Tonight, those of us at CPH celebrated the retirement of a venerable member of our team. In his early 70s, this gentleman is happily moving into a new chapter of life; retiring without apology to sunny Southern California (near his grandchildren).
Watching him perform the final act of a long and successful career has been an interesting experience these past few weeks. And it's been pretty impossible (if you are a person prone to any degree of reflection and introspection) not to consider what the end of a career must mean, should mean, will mean someday.
I've found myself appreciating the incredible good humor, relaxed attitude, and startling clarity and insight that this co-worker has provided since he announced that his time was – at long last – almost up. And while I (like many at the office) have speculated that it shouldn't take a person until the very end to behave with such freedom – in the end I think that perhaps that's precisely how it must be. After all, when else in your career can you perform so totally unfettered from the worries, politics, and expectations of the workplace? There should be something really unique about the last chapter of a person's professional life.Long time employees and leaders who are preparing to retire are an
The last parting shots they choose to lob your way are replete with wisdom and perspective – because the 40-year veteran of an organization is a dying breed in and of themselves. So listen up. I did, and here’s what I discovered:
incredible asset to an organization.
Primarily, the lesson I discovered in Larry’s enthusiastic exit wasn't that we should all conduct ourselves like we are on the way out throughout all of our job-focused days. The lesson is that we should conduct ourselves with such passion, integrity, and no-regrets-ethic that when our last chapter comes, people are drawn to the energy we are still giving, the insight we are still sharing, the unique perspective we are still lending - right up until we walk out the door on that last 5 o'clock afternoon.
You don’t ever, ever check out. And you always exit with grace and passion. After all, it’s the final chorus of what you’ve spent the majority of your waking hours doing for 40plus years of your life. Make the conclusion a fulfilling end to the story, eh?
Here’s what I’ve learned from Larry:
1. Old-fashioned business sense matters, and provides a necessary balance to our new approaches for solving time-worn marketplace struggles masked in contemporary skin.
2. A solid handshake and a direct look in the eye cannot be undervalued, and means a tremendous amount in a world of fast paced, touchless communication.
3. If you want to impress a person, you better work at it. Contrary to what I hear a lot these days, you do have to earn the respect of the older crowd – not because you “have to”, but because you should want to.
4. If you are impressed by every somewhat talented person who stumbles across your path, you aren’t really too bright. Be on the watch for the real gems, and push them to excel.
5. Sometimes business is hard. Actually, often time business is hard – and you don’t do anyone (or any organization) any favors by curbing demands for performance.
6. Good leaders aren’t there to blow sunshine at you – and if you don’t like that, well … that’s sort of the point. Go work harder.
Taken alone these lessons don’t equal organizational success, and in fact in a new order marketplace they definitely don’t equal success. But they are necessary, and bring balance to the “new” mode of relating in business, and applying them (or at least acknowledging them) is useful.
When I met Larry, I was prepared to really not like him too much. He was gruff. Abrupt. His emails never more than about 10 words. And he absolutely didn’t fall all over himself in love with all (or any) of my ideas just because I presented them professionally and with energy. He actually made me cry (not at work, but on the long commute home) on more than one occasion. Frustration was there.
I had to work – really, really hard – to impress Larry. At the end of the day, it paid off. And he gave me some of the best, most valuable, and most meaningful praise I’ve ever received. He also left me with some pretty straightforward marching orders about my future in business. And that’s given me plenty to mull over.
So here’s to you, Larry. Thanks for being hard, old-school, and infinitely difficult. I’ve learned an incredible lot from your example.
Go enjoy that sunshine. And please leave us a number where we can track you down once in awhile.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Swan Song: A Gen X Perspective on Retirement
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Offline Living 101: Balance, Margin, Space to Breathe
So, that’s my recipe (at present) for a little offline living in my life. It’s a formational approach, meaning that as I think this through it will change and shift and adapt. Perhaps I am being naïve, but vacation always seems to bring the right clarity – you NEED clarity to be at your best. So, that’s enough of my rambling. I’m headed to the family room to be a tickle monster with Leon and attack Sydney. Then we’re going out for ice cream. That’s the OTHER great part of Vacation.
We’re on family vacation! And even though we flew out to Colorado last summer this time it feels like a bona fide family trip; Sydney, me, and Leon adventuring together! We had a long layover in Dallas (and I’ve spent more than my fair share of time in that airport), and found Mommy’s favorite terminal (D, the international terminal because of the great restaurants and super interesting people you find there) and ate a yummy supper at Chammps (where Leon couldn’t hardly tear his eyes from the TV playing ESPN, and I felt the same way about another screen which had CNN … we’ve been satellite TV deprived this summer). We read books on the plane. Sydney got to watch Dora on the mini-DVD player. And we laughed. A lot.
