This morning I was running late, so I grabbed the bundle of mail in my letterbox on my way out the door and just shoved it into my bag without a glance. Now I sat in my office and opened the top envelope. I felt a brief pang of anxiety as I unfolded the letter. It was the final invoice from the funeral home.
My grandmother was an amazing woman. Her energy was infectious. She was sweet but could also be a bit manipulative, though not in a bad way. She just always knew how to get her way, and even into her eighties nothing got past her. A life well lived had come full circle with this acknowledgement from the funeral home. A strange final step in a life that would live on now only in our memories.
My favourite memory of her was how she loved to dance, and she was really good at it. I was always jealous about that. Iāve never really felt comfortable cutting loose on the dance floor. I imagine that being able to dance really well must be the best feeling in the world.
Thoughts of my grandmother cutting up the dance floor were interrupted by a rap on my office door. It was our receptionist telling me that my 9 oāclock appointment had arrived.
Her name was Georgia and I was to interview her for a job as an external consultant to help us improve our productivity. Honestly, with family and funeral still uppermost in my mind, I really wasnāt prepared for this meeting. I planned just to question her around what she did and how she thought she could help us. I guess I was winging it.
Georgia, wearing a tailored wool navy suit over a bright white shirt, exuded a sense of calm confidence. Her warm smile quickly melted the awkwardness that usually accompanies meetings between strangers. She seemed comfortable in herself, conveying a sense of knowing without a hint of arrogance. It was good.
I began to tell her about our organisation, and she listened intently. She asked if she could take a few notes and was soon writing furiously, then she stopped abruptly. I was making a point about the distractions our people were exposed to. It was something I often thought about. I tried hard to keep everyone away from office politics, game playing and general distractions. I was concerned that all this noise reduced their focus and attention.
āTell me about the noise in your organisation. What is it exactly that distracts your people?ā she asked.
I thought about it for a beat. I didnāt mean it in a critical way, necessarily. It just struck me that people were often a bit scattered. There is so much to pay attention to today. The truth was I too often felt distracted, by my phone, relentless email pop-up alerts, text messages, social media ā all competing to send me off target. As I thought about it, I realised how easy it is to feel like you are āmissing outā if you are not always connected. Missing out on what Iām not sure, but definitely missing out.
āWell,ā I replied, āI suppose I think thereās simply so much going on that sometimes itās overwhelming for everyone. Itās not that the team have bad intent. Most of them show up every day set on doing a great job. I just worry that they lose focus on what is really important.ā
As I heard myself speak, it struck home how bothered I was by this lack of focus. Personally, I often wasnāt nearly as focused as I should be. For my team, I know they are distracted. Recently politics in the organisation had reared its ugly head and taken a lot of people off their game.
āI understand,ā she said, and somehow I felt she did. āThatās really what Iām here for. What I do is help organisations work out the stumbling blocks that undermine their productivity.ā
I looked at her and was convinced at that moment that she was going to know exactly what she was talking about. But I wasnāt quite ready to think about my own lack of productivity this morning, and I thought a change of scenery might help me focus on this conversation.
āLook, I havenāt had a coffee this morning. What say we get out of this office and head downstairs? Thereās a great cafĆ© on the corner and we can talk about distraction, stumbling blocks and how we might do things better around here.ā
She smiled and agreed. I grabbed my bag and my wallet and we walked towards the elevator.
āIām sorry, Georgia. I actually am a bit distracted this morning,ā I said wryly, all too aware of the irony given our conversation. āMy grandmother died last week. Her funeral was on the weekend and I was literally looking at the paperwork when you arrived. So I have to admit that I havenāt done my homework on you. Maybe we could sort of start this meeting again?ā
āOkay,ā she said. āIām sorry about your grandmother.ā
āWell, you know, itās not generally something that arouses a lot of sympathy. I mean, she was old, right? Thereās nothing surprising about an old person passing away. She had a spark, though, you know? A real spark. And itās like a light has been put out. Itās probably not always like that with old people. Sometimes maybe the light goes out long before the end, but it was different with her. The light was still lit; it was on, right to the end. So when it did go out, well, there was a loss there.ā
As the elevator reached the ground floor I realised I was sharing a lot with this person I had only just met. I felt a twinge of embarrassment, but then I made eye contact with her. She seemed okay with it, and it came to me in that moment that I had no one to talk to about this stuff.
