Alan Fox

I loved the TV show “I Dream of Jeannie,” which ran from 1965 through 1970.  I imagined Jeannie popping out of her bottle and granting my fondest wish. Ten years ago I was a speaker at an event where Barbara Eden (who played Jeannie), also appeared.  In the TV series she was a 2,000-year-old genie.  When I met her in real life she was in her seventies and, while still glamorous, she wasn’t granting any more wishes.

In my business I solve problems. I used to wish that a genie would appear and solve them for me.  Alas, no genie has yet materialized, so as a more realistic alternative I practice keeping my genie of fear contained inside my emotional bottle, and I leave that bottle at the office.

In other words, I don’t take my business home with me.  But the rules I follow are useful even outside of a business context.

1. Don’t waste time and emotion worrying about a problem that you can’t do anything about. You will feel worse, and the problem will likely run its course anyway.
2. If you can solve the problem, go for it. I always feel better when I’m actively working on a solution. But give yourself permission to leave it at the office or take a break. Research suggests stepping away for a time can help you find a solution.  (People Tool of “Stuff it in your Sub.”)
3. Remember to remain positive and be thankful for the gift of every new challenge. After all, life is full of tests, and working to find an answer can be both stimulating and rewarding. Daveen, for example, likes crossword puzzles.
4. When you aren’t working to solve the problem that is troubling you, let it go. Pretend it doesn’t exist.  When it pops into your head anyway, and it will, just note, “Aha, you are visiting me again.”  Then distract yourself by thinking of something else.  Something pleasant. Something you look forward to.
5. All of this takes practice, so I encourage you to keep training yourself to put these ideas into action.
6. Finally, cultivate a Zen-like approach. Always keep in mind, “This too shall pass.”

The Declaration of Independence declares as a fundamental right the pursuit of happiness.  To me this means that we have the right to live in a way that makes us happy.  Don’t we encourage our children to do exactly that?

But what about the fantasy that our lives should always be easy?  Keep that genie in her bottle.  And enjoy today in the real world.

Alan

“A New Frame” is my latest People Tool.

One of my favorite works of art in my home is a small drawing of a cottage.  It was not always my favorite.  One day Dan, a friend and professional art framer, visited and noticed the drawing hanging on the wall of my den.

“In a new frame,” he said, “that cottage would be exquisite.”

“Be my guest.”

I handed the drawing to him.  Years before I had concluded that, to get the best results, I needed to trust the experts.  Of course, as a well-known former president also said, “Trust, but verify.”

In this case verification was easy.  Two months later Dan returned with the reframed drawing.  He was absolutely right.  The cottage had been transformed from “nice” to “special.”  It’s my favorite to this day.

From my children I have learned that the concept of “reframing” has become popular in psychology.  This is not about art on the wall, but rather about how we each frame the experiences and expectations of our lives.

This year Covid-19 has affected almost everyone on the planet.  The words most commonly used to frame our shared experience are negative.  “Afraid,” “isolated,” and “uncertain” come to mind.  Perhaps each of these is true, but just like the old frame for my drawing we can certainly reframe our view of the world.

Couldn’t we also frame the pandemic positively? Perhaps we could think of it as “more time with family,” “less traffic,” or “a great opportunity to learn something new.”

The frame is just as important, perhaps even more important, than the picture, especially when we focus on our own state of mind.  Inside a happy frame my body relaxes. A negative frame of mind puts my stomach in knots.

In addition to reframing our experiences, we can also reframe our expectations.  My mantra is, “Expect the best, plan for the worst.”  But even in the worst of times I comfort myself with the idea, “I will prevail.”  Sometimes I don’t know how, but I’m confident that I will and that makes all the difference in how I feel each day.

To start putting your experiences and expectations into a new frame, consider telling yourself once each morning, and once each evening, something you expect to enjoy, or actually have enjoyed that day.  And when your mind responds with, “Yeah, but also remember the problems,” just say to yourself, “no, thanks,” and refocus on the positive.

You deserve a new and radiant frame in which to view the work of art that is your life.

Alan

The above is a reference to the title of a book by Thomas Wolfe published in 1940, two years after his death – you can’t truly go back to a place where you once lived because it has changed.  Inevitably, you will have changed as well.

The phrase came to mind last week after Daveen and I looked at a house for sale in Sherman Oaks near the 405 Interstate.  After our tour we drove past two nearby houses that I lived in almost fifty years ago.

I have fond memories of both homes, though I hadn’t really thought about them for a while. Seeing both again was surprising and disappointing.

I lived in the first house until 1971.  It has a brick facade.  The brick was painted stark white then, with mounds of Korean grass in front.  Now the brick has been restored to its natural red color, and the yard itself has entirely different landscaping – tall trees, shrubs, and no grass at all.  I was startled.  Actually, I was shocked.

As we sat in the car I said to Daveen, “This house used to have a lot of curb appeal.  It was new and fresh.  Now I wouldn’t even want to go inside.”

“And,” I added,” I used to love this neighborhood.  Now I don’t.  Most of the houses seem old and tired.”

I only recognized the second house, a few blocks away, because it has a stucco wall in front and many stairs leading up to the front door.  “Ugh,” I thought, “who would want to climb thirty steps just to reach their front door?  Not me.”

Of course, forty-five years ago I didn’t give those stairs a second thought.  Today I prefer a single story house.

Old times were the best, weren’t they?  High School graduation was exciting.  Having young children was exhausting but fun.  Our trip to Antarctica was perfect.  I first visited Machu Picchu in 1972 when it was relatively unknown.  On a return visit several years ago I had to make my reservation a month in advance, pay for my ticket, and walk only on the marked path.

I conclude that it’s best to live in the present. Enjoy whatever you can right now, and allow fond memories to rest in peace.

My father loved deep sea fishing, and took me with him from the time I was eight years old.  I still remember our final fishing trip, when we each caught the limit of ten yellowtail.

“This is it,” my dad said as we loaded the fish into the trunk of his car.  “I’m never going deep sea fishing again.”

“Why not, Dad?”

“It couldn’t possibly be better.  I want to keep today fresh in my memory.”

Dad, you were right.  You can’t go home again.

Alan