Best of all, of course, was the time to just BE together; even when Syd had her 10:00p.m. melt down in the Colorado Springs Terminal (just sat right down at the end of the jet bridge and started to cry, “No! No! No!”). In big moments and small, I felt like my heart was expanding; my perspective reshaping; my mind set literally “un-kinking”. And as it always does, the thought came quickly to mind that time away is absolutely essential to making the time “there” more purposeful, centered, and balanced.
That’s not a revolutionary insight, by any stretch. So why is it that we need to be reminded again and again how important it is to include margin in our lives; space, breathing room, whatever we want to call it? Apparently because we’re not quick studies; and it’s only getting worse. In the fine print that comes along with the incredible advantage of carrying our communications tools, and indeed access to the entire world via the Internet, with us, we also carry work life and responsibilities always with us.
It’s tough to escape, and there also is a noticeable growing expectation by some that you really should NOT escape (Generally, these “some” are defined by external things, like work, rewards, improvements. The notion of a life lived with OTHER priorities must seem frighteningly absent of affirmation…just my thought on that). But add to this growing feeling my protestant guilt and ENFP people-pleasing personality type, and you’ve got a pretty powerful equation for never going truly offline.
When I took my new position, I made a pact to use my vacation. I believe I said something like, “I get 5 weeks, and if at the end of the calendar year I have that left over-shame on me.” Well, let the shame begin because the year is more than half over, and I’m not even close. Unfortunately it’s not because I am consumed by the office (okay, maybe that’s it a little bit), but more that the family calendar just doesn’t seem to open up for all of us at the same time (Sydney is so busy, you know), and then there’s this small problem with how quickly time goes by.
But then I really consider that, and I start to feel just a bit uncomfortable; because in the end it still is a question of priorities.
A dear friend of mine often says “life is always about choices.” And this is true. We always have a choice. Not that responsibilities and expectations won’t or shouldn’t be important, but we need to be clear about our priorities in life (our callings, many in my immediate circle would term them).
So, how do we do it? As a working mom, who loves her husband, her daughter, her career, and her own interests, too (forgot about those, eh? Things like cooking, reading, jogging, being with friends, singing in the choir, etc.) – what is the sure-fire method to figuring out how to live a well-balanced, margin-rich, offline life in an online world?
Here are my thoughts on the matter, and I would love to hear yours-we learn by sharing these things:
Friday, August 21, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Full House
This summer, as you all know, has been an experiment in family dynamics (and, so my father who is currently in a grad class at Washington University with the terrifying title, "Oil Wars" tells me, it may become the norm as the decades pass and we Americans persist in our addictive love affair with foreign oil ;-) as Leon, Sydney, and I have become residents in my parents' home.
It's been super. Syd is so happy, and Leon and I are so thankful. I suppose, the family member who seems most distressed is Bailey, but that might just be his 9 years of Golden Retriever life creeping up on him (though he sure does love chasing squirrels in the backyard! My folks seem to have an abundance.)
This week, our full house is totally stuffed as my sister has come to town with her kids: Gabe (7), Asher (3.75), and Rhylah (21 months). Nate (her hubby) gets here Friday, and we will indeed be a massive grouping of Staude-Jameson-Harrmanns. It's pretty outstanding, truthfully - and my sister made the observation that this is the first time she and I have both stayed here since she got married! So Mom and Dad are totally loving it; all the kids are HOME. And until I became a parent, I don't think I could have truly grasped how neat this must actually be.
With family dynamics ever in flux and families living farther and farther apart, this time of togetherness is really something to be cherished. Here's what's great about family all together:
1. It's loud - really loud, kinda crazy loud. This is good for Sydney, who as an only child lacks that chaotic normalcy that comes with siblings and larger family units. Loud means you have to listen more closely; express more carefully; and generally appreciate the speed and intensity that comes with all that energy. It's good for people like me who tend to focus a bit too intensely on the schedule, the routine, and the details.
2. Everybody pitches in - or nothing gets done. You help clean; make sure the kids have dinner; keep an eye on everyone in the pool; pick up other people's toys; share your bed with the kids because they love to get up early and just want to be with you. It's a wonderful sense of together that you don't often get in "normal" suburban family living these days.
3. You make memories that matter - I wish Syd was a little older. Today in church during the last hymn, Papa (that's my Dad) was holding her, and suddenly Rhylah wanted to be held, too. So there was Papa (getting some serious forearm work done) with his girls and the congregation singing, and Kate and I watching them -- and I had this thought, "they won't ever remember this." But Kate and I will. And they'll always know his love for them, even when he can't pick them up!
We all know that American family life is in a state of change. Different roles, increased financial concerns, competing schedules of family members, job transitions, more extra curriculuar things for the kids to do than ever before - having everyone share a space is just not what happens that often, if at all, for many families. It's a total joy to have this summer of family life, and to find new connections and meaning in our relationships with each other. It's one of those "I wouldn't trade it" experiences, and that makes us all very glad, indeed.


