Change and I

Of recently, I have been wondering how I have been doing in the face of change. I've always thought that I am a person who gets bored with the status quo. I once told someone that if I did not move I’d become a vegetable. Quite harsh.  But such was my determination to make a change at that point in time. Time and again I've found that thought reminisce.  Sometimes, I know what needs to be done.  Most of the times I'm clueless – searching for outlets and answers.

On the surface of it, it’s all good – the me adapting to change thing. But then, I wonder am I really good at change?

Sure, I pull out all stops to make the changes that I want. When they work – its bliss, when they bomb – well there’s heartache but again there is some condolence in the fact that I tried, and then I try again. The cycle is something that many would identify with. For me, to begin with -the little seed of an idea that gets implanted in my head at some point of time. A phase when that idea grows slowly but surely until it becomes loud and clear and impossible to ignore. Then there is the phase to act upon. Quoting one of my favourite authors ‘when thought becomes excessively painful, action is the finest remedy’. This for me entails planning and analysing. Weighing the pros and cons. Factoring in everything I could think about. Applying to multiple scenarios I could possibly conjure. And then there is the final decision – which sometimes defies sane analysis and hedges on that four lettered word – hope. Such self-invoked change journeys for me have so far and mostly proven to be ‘right’ and worth the pain and upheaval. But then again, I question myself – have there been far too little or have they been big enough to make any significant change? Am I guilty of designing these changes and further controlling them to be close enough to my comfort zone? To be brutally honest- well maybe yes.

Then there is the whole other category of change. Stuff that gets thrown at me. Things that I have no control of – the impact of changes made by others that upsets a status quo that I didn't want upsetting, or even worse goes further and damages my  own meticulous plans. These are the suckers. Unwanted guests who insist on staying. Over time, I've realised that these are the real tests of how good a person is in handling change. I usually go through the whole cycle of resisting, ignoring, denying, and then finally accepting it (albeit reluctantly) and moving on.  Even if it’s in my head, all this has to happen. It’s almost as if I am testing each scenario applied to the change for what works best for me.  But what I often forget is that even these unwanted changes present possibilities and open up avenues that I would normally not have thought about. Almost impossible to recognise when you’re in the heart of turmoil, but the sooner you make peace with the situation, the more chances to spot these opportunities. And then, in time, plant the seeds of these new  ideas into your own head, nurture them and then eventually turn an external disruption into a change you own and want to realise.

Change is the only constant in life, they say. External disruptions and self-initiated changes form a cycle if you think about it. I would think that those who accept changes wholly - thrive. Those who don’t -get stuck. And (note to myself) is it really worth it-getting stuck?

The scent of a place

Last summer when I took it upon me to find my new place to live, I searched far and wide. I did not know what I wanted, but I knew for sure that it would feel right if it was right. After trawling through hundreds of advertisements, seeing close to a dozen, one hot Sunday afternoon I finally walked into what felt and maybe even ....smelt right.

I still remember reaching there, and the door was half open. I pushed it a bit more to have a quick peek, the first thing that hit me was ...well that smell. Ah! it wasn't good, it wasn't bad. But it was there. Even while I was being shown around, I couldn't resist thinking about what was that smell that I just couldn't place. Well, within half an hour, I had paid the deposit and had the keys in my hand. Two weeks later when I moved in with my bags and boxes, the keys would not turn. The van driver asked me if I was at the right house. And then, the lock turned, I flung the door open, and whiiiiiiif...there it was. Of course I was in the right place, I could have been blind-folded and I would still know I was there!

As I settled in, along with other stuff, I bought a little army of cleaning agents and air fresheners. That would do it, I thought! Over the next few days, I left the windows and even the doors open, vaccumed every nook and corner, and even washed all the upholstery (which was a big pain). Surely, it could not be that difficult to get rid of a little odour? But it persisted. It couldn't be neutralised, it couldn't be overpowered, not even with my strongest perfume. Every evening, as I entered the house, it was there. Subtle, not strong, not unpleasant, but surely present. What bothered me was I couldn't understand what it was, and even more that no one really noticed it but me.

