Categories:
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ValuesI intend on living a long, happy life.
It would be cool to be a great-grandparent, for instance. I’ve also got many things I want to do. Write books, learn new things, start businesses and non-profits, help my community. So many plans, so little time.
Age is not the limiting factor. Health is.
So how can I live a long and happy life? Dan Buettner, a National Geographic writer, believes he knows the answer. He founded the organization Quest Network, Inc. to conduct a study of “Blue Zones” – regions of the world where there are sizable populations that live active lives past one hundred years of age.
There are currently five known Blue Zones in the world:
- Sardina, Italy
- Okinawa, Japan
- Loma Linda, CA, USA
- Nicoya Peninsula, Costa Rica
- Icaria, Greece
Buettner and his organization studied these regions and discovered four key traits that all share, regardless of geography, culture, religion, or other factors.
- Move Naturally
- Right Outlook
- Eat Wisely
- Connect
Move Naturally
People living in Blue Zones don’t run marathons or lift heavy weights in gyms. They don’t sit in front of the TV or computers a lot either. Instead, they take a lot of walks. They climb up stairs. They hike up mountains. They even tend gardens, which require daily manual labor.
The Sardinians live on hillsides. So to get around, many walk up and down these hills all the time, even those in their eighties. Many Okinawans maintain personal gardens that they cultivate with pride. It’s not uncommon to see elders plowing and raking and pulling out weeds.
The trick is to do something active every day that you enjoy. That way, being active isn’t a chore; it is something you look forward to. And that’s why it works.
If you love doing cardio at the gym, then more power to you. Otherwise, take a walk around the block. Walk to the local grocery store instead of driving. Use the stairs instead of the elevator. Take a parking spot further away from the entrance of the mall so you have to walk a bit. Play sports with friends. Play the Nintendo Wii. Do something active everyday.
Right Outlook
Blue Zone inhabitants maintain a healthy perspective on life. They take time to slow down and relax from their hectic schedules. They use healthy outlets to vent their stress. They take problems in stride.
It’s not that they live boring, unexciting lives. Loma Linda is the home of a large medical university and medical community. Being a doctor is far from relaxing. The majority of these residents – those that regularly live long, active lives, at least – are also Seventh-day Adventists, a Christian denomination. Their religion aids in their ability to find peace with their frustrations.
Aside from mechanisms to dispel stress, Blue Zone inhabitants also deeply believe they have a purpose in life. That purpose could be as small as the Okinawan fisherman who sees his purpose is to fish so he can feed his family, or the Okinawan grandmother who knows her purpose is to care for her great-great-grandchildren. Religion also imbues a deep sense of purpose to Seventh-day Adventists.
Many don’t retire. They keep on doing what they enjoy doing, because they believe it is their purpose, their reason to get up every day.
Look for healthy outlets for your stress. Some use exercise, some take walks, and some create art to find relief. For others, it’s spirituality, religion, or their family and community.
A sense of purpose is also equally important. If you don’t have a reason to wake up every day and stay healthy, then find one. Spirituality and religion fill this hole for many. Family and community fill this for others. Still others find their purpose in their work or art. And sometimes your purpose isn’t bestowed upon you; it is something you go out and determine for yourself.
Eat Wisely
Those in Blue Zones eat healthy food in moderation. By healthy food, I mean their diets include a lot of vegetables and little processed food. Seventh-day Adventists are vegetarians. Okinawans eat lots of fresh fish. Sardinians consume homemade food. Each community has a different meal mix, though all contain a lot of vegetables and little processed food.
By moderation, I mean they don’t overeat. They don’t serve huge, American-sized portions. The Okinawans even eat from small plates as a means to minimize overeating. Others take breaks between servings. Since it takes several minutes before the feeling of satiation hits your stomach, taking a break can curb the amount you eat.
Include more vegetables in your diet. Decrease the amount of processed food and fast food from your daily intake as much as possible, or remove it altogether. You don’t need vitamin supplements as long as you eat a wide variety of vegetables, grains, and meats.
And perhaps even more importantly, reduce your portion sizes. Eat from small bowls. Take breaks between servings. You may find yourself feeling full without the usual volume you consume.
Connect
The last common aspect of all Blue Zone elders is their sense of family and community. To them, family comes first. Grandparents aren’t shut away in nursing homes. Respect increases with age, so the eldest are given the most respect.
