The only thing constant in life is change — but somehow we don’t think that applies to us?

At a fantastic New Year’s Day party, I talked to another guest about how smart we were in college, how our 20-year-old selves had it all figured out.

Then we laughed, making affectionate fun of the cockiness of youth and the perspective we now have that our youthful selves had oh so much to learn.

But here’s the thing: apparently we humans are just as irrationally cocky no matter our age.

The New York Times ran an article earlier this week headlined, “Why You Won’t Be the Person You Expect to Be.” Reporting on new research out in the journal Science,  John Tierney wrote:

When we remember our past selves, they seem quite different. We know how much our personalities and tastes have changed over the years. But when we look ahead, somehow we expect ourselves to stay the same, a team of psychologists said Thursday, describing research they conducted of people’s self-perceptions.

They called this phenomenon the “end of history illusion,” in which people tend to “underestimate how much they will change in the future.” According to their research, which involved more than 19,000 people ages 18 to 68, the illusion persists from teenage years into retirement.

“Middle-aged people — like me — often look back on our teenage selves with some mixture of amusement and chagrin,” said one of the authors, Daniel T. Gilbert, a psychologist at Harvard. “What we never seem to realize is that our future selves will look back and think the very same thing about us. At every age we think we’re having the last laugh, and at every age we’re wrong.”

This seems like the perfect insight with which to kick off my fifth year of a blog about change and living life intentionally.

Even if we’re comfy cozy with things just as they are, the world doesn’t hold still — the dynamic on your job is evolving, your spouse’s needs are shifting, your kids are getting older, your aging body feels different, new neighbors might move in, your pet might get sick. So even if today was the best day of your entire life, you can savor it but you can’t cryogenically preserve it.

I recently read a great analogy: think of all the external influences of your life as a rushing river, and you’re in it. You can hold on to a branch for dear life, trying to stay put in the same spot in the river, or you can float with the current, avoiding rocks and swimming as needed. You don’t know where it’ll deposit you, but you can choose your path along the way.

A couple of years ago, John and I were talking a lot about wanting to find a “forever home.” We wanted to move one last time and put down deep roots for the rest of our lives. We wrestled with where that should be, what kind of house, what kind of community.

Then a wise friend, Kim Curtin, released the pressure. She said it’s impossible to see into the future and predict what future you will want. What will your financial situation be, what work will you be doing, what will your health be, what hobbies will you be passionate about? That’s all unknown. So instead, she said, do what feels right now and adjust as needed.

I still love the idea of planting ourselves someplace that suits us perfectly. But I carry with me that perspective that I don’t know what I’ll need most at 50 or 70. I haven’t met that Colleen yet.

If you’re a subscriber to Science, you can read the full research paper here.

Blogversation 2012: What is your worst personal trait and how do you deal with it?

Throughout this year, several bloggers will engage in a conversation here and on their blogs — asking questions of each other and responding. Others are absolutely welcome to join the conversation, as well. Learn more about the ladies of Blogversation 2012.

Today we shake it up in the Blogversation — we’re starting a rotation of each of the participating bloggers posing a question of the others in the group, and of course, anyone else who wants to jump in.

Today’s question comes from Maria Stuart, http://mariastuart.com, @mariastuart on Twitter:

What is your worst personal trait and how do you deal with it to be a better person?

What makes a marriage meaningful?

The New York Times recently ran an interesting article headlined The Happy Marriage Is the ‘Me’ Marriage.

Tara Parker-Pope wrote about not what makes a marriage last but what makes it meaningful, including the ways your partner makes your life better:

Dr. Aron and Gary W. Lewandowski Jr., a professor at Monmouth University in New Jersey, have studied how individuals use a relationship to accumulate knowledge and experiences, a process called “self-expansion.” Research shows that the more self-expansion people experience from their partner, the more committed and satisfied they are in the relationship.

To measure this, Dr. Lewandowski developed a series of questions for couples: How much has being with your partner resulted in your learning new things? How much has knowing your partner made you a better person? (Take the full quiz measuring self-expansion.)

