Marc Lesser's Blog, page 24

Manage Your Energy Like Your Life Depended on It

Right now my life is just one learning experience after another. By the end of the week I should be a genius.

– author unknown (once published as a Brush Dance greeting card)

When I was a full-time student at New York University’s Graduate School of Business, I commuted to school five days a week, one and a half hours each way — a half-hour walk to the train station, a half-hour train ride to Manhattan, and half-hour on the subway. I also worked twenty hours a week for a management consulting company, and I spent four to eight hours every day taking care of my infant son while my wife worked or went to graduate school. I read and studied early in the mornings or late at night. I sat meditation each morning and also began a newsletter called From the Marketplace, pulling together stories from friends who had left the San Francisco Zen Center and were engaged in the world outside the Center. I was highly motivated in my quest to learn about business and to integrate mindfulness experience with the business world.

Later in my career, while CEO of the Search Inside Yourself Leadership Institute, I was constantly stretched to find the energy it took to engage fully with myself and everyone in the organization. My life very much felt like “rocks in a tumbler”: hard boulders hitting each other, again and again, constantly becoming smoother and smoother, the edges being worn down. Each day I would bump into my own habits and patterns, as well as the habits, patterns, and pain of those working around me. While striving for clarity I would at times create confusion. It struck me at times that the life of a mindfulness student or teacher, and the life of a businessperson or leader could perhaps be described as “one mistake following another.”

Mindfulness practice is often thought of as easygoing and contemplative however it requires tremendous energy and effort to stay focused on outer and inner transformation. There is an expression in Zen encouraging students to “practice as though your head were on fire.” Looking at ourselves, recognizing our habits and patterns and then having the skill and courage to work with them is a deep, visceral process. Looking outward, working to transform the confusion, pain, and suffering in the workplace and in the world takes a great deal of energy and focus.

The expression, working as though your head is on fire, means to work with intensity, with your full energy. Working with intensity does not mean that you need to act quickly or be in a rush. The combination of focus and intensity can often expand or shift our usual concepts of time. Intensity is a combination of focus, resolve, energy, and tenacity — focusing on the issue and not being distracted; working with resolve and determination; using your full energy, sometimes pacing yourself and sometimes moving quickly, much like a long-distance runner; and working with tenacity to go after a solution despite the difficulties and roadblocks.

One of the points I often raise in Company Time Workshops (a series of weekend retreats that combine mindfulness and business) is that, not only is it useful to look at ways mindfulness practice can inform business, it is also important to look at ways that practices and values developed in business can benefit and inform mindfulness practice. An important value that the world of business has to offer to the world of mindfulness practice is working with energy and a sense of urgency. In business, success and failure matter. Meeting goals matters. Meeting deadlines and delivering when agreed matter. When something is urgent in business, everything else takes a back seat to the matter at hand. This kind of energy can help to keep communication and actions crisp and clear, cutting through confusion and entanglements, distinguishing what really matters from what doesn’t.

In Zen temples a wooden mallet is used to hit a wooden block to announce when it is time for meditation. Written on the back of the wooden block are characters that say, “Life and death are the great matters. Don’t waste time.” None of us knows when we will die. Zen teachers sometimes describe our lives as like being in a boat on an ocean, floating out to sea, knowing that someday our boat will sink — but having no idea when this will happen. Since we don’t know when we will die, we should make our best effort right now. There is no reason to hold back, nothing to wait for. This kind of realization and acknowledgment of the shortness of our lives can help to provide the kind of visceral energy required to transform our businesses and/or our lives.

Practices:

Try working at different paces. For half a day, work at a slow and steady pace. For another half day, try working with increased energy and intensity. Notice the difference.
Notice what activities give you energy. When do you feel most engaged? Try to do more of these.
Notice what activities drain your energy. When do you feel disengaged? Try to do less of these.

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3 Things to Do Every Day at Work

Many years ago, when I was CEO of Brush Dance, my wife asked me to give her the names of some graphic designers and to describe their particular capabilities. I wrote her an email, describing the two designers we used and outlined what I felt were their strengths and their limitations. I then mistakenly sent this email to the designers instead of to my wife. I received a phone message from one of the designers, who was quite upset by having received my email, though I hadn’t said anything particularly negative. While I was thinking about how I should respond to this situation I noticed that I started to feel more and more angry with my wife. I noticed that what was going through my mind was, “If only my wife had not asked me for the names of these designers, I would not have gotten into this mess.” Fortunately, I was able to laugh at myself.