They also feel a sense of belonging within their communities. Friendships endure throughout lifetimes. A person can count on a friend in time of need, and give selflessly when that friend is in need. You’ve got my back, I’ve got your back.
These tight bonds are formed with people of similar values as well. Everyone in a particular community shares the same core values of enjoyable activities (walks, hikes, etc), a healthy outlook (able to vent with each other, a feeling of purpose), healthy diets (natural foods in moderation), and a sense of belonging.
If you’ve been estranged from your family, consider making amends. Be the bigger person and take the first step at healing that bond. In cases where that’s totally impossible, foster the friendships you have, especially with those that share the same values. Consider being a part of a healthy tight-knit community, such as an activity group, special interest group, religious group, etc.
Is This Possible?
For some, this news is obvious to you. But for others, this may seem entirely impossible. How such a lifestyle can be followed in today’s society? I hear you. I know it’s not easy.
I don’t think it’s impossible either. It just takes some extra effort and a lot of discipline. Moving naturally and eating wisely are the easiest ones to do first, since they involve changes in behavior. The tough part is sticking to the new behavior long enough for it to become habit.
Having the right outlook and connecting to others are much tougher. The first involves changing a mental model that’s been ingrained for years. The second involves both behavioral and mental changes.
Part of having the right outlook is having healthy outlets for stress. This can include exercising, talking to trusted friends, or creating art. There are numerous self-help websites and books you can turn to for more ideas as well.
The other part of the right outlook is a sense of purpose. If you can’t find an easy answer, you are probably waiting for that purpose to come to you. Let me correct that misconception: that is not going to happen. Not everyone is lucky enough to be given their purpose. You need to go out and find your purpose. Create one. Look for something you believe in, whether it is a family member, a vocation, or a cause. As long as it allows you to follow these other traits and doesn’t harm others, embrace it as the reason you get up every morning.
Finding a community that accepts you is probably the toughest one to achieve. If you weren’t born into a tight-knit family or community, you will have to work hard to become a part of a healthy community. However, it’s worth the effort. Once you are in a good community, a sense of purpose will almost certainly come to you.
How do you find such a community? Church groups are an obvious source. Activity groups and special interest groups are another, though not all will give you an encompassing sense of community. Some people join such groups just to do the activity, then return to their own communities without further involvement in the group.
Neighborhood-based communities are also a good source. There are “gated communities” (a set of houses enclosed within gates) that try to engender such a sense of belonging, not only for goodwill, but for protection too (crime is less common in such neighborhoods).
For some, their work can also provide a viable community, though like activity and special interest groups, not all of the members may be willing to put in the same level of commitment as you. To them, it’s just a job, not a community.
I am lucky that I follow and have a lot of these traits. Hopefully I can continue to foster them throughout my long, happy life, and vice versa. For many, I had to work hard to create them. But once they’ve become engrained in my life, following them is as easy as eating and breathing.
Want to see more? You can watch Buettner’s talk at a TEDxTC conference on September 2009 about his study of Blue Zones. It’s a fascinating talk.
Now go live long and prosper. And talk a walk around the block while you’re at it.
Being a work-from-home entrepreneur sometimes means, well, working from home. Most of the time, I prefer to go out and work in a café, bookstore, or even library. Having people around me, even if I’m not interacting with them, feeds me. It energizes me and keeps me motivated.
However, I’m not always able to go out. Especially when it’s raining out or I’m trying to save cash. In those cases, I work from home, which sounds great, doesn’t it? If you’re sitting in an office after a sixty-minute commute through back-to-back traffic, I’m sure it does.
There is a dark downside though. Daytime television.
Just to set the record straight, I don’t regularly watch TV. When I was single, I didn’t even own a television set. Everything I watched was on-demand from DVDs, Hulu or elsewhere.
And admittedly, I’ve gotten addicted to a handful of shows, like Lost and Family Guy. But I skip the majority of shows on TV. Yup, I get all of my modern culture awareness from Lost and Family Guy. Explains a lot, doesn’t it?
So it is with great trepidation that I turn on the TV every day. No, I’m not turning it on for myself. I’m turning it on for my dog.
That’s right, my dog.
I have a fearful little pup that is prone to barking at outside noise. Or at least, the noise he can hear.