“If you’re seeking self-growth and obtain it from your partner, then that puts your partner in a pretty important position,” he explains. “And being able to help your partner’s self-expansion would be pretty pleasing to yourself.”

Read the full article here.

This notion of self expansion being correlated to relationship satisfaction makes so much sense to me. A good mate should help you be a better version of yourself,  including experiencing things you might not otherwise.

Maintaining a healthy marriage takes work, and we want some payoff for that effort. Having a partner who makes your life richer than it would be if you’re alone seems like the return on the investment of your effort.

What do you think makes marriage meaningful?

Blogversation 2012: What did you learn in 2011 that you’re carrying forward?

Throughout this year, several bloggers will engage in a conversation here and on their blogs — asking questions of each other and responding. Others are absolutely welcome to join the conversation, as well. Learn more about the ladies of Blogversation 2012.

I had such a wild 2011, a year of such intense personal and professional transformation, that it’s hard to point to a single lesson.

If I’m to choose one, though, I’d go with this: There are only two motives in life, fear and love. Don’t let fear be my guide.

Around this time last year, I learned my position was being eliminated. This was a good job at a company I’d moved us to New York for, and I faced unemployment in the middle of a recession.

My money anxiety lurks just below the surface on a normal day, and possible unemployment turned it into something like panic and depression. What if I couldn’t find another job? What we couldn’t make a go of it in New York?

Then I took a deep breath, with much help from my husband, John. He pointed out we had money in savings for a rainy day, and if this was it, we’d be fine. I could figure out what was next without fear of us missing a rent payment. I had a good education, a good resume, a good network. If I had to find a new job, I had reason to hope for the best.

Once I cleared the fear a little, I could see clearly enough to throw my Hail Mary pass — I proposed that instead of laying me off, my company create a new part-time position for me. I laid out the financials of how I’d work to grow revenue enough to more than cover the cost of my salary.

To their great credit, the bosses listened with an open mind. They said yes, and even agreed to a provision that I mostly work from home.

I was elated. This arrangement gave me the security of a steady paycheck at a job I love with the time to start doing consulting work.

We celebrated Easter in New Orleans this year, including drinking a bloody Mary on Bourbon Street in our dapper duds.

Then it got better. If I could work from home in Brooklyn, why not New Orleans? John and I spent two months in New Orleans in the spring and another month in the fall, long enough to really sink in to the place and feel what it’s like to live in a special, unique place.

I’m not sure any of this would have happened if I’d kept my full-time job. I’m too responsible, too practical, to walk away from steady work, but when it wasn’t going to be there anyway, what did I have to lose by trying something radically different?

How do I take that into 2012? By examining my life for places where I’m clinging to the shore and to ask, as John often does, what’s the worst that could happen? Very few risks that appeal to me are fatal so why not try a few? Some might flop, but some might work, and I’ll never know if I don’t try.

Here are some posts I wrote previously about taking the leap into semi-entrepreneurship:

• Reflecting on forks in the road, on being conservative or taking a leap
• Feel the fear and do it anyway
• Are you willing to be really, really lucky?

What’s one thing you learned in 2011 or one experience you had in  2011 that you’re happy to carry with you into 2012? Why was it significant to you?

Blogversation 2012: Do you make New Year’s resolutions?

Throughout this year, several bloggers will engage in a conversation here and on their blogs — asking questions of each other and responding. Others are absolutely welcome to join the conversation, as well. Learn more about the ladies of Blogversation 2012.

I like using the calendar as a prompt in my life. I’m a big fan of birthdays, and I think they can be a good opportunity — along with the new year — to assess where you’ve just been and where you want to go in the next year.

