Shallow Hal Syndrome

"In what world do they exist?" Do you find yourself asking this question about someone who no matter what, they just don't seem to get it? And I don't mean that they sort of don't get it. I mean, there is no earthly way that they are existing in the same world as everyone else. And what's worse is that no matter how hard you try to make them see what the rest of world sees, somehow they always seem to find a way to convince themselves that everyone else is crazy and they're right. This is what I call Shallow Hal Syndrome.

You remember the movie Shallow Hal, right? Jack Black's character (Hal) starts off as a realist -- you know, the kind of guy who only wants to date beautiful women. He's shallow (hence the title) and a jerk, but hey, at least he's honest with himself and with the rest of the world about who he is. Then he gets hypnotized, and that results in him only being able to see the inner beauty of a woman. He ends up dating Rosemary, a morbidly obese woman to the rest of the world, but because of Hal's new found state of delusion, I mean hypnosis, his view of her is nothing but roses. Well, actually, his view of her is Gwyneth Paltrow. But you understand my point. And it doesn't matter how much people try to get him to see the truth, in his mind, everything is perfect.

Enter Shallow Hal Syndrome. It's a state of delusion about one's self that's so far removed from the reality of what everyone else sees and thinks that it almost feels other-worldly. Like somehow this person is just trying to punk us and one day Ashton Kutcher is going to come blasting through the parking lot with a camera crew in tow to make us all feel like big idiots for actually thinking this person could possibly be serious. But here's the thing -- they are serious. And at what point do we stop trying to undo the hypnosis that this person is so clearly under? When do we give up on the notion that they'll ever regain a sense of reality (that is if they ever had one to begin with!)?

How do you convince someone that despite their deep and unbelievable denial, they really aren't perfect? In fact, they're not even close to it. Better yet, the gap between their perception of themselves and what everyone else thinks is of grand canyon-like proportions. And I'm talking not one or two people -- I'm talking just about everyone they encounter thinks the exact opposite of the person than what they think of themselves. So how do you do it? How do you convince someone they have Shallow Hal Syndrome?

I know -- what if you could diagnose it? You know, like restless leg syndrome or irritable bowel syndrome. What if you could reduce Shallow Hal Syndrome to a three-letter acronym -- SHS. Then maybe it would seem more treatable. Then maybe we wouldn't find ourselves so frustrated by their utter lack of cluelessness. Because then we could just say -- oh, well, you know she has SHS.

Consistency

Hypothetically speaking...what if I blogged more often? Would I be combating one of life's biggest challenges -- consistency. But is it enough to just be consistent? (see earlier post about the pursuit of excellence). Shouldn't my goal be consistency with excellence? Just aksin'. Trust me -- I DO have a lot to say and within the next week, I will bring you up to speed on all that's been brewing in my mind for the past couple of months. Coming down the pike, a little bit in political observation and personality absurdities.

It's All in the Game

So here we are -- in the middle of march madness, sitting under the leadership of a President who filled his brackets out in front of ESPN cameras, and all around the country people are obsessed with which team is advancing. Or more importantly, if the teams advancing are the ones they picked. It was a few weeks ago, during the NBA All-Star game in Phoenix, that a group of current and former players sat around a table to watch playbacks of the President on the court and critique his game. One those players, the great Magic Johnson, offered a very insightful analysis of President Obama's style of play. He said it was fitting that Mr. Obama played the point guard position because that's the position driving the game forward. Magic said the point guard is always thinking five minutes ahead of the current play -- anticipating the pass, the cut to the basket, the set up of the defense, and most importantly, the movement of the offense. The point guard has to see the whole game and pass or shoot the ball to set the other guys up to score.