When the television is on, Jerry Springer blocks out the scary neighbors outside with scary neighbors inside. The screeching of cats outside is replaced by the screeching of The View inside. The rumbling trucks in the street are covered by the rumbling shmucks in The Bold and the Beautiful.
My dog doesn’t watch the TV himself. Even when there are dogs on TV, he’ll just do his own thing, like play with the Kong or lie at my feet.
Without the TV, however, he’ll stand by the window on alert. With ears perked, he’ll sniff the air and bark at impending intruders. “Danger close, danger close!” he shouts.
What does this mean for me? It means my eye will wander to the television from time to time. I’ll catch a glimpse of a pregnant woman DNA testing ten guys to find out who is her baby daddy. Or a stately old man discovering that his wife’s young lover is really his cousin’s twin brother who’s been lost at sea for years.
Then I’ll shake my head, sigh, and long for a cafe. Daytime television really sucks.
P.S. Fortunately, there is a feasible alternative. Music also shutters outside noise. Though perhaps my band choices – like Slipknot, Slayer, and Five Finger Death Punch – aren’t the best choices to calm a nervous dog.
First, dead bodies. Then, the human soul. Most recently, sex.
Those are the topics on which American author and columnist Mary Roach has written. Hilariously so, I should add. I wonder what she’ll write about next.
She began her career as a freelance writer while working a “half-time” (as her bio states; I wonder if that means “part-time?”) public relations gig at the San Francisco Zoological Society. This included writing press releases addressing peculiar issues such as elephant wart removal surgery and cheetah-sucking fleas. Now what writer wouldn’t want that kind of experience?
This paved the way for her research-driven style, though she admits, “I don’t have a science degree and must fake my way through interviews with experts I can’t understand.” Awesome.
A skeptical, evidence-driven journalist at heart, she researches her topics thoroughly, to the point of tracking down and contacting the authors of the scientific studies she reads. Sometimes, if possible, she’ll attempt to be a subject in these studies herself, so she can write about the experience first-hand.
Roach’s approach distills complex topics with a healthy dose of skepticism and a hearty dollop of humor. I caught myself laughing out loud a few times while reading her books. Few books do that to me.
Few also make me queasy enough to lose my appetite, as her book on cadavers did. I think I lost a few pounds while reading Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers
. Call me a wuss, but visualizing the liquefication of human organs from a rotting corpse into the ground, such that the resulting dirt turns to putrid mud, has a way of making my mashed potatoes and gravy less appetizing.
Just to share the horrific hilarity, let me quote a few passages. Here’s one from Stiff:
Bloat is most noticeable in the abdomen, [adjunct research professor of forensic anthropology at University of Tennessee] Arpad [Vass] is saying, where the largest numbers of bacteria are, but it happens in other bacterial hot spots, most notably the mouth and genitalia. “In the male, the penis and especially the testicles can become very large.”
“Like how large?” (Forgive me.)
“I don’t know. Large.”
“Softball large? Watermelon large?”
“Okay, softball.” Arpad Vass is a man with infinite reserves of patience, but we are scraping the bottom of the tank.
Now here’s one from Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife
. It would seem that Roach has a fascination for death. While Stiff covers what happens to the body upon death, Spook covers the mind/soul/consciousness.
Theorists like [Duke University School of Medicine professor Gerry] Nahum think of the consciousness as information content. And information, to a quantum physicist anyway, has an accepted energy equivalent. And thus a (very very very light) weight. “The change in the heat that has to be liberated per bit of information lost is about three times ten to the minus-twenty-one joules,” Nahum says.
I must have made some sort of face. “I’m making this as simple as I can,” Nahum says. When you’re as brainy as Gerry Nahum is, you lose sight of just how ignorant the rest of us are. Earlier on in our talk, he prefaced the line, “Quite a few people look at microtubules as what can be considered almost like an abacus for molecular calculation at a subcellular level” with the phrase “As I’m sure you’re aware.”
Here’s an excerpt from her latest book, Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex
, which is about the history of the scientific study of sex, as I’m sure you’re aware.
The human vagina is accustomed to visitors. Even the language of anatomy imbues the organ with an innlike hospitality, the entrance to the structure being named the “vaginal vestibule.” Take off your coat and stay awhile. Gynecologist Robert Latou Dickinson, circa 1910, documented its wondrously accommodating nature, using his fingers as a measuring tool. The volume of the virgin vagina is “one finger”; the married woman rates “two full fingers.” Once babies start coming, it’s “three fingers” and up, all the way to Subject No. 163, whose vestibule (and parlor) appear in a pen-and-ink rendering in Dickinson’s Atlas of Human Sex Anatomy with the doctor’s entire hand submerged.