Obviously. Look at this list of past posts I’ve done about resolutions and goals:

• Are you making a new year’s resolution?
• Setting my goals for 2011 as a comprehensive view of my life
• Reflecting on my 2010 goals
• Making resolutions you can keep
• What makes resolutions achievable?
• Let’s call them goals instead of resolutions
• Focusing on one change at a time for two months each
• HBR: Developing rituals can help achieve your goals
• Be careful what you wish for: setting goals you’re sure you want
• How do you achieve what you want?
• Christine Kane: How to Create Anything (Even When You’re Scared, Inexperienced and Don’t Believe in Yourself)

My husband did this painting for me in 2010 as an artistic version of a vision board for my life. It hangs in our bedroom so I see it every night, and it reminds me of my life goals.

But it’s so easy to make a disposable New Year’s resolution and forget it almost before the champagne hangover has worn off. Maybe that’s because we set them too big — I’m going to get my novel published and make the New York Times bestseller list — or because we set them too vague — I’m going to get in shape and get healthy. Or maybe we just never meant them at all so we never put any intention behind it?

A while back I read some good advice from a favorite blog, Zen Habits: pick just one habit you’d like to start or quit and work on that change exclusively for two months. Then you can add another.

This spring, I decided I was going to practice piano every day. It’s not always easy, either because I’m busy or unmotivated, but I just made a commitment to make a habit. Once I had momentum on it, it seemed easier. Now John is used to me disappearing for a while after dinner, and will ask if we’re out at night, “Should we get home so you can practice?”

I haven’t set any new resolutions/goals/changes for 2012, though. Maybe because I’m still absorbing the lessons of tremendous transformation in 2011? Definitely have room for improvement — I just need to make my plan and stick with it.

Do you make New Year’s resolutions? Why or why not? Any 2012 aspirations you’d like to share?

5 life lessons learned from beginner piano lessons

Me playing piano at Preservation Hall in New Orleans. No, nobody paid to see me. I was there to practice in the middle of the afternoon. (Photo credit to the wonderful Lloyd Miller.)

Sometimes when I’m struggling with a song or a concept in my piano lesson, my patient teacher Sheldon Landa will give me guidance about how to get over the hurdle.

Then as we’re discussing my problem, I’ll wonder if we’re still talking about piano — because an awful lot of what trips me up at the keyboard applies to the rest of life, too.

(Not surprising, BTW, to get some broader life wisdom when my piano teacher’s URL is practicalstressreduction.com and he creates meditation/relaxation music.)

So in honor of ending my second calendar year as a beginner piano player, here are five lessons I’ve picked up in piano that have broader implications:

1. If you make a mistake, just keep going. I’m a tough self critic, so my instinct when I hit a wrong note or lose my place is to just stop. The song’s ruined, why bother? Sheldon’s been coaching me to push through, and if needed, jump in at the start of the next measure to reclaim where I should have been. I’m working on being more gentle on myself and pushing through minor screw ups, then taking the time to learn from them later.
2. Modify the rules if you need to. It takes a lot of my brain power to play piano and tap my foot to keep time — think of a small child rubbing his stomach and patting his head — and if I hit a patch where I lose track of the beat, I panic. I’m lost in the dark woods! No, I’m not, Sheldon will tell me. Look to the next measure and start counting fresh from there. But, but … I thought the song must go on, the beat doesn’t stop, it’s a moving bus and I’ve missed it? Maybe if I’m playing with other musicians, that’d be true. On my own, I’m in control, and if I need to give myself the flexibility to rewrite the rules, I can. Better to make a shift and finish than cling to old expectations and fail.
3. Getting good at something takes time. Until then, you’re a beginner. Maybe some people sit down with a musical instrument and take to it like a fish to water. I am not that person. I’m happy to be learning but it’s slower than I expected. About a year and a half into weekly lessons, I didn’t think I’d still be crunching wrong notes in Jingle Bells. But when I spent several weeks working every day on Yesterday, to the exclusion of pretty much everything else but scales and Hanon warm up exercises, I saw my progress. Playing that one song hundreds of times showed me the power of accumulated experience.
4. If I can’t get something right, the thing in the way is probably my brain. I’m not playing technically complex pieces that require moving my fingers super fast or hopping up and down the keyboard. They’re beginner songs that often keep my hand in the same spot for a while before moving slightly. There’s almost never a physical reason I can’t hit a note. It’s me getting confused, or psyching myself out, or losing track of where I am. It’s all in my head. I’m capable of playing the song, but my grey matter gets in the way. When I stop, take a deep breath and calm down, guess what? I often can, especially if I don’t give up and maybe play it another 10 or 20 times.
5. Sometimes it’s the journey, not the destination. I enjoy my nightly piano practice ritual. I enjoy my weekly piano lessons. I’ve tried to stop being so concerned with how fast my progress is and how badly I still botch beginner songs and just appreciate doing something I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid.

