

What does really matter (to you)?

Far from perfect

We are not in search of perfection, and yet we demand ourselves to produce perfection.

The expectations we put on our work are often way higher than those our audience has. This happens in part because we often idealize our audience – and here’s a reminder of how important it is to truly get to know those you are serving. But it also happens because perfect gives us a reason to not deliver, to postpone, to keep thinking and refining.

Accepting far from perfect is not a way to excuse our poor job, rather it is the only possible route to shipping.

Accept

Dissatisfaction lies in the difference between what’s around us and how we would like that to be. And of course, the only thing we can reliably change over time is the latter.

Our partner is not going to become more loving because we want them to. Our boss is not going to become a better one because we read a book about leadership. We are most likely not going to be successful in the vast majority of pursuits we undertake and average is going to be our natural habitat. Rainy days are still going to follow shiny sunny ones, and they are going to hurt more. The people we surround ourselves with will continue to pursue their lives paying us little attention and giving us little credit. We are probably never going to be loved as much as we love (mainly because we only feel one of the two), and others are always going to hurt us more than we hurt them (for the same exact reason).

That is life.

It does not get any better than this. Except, sometimes it does. And until we are ready to look at it for what it is, in its entirety and free from all of our expectations and demand, we won’t be ready to welcome whatever positive change it is going to bring.