Scientific, yet hilarious. No doubt, readers yearning for more substantial fare will be turned off by Roach’s light-hearted tone, but that’s why I love it. Her books are learning made fun.
So what will she write about next?
First, she wrote about death and the body. Then she followed it up with death and the mind/soul/consciousness, which seemed the perfect sequel. It was as if some of her notes from Stiff begged for further examination. When she did, Spook was born.
With Bonk, she changed direction. After such macabre topics, I don’t blame her. I can imagine her husband saying, “You’ve changed, Mary. Your libido has totally gone kaput since all that research about the dead.” So to spice things up, she decided to research sex. ‘Tis only fair.
Here’s what I think her next book might be about:
- The science of love
- Her fourth book could continue with the sex theme and cover what sometimes comes first: the science of love and romance. A lot of chemical reactions and hormones course through your mind when in the throes of love. Dr. Helen Fisher, an anthropologist at Rutgers University, has even made a name for herself by doing a lot of research in this field.
- The science of relationships
- Another angle could be the study of human relationships. How and why did we evolve to be social beings? How and why did the US phenomenon of the nuclear family arise, and is it good for us?
- The science of child-rearing
- I’m guessing there have been studies to determine the most effective parenting techniques. For my parents, it was with swift physical discipline. Nowadays, it is less so. Is that good, bad, or just different?
- The science of eating
- She could also cover another bodily function: consuming food. It could include research on nutrition, chemically-engineered produce, farm-raised livestock, processed foods, fast food, junk food, and all that lovely stuff. The topic has been done many times over though, so she might need a new angle.
- The history of food
- Sort of related to the previous point, but a little different. I would love to know who first looked at a cow’s udder and said, “I’m going to drink whatever comes out of that.” How did we come to eat the foods we do? Should we really be vegetarians? Why do I enjoy hot dogs so much, even when I know they are made of lips and assholes?
- The history of obesity
- I once heard that the rise of obesity in the US coincided with the introduction of artificial sweeteners and, possibly, soda and fast food. I’m not sure if that’s entirely true, but it would be interesting to hear her take on this.
- The science of alcohol
- In keeping with Roach’s theme of human-related topics, this could cover how alcohol came about. How was it discovered? How did every civilization come up with some form of alcoholic beverage? Are we just beings that innately crave being buzzed? And what’s the evolutionary reason why Asians turn red when drinking it?
- The science of drugs
- Similar to the previous one, but, you know, about drugs. Or both topics could be covered in one book.
- The science of human waste removal
- After all these topics on what we consume, how about what we void? Human waste removal has come a long way. From throwing it out your window to aqueducts to automated sewage systems to electronic heated toilets in Japan. Fascinating stuff here.
- The science of evolution
- I don’t mean starting from fish to reptiles to mammals to hairless apes. But it would be interesting to hear about the latest findings and research history on how scientists concluded that early humans came from Africa and settled throughout the rest of the world. Even the rise of racial differences could be interesting. Or the theory that humans evolved from aquatic apes.
I’m sure if I sat here, I could think of many more. Roach, I’m sure, has a long list already. Or maybe she needs an idea, in which case, I’d like to humbly make these suggestions. All I ask is an autographed copy of the book. Hehe.
Whatever the case, I’m eager for her next book. I will definitely buy it, as I’m sure you’re aware.
Drum roll please. Here are ten New Year’s resolutions you, being a sane adult of above-average intelligence, never thought of. Which is a good thing.
- Adopt a new vice – Why all the bull about trying to stop a vice, like smoking or junk food? Everyone knows you’re not going to do it. Instead, go out and get a new vice. Start snorting Kool-Aid or hijacking school buses full of penguins.
- Eat as many weird meats as you can – You can define weird any way you like. Frogs, turtles, snakes, lizards, worms. Nah, those aren’t weird enough. Chicken embryos, fish excrement, maggots, and testicles of just about any animal. That’s more like it.
- Read every street sign you see out loud – Whether you’re walking down the street by yourself or on a crowded bus, read those street sounds loud and proud. Articulate each and every one. Some may thank you for the reminder, others will punch you in the face.
