Author: Kenneth Vogt

  • Are You Stressed, Rushed, and Aggravated?

    Are You Stressed, Rushed, and Aggravated?

    Walking Through Airport

    “Meaning is not what you start with but what you end up with.” ~Peter Elbow

    As a boy, I had a romantic notion about having a job where I traveled for business. It sounded so important and stylish. I liked the idea of dashing through airports to my next big meeting.

    I thought it meant that mine would be a wider world. And so it was.

    Be Careful What You Wish For

    As often happens, what you think about comes into being. I found myself on my very first “business trip.” I was going to the exotic location of Moline, Illinois.

    In my fantasies I was thinking more along the lines of NYC or London, but hey, it involved an airplane. Actually, it wasn’t even a jet; it was this very loud, somewhat cramped prop plane.

    So a couple hours later, after flying at a surprisingly low altitude and slow rate of speed, I had traveled from a semi-rural location with corn and cows to…another semi-rural location with corn and cows. It seems my dreams of importance and style were still in my future.

    Dashing Didn’t Turn Out To Be So Dashing

    My life and work continued down this same path, so occasionally schedules were tight. Once, I remember literally running through an airport so as not to miss a flight.

    It looks good in the television commercials but let me tell you, running in a suit and tie, toting a briefcase and an overnight bag isn’t so sexy. It’s more sweaty and disheveling. I must confess, I felt less than debonair.

    The Illusion of the “Good Seat”

    Every flight (and there were many), I vied for a good seat with the rest of my fellow business travelers. I gloated over my exit row seat or my aisle seat. I glared enviously at the first class passengers, already seated with their complimentary mimosas.

    When it came time to disembark, I leaped to my feet the moment the “Remain Seated” sign went out. I mean, you’re supposed to. At least you must be, because that’s what everyone else was doing.

    I told myself it was important that I leave the plane immediately. After all, I had pressing business. That’s why I’m flying.

    And Then I Woke Up

    This dream of being a business traveler turned out to be not so dreamy after all. Traveling is a hassle with the hotels and cabs and parking garages and strange cities and expense reports. Airplane seats are tight and fellow travelers are sometimes surly.

    This isn’t what I signed up for. I started to wonder about the ground rules I had assumed regarding flying for a living.

    Questioning the Unstated

    What is a good seat? I’ll tell you. There’s only one on the plane: it’s the one the pilot sits in.

    The rest of us, no matter where we sit, are getting basically the same experience. Once I accepted that, I have never had a bad seat.

    What’s the rush to get off the plane? When I wait until everyone else has cleared out around me, it is far easier to collect my things. I don’t hack anyone else off by getting in their way to rush off the plane either.

    I generally go for the window seat now, not because I prefer it particularly. It just means I am not in any hurried person’s way when it comes time to deplane.

    This leisurely attitude means I spend perhaps 10 more minutes aboard if I am seated near the front. If I am seated near the back, it costs me virtually no time at all. And I still get to the baggage claim area before my bags.

    I get to airports early. I check in and kick back. Did you know they put bars in airports? I find this highly convenient for this back kicking.

    I pack light. I generally travel to places that sell just about anything I regularly use. I have found that even developing countries have food and toiletries for sale.

    Sharing My New Found Travel Ease

    Once I found myself on an overbooked flight. Five people were in front of me in line trying to get boarding passes. As each one of them in turn berated the gate agent, all she could do was apologize and say she couldn’t give them a boarding pass at this time.

    When it was my turn, I saw her steel herself for the next verbal assault. But I figured something out as I stood in line: berating the poor lass wasn’t resulting in a boarding pass for anyone.

    So I just said, “Tough day, huh? Listen, if you can get me on this flight I would really appreciate it. Just do the best you can.”

    Five minutes before they closed the jet way doors, she called one name to give out a single boarding pass—mine.

    I wanted to throw a fit as much as the next guy as I stood in line. But what would be the point of ranting at the last person who could help me who, incidentally, was not responsible for causing my problem?

    I didn’t see one glimmer of recognition out there amongst those envious faces of the grounded either. They all had the same chance as me and they had it first. We make our own reality. Own it, or don’t.

    The Traveler, Well Seasoned

    The bottom line is this: air travel, or anything else, is what you make it. I got to live my illusions until I decided they no longer served me.

    I have a far different experience now, even though the external details remain basically the same. I have no stress and I get where I want to go when and if I have a notion to go anywhere at all.

    I am a fan of destinations, but the journey happens too. While I may not have always taken the road less traveled, these days I always choose the travel encounter less experienced.

    Photo by plantronicsgermany

  • Two Lies We Learn as Kids That Keep Us Stuck and Unhappy

    Two Lies We Learn as Kids That Keep Us Stuck and Unhappy

    “You can only grow if you’re willing to feel awkward and uncomfortable when you try something new.” ~Brian Tracy

    With apologies to everyone who is from somewhere else or lived before 1776, we Americans want everyone to believe that we live in the greatest country in the history of humanity and that makes us the greatest humans beings ever.

    We even have data to back up our bravado: our GDP, the quantity of our millionaires and even billionaires, and our weapons power. We have more movie stars, more rock stars, and more celebrities who are celebrated for being celebrities than anybody. That’s right, by anything we choose to pay attention to, we’re the greatest.

    America certainly seems to be the land of achievement. So how did I get to be so lazy? It seems I have had an attraction to “low hanging fruit.”