When we practice ethical conduct we acknowledge the reality that we live and work with other people. We all have the ability to cause harm. We all make choices. Our actions have consequences. Ethical conduct can be summarized in what in Buddhism are called the three pure precepts: do good, avoid harm, help others. Ethical conduct is a way of describing compassionate activity and is not seen as a list of hard-and-fast rules. Instead, the precepts provide guidelines and a path toward realizing our own natures and toward opening our hearts.

Buddhism also describes what are called the Ten Grave Precepts. Each of these can be applied to our work lives:

Not killing. This precept might include not killing time and not killing opportunities to help others. It also might include the necessity of working for peace.
 Not taking what is not given. This precept includes not taking from others, not taking money, and not taking others’ ideas without acknowledgment.
 Not misusing sex. This precept includes not being completely honest and open to real intimacy.
 Not speaking falsely. This precept says to speak the truth, to speak honestly, not to lie, and to speak from your heart.
 Not giving or taking drugs. This precept says to trust in your mind just as it is, without taking any mind-changing drugs.
 Not discussing the faults of others. This precept is very important in work settings. It requires not gossiping about other people and not triangulating, saying things to someone about a third person that you have not said directly to this person.
 Not praising self at the expense of others. This precept advises us not to put others down and to speak in a way that is respectful and that makes others feel their worth.
 Not being selfish. The precept advises us not to act from a place of tightness but instead to act from a sense of abundance and with an open heart.
 Not indulging in anger. Although expressing anger can be healthy and useful, this precept tells us that indulging in anger creates harm and disharmony.
 Not living a life based in practice. This precept underlines the need to frame all activities within the context of practice: doing good, avoiding harm, helping others.

The issue of ethical conduct has become more and more relevant in business and work. Business leaders who lie and steal or do not adhere to real ethical conduct are capable of causing tremendous harm to many people. Ethical conduct in many ways is the backbone for living and working within a life of mindfulness practice.

In an often-told Zen story a student once asked, “Is a completely awakened person free from cause and effect?” The teacher answers, “Yes, a completely awakened person is free from cause and effect.” In response to this answer the teacher is turned into a fox for five hundred lifetimes. This story demonstrates that no one is free from the consequences of their actions.

Practices:

Try to do these 3 things every day at work: Do good, avoid harm, help others.
Notice when you are, and when you are not, practicing these three guidelines.

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Audio: Relaxed and Alert (5 Minute Meditation)

In this 5-minute guided meditation, we’ll practice completely being relaxed while being completely alert at the same time.

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Audio: Just One Career

In this dharma talk at City Center, a branch of the San Francisco Zen Center, Marc Lesser discusses how we only have one career and how the practices of knowing our self, going beyond our self and helping others are interconnected with practicing love. Drawing on his work as a “stealth Zen teacher” in the business world, he explores how this practice teaches us to truly enjoy life, to live our love, and to embrace the work of cultivating awareness and helping others. Marc also brings in the practice of “Don’t be an Expert” – the third of the Seven Practices of a Mindful Leader.

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It Takes Patience to Accept the Truth

I was the CEO of Brush Dance for more than fifteen years. When I look back at the initial business plan that I wrote in 1989 I see that the company achieved exactly what I set out to achieve in terms of revenues, product line, and distribution. It took us nearly fifteen years instead of the projected three years to reach these benchmarks. I sometimes describe Brush Dance as an overnight success — that took fifteen years to achieve.

I also did not project the ups and downs, the near-bankruptcies, the comings and goings of employees. I never expected the pain of wondering how we were going to meet payroll and the worry about how to keep the business going when the retail environment (our customers) dramatically shifted, and when the financial picture looked completely bleak. I had no idea that we would transform into an Internet company, that my board would hire a CEO to manage the company, and that it would take years to transform the company back into being a wholesale business.

I sometimes think that Zen students and entrepreneurs are the most patient, and at the same time the least patient, people. Zen students spend long hours, days, and years, sitting, facing a wall, expecting nothing. Entrepreneurs spend a tremendous amount of time, energy, and money planning and working without knowing the results of their efforts. While Zen students and entrepreneurs exhibit great patience they are equally impatient when it comes to accepting anything less than aligning actions and values, and striving for quality.