- Fart downwind – Not as easy as it sounds, especially in a building with no wind. To rectify that situation, keep a handheld fan on your person at all times. Every time you fart, fan it downwind. Fart, fan, fart, fan, fart fan, just like that.
- Set the World Record for Most Times Abducted by Aliens – Might be tough to carry this one out. Unless you start carving mountains out of your mashed potatoes or invent warp drive technology or [insert your favorite sci-fi/alien reference here].
- Learn to play the accordion – Weird Al Yankovic played one, so why can’t you? The key is to practice, practice, practice. Especially late at night, when you can’t sleep because all the weird meats you’re eating are causing massive downwind farts.
- End all discussions with “To be continued…” – Leave everyone hanging. Extra points if you can end on a cliffhanger or an especially important point.
- Spit generously – Nothing says “manly” like lodging a good, healthy loogie from the gullet and landing with a satisfying blop. And chicks totally dig it.
- Start ending sentences with a preposition – You know you want to. This includes blog posts, of course. Ending with prepositions is where it’s at.
- Suck less on a daily average – Since the opposite of suck is blow, then to carry out this resolution, you can thusly and simply, blow more.
And no, I am not resolving to do any of these. If you would like to, then, please stand upwind of me.
With an easy schedule, I can read about a book a week. I haven’t had an easy schedule in a while unfortunately, but I can still complete a book relatively quickly.
This is because I speed read. Now, I’m no lightning-fast reader. I won’t be winning any speed reading competitions anytime soon. But I’m guessing a book a week is faster than the average reader.
Interested in speed reading too? Speed reading is a “collection of reading methods which attempt to increase rates of reading without greatly reducing comprehension or retention,” according to Wikipedia (and if Wikipedia says it, it must be true, ha ha). There are many speed reading methods out there, such as minimizing distractions, skimming, meta guiding, subvocalization removal, and schematic processing. Let’s go over each one.
- Minimizing Distractions
- It is easier to comprehend a piece of information if there are few or no distractions around. If you’re at home, turn off the TV, laptop or radio. If you’re commuting to work on a noisy bus or train, try noise cancellation earphones with easy-going music.
- Skimming
- This involves scanning a paragraph to get the gist of its meaning. Many authors use filler words and sentences that don’t add to the message. Even words like “a,” “and,” and “the” can be skipped. In other words, don’t read and think about each & every word — glance through the text to pick up just the relevant words. If you get good at this, you can even read by common phrases instead of individual words. This is my preferred method.
There is a technique similar to skimming called the Z method where you read one line, diagonally sweep across the second line backwards to the beginning of the third line, then read the third line. This doesn’t work for me though.
- Meta Guiding
- Some people find it helpful to use some kind of visual guide, like a finger or pen, to follow the passage of text. By moving the pointer under the sentence you are reading at a brisk pace, you aid your eye in skimming the sentence. I do this when there are distractions I can’t minimize, though I do it more for comprehension and not for speed — meaning I move my finger slowly under the text.
- Subvocalization Removal
- If you sound out each word in your head as you read, you are subvocalizing. Doing this can slow down your pace. There are techniques to remove this habit, such as chanting a repetitive phrase like “A-E-I-O-U” or counting “1, 2, 3, 4″ over & over again as you read. I don’t do this either, though I sometimes subvocalize key words as I’m skimming. Perhaps slows me down, though it doesn’t bother me.
- Schematic Processing
- This method involves training your mind to read familiar words and concepts more efficiently, while employing specialized study skills for unfamiliar material. I don’t know much about this method, except that it’s based on the work of Malcolm Knowles and his theory of andragogy.
The drawbacks of speed reading are comprehension and lack of sentence appreciation. Comprehension is probably the main detriment for most people. Being an aspiring author, I appreciate a well-constructed sentence. Whenever I’m reading a great author, I will purposefully slow down so I can take in each sentence. However, I have to consciously do this; otherwise I will automatically speed-read my way through the book.
To combat loss of comprehension, I sometimes pause after an important paragraph or chapter and think about it critically. I will visualize the author’s message and find ways to relate it to my life and experiences. Sometimes I’ll conjure up other examples to support the author’s thesis. Other times, I’ll discover conflicts and holes in the author’s argument. In either case, this act of critical thinking significantly aids my comprehension of the material.
