To flow is to live

Much to my own disappointment, I have stopped thinking that I am still the dashing young man with a whole lot of hair on my head.  I know well that I have become a part of the "old" generation.  In the old country, strangers and relatives alike who are younger than me address me as "uncle."  The next thing I know, they will talk sloooowly and LOUDLY to me with the hope that I will understand them!

I now have become old enough that there are children of my undergraduate classmates who seek my advice!  Of course, as always, I never advise them on what they should do.  

Whether it is students at my college who make the mistake of coming to me for advice, or the youth from the other side of the planet, my approach is no different: "What do you want to do, if there were no restrictions?" is what I typically ask them.

Almost always, it is a confused, stunned silence as an initial response.  Because, most never think about that.  If at all, their responses will be a whole bunch of general ideas.  "I want to travel." "I want to help other people." "Whatever I do, I want to own a nice car."  Yep, I have heard such responses, which can never get anyone any feasible plan of action.

Even you--yes, you--too perhaps did not think about that when you were young.  When you were 17, or even 21, did you think long and hard about what you wanted to do in life, if there were no restrictions and constraints?  Did you use that as a starting point in order to attempt to define the rest of your life?  Chances are that most people do not.  At that age, we are busily dealing with our emotions, or dutifully living out the elders' definition of whatever the right thing is.

What you and I, and almost everybody else, did not realize on our own, nor did elders take the time to tell us, is a fundamental aspect of life: At 21, we have barely begun the marathon.   It is a long life.

Life is a marathon, I now tell students.  And life is not easy.  In fact, for the most part, life gets harder in many ways as we grow out of our childhood.  As life gets increasingly challenging, imagine doing something that you really, really, really do not want to do, and having to do that day in and day out.  It will be a miserably long life, I would think.

A Cornell University economics professor writes about such matters and more in this piece, where he has a clear bottom-line:

Resist the soul-crushing job’s promise of extra money and savor the more satisfying conditions you’ll find in one that pays a little less.

Before reaching that bottom-line, he writes:

The happiness literature has identified one of the most deeply satisfying human psychological states to be one called “flow.” It occurs when you are so immersed in an activity that you lose track of the passage of time. If you can land a job that enables you to experience substantial periods of flow, you will be among the most fortunate people on the planet.

Have I told you enough times that I am one of the most fortunate people in this regard?  

I have not worked for many years now

I have officially become a part of the "old" generation.  I now have become old enough that the children of my undergraduate classmates are writing to me seeking my advice.  And I thought I am still the dashing young man with a whole lot of hair on my head! ;)

Of course, as always, I never did advise them on what they should do.  Whether it is students at my college who make the mistake of coming to me for advice, or the youth from the other side of the planet, my approach is no different: "What do you want to do, if there were no restrictions?" is what I typically ask them.

Almost always, it is a confused, stunned silence as an initial response.  Because, most never think about that.  You--yes, dear reader, you--too perhaps did not think about that when you were young.  When you were 17, or even 22, did you think long and hard about what you wanted to do in life, if there were no restrictions and constraints?  Did you use that as a starting point in order to attempt to define the rest of your life?  Chances are that most people do not.

In the email, after giving one a bunch of ideas on how to proceed, I wrote at the end:

I want to assure you that you will be on the right track as long as you keep thinking.  

It is a long life.  And life is not easy.  For the most part, life gets harder in many ways as we grow out of our childhood.  In that challenging context, imagine doing something that you really, really, really do not want to do, and having to do that day in and day out.  It will be a miserably long life, I would think.

A Cornell University economics professor writes about such matters and more in this piece, where he has a clear bottom-line:

Resist the soul-crushing job’s promise of extra money and savor the more satisfying conditions you’ll find in one that pays a little less.

Before reaching that bottom-line, he writes:

The happiness literature has identified one of the most deeply satisfying human psychological states to be one called “flow.” It occurs when you are so immersed in an activity that you lose track of the passage of time. If you can land a job that enables you to experience substantial periods of flow, you will be among the most fortunate people on the planet.

Have I told you enough times that I am one of the most fortunate people in this regard?  I often comment to students that I would do what I do even if I don't get paid and, thankfully, I get paid as well.  I get paid to read, think, write, and--most importantly--help young people understand the world.  How fantastic, right?  "Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life" is true--if we can find that job.

I am behind on a few bills though; wanna help me? ;)

Prediction is very difficult, especially about the future

There are famous opening lines in fiction.  Like, "Call me Ismael." Or, "All happy families are alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."  "Mother died today" is another opener and so is "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."  The first sentence sets up the reader for what is to come later on.

We lesser mortals suck at powerful and memorable opening lines, especially in reports and op-eds.  But, every once in a while, I do find one, which is what happened earlier this morning, when I read this:

Only the brave or foolhardy would claim knowledge about the shape of jobs for the next decade, let alone the rest of the 21st century.