And as someone who used to play the point position myself back in my junior high and high school basketball days, that analogy got me thinking. I bring a lot of my "point guard" qualities to my job today. I manage alot of moving parts and have to anticipate the possible pitfalls along the way. I'm thinking one week, five weeks, even twelve weeks down the line to organize those parts and give everyone their assignments. And like a point guard, when a teammate (or coworker) misses his assignment on the court/office, I get upset -- because that means it throws off the whole offensive strategy, and now we have to play in transition. I'm also competitive and know that what I do as an individual can impact the whole team. Basketball is a team sport and one slacker on the court can ruin the game for the entire team. And when the team loses, I lose.

Then I compared it to my husband's sport of choice when he was in school -- track. My husband is a sprinter -- and a pretty good one at that. He won all sorts of awards and broke all kinds of state records when he was in high school. So what does that say about him? Well, alot, actually. Track is a highly individualized sport. You're mostly judged as an individual, and very rarely do you ever run as a team. Each race has a first, second, or third place and everyone else is just someone on the field. It's a low-key sport, meaning it doesn't typically attract large, sold-out crowds. But it does require a certain element of confidence, even cockiness, in some of the shorter-distance races. And then there's strategy. You have to pace yourself and figure out at what point to pick up the speed and start to put the pressure on the other runners to either pick theirs up too or get left in the dust.

In a lot of ways, this very much describes my husband. He's one of the most competitive people I know. Silver or bronze just isn't good enough -- you have to be the best to take home the gold. He's a very independent thinker. He doesn't depend on anyone else's analysis of any situation -- he conducts his own research and draws his conclusion based upon what makes the most sense to him. He is his own team. You very rarely see him intentionally standing out in the middle of a crowd -- that's the low-key part of him. And strategy and analysis are everything to him. He's learning your moves so he can decide what his should be. This plays out in his work as a financial crimes investigator. But then he's also quick off the blocks. He decides and decides quickly, and once he's made up his mind, he's at the finish line before you can even hit a comfortable stride. And man, is he confident! He knows the sport of life is as much mental as it is physical. So there are a lot of similarities to be made between our personalities and our sports.

So here's the question -- what if your approach on life could be traced back to the sports you played as a kid? And if not sports then some other extracurricular activity, like dance or theatre, or painting or even academic decathlon? Do the characteristics of your childhood hobbies play out in your life today?

The Pursuit of Excellence

I know it's been a while since I last posted, but I'm back and ready to blog!!! This week's topic -- current events. With all the recent talk about bank bailouts and AIG bonuses, I thought I'd take this opportunity to discuss what I think the real problem is with the current state of the financial industry, and other industries, for that matter.

About seven years ago, through a very strange and serendipitous chain events, I ended up having dinner one night with the man who invented Sweet 'n Low. As a young 23-year old, I'd never really been around "money" (save the typically irresponsible college student with loaded parents who paid for their entire private school education). And this man had it. Not in a way that was braggadocios but in a way that was quietly confident and fully aware of the responsibility his wealth gave him to the community. It was in this context that the meeting with him happened.

I accompanied my then-boss to a downtown theatre where we were to meet Stephen O'Dell. At the time, I had no idea who he was or what he did, only that we were meeting some guy interested in funding an inner-city theatre arts project. And the real reason I was there had absolutely nothing to do with the meeting itself -- my boss needed someone to ride with her so she could catch the carpool lane -- seriously. But I was there "taking notes" as her "assistant" when we met Stephen, his wife, and the young man manging this arts projects (let's call him Joe).

So there we are at dinner at the Palm Restaurant and nothing on the menu was cheap. I had no idea he'd be paying for dinner and the $400 bottle of wine (you know, that first time being around money thing). But as we waited for our food (I just ordered a measily appetizer), conversation ensued. And it was then that I learned who Mr. O'Dell was -- yes he invented Sweet 'n Low but he also lived by a creed that drove his success and his mission to preserve the arts in greatly underserved communities.