I haven’t blogged much lately about piano, but I do have several past posts on learning to play:

• Why do we fear failure so much?
• Following through on my commitment: a song for my 40th birthday
• Very superstitious: How I started playing Stevie Wonder
• Baby steps toward learning to play piano (and it’s grand!)

Following your bliss, taking a hero’s journey — inspired by Finding Joe

If you know nothing else about the late mythologist Joseph Campbell, it might be his oft-quoted call to follow your bliss.

About a year ago, career coach Kim Curtin gave me advice I hadn’t expected: watch Campbell’s interviews with Bill Moyers and see what inspiration comes about following your bliss.

Then Kim started talking about the recent premiere of Finding Joe, a new documentary about Campbell’s teachings, specifically about following your bliss and another popular Campbell-ism, the hero’s journey. Here’s the trailer:

This inspiring film by Patrick Takaya Solomon features such diverse perspectives as Deepak Chopra, Mick Fleetwood and Tony Hawk. I scribbled down these 10 thoughts in the dark movie theater:

1. If you haven’t found your bliss yet, think back to the thing the other kids teased you about, the thing that made you different. Because often your bliss is not what others are doing or what others tell you to do. It’s individual to you. It’s your path, not anyone else’s.
2. Your parents most want security for you, but if you bargain away your life for security, you will never find your bliss. Living in fear of failure or fear of what people might think keeps you from your bliss.
3. The movie tells the story of a small village that covers its golden Buddha statue in mud to keep approaching invaders from stealing or damaging it. It works, but the villagers are driven from their home and eventually no one is left who remembers the statue is gold until the protective layer cracks. Sometimes your great value is hidden from view until something cracks you to let it out.
4. Nietzsche said, “The snake that cannot shed its skin perishes.”
5. Deepak Chopra suggests in the movie that you pick two or three of your favorite heroes and really think about who they are and why they appeal to you. Hold them close, and see if you don’t start to adopt some of their strengths into your own life.
6. What if you climb the corporate ladder but find it’s propped against the wrong wall?
7. Your bliss doesn’t have to be profitable to be worth doing. Part of the journey is exploration. Something that starts as a hobby could turn into a career, but you don’t have to know where it’s leading if you’re just doing something that makes your heart feel good.
8. On every hero’s journey, there is a dragon you must slay. Campbell said the dragon is often covered in scales that say “you must” or “you must not,” representing the social obligations and fears that keep you from your bliss. You must face down this dragon, though sometimes you don’t need to slay it — you can show it love and it will give you what you want. You just can’t let it defeat you.
9. What if time and money were limitless? What would you do then?
10. Courage is not the absence of fear. It’s moving forward feeling the fear. And that can be learned. It’s like going to the gym. You practice tolerance of fear and courage, and it becomes more and more familiar.

 

Learn more about Joseph Campbell at the Joseph Campbell Foundation

Learn more about Bill Moyers and his work that included six hours of interviews in The Power of Myth

Watch The Power of Myth on Netflix (if you’re a subscriber)

David Brooks observes what happy and unhappy seniors seem to have in common

New York Times columnist David Brooks recently ran an interesting amateur sociology experiment: he solicited what he called “life reports” from people 70 years old and up, sharing what they had done well and poorly, then he combed them for lessons.