Basho, a Zen poet wrote:

                 Fleas, lice

                The horse pissing

                Near my pillow

This poem describes the rawness of Basho’s life and his ability to describe things just the way they are. My poem for today could be something like:

               Fires everywhere

               No power

              Where is there hope?

Our lives at work are filled with difficulty. People are late for meetings. Our ideas are not met with enthusiasm. Computers crash, restart, and crash again. Other people don’t meet our expectations. Our overnight package is lost. Relationships become impossible. Cash shortages are threatening, and businesses fail. Patience requires that we fully and directly face our difficulties, that we embrace and learn from situations and from our feelings about them. Owning and transforming our pain and disappointment can be a tremendous challenge, as well as a tremendous gift.

Patience is what connects the entrepreneurial spirit required in business with facing the truth of what is actually required in mindfulness practice. It takes patience to face the truth of where we are in our work lives. The truth may include the pain of not meeting expectations, a variety of messy and challenging situations facing us each day, as well the possibilities of transformation and great accomplishment.

Zen describes several kinds of patience that can be practiced at work: acceptance of difficulty and hardship, not acting hastily, and acceptance of what is true.

 Acceptance of difficulty. Our lives at work can be transformed when we completely accept that difficulty is to be expected and cannot be avoided. This doesn’t mean we take the negative attitude of “what will go wrong today?” Instead, we just pay attention to our own state of mind. We make our best effort. We meet each situation as it arises.

 Not acting hastily. Given how difficult, unpredictable, and stressful our work lives can be, it is easy to respond quickly and impatiently. In difficult situations, just stop, think, and look more carefully at what really is the cause of the difficulty. When things go badly you can get upset and yell at whoever is the cause. Or, when things are rough, what if you just stop, take a breath, and notice your breathing, notice what is around you.

Acceptance of what is true. Most of our impatience comes from our wanting things to be different from what they are. Our overnight package did not arrive overnight. This is just true. There is nothing we can do to change what is. We can take actions to expedite the package’s delivery, but this action includes accepting what is difficult, not acting hastily, and accepting what is true.

Practices:  

Notice when you are patient and when you are impatient at work.
Write down and fill in: I feel patient when…. It is hard for me to feel patient when…
Notice what is most difficult for you at work. What part of this difficulty do you create? How can you transform this difficulty?

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Generosity

“There is a time when the mind transforms things, and there is giving in which things transform the mind.”

–Zen teacher Dogen

Ten minutes. That was the amount of time allowed to make a presentation to a group of one 150 prospective investors. I had been invited, along with 15 other company founders, to a conference of socially responsible investors being held in Southern California. I had ten minutes to capture their attention, to describe the Brush Dance (a publishing company I founded many years ago) history, strategies, and plans for the future, and to make a compelling case for the financial and social benefits of investing money in this young company at this time. These investors were using two criteria in making their decisions: 1) Was this a good financial investment? 2) Was this company meeting some kind of social or environmental need, and not causing social or environmental harm?

After each company’s presentations were made, the group of investors met privately in a large conference room to discuss the strengths and weaknesses of each business and to share information. I found out after the conference that someone I barely knew, a man named Peter, stood up in front of this group as they were discussing each business and said, “I strongly recommend that we invest in Brush Dance. Marc is a really good person, and this is a worthwhile business to invest in.” I was moved by Peter’s generosity when I heard this from one of the investors who had attended the meeting. It is one of those extraordinary, anonymous acts that has stayed with me as an example of generosity.

Everything we think of as ours, our bodies and minds and all the material things that make up our lives, has been given to us. The air we breathe and the water we drink are gifts. Everything we do in our work has been taught to us or given to us by someone else. All work, all business, is centered around giving — we give food, goods, services, and comfort.

The mindfulness tradition offers several different views and practices regarding generosity. Thich Nhat Hanh says, “the greatest gift we can offer is our presence.” He goes on to explain that we can also offer our stability, our freedom, our happiness, our freshness, and our peace.

Presence. Just being present to those we work with, just listening fully as a human being, is perhaps the greatest gift we can offer at work. So often we are caught up in our tasks and our busyness. Just stopping and being present can transform our environment and open us in unexpected ways.

Stability. We offer our stability by bringing a calm and clear mind to our work. We offer stability by staying out of the dramas, by not wobbling. We offer our stability by just being ourselves, moment after moment.

 Freedom. Offering our freedom is encouraging others by acting from our own clarity, our own ability to make choices. We offer freedom by not being afraid to speak and act for what we deeply believe.