Well, as time passed, I found myself making peace with the scent of the house. Okay, so it (the house) was here before me and it had some right to maybe have a bit of its own odour personality. So, I stopped trying. I retired the cleaners and fresheners and just let it be. And then the realisation – well maybe I had started liking it. Maybe I had always liked it, just did not recognise it, and waged war on it unnecessarily! Well, maybe it was the reason I actually agreed to place my deposit on a place in 30 minutes? (Okay, now that would be pushing it a bit too far...J) But, I found myself looking forward to it. Now, it was something I knew. It was like the new normal, just part of everything else in this world, just where it should be – in my living room.

As months passed, and summer gave into autumn and then winter, I had stopped noticing. I don’t quite remember when was the last time I’d entered the house and had been hit by that waft. It isn't there. Gone, just like that, without me having to do anything. And now, I sort of miss it. I could still never place it, but if I tried really hard, then.... it was like a concoction of an old library and a dark damp chapel with wooden pews, with a hint of old stowed away books, heap of dried leaves, a bit of incense maybe, and then that something that of course I could only recognise but never describe. (As a friend once suggested – no- it was not fungus, definitely not a dead body:-P) Well, whatever it was, it’s gone, and I’ll never know how to get it back.

It did for some time, at least, feel like the scent of home.

Why “hardworking” is hardly a compliment to me.

Almost a decade back I joined the workforce. Until then, I was conditioned with advise such as “study hard, work hard”. It all felt right, so much that any good that came without struggle and burning the midnight oil seemed unworthy. I took these convictions with me to the workplace, and starting off in the software industry gave ample opportunity to slog hard. You were a good employee only if you came in first and left last. Even when it was really busy, you never said no, no matter how loaded you were anyways. I was starting off and had to prove a point, more to myself than to others, that I am hardworking.

I lived in my hardworking world for sometime, until I worked on a project that changed my perspective on hard work for ever. I was leading a team to deliver a software work-package. We had a decent team, a very supportive manager, and were all set to make a delivery on time, and that’s when the bugs showed up. Design flaws actually that could jeopardise the entire delivery. We were stretched for time, and so we started patching without looking at the whole picture. While we patched up one side, the other fell apart. Soon we knew that we couldn't deliver on time, but the pressure to meet the delivery deadline was huge. More than anything there was a reputation to keep up. So we kept patching all weekend, till we had a mummy for a code delivery.  When we finally left the office, there was a feeling of accomplishment. We met the delivery deadline. In your face – onwards testing team, we did it against all odds.

A few weeks later when I sat with management for the project review, I was expecting bouquets. What else ! There may have been a few good words, but what struck me hard, was when I was told that I and the team should have taken time to work out a systematic controlled approach to solve the problem instead of randomly patching and hoping it worked. I was then told something that would change my perspective on hard work for ever. I was told, work smart and then maybe you wont be spending weekends in the office. Of course that made no sense at that that point of time. Well, you don’t strategise when you are drowning....do you ? You kick and shout and scream. That’s what we did, and I still wanted my bouquet. What can I say – I liked bouquets – who doesn't !

I no longer work in software development, but it stayed with me, however, the work smart thing. When I finally started to see some sense in it, the never ending challenge was – how ? And what is working smart anyway ? Over the years, I have tried different approaches hoping to get close to one that might be smart. In doing that, I’ve realised that it’s actually easier to keep going without stopping, reviewing, and tuning plans, sometimes even scrapping them. Here are a few pointers  I use which I find beneficial. Of course, there is no recipe, and you do have to use your own judgement based on context.

• Planning ahead – for things that could go wrong. Having buffers in any plan is crucial. It doesn't need to be advertised as a buffer, but it needs to be there. 

• Frequent checkpoints – it’s easy to get carried away with the flow of things, but I have been surprised at how checkpoints bring back perspective.

• Delegating – I don’t have to do everything, even if I am in control. Agree on who is doing what and then let them do it.

• Being realistic with deadlines – This is a dangerous one to play with, but depending on circumstances, it could be better to shift a deadline. After all delivering something dead to meet a deadline is no good to anyone.

• Saying no – Not necessarily ‘No’, maybe ‘Not now’ or in other words- prioritisation. 

It’s quite funny that trying to work smart may after all seem to be harder than just working hard. 

For me, trying to work smart hasn't eradicated long working hours altogether, they are still needed when they are needed ! But it definitely improves the chances of getting things at hand done, correctly, and with lesser fumbles and tumbles.

And for the compliment “hardworking” - well, whenever I get one, it gets me wondering – what have I done now – or rather not done !!!