As the conversation continued, it turned to money for the arts project. Joe was visibly nervous and anxious about being able to raise the money he needed to have a real impact in the community. You could see his mind racing, his calculations computing. Of course, Steven O'Dell could just give him the money he needed without the blink of an eye but he only committed to a small portion of the overall amount, which made Joe even more nervous. And then, as if the moment stood still to me, Mr. O'Dell looked at him sitting across the table, placed his hand on top of Joe's clinched and folded hands and said, "Joe, don't worry about the money. The money will be there. You will never get the money by pursuing it. Pursue excellence and the money will come." He went on to say that-that was exactly why he wouldn't give him all the money he needed -- he wanted the pressure Joe felt of not having all the money to drive him even further toward excellence.

Seven years later and that is still the wisest piece of advice I've ever heard. I still have this quote laying on my desk and it's been undeniably true in my own life.

So as all of the chaos began to unfold in the financial markets and the real costs of all that unchecked risk began to take its toll on not just those who took the risk but even on those who didn't, I began to think about this advice. And it made me wonder -- would our economy be where it is now if businesses and, really the individuals who run them, took a different approach? What if the real mission of business wasn't the pursuit of profits? What if the real mission was the pursuit of excellence?

Revenge Is Best Served With An Upgrade

So my girlfriend and I were talking about this the other day after I came across a picture of one my ex-boyfriends -- a guy I hadn't seen in over eight years. He wasn't a bad guy. I mean, he didn't cheat on me or anything. But he wasn't exactly the kind of boyfriend you brag about to your friends. More like the kind of guy you always find yourself making excuses for. That is until there just aren't any more excuses to give. He'd sometimes goes days without calling me -- of course, he tried but for some reason he couldn't get through on my line. Or, he'd take me to a party at one of his friend's houses, usually someone I didn't know very well, and end up leaving me to fend for myself while he was yucking it up with the guys. Of course, he wanted to give me a chance to mingle and meet new people. And when we finally did break up, it took me a good year and half to get over him, trying to figure out why we weren't meant to be when everything in my my mind said we were.

He'd call every so often to tell me he missed me or was thinking about me. And as luck would have it, those calls usually came within days of me deciding to get over it, once and for all. But then I met my husband, and from the start, things were just different. He was attentive and thoughtful; protective and personal. He'd brag to his friends that I was his "Pepperdine" girl because he was proud to have me. He'd drive over an hour to come see me with a broken driver-side window, in the rain. Talk about night and day.

And then one day, after we'd been dating for a few months, I got another one of those calls from my ex. He'd been "trying to reach me for four months" but as luck would have it, he was only able to get through the week of his company Christmas party -- one that he wanted me to go to with him, out of town, on my own dime. Imagine his shock when I told him I had a boyfriend. But it didn't end there.

Four years later when he found out I was getting married, my mom saw him at a community function and he lamented to her, "So, my girl's getting married, huh?" To which she quipped, "she hasn't been your girl for a long time now." And now four years after that, our lives couldn't be more different. Our mothers are still pretty good friends, so I get the update every so often. He's not married, not even dating anyone...and hasn't in a really long time. He's finally finishing up school after rebelling against it for so long and is starting to find his footing as an artist. Good for him! He really is talented.

But I had realized that I wasted far too much time trying to make him love me the way I loved him. And after I was over it, I mean really over it, I remember telling my best friend that he was a good guy, he just was never my guy.

And it just so happens that I occasionally stay in touch with one of his siblings, which is how the picture emerged. And let's just say that he doesn't look at all how I remember him, which made me think about how far I've come in the last eight years and how much my life has improved since that time.

And that got me thinking -- what if revenge wasn't about getting even after all. What if the best revenge was about getting better?

Is 'Stupid' a Prerequisite?

What if life was like college, with courses and majors and professors and yes, prerequisites? Are there certain classes (or lessons) you have to pass before you're qualified to start on a major? Take desperate for example. You know that feeling you get after you just graduated, you're sending out resumes like crazy, no one's calling back, the first student loan payment is coming due soon, and still...nothing. You're desperate for a job and you secretly vow to take the first thing that comes along. That's Desperation 1o1. You go through that and maybe you do end up taking that job, only to have it turn into a near miserable experience. Then you make another vow to never do that again. It's an experience that's helped shape you, and in some way, qualified you to move on because you passed the course, even if just barely. But a passing grade is a passing grade. And now you know that no matter how desperate you may feel, waiting for the right position is always the better way to go.