 Happiness. Allowing ourselves to feel happy can be a tremendous act of generosity to ourselves and to those around us. Our own happiness is perhaps our dearest birthright, not to be ignored or sacrificed.

Freshness. Imagine coming to work, fresh and renewed, as if it were a new day, like no other day. (Isn’t this a fact?)

Peace. Our workplace is where peace can begin. Peace is not something that just happens but a moment-to-moment act, a practice of generosity.

Zen teacher Dogen said, “When we understand completely, being born and dying are both forms of giving. All productive labor is fundamentally giving. Giving is to transform the mind of living beings. One should not calculate the greatness or smallness of the mind, nor the greatness or smallness of the thing. Nevertheless, there is a time when the mind transforms things, and there is giving in which things transform the mind.”

How often in our work lives are we so focused on tasks that we forget the importance of being present to our colleagues? At work we have many opportunities to be generous with our time, knowledge, and understanding. We can give others our trust and confidence.

The practice of generosity is giving ourselves over to what we are doing. The first step in mindfulness practice is to start where you are, to fully accept your strengths and weakness, your talents and your limitations. This is an act of generosity with yourself. Generosity is a vital ingredient in moving toward doing good and avoiding harm.

Try this:

Decide to perform an act of generosity each week (or each day.)
Do something generous that is anonymous, and selfless. Just do it.
Choose an act of generosity to practice — presence, stability, freedom, and so forth. Notice what draws you to this practice as well as what resistance your might have.
Notice how others practice or don’t practice generosity in your workplace.

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Accomplishing More by Doing Less

I was surprised, honored, and intimidated when I was asked to be the Tassajara summer bread baker. I had some baking experience, having spent a winter in the Tassajara kitchen, but I had never made the quantities and varieties of breads that were expected of someone in this position. Also, the Tassajara baker has a reputation to uphold of making terrific bread. Each day the baker’s job was to make twenty-five to thirty each of three to four different kinds of bread, a total of 100 to 120 loaves, all completely from scratch. Bread was served at student and guest meals and was also offered for sale each day for guests to take home.

For the first two months, this was the most physically strenuous job I had ever had. My days began at 5:00 a.m., and the last batch of bread came out of the oven at about 4:00 p.m. After dinner I would research and plan the breads for the next day, often meeting with the guest cooks to confirm the menus. During the work day I was mixing and kneading 40-50 pound batches of bread, measuring, cutting, and shaping loaves, baking loaves in three different ovens, and orchestrating all this in the middle of an active, bustling kitchen. After completing the baking in the late afternoon, I generally collapsed, my muscles aching, my body hot and exhausted. I ate dinner and then began planning the next day’s menu and recipes.

By the middle of the summer, something clicked. Mixing a batch that had taken me forty minutes in the early summer now took me less than ten minutes. It seemed, suddenly, that very little effort was required. Whereas I had struggled with the kneading process in early summer, by mid-summer it seemed almost effortless. My body had learned how to mix and knead these large and heavy batches of bread without expending much effort.

I learned, over and over, as the Tassajara bread baker, that the less I did, the better the bread came out. The secret to making tasty bread was to plan ahead, use good ingredients, and let the bread do the work. This was an amazing discovery!

Fast forward to my first job after graduating from business school with a $10 million distributor of recycled paper. I came on as the company was gearing up for explosive growth. Everyone worked really hard, people didn’t take lunch breaks, and nearly everyone worked on weekends. I noticed that the harder people worked, the less seemed to be accomplished. Soon after I started working for this company, I was asked to work on a Saturday. I spent a Saturday afternoon in a meeting with the leadership team in which very little was achieved. I made it clear from that point on that I could not work on weekends, except for very clearly-stated projects.

I also contacted one of my business mentors for advice on how to deal with the company culture at my new job. He suggested that I clearly state that my rule is to have dinner every evening with my family. I let my boss and my co-workers know about this rule, and not only was it not questioned, it was also respected. I did have dinner every night with my wife and two children and the work that needed to get done was completed without my needing to work late or on weekends.

Accomplishment has much more to do with focus than with time and effort. We can get more done in a few focused hours than in many days of not being focused.

When I launched my first company, a publishing company called Brush Dance, I was responsible for every aspect of the business — strategy, sales and marketing, accounting, and even wrapping and shipping the packages. As the business grew I hired people to take on specific roles, but I continued to manage key areas of sales and product development. At some point all the departments were run by managers who had more skill and experience than I did. My key role in the company was to be present, to provide guidance and support. I felt much like I did as the head baker at Tassajara — the less I did the better the “bread” came out.