With the giant caveats that:

• these are people who read the New York Times and opted in to sharing their thoughts, so it’s hardly a cross section of the larger population
• I’m not sure how much these are learnable behaviors versus expressions of personality types

the results made for thought-provoking reading, and could help form some worthwhile New Year’s resolutions.

Among the conclusions Brooks shared — very abridged here:

Divide your life into chapters. The unhappiest of my correspondents saw time as an unbroken flow, with themselves as corks bobbing on top of it.

The happier ones divided time into (somewhat artificial) phases. They wrote things like: There were six crucial decisions in my life. Then they organized their lives around those pivot points.

Beware rumination. There were many long, detailed essays by people who are experts at self-examination. They could finely calibrate each passing emotion. But these people often did not lead the happiest or most fulfilling lives.

Many of the most impressive people, on the other hand, were strategic self-deceivers. When something bad was done to them, they forgot it, forgave it or were grateful for it. When it comes to self-narratives, honesty may not be the best policy.

You can’t control other people. David Leshan made an observation that was echoed by many: “It took me twenty years of my fifty-year marriage to discover how unwise it was to attempt to remake my wife. … I learned also that neither could I remake my friends or students.”

Lean toward risk. It’s trite, but apparently true. Many more seniors regret the risks they didn’t take than regret the ones they did.

Work within institutions or crafts, not outside them. For a time, our culture celebrated the rebel and the outsider. The most miserable of my correspondents fit this mold. They were forever in revolt against the world and ended up sourly achieving little.

Read the full article, with more takeaways and more examples of each, here.

Perhaps even more interesting, read the full essays here.

When you reflect on your life thus far, do any of the above tendencies ring true? Do you think of your life in chapters or regret the risks you’d failed to take, for example?

Insights from dying people to help the rest of us with living

You’ve probably heard the cliché that no one on his death bed wishes he’d spent more time at the office.

But while I was there as both my mother and stepmother died, I don’t have any great insight into the psyche of the dying and what they wish they had or hadn’t done with their time on earth.

So I was delighted to come across a blog called Inspiration and Chai, in which writer Bronnie Ware gives a summary of the thoughts in her book, “The Top Five Regrets of the Dying.” She shares insights from her time serving dying patients in palliative care.

What can we learn about living from those facing death?

A very abridged version of Bronnie’s powerful post includes these as the top five:

1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.

2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.

This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.

3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.

Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.

We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level.

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

Often they would not truly realise the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.

It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.

When you are on your deathbed, what others think of you is a long way from your mind.

So the cliché about spending more time at the office does show up — along with other powerful lessons, like being true to yourself and making it a priority to nurture friendships.

Read Bronnie’s post in its entirety here.

This is the time of year when many of us make New Year’s resolutions. Do you see anything on this list that inspires you to want to start 2012 differently?

Study shows link between happiness and longevity

A new study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences points to a connection between happiness and longevity.

A study by University College in London of about 3,500 people found those who reported feeling happiest had a 35 percent lower risk of dying compared with those who reported feeling least happy.

A USA Today story on the research says in part:

Laura Kubzansky, an associate professor in the Department of Society, Human Development and Health, at Harvard’s School of Public Health in Boston, says there’s a “burgeoning body of work that suggests positive psychological functioning benefits health,” and this study is significant because it “adds to the arsenal.”

“It could say to people, you should take your mood seriously,” Kubzansky says. “I think people sort of undervalue emotional life anyway. This highlights the idea that if you are going through a period where you’re consistently distressed, it’s probably worth paying attention to how you feel — it matters for both psychological and physical health.”

Recently I’ve blogged about Martin Seligman’s definition of flourishing and Deepak Chopra’s formula for happiness.

This research gives one more reason to nurture your emotional well being — that is, if you want to live longer. Maybe there’s some research to be done connecting happiness with the will to live? If you’re unhappy, maybe you take worse care of yourself because you don’t see the point in prolonging your unhappiness?