    I am intrigued by solutions that come in the form of a pill. I want growth without the necessity of change. In short, I am a typical American.

    The fact is I am a product of my environment. I have spent my life being inundated by marketing messages telling me “you deserve it,” “do it the easy way,” and “lose weight while you sleep.”

    There seem to be such an abundance of easy solutions. Why on earth would I ever consider doing anything hard or time consuming?

    I had to turn lazy. I wasn’t born that way. Like everyone else, I came into this world with nothing but possibility. I had no notion of limitation. “Work” wasn’t a dirty word. In fact, I worked at everything with joy.

    Do you know I learned how to both walk and talk with no schooling whatsoever? True, Mom and Dad were encouraging. But I have a sneaking suspicion I would have figured it out anyway. I really wanted it.

    America, the Land of the Free

    As I got older, I formed a really bad habit: I began comparing myself to others. Were my grades as good as other kids my age or my siblings? Could I run as fast? Did I have as many friends? I developed an aching need for these things. I wanted this stuff and if I could get it on the cheap, so much the better. In fact, free was better yet.

    My world offered a lot of “free.” At least, they said it was free. But it wasn’t really. There was always an unspecified cost. I just started accumulating the debt of it.

    Since everyone else seemed to be amassing that same debt too it all felt normal. Normal was proclaimed by gifted marketers and copywriters as highly desirable. Who was I to argue?

    Being cool just came with drinking the right beer. Being refined came with wearing the right clothes. Being successful came with driving the right car. Never mind that I wasn’t even sure I liked beer. Fashion is such a moving target I secretly felt I would never grasp it. And cars, they just got more and more expensive.

    When did free become so hard and time consuming?

    Too Fast for My Own Good

    So I graduated from free to fast. Okay, I am now willing to pony up the bucks so long as it’s lickety-split. If a Porsche makes me instantly debonair, I’ll fork over the dough. Bring on the shortcuts!

    Years and years of this kind of reasoning saw millions of dollars run through my hands. But all of this stuff was consumable. It went away, washed down the drain, and wore out. Sure, I had fun. But what did I have to show for it?

    I will not discount the thrilling experiences, fond memories, and good times. But there was no permanence in this life of quick fixes.

    After many lessons (more than I care to admit) and much pondering, I started to turn the battleship that is my mind. Maybe counting the cost is a good idea. Maybe the purposeful expenditure of time is worthwhile. Those were the new theories anyway. So I determined to test them out.

    Something for Something and The Slow Fix

    What I discovered was that a mindful use of my time and resources created a new and bigger world. I built useful foundations that can take a beating and still stick around. I found that selfishness had too high of a price tag on it and that indolence just wasn’t worth it.

    These days I focus on abundance. The fact that there is a price for things makes them valuable. The requirement of time makes them precious. Abundance springs from a mindful investment in value.

    It is no longer about give and take; it is about giving and receiving. Taking requires no willing giver. In fact, it usually prods unwilling givers. But receiving requires cooperation, collaboration, and acceptance. It also draws these things. True giving cannot exist without true receiving and vice versa. It’s a package deal.

    All the money that washed over me and away is gone, but it wasn’t meant to stick. The money I encounter these days has a new adhesive quality unknown to me when I didn’t truly value it.

    I am older now. Arguably, I have less time left. But I don’t mind expending my shortening time for worthwhile things. After all, that is what time is built for.

    It turns out I can’t afford the phony promises of something for nothing and I don’t have time for quick fixes. From here on out it’s slow food, quality over discounts, and nothing free with strings attached. I am starting to suspect that this was the American Dream all along.

    Photo by Luz Adriana Villa A

  • When Efficiency Isn’t Efficient: The Shortest Path Isn’t Always Best

    When Efficiency Isn’t Efficient: The Shortest Path Isn’t Always Best

    Taking time to think

    “There is more to life than increasing its speed.” ~Mahatma Gandhi

    “The shortest path between two points is a straight line.” That comes straight out of my eighth grade geometry textbook and if you can’t trust math, what can you trust?

    That pronouncement rang my chime. It put words to an unspoken feeling I had had for a long time. What could be better, truer, or more perfect than the shortest path?

    Kids Do the Darnedest Things

    As a teenager, I started putting in place “straight lines” in my life everywhere I could impose them. I got out of bed at the exact moment that would allow me to get cleaned up, dressed, fed, and off to class in the least amount of time necessary. It annoyed me to be even a few minutes early and terrified me to be late.

    I scheduled every moment of every day. I couldn’t stand an unplanned minute; I had to predetermine it all in advance.

    Now you might be thinking that I must have been one of those overly serious, driven, humorless kids. Not so. I partied with the best of them. But even that partying was all on schedule.

    I started going to college when I was just sixteen years old and still in high school. I had college in the morning and high school in the afternoon. No problem, I had it all mapped out.

    Of course that was just school. I worked too. I had a job after school part-time as a computer programmer. After that, I worked at a McDonald’s, closing five nights a week.

    Then I went out with my friends, then I came home and studied, then I slept for three or four hours. And then I did it all over again the next day.

    You probably see where this is headed. I thought I was being efficient and mature. After all, I worked hard and studied hard. I was reliable and diligent. I was the life of the party and seemed to have boundless energy.

    But one day, I just couldn’t muster the will go to work after school. I asked my mom to call in sick for me and I went to bed at 3:00 in the afternoon. I woke up 26 hours later, the next day at 5:00 in the afternoon. (more…)