Practices :

Bring to mind a time when you accomplished more of what matters with less effort. How did this feel?
What did you learn and how can you bring more effortlessness into your work and life?

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What Wrestling Taught Me About Zen and the Practice of Concentration

I was captain of my high school wrestling team during my senior year of Colonia High School in north-central New Jersey. One of the teams we regularly faced was J. P. Stevens High School from Edison. They were consistently one of the top-rated teams in the state and often sent wrestlers to the state championship. During the warm-up period, my team behaved like most high school wrestling teams. We ran briskly onto the mats, did some exercises, and made a lot of noise. The main objective of our warm-up was to demonstrate our prowess to the opposing team.

In contrast, the J. P. Stevens team walked out slowly and quietly onto the wrestling mat. They were poised, focused, and concentrated, preparing themselves for the task ahead by settling and quieting their minds. They seemed disinterested in our team. Their uniforms were black, and their heads were nearly shaved. They didn’t talk or smile. I knew right away that this was the team I wanted to be on. I think of this as an early sign of my desire to be a Zen student (and at times a Zen monk.)

One of the things that intrigued me in high school wrestling was the power, passion, and complexity of concentration. I noticed that my desire to win and my fear of losing often interfered with my performance, my concentration, and my enjoyment. I knew that something very important was going on, and I also felt that something very vital was missing. By my senior year I was a fairly good wrestler, having faced some of the better competition in the state. Competing with the best in the state was, as my coach proclaimed, a good way to develop. Our coach used to ask, “Do you want to be a big fish in a small pond, or a big fish in a large pond?” This was his way of explaining that although we were a new and inexperienced team, it was useful to wrestle against the best teams in the state, even if it meant being utterly demolished and embarrassed.

In watching other wrestlers, I noticed that the good ones were usually strong and athletic and really wanted to win. The best wrestlers, those who became state champions, seemed different. They weren’t always the strongest or quickest or the most athletic looking. They certainly cared about winning, but they did not seem caught up in winning and losing. Rather, they appeared focused on what they were doing. They seemed to move and act from a deeper place than the good wrestlers. They often seemed a little odd and appeared not to care what others thought of them. I knew that there was something to learn from these wrestlers and that the lessons to be learned would translate far beyond the wrestling mat.

I notice now that the people I most admire in business have similar qualities to the wrestlers who were the state champions — they are not the smartest or most aggressive people. Successful businesspeople often seem quiet and sometimes shy. (Of course, there are many exceptions to this!) They appear somewhat unusual. They seem to be having fun and at the same time are present and aware. I notice a quality in them that I would describe as concentration.

Mindfulness practice describes two kinds of concentration, active and selective, that can be applied to our work lives. Active concentration is similar to mindfulness; it is focusing on whatever is arising in the moment. We appreciate and pay attention to whatever comes along. We are not judging or evaluating but just listening to what is being said, just seeing what is right in front of us.

Selective concentration is choosing a particular object or practice. We can use concentration to solve a quantitative problem or to design a new marketing campaign. Developing and using concentration can transform the way we perform a host of activities in our work lives. Three traditional objects of concentration can be applied to our work lives: concentration on impermanence, concentration on interrelatedness, and concentration on letting go of self. Let’s take a look at these now.

Impermanence

The Buddha suggested that one way to grasp impermanence is to picture our body after we have died. This practice involves seeing our body decaying, being eaten by insects, turning from the familiar human form to bones, then dust, and then returning to the Earth. Another way to practice with impermanence is to imagine that the work you are doing as no longer existing. Concentrate on the fact that the company you work for will someday not exist. Imagine your workspace as no longer being your workspace. Picture it as a forest or an empty field.

By acknowledging and experiencing the fleeting nature of your life, your awareness can drop down to a deeper place, where what really matters comes more clearly into focus.

Interrelatedness

Concentration on the interrelatedness of all things is critical in working with people, and in evaluating and implementing our business strategy. How we interact with each person we work with effects the entire team and the efforts of the company. How we organize or participate in a meeting affects the daily atmosphere, future meetings, and the success of the company.

In discussing interrelatedness Thich Nhat Hanh says, “If you are a poet you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. Without a cloud there will be no rain, the trees cannot grow; and without trees we cannot make paper. The cloud is essential for the paper to exist. If the cloud is not here the sheet of paper cannot be here either. So we can say that the cloud and the paper inter-are.”