Kaboom!  TKO right away.

The next time the university lets out yet another stinking fart that is disguised as as a degree program with stellar employment potential, I should remember to quote them that sentence.  But then I keep forgetting that I am incommunicado ;)

So if we’re not sure what the jobs of the future will look like, what kind of tertiary education can prepare students for the world of work?

Isn't that the gazillion dollar question!

Last week, during the introductory meetings, I shared with students my thoughts on higher education, which were not that different from what I have been telling students for years: they are not preparing for a job, but are investing their time and money in order to pick up valuable skills that will help them adapt to changes that will keep coming at rates even faster than the changes that we have experienced until now.  The more they can easily adapt, the more they will be able to survive in the brutal global economic landscape of tomorrow.

If only they, and everybody else too, would listen to me!  If only I, too, didn't suffer Cassandra's curse of nobody believing what I see coming ;)  So, I will instead quote someone who has some street creds:

Being more realistic about the role that college degrees play would help families and politicians make better choices. It could also help us appreciate the actual merits of a traditional broad-based education, often called a liberal-arts education, rather than trying to reduce everything to an economic cost-benefit analysis. “To be clear, the idea is not that there will be a big financial payoff to a liberal arts degree,” Cappelli writes. “It is that there is no guarantee of a payoff from very practical, work-based degrees either, yet that is all those degrees promise. For liberal arts, the claim is different and seems more accurate, that it will enrich your life and provide lessons that extend beyond any individual job. There are centuries of experience providing support for that notion.” 

Oh well ... nobody cares about all these anyway.  It is a strange world in which I find myself!

If I were feeling optimistic, I would be tempted to end this with one of the best final sentences ever: "After all, tomorrow is another day."  But then, as I peer into the future in which I see a whole lot of automation, artificial intelligence, and big data on every one of us--all of which I often blog about as well--another closing sentence appeals even more: "He loved Big Brother." ;)

Why am I thankful that my dream job did not happen?

When I was a kid, as it happens to most kids, I too was asked every once in a while "what do you want to do when you are older?"

One of my earliest aspirations was to become "an engine driver," which I have to translate for my American readers as a "locomotive engineer."  I loved trains; which kid doesn't!  Upon noticing that most engine drivers had on their heads handkerchiefs or small towels knotted in a way that held it in place, I tried to emulate that too.

I suppose my parents and the grandmothers and the aunts humored me with their comments, but I don't ever recall them telling me,  "what a great idea.  Yes, you can do it. Make that dream come true."

I am now older. I sometimes ask students what they want to do.  Or, those rare moments when a student comes to talk with me about career plans.  I encourage them and their ideas, however bizarre and strange they sometimes sound to my ears.  But, I add a whole bunch more that makes them aware of many aspects that they might have overlooked.  Because, I don't believe it is productive to merely tell young adults "you can be whatever you want to be."  It does not work that way.  I then might even provide them with evidence--from studies and news articles.  Of course, most students do not visit with me again after that and I wonder why!

It was, therefore, encouraging to read this essay with which I have nothing to disagree.  The author quotes Richard Bolles, who authored What color is your parachute?

Bolles bristles at the suggestion that he’s telling people to be ‘anything’ they want to be. ‘I hate the phrase,’ he says. ‘We need to say to people: Go for your dreams. Figure out what it is you most like to do, and then let’s talk about how realistically you can find some of that, or most of that, but maybe not all of that.’

Which is no different from what I tell youngsters.

The dangers are legion. Unrealistic plans lead to a waste of time and money. When a C‑student spins her wheels planning on medical school, other, more lucrative and realistic careers – say in business or education – fall by the wayside. And the ambition gap has led to increased dissatisfaction across working life.

Boy have I encountered students with expectations that simply did not match their abilities nor their work ethic.  It frustrates and worries me when faculty and staff continue to feed those false expectations instead of giving them a reality check.

At what point do we abandon possible for probable, and encourage our children to do the same?

When do you tell a kid, "son, you are not going to make it to the NFL. So, figure out something else."  Or "princess, I don't think you are the next Taylor Swift."

As parents, teachers, elders, we will be doing our children and youth a great disservice if we fail to provide them with such honest feedback.  Mere positive and wishful thinking won't do it.  I know it all too well; I am in the twilight of a mediocre career! ;)

So, any bottom-line?

‘[Adults] should say: be what you’re capable of,’ says Gwenyth, ‘not you could be anything. I’m not very good in dance. That’s like telling me I could be a professional dancer. No. No, I couldn’t be.’

Come to think of it, I am not at all capable of being an engine driver.  I am so thankful that I didn't try to become one!