The MacGyver Approach

Know what? I really don’t like stress. It makes me sick. Literally. So, I am doing my best to eliminate every ounce of stress from my life.

A great definition of stress is feeling like you lack the tools required to do that which is asked of you. Think about that. I lack the tool of time, so I’m stressed on the commute to work. I lack the tool of money, so I’m stressed about sending my kid to college. I lack the tool of expert knowledge on a specific subject, so I’m stressed about being seen as a dope.

So, if it’s stressful for me to think that I lack the right tools, then the opposite, unstressful thought is: I have everything, or can get anything, I need to get this job done. I am always doing my best.

Yes, I am freakin’ MacGyver.

MacGyver was the resourceful secret agent on the 80s TV show of the same name who could solve any problem with spit, a toilet paper roll, three paper clips and a shoelace. Great stuff. And he never lost his cool. Maybe he knew he could always pull out some kind of solution and foil the bad guys. Loved that.

Over time, I’ve realized that, like MacGyver, I always have some kind of tool I can use in some way in any given situation. Even if that tool is simply asking a question, like, “Can you help?” Yeah, I can do that.

After years of self-flagellation where I told myself how often I fell short, I’ve changed. Now I know that I am always doing my best with the tools I’ve got on hand, even if the outcome is less than, or different from, what I anticipated at the outset.

Mindbender, huh? Contrary to everything you’ve learned, right? How often have you heard (or said), “You could have done better.” Just writing that sentence makes me feel like someone is staring at me, hard, over a pair of intimidating spectacles. “You could have done better.” Sure reinforces the idea that I’m a loser.

Yet, I might have had zero support — no extra hands — to do what needed doing. We can dwell on what the outcome could have been if I’d had some help… but when I acknowledge that what happened was due to the resources at hand, I can see that I did my absolute best with what I was given. And if this points out that I need to learn to ask for help, I can focus there — and get the tool I need for the future.

I might not have enough money to execute in the “proper” way — today, many of us are having to adjust to tight budgets and limited funds — but when I carp and complain about what might have been if I’d had enough money, I neglect what’s really real. And what’s real is what I’ve been able to actually accomplish with the money that’s available.

And, when I’m honest, sometimes the tool I lack is the physical oomph to get done what needs doing. I could say to myself, “Well, if only I’d gotten a better night’s sleep,” or “if only I didn’t have cancer,” or “if only I lost 20 pounds,” I visualize a different outcome that the one that really happened. That’s when I step into fantasy land.

Because it’s an unreal, possibly impossible outcome I’d be imagining. The outcome that happened is what happened. Dwelling on anything else is dwelling in fantasy. And inviting stress to come along for the ride.

When I know that am always doing my best, I can accept that some days I produce more, differently or better than other days. That’s just the way it is. But every outcome is always the best possible outcome given the tools I have at hand.

When I know I am always doing my best, I can also figure you are likewise doing your best. And that gives me the freedom to not be stressed about it — my job just may be helping you find the tools you need to do it differently.

Shift your thinking on this one, dear readers, and not only will your stress level plummet, but you’ll find that what you do becomes better and easier. Why? Because you already know it’s going to be your best. And like MacGyver, you’ll be amazed at what can be accomplished with just the tools you have at hand.

I Am, I Said

It’s nice to have friends. It’s especially nice to have friends like Lauri and Anne — the kind of friends who drop by for tea and bring great ideas. Oh, and cookies. We cannot overlook the importance of cookies.

We sat the other day, sipping, munching thoughtfully, until Anne piped up with: “OK, so we were talking about something in the car on the way over and wanted to hear what you think.”

I was actually thinking that the cookies were really good. But I’m often able to stretch my brain just a bit. “Uhmrrgh,” I responded, through cookie crumbles, which means, “Bring it on.”

“Ever notice how often we say ‘I’m not’ and how infrequently we say ‘I am’?” Anne asked.

I was struck speechless by the simplicity of Anne’s point.

Boy, we spend so much time thinking about what we’re not.

Coming from “I’m not” is coming from a lack, or a deficit. “I’m not” means not enough — not tall enough, not thin enough, not young enough, not rich enough, not smart enough, not anything enough.

“I’m not” keeps us in a continual state of stress, feeling like we haven’t/can’t/won’t get it all done. And we won’t. Because we’re not enough.