So that’s my formula for speed reading and comprehension: minimizing distractions, skimming, and thinking critically about what I am reading.
Do you speed read? If so, how do you do it?
“There is just one moon and one golden sun,
And a smile means friendship to everyone.
Though the mountains divide,
And the oceans are wide.
It’s a small, small world”
- R. Sherman
Everyone should travel to another country at least once in their lives. More, if they’re lucky.
I know that many cannot realistically do this. Financial reasons, family obligations, schedule restrictions, health considerations. For some, these limitations are insurmountable.
For those where such limitations don’t exist: travel. Go visit another country. Learn enough of their language to say, “hello,” “good bye,” “thank you,” “excuse me,” “check please,” and “where is the bathroom?” Read about their customs, traditions, and beliefs. Strive to understand them, even for a little.
To be fair, simply flying to another country and visiting their main tourist attractions isn’t enough. But for many, it is perhaps better than nothing. For a while, you are enveloped in another world. Even that taste can help.
For a true learning experience, you have to talk to the locals. Walk off the beaten path. Eat something different. Observe the general populace. Behave as they do, within bounds. And above all, be respectful of their culture.
The benefit of traveling is the opening of your mind. You learn how another whole society lives, day in and day out. It helps you to understand, if even just for a little while, how a fellow human being lives. The world shrinks, if even just for a little bit. Prejudices shrivel. Preconceptions wither. Generalizations splinter.
The more you travel, the more your mind opens, and the more the world shrinks.
I remember a time when taking the train out of my home town was scary. My little suburban town was all I knew. Taking the train into the city was a huge event. It meant going someplace far, foreign, even frightening.
But once I did it, the city became part of my world. What I knew expanded while the world shrunk. No longer was it someplace far and foreign. It was just another place to go.
I remember a time when taking the plane from the East Coast to the West Coast was disconcerting. My coast was all I knew. The other coast was practically a foreign country with a different temperament, disposition, and even attitude.
Then I moved there. Both coasts became my world. Temperaments, dispositions, and attitudes were more similar than I thought. The world shrunk a little more.
I remember a time when another country was totally alien. My country was all I knew. Other countries weren’t just foreign; they were so different that it was easy to generalize their populations as charactertures of their cultures.
Then I visited one country. And another. And another. The diversity of the people in each was just as diverse as a New Yorker is from a Texan and an Alaskan and a Californian and a Hawaiian. There are more similarities than there are differences. The world shrunk even more.
Every country has its poor and homeless, its rich and aristocracy, its kind-hearted and selfless, its fools and racists, its leaders and managers, its good parents and bad parents, and its bad drivers.
Cultures and traditions may differ. Foods and languages may differ. Religions and skin color may differ. But everyone feels happy, feels sad, and gets pissed off like everyone else. While there may be cultural differences that underlie a group of people, exceptions abound.
Prejudice may have an evolutionary benefit, but it can also be harmful to you and other people. It can close your mind to opportunities. Traveling the world shatters many of those misconceptions. Or at least, it makes you think twice before categorizing someone or some idea.
So go out and travel the world. Watch it shrink. Experience and understand another culture. Eat different foods, speak foreign languages, and talk to someone new. Do that, and the world is yours.
We met at a wedding. I know. It’s a cliché to meet someone at a wedding. Some even crash weddings to pick up those someones.
Not us though. Meeting a guy was, at best, on the periphery of her radar, if it was even on the screen. The bride told me there would be hardly any single girls there. So I turned my focus to enjoying Hawaii since it was my first time there.
My table at the wedding reception was the loud, drunk table. You know that table. Every wedding has one. Its guests are a raucous, rowdy bunch, roaring with alcohol. Elderly family members look over in disgust. Yup, that was us.
After a round or two of tequila shots, we crowded the bar for one more. We were all friends of the bride, so she joined us too. “How many should I get?” I asked.
A friend glanced around the group. “About seven, I think.”
I turned to the bartender and ordered seven tequila shots. As he handed me the shot glasses and I handed them over to my friends. However, there were only six of us. I was left with two shots in my hands.
That’s when I turned around and saw her. A cute smile and pretty freckles in an adorable black & white dress. And without a drink in her hands.
“Want to do a shot with us?” I asked her. I didn’t want the extra shot to go to waste. It was the polite thing to do. Plus, she was cute. “We’re doing a shot with the bride.”