I think Stupid is one of those pre-reqs. We've all been there -- when you took back the boyfriend (or girlfriend) that cheated on you and humiliated you, only to later ask, "How could I have been so stupid?". Or, the time you let him borrow your credit card to rent a car, only to have him never call you again and return the car over a month later -- all charged to you. Then there's time you were stood up...on New Year's...and instead of calling it quits immediately, you accepted the lame excuse he gave, kept seeing him, and yes, he ended up doing it again, only this time he left you hanging on a trip to Santa Barbara that you freed up your entire weekend to attend. (Yes, this did actually happen to me!) In all of these cases (all real, by the way), you always look back in retrospect and ask the age-old question -- what the hell was I thinking?

But what if you needed that course to graduate? What if, on the transcript of life, you needed to have a passing grade in the 'Stupid' class? After all, it's only after you have these experiences that you're really able to keep them or anything like them, from happening again.

I like to think that life is full of prerequisites (like naive and immature, and maybe even reckless and irresponsible) that serve as building blocks for the majors in life -- like career, marriage, children, or caring for elderly parents. It's when we don't learn from those pre-reqs that we fail and end up dropping out before ever receiving a passing grade. And that's when you have to repeat the course.

So where are you in your degree? Are you well on your way to graduation or are you stuck in freshman seminar?

An Expiration Date...on Dating

You know that "best if used by" date we've come to rely on when grocery shopping or cooking? Well, what if there was an expiration date on dating? What if after a certain point in your relationship you reach a "use it or lose it" point?

I happen to think there's some wisdom in the expiration date. I mean, how long can you keep something before it spoils or just turns into a bad idea when you try to get just one more use out of it? To me, dating is a lot like that. How long can you date before it turns unhealthy, bad for you, something you should have gotten rid of a long time ago?

Case and point -- one of my husband's friends. He's been dating his...girlfriend...for five years now. Off and on, of course. She recently bought a condo that he was going to share with her but then he backed out at the last minute...because he didn't "trust" her. That led her to put the ix-nay on him moving in. But they stayed together. Then on Christmas he decided he just couldn't take anymore. They argued -- all instigated by her, let him tell it -- and he said he just had enough. Until new year's, when they spent the evening together.

So...five years and he still doesn't trust her??? Five years and they should be sending out thank you letters after the wedding.

But let's not pick on him. Take me, for example. I met my husband when I was just shy of 22. Now, granted, I was on a faster track toward marriage than he was (I saw engagement in a year, he thought more like three years); but there was definitely an end in sight. I told him from the onset that if we weren't married or at least engaged after five years, then we needed to break up and move on with our lives. The way I see it, if you don't know after five years, you're never going to know. So why waste any more of each other's time? You know, the "use by" date.

Which....brings me back to his friend. Five years has come and gone, and it's time to start checking that expiration date.

I've had some of my friends tell me, "you can't put a time on love" and "why not just go with the flow and let it happen when it happens" -- to which I respond, give me a break! Nobody needs that much time to make a decision. Life is about forward movement. It's unhealthy when you don't grow at a normal pace; it's unhealthy to eat expired food; and it's unhealthy to continue dating ad infinitum. Now...if neither of you wants to get married and you both agree and are on the same page about it -- great. But when one of you wants to move forward and the other isn't moving with you, for whatever reason, it's time to check the expiration date.

I have a coworker whose roommate's dating situation is less than ideal, to put it delicately. She is waiting for some major life changes to happen with her man so they can "be together." OK, fine. And naturally, my coworker is concerned about her and the choices she's making. But my question is -- how long will she wait -- 2 years, 5 years, 15 years, 45 years?

How long is too long? And when does the dating expire? When is your "best if used by" date? And if you don't have one, shouldn't you? Don't you run the risk of letting something meant to be healthy become toxic?