Changing Gear

Something happened this morning that made me laugh. We suffered yet another snowstorm last night (it has been a tough winter in New York and we are still only half way through it), so my wife’s office decided to open later than usual. I had to go into the city too, so we decided to travel in together. On the way to the express bus, navigating through alternate obstacles of ice and puddles, I found myself further and further behind her as she rushed ahead.

As I was trying to avoid falling further behind, I recalled how on our weekend walks we encounter the opposite issue. Seemingly I am prone to rushing ahead. Now, my theory is that my speed is pretty much the same, while it is hers that is changing. Why might that be? It is about changing gears.

I think that many of us deal with the complexity of modern life by taking different attitudes and approaches to different aspects of our daily lives. Working in Manhattan and commuting requires fighting through people, meeting deadlines and showing some aggression. Getting the most from the weekends requires a conscious slowing down and savouring of simpler experiences.

That leads to two speeds. And from the experience of this morning, the faster speed starts as soon as the front door is closed and the first deadline, the due time for the bus, approaches.

One of the blessings of my last years of work in Holland was that I had a walking commute, mostly through a pleasant park. I remember consciously using that twenty minutes to change gear. In the mornings, by the time I got to work I was ready to face it, usually starting with a rush through overnight e-mails. In the evening, by the time I got home I had transitioned to a slower, domestic pace. The walk itself was where I used to learn my songs for singing, much to the amusement of passers by – another difference in New York, no-one would think it remotely strange to pass someone singing away here, anything goes in this city.

When I thought about it more, I found more evidence that our different attitudes can infect each other. One clear example was thinking about my occasional trips to Romania, where I typically spend a week every few months with people in a business that struggles with many things, including humanity in its management.

I have a mean side, epitomised by a sharp tongue. Although it is a blessing to have quick humour sometimes, my cynical mind has let me down many times when it has led me to speak before thinking. Most of my regrets come this way.

Now, I have recently noticed that the incidents of such regret usually occur nowadays soon after a trip to Romania. I don’t think that is a coincidence. While there, my mind has to be sharp, and I witness others behaving in a sharp way. It leaves a mark, and it takes me several days after returning to revert to my less inconsiderate self.

What is scary is realizing that for most of the last thirty years, the atmosphere I now experience in Romania was present most of the time. Probably I was sharp and inconsiderate most of the time. At times of greatest stress, I probably did not manage to wind down before winding up again. I remember taking a vacation of three weeks and suddenly feeling tension flow out of my body during the second week. I am sure this would apply to most people working in stressful jobs.

We all need to psyche ourselves into a different attitude depending on the task at hand. A recent public example in the US concerned a (US) football player called Richard Sherman. He made the decisive play right at the end of a critical game, and within two minutes an inane reporter thrust a microphone at him and asked him how he felt. What emerged from his mouth was an ugly tirade of arrogance and abuse towards a member of the opposing team.

Sherman was roundly condemned around America for this outburst – he had the last laugh as his team won the Superbowl on Sunday with a masterful display. Rather, I condemn those who condemn him. He had not had a chance to change gear from his game attitude, which required him to be aggressive in order to perform. It is unreasonable to expect him to somehow revert to his usual demeanour in such circumstances.

I suspect trouble with changing gear may be one reason people struggle with retirement. Suddenly, a life characterised by walking quickly to catch the bus morphs into one of slow walks in the woods. That is not easy. It can throw someone off balance, and do the same to people around them as well.

What lessons are on offer from this?

Firstly, as usual, comes self-awareness. If we have multiple modes, it can only help if are aware of it. Asking our loved ones for feedback on the subject would be a great place to start. I wonder if others were left trailing on their walk to the bus this morning?

The other part of self-awareness is knowledge of the potential unintended consequences of a particular mode. Walking quickly to a bus does little damage, but my sharp tongue has hurt many people over the years. If I had been able to maintain my aggressive mode but at the same time take enough distance to see its harmful effects, some of that hurt might have been avoided. Then again, perhaps this is not always possible: no one in Seattle would have liked Richard Sherman to tone down his aggression during the games.

There is more potential in focusing on the gear change itself. How can we make sure it is complete? How can we speed it up? What equivalents can we find for my musical daily walk to and from work? Rituals can play a role here. The first action when arriving home from work might be consciously designed to effect a change of gear.

Then we need to be aware of contamination between modes, and of desirable modes being lost altogether. It is not good that my work life became so intense that it took a three week vacation to rediscover any calm (and presumably, to rediscover considerate behaviour). Perhaps many stressed work lives have invaded characters like that. And it is no wonder that such characters would end up evading what should be oasis of retirement.

What are your dominant modes? Have you lost some important gears? Do you need to repair your gearbox? Like in a car, make sure you do it before it is too late and you are stuck on the side of the motorway with a written-off motor.