It is striking for me to realize that I have never done anything in business by myself. I need the skills of others who know about computers, software, phone systems, legal issues, and accounting issues. Businesses require caring and skilled employees, customers, and vendors, and a wide community of support. Every aspect of our work lives is completely interdependent.

Letting go of self

Concentration on letting go of self means not being attached to the images and ideas we have about ourselves. Practicing self-lessness is taking things less personally, widening your perspective beyond me and mine, gain and loss. Success or failure is not something that “I” did. We make our best effort in each moment, without being caught up in the illusion of what “I” accomplished, or didn’t accomplish, separate from all the interactions we have with others.

Some things to reflect on:

Notice where you choose to put your attention as well as the quality of your attention.
How do you, or might you, practice with impermanence, interrelatedness, and letting go of self – in your work, and in all parts of your life?

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What’s Your Intention? The Practice of Skillful Effort

Many years ago, after living at the San Francisco Zen Center for ten years and then completing New York University’s MBA program, it was time to find work. I was living with my wife and young son in New York City. One of the challenging and unexpected patterns that developed was that I revised my résumé each time I failed to find a job. I’ve sometimes thought that I could put a book together showing how my résumé evolved to make my previous work experiences appear more understandable. I learned the importance of telling my story so that it addressed the specific needs of prospective employers. I also learned that a résumé is both a record of previous accomplishments and a statement of potential. Still, the fact that I had been a Zen student for many years (and had very little other work experience) did not appear to open doors in New York City. My previous position as Director of Tassajara, Zen Mountain Center, changed on my résumé to become Human Resources Director of Tassajara, a California resort.

I interviewed for several months, determined to get a job as a trainer in the New York corporate world. I went on numerous interviews and made several presentations. I had some talented mentors who taught me how to dress, how to tell my story, and how to conduct myself in a job interview. After several months and many meetings I was getting discouraged. Then, I was interviewing with a woman at a small consulting company who read my résumé and said, “Who are you kidding? I’m familiar with Tassajara. It’s a Zen monastery!” I had no idea what to think of her discovery. She smiled, and said she felt connected to me because of my Zen background, and I was hired for my first business management job in New York City. My effort had paid off, albeit in an unusual way.

Skillful effort means making careful and steady effort. In the context of work, and our lives, the key issue is the aim of our effort. From the usual perspective, at work our goal is to maximize profits for our own benefit, to increase our material value, and to have as much control, power, and predictability as possible. From the perspective of mindfulness, our effort is toward freedom, flexibility, happiness, compassion, and social justice. Profits, power, and control can be used toward these goals, but they are not ends in themselves.

Our work lives, and all parts of our lives are transformed when we practice skillful effort — steady effort toward using each situation to free ourselves and others from habits and patterns that cause pain, toward building character and developing a flexible, open mind. In forging our paths we have no choice but to start where we are. We have no choice but to move ahead, not knowing what will happen.

Skillful effort means not getting thrown off our path, or when we are, to notice and adjust. We notice, over and over, when we have not lived up to our expectations, and we try again. After I left the Zen Center community to pursue my MBA I lived in Great Neck, New York. Somehow I met one of the few, and perhaps only, other Zen practitioners in Great Neck. Brenda and I started a small meditation group in her living room, and we sat meditation together several mornings a week. We did this for several months and then noticed that several months would go by without our sitting together. We would contact each other and begin again, sitting regularly for many months. This pattern repeated itself three or four times. One day we were discussing what to name our little meditation group, and we decided on “Let’s try it again,” hanging a sign in her living room (our meditation hall) with those very words.

The effort and path of integrating mindfulness practice and work requires tremendous effort. Just trying to practice mindfulness often seems daunting. Just trying to make a living at times seems daunting. Who would be foolish (or brave, courageous) enough to try to combine the two? And, what could be more satisfying?

Skillful Effort Practices:

Explore writing about skillful effort by completing these prompts:

When my effort is driven by fear I …..

When my effort is driven by generosity I….

What supports my practice of skillful effort is…

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Video: How Well Do Mindfulness and Technology Go Together

In this interview, Marc Lesser speaks “backstage” at Tech Open Air, Berlin with the team at Connected Business about Mindfulness and Technology and how these two things can go together. You can watch/listen to the conversation below.

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