But if we could shift all those “I’m nots” to “I ams”… think of the difference. Owning your own strengths. Standing in your own power. Relying on what you’ve got, rather than what you haven’t.

“I am”… good at taking care of my aging parents. “I am” … a good mentor. “I am” … a good friend. “I am” … alive.

Recently I taught a teleclass to a group of students and heard myself saying, “I’m pretty good at networking.” And I caught myself, internally, doing a self-check: was I bragging? Didn’t Mama say, “Don’t get too big for your britches. You’re no better than anyone else?”

She sure did. But it didn’t feel like bragging. It felt like truth. And, guess what? It is.

Make a list of your “I ams”. Own your “I ams”. Treasure them. They’re your truths. They’re what makes you, you.

And every time you find yourself stuck in “I’m not”, turn it around and say a quick “I am”. Such as, “OK, I’m not a 25 year old supermodel with more money than sense and no responsibilities, but I am…“

Go ahead — fill in your own blank.

Doing Enough?

Raise your hand if you feel like you’re not doing enough.

Accomplishments? Nothing major. Rewards? Few. Performance? Not as good as it could be. What still needs to be done? Everything.

If this sounds familiar, then you probably were on the phone with me this week, or buttonholed me at that party Friday night.

It seems so many people look at themselves with utter disappointment. What they do doesn’t matter, and if it does matter then talking about it is bragging so… let’s not talk about it. No time to rest. No time to reflect. More stuff to do. Got to keep moving.

The problem with this mindset is pretty clear. Thinking this way ratchets your stress level up to 11 on a 10 point scale, and never allows you the satisfaction of a job well done. When there’s no satisfaction in what you’re doing, there’s no way to like what you’re doing.

A man has a performance review at work. His supervisor and peers consistently rate his work at 4s and 5s, on a 5 point scale. He, however, rates himself at a 1 or a 2 on all categories. He’s mystified at how his co-workers can rate him so high — he doesn’t believe them. Don’t they know he’s a failure? He could be doing so much more.

A woman feels she’s disappointing her husband because she’s not a gourmet cook, and her housekeeping skills are not so hot, especially with the baby in the picture and given her full-time job. She spends a lot of time apologizing. He says there’s nothing to apologize about — he loves the food she cooks and thinks she’s a wonderful mother. She doesn’t believe him. Doesn’t he know she’s a failure? She could be doing so much more.

Her husband feels he’s disappointing her because he’s not making as much money as her brother, and he’s not as good with a power tool as most men. She tells him she’s proud of his work and that power tools aren’t that important, that she loves him and he’s a good father. He doesn’t believe her. Doesn’t she know he’s a failure? He could be doing so much more.

So whaddya gonna do? Well, let me suggest two things.

First, ask yourself: What will success look like? Put yourself in the successful mindset. What’s your life like then? Make a list of all the elements that compose your successful life.

Now, look at your list. How realistic is it? How much is under your direct control? If success looks like taking time to write — you can do that. If success looks like everyone obeying your commands with no argument — you can’t do that, sadly, even if you became a dictator. Dictators often die horribly messy deaths in their attempts to squash the thoughts and behaviors of others — and who wants that?

Understand where your unrealistic definitions of success come from (”I want people to obey me because I hate arguments”) and, instead of banging your head against the wall, learn some techniques to disagree effectively. You can start with the book Crucial Conversations by Patterson, Grenny et al.

Second, take a few minutes to look at what you’ve really accomplished. At this time of year, I always sit down and write out 20 Things I Have Accomplished This Year. They can be ordinary things like: got the trash to the curb every week. Think that doesn’t matter? Hey, what’s the alternative? A huge pile of smelly trash spilling out all over your yard? Believe me, getting the trash to the curb matters! As does paying your bills on time, or getting a physical, or a colonoscopy, or training a new employee at the office. Getting through the budget process, or caring for an elderly parent, or making your kid’s school lunches — they all matter. And you’ve accomplished all of them.

But you haven’t cured cancer. Or won the Nobel Peace Prize (unless you’re Al Gore). OK. But your best friends and closest family would likely give you a prize for all you do for them. Am I right?

My guess is that you are probably doing enough. More than enough. Acknowledging that and giving yourself credit for it can help reduce your stress level. And, looking a hard look at your expectations of success laid next to your actual accomplishments can provide a roadmap for your future success. Your roadmap may show that you need to reallocate your time and attention — and spend more time creating meaningful success and less time wallowing in your perceived failure.