“Sure,” she smiled and took the glass. I smiled back.
“To the bride!” someone shouted. We all raised our glasses and poured the burning tequila down our throats. Like liquid lava down our gullets, searing down our chests. I stifled a cough.
“Thanks,” she said as I took her empty glass.
“I’m Mike, by the way,” I told her.
“I’m Mia.”
I smiled. She smiled. And that’s how we first met.
Ah, the good ole’ college days. Back then, I was deeply involved in a student-run community service organization called Asian Initiative. I was so involved that I was an officer during my junior and senior years.
Based in New York University, it was started as an effort to encourage volunteers to sign up as bone marrow donors. There was a shortage of donors of Asian descent. A few NYU students saw this shortage and took the initiative to start this organization.
A few years later, I joined as a member. By then, they had expanded their reach to include a nursing home program and an after-school mentor program.
The nursing home program allowed volunteers to go to a nearby nursing home that had a sizable Chinese American population. Some of the elderly residents rarely had family visits. They delighted in seeing children perhaps their grandchildrens’ age coming to see them.
We’d talk to them (those of us that spoke Chinese, at least), play chess with them, and host wonton-making dinners during Chinese festivals. Many were wheelchair bound and couldn’t partake in the wonton making, but they loved eating them for sure.
The after-school mentor program was down in Chinatown. We partnered with a grade school teacher who hosted a classroom of latchkey children. Latchkey children are children whose parents work late into the evening, leaving the children home alone. So instead of having them return home unsupervised, this program allowed them to stay at school and play games or get help with their homework.
Over time, this program became so popular with the students that some who weren’t latchkey children attended as well. We usually tried to mentor these children and help with their homework, though the majority, not surprisingly, preferred to play.
Aside from these main staples were a handful of fundraising events, most commonly bake sales. Our members would take the time to bake cupcakes and cookies to be sold to NYU students. The funds raised would go to buying wonton supplies, treats for the grade school children, or food for social events.
There was also a yearly carnival called Hunger Clean-Up to benefit the homeless that, for some unfathomable reason, always fell to our club to organize. We never really minded, though the reach was meant to be wider than just our niche of the Asian American community. It was meant to benefit the homeless of New York City.
Despite the emphasis on the Chinese American community, out of all our programs, the mentor program was the most popular. There was always a lively crowd waiting outside our designated meeting point to walk down to Chinatown. The nursing home program, sadly, wasn’t as popular. Sometimes we had to work hard to encourage volunteers to go. And usually, it was just a handful of the officers who would attend.
After spending my sophomore year with this organization, I bonded with its officers and became one of the more active members. In my junior year, I decided to run for the public relations position. If I remember correctly, I had one opponent. I won only because I was taking graphic design classes and made prettier flyers, I think. Whoever else was running was otherwise just as qualified, if not more so.
Right away, I found myself falling in love with the organization. That’s always been a trend in my life. When I’m part of a group whose mission resonates with me, I care for them deeply and work hard to make them a success.
I rallied a bunch of my non-member friends to join. I networked like crazy and reached out to other clubs. I put in a lot of time creating what I felt were snazzy and attractive flyers to entice others to join. I think I might have attended almost every event too, despite a crazy academic schedule and an on-campus part-time job.
When senior year came, the other officers encouraged me to run for president. So I did it without competition. That’s not as big an accomplishment as it sounds. A student organization president is a role with a lot of responsibilities and a high time commitment. The nature of our club attracted a lot of pre-med students trying to fill their volunteer obligations. Time wasn’t something they had in abundance. Relative to them, I had more time and thus, appeared a feasible choice for the presidency.
This experience became one of my most transformative. It taught me to be a true leader. I made just about every mistake in the book too. I tried doing everything myself. I became irritated by others who didn’t show as much passion as I had. I micromanaged others into what must have been utter frustration.
Thankfully, I had an understanding group of officers, an open mind, and, if I may say so myself, a fair bit of self-awareness. I tried to see my follies and changed as quickly as I could. Basic leadership tenants like delegation, motivation, and team building were all important lessons I had to learn.
The grand mistakes I’ve made, as well as the successes of the organization, are perhaps one of my most important lessons from college. At the time, they seemed horrifying and chaotic. I look back now in pure fondness though.