āShe sounds like an amazing woman. It doesnāt matter what age people are when they leave our lives. It still hurts. We love them.ā
We walked out into the buzzing Melbourne CBD, pulling our jackets close as the cold wind whipped around the building. In the cafĆ© we chose a table near the window, perfect for people watching. The trendy cafĆ© was loaded with character, and with ācharactersā. The sun streamed in, just clipping our table and lighting Georgiaās face as she smiled again.
āSo, Will,ā she began. āThanks for seeing me. Itās clear you had a tough weekend and you were thrown this 9 oāclock meeting to start your week. Iād be happy to reschedule if you want.ā
āNo, not at all. Look, Georgia, you come highly recommended. So now we are here, tell me about yourself. What is your story?ā
āHa!ā she replied. āMy story? Well, letās see. Youāve opened up to me this morning, Will, so Iām going to do something I wouldnāt normally do in an initial business meeting. Iāll give you some background on why I do what I do.ā
āGreat,ā I said. āThis is my style. Letās lay it out on the table!ā
āOkay. Well, I was always someone who wanted to be there for other people. As a young girl, I was the one my parents relied on, and my friends too. I was probably a bit of a people pleaser, not that thatās such a bad thing. I liked to make sure other people were okay and happy.ā
āSounds good to me.ā
āYes and no. As a young adult, this same need to be there for everyone else showed up in my work. I have always been a perfectionist too, and Iād get a little obsessed about everything having to be just so. I would work hard to make sure everything was right and everyone was happy with my work. Mostly, this was a good thing. It meant I did good work, met deadlines and mostly got along with everyone.ā
āA perfect employee,ā I declared.
She smiled. āMaybe, but I also spent a lot of time focusing on things that, in the grand scheme of things, were really not that important. I became so obsessed with the little things in certain situations that I sometimes missed what was really important.ā
āRight. Itās easy to do. I think we all do it at times.ā
āIt is. The problem was I often felt guilty when I couldnāt get everything done perfectly. Iād get distracted over some detail that really shouldnāt have been my focus, then Iād feel frustrated when the big picture wasnāt working out the way I wanted it to.ā
As Georgia was speaking, I couldnāt help but think of all the parts of my life that I might be managing better. I knew I wasnāt handling things perfectly and I definitely felt guilty about not being in better control.
āI wanted to eliminate this feeling of guilt when I couldnāt be perfect,ā she continued. āThatās what it came down to. And I learned the valuable lesson that trying to be perfect holds us all back from having an outstanding life.
āI mean, I did all the things that society told me I was supposed to do. I was a very lucky woman. I had a good job, met a great man, got married and had two wonderful children. I was juggling all of those things and was busier than I had ever been. I was trying to manage work, a home life, personal time, friends and trying to keep healthy and fit.ā
āI donāt think Iām doing any of those things as well as I could be. This really strikes a chord with me, Georgia. I sometimes feel guilty about not making the most of all of those situations.ā
āExactly,ā she said. āSo one day I was listening to some of my co-workers talking. One was feeling guilty because she was working late and not spending enough time with her kids. Another said she felt bad because she didnāt have enough time to go to the gym. Yet another said she felt conscience-stricken because she had not been following her diet. Then it hit me. No more guilt!ā
āHow do you mean?ā I asked, unable to imagine how that could be possible.
She pulled in her chair, centred herself and began. āI became really fascinated with the concept of guilt. I learned that most people feel guilty about most aspects of their lives. Working with a lot of women, I was shocked by how many were struggling to be a corporate hotshot, the perfect mother, a wonderful partner, and a fit, healthy and attractive woman, while still finding time for themselves. It doesnāt work.
āI mean, we live in a world in which women are expected to be all things to all people. So many women I knew were working late and feeling guilty about not being home. Feeling like they werenāt doing a good enough job for their kids. Yet when they left work early to pick up the kids, they felt guilty for not spending extra time at work.
āOf course,ā she went on, āmost working women also feel guilty about not being a good enoug...