Some look back at their college days and see kegs and bongs and parties. I see Asian Initiative, the organization that I loved and truly made my college experience. Now those were the good ole’ days.
It’s tough to fail, huh? It sucks knowing you’ve put your heart & soul into something, only to see it crumble to nothing.
The heaviness in your stomach, the stinging in your brain, the itch you can’t quite scratch. They’re all physical reminders of the horrible failure. The time wasted. The regret that you’ll never see what you were doing come to fruition.
Yup, it sucks ass.
But you know what? I don’t mind. I don’t mind failing. In fact, I quite look forward to it.
I look forward to it because it’s a chance to learn and grow. To evolve and better myself. Making a mistake means I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone and took a risk. One can’t grow if one doesn’t do that.
I’ve always been the kind of person who seeks to improve myself. One of the ways to do so is to go beyond my comfort zone.
In a previous dot-com for which I worked, we often set stretch goals. These were goals that were a bit beyond our reach. Beyond our comfort zones. Each time we satisfied one of those goals, we knew we had achieved something significant. It was a great application of basic psychology. Too bad that dot-com dot-bombed. Maybe the executive team’s stretch goal should have been, “Build a company that won’t bomb.” Ha! I kid, I kid.
My colleagues have all gone on to successful careers. They all learned from their stretch goals and from that company’s failure.
That’s the key with being comfortable with failure. Learning from previous mistakes. Accepting the negative feelings of failure and reframing the experience as a learning opportunity.
Experience is a harsh, yet effective teacher. She will beat you over and over again until you learn. If you don’t, the beatings will go on. Her motto is: “The beatings will continue until wisdom improves.”
So you see, each time I fail, it’s been because I pushed myself outside of my comfort zone in an attempt to better myself. And when I fail, it’s really a success. It means I’ve learned a lesson. The sting of each failure will remain with me forever, stronger than the insight of success will.
What happened to my patience? I used to be a really patient guy. Especially when a friend had a problem and needed a consoling ear.
I’m still patient with most things, I’ll humbly admit. Waiting in a long line at the airport? No problem. Slow cashier at the supermarket? Take your time. The dentist is behind schedule with lots of patients? That’s fine, I’ve got plenty of patience for your patients.
Have a laundry list of complaints you need to vent? Okay. Want to vent and re-vent that same list tomorrow too? Um, sure. Need to repeat the same vents all month long? OMG I’m gonna punch you in the throat.
Well, no, I’m not really. But I can’t sit still and listen like I used to anymore.
In my twenties, I used to have what I called a Jesus Syndrome. I used to believe I could and should save everyone. If anyone, friend or stranger, had a problem, I would be willing to listen and do what I could to help out.
Sometimes it meant just listening. Other times it meant offering gentle advice to nudge them in the right direction (leading a horse to water and all that). And other times, it meant driving over to their house and helping them hide the bodies.
To some friends, I was a big brother. To others, I was almost a father figure. I didn’t mind either. Personality tests have indicated that I have the temperament of a teacher or therapist, and the informal roles I’ve taken have certainly been in that vain.
But then, around my thirties, something changed. My patience levels dropped. Or perhaps it’s my tolerance levels. Whichever it was, I can no longer summon the energy I once had to sit down and listen to someone vent endlessly. It’s draining, as opposed to — if you can believe it — energizing, as it once was.
I attribute it to my mind being an empathic sponge. After having a particularly depressing conversation, I feel depressed. After a particularly angry conversation, I’m angry. And so on.
After a while, it’s worn me down. It’s enough to wear anyone down.
By nature, I’m a positive guy. I see most problems as fun challenges and opportunities. It can take quite a bit to wear me down. About thirty years worth, apparently.
I feel terrible about this. Losing patience and tolerance is frustrating. If I could wring out my empathy sponge and start anew, I would. Then I’d be able to console those that need frequent consoling again.
Or maybe it’s better this way. Maybe those that need frequent consoling can’t be saved by me. The Jesus Syndrome isn’t a healthy syndrome after all. Why should I want to perpetuate it? When I have a family, they will be the ones on which I want to lavish my energy and attention. Close friends too. But not any ole’ person. Maybe this evolution of patience and tolerance is a natural and necessary step.
Meanwhile, those that need frequent consoling would perhaps be best served by professional help. A professionally trained therapist, counselor, or psychologist.
Or, a punch in the throat.
Nah, just kidding. Go for the professional help.
