Zip Line

The open bed truck hauling a dozen tourists and half a dozen "Tico" guides lurched and bounced along the rocky mountain road. Dust from the road settled on the tropical vegetation on the driver's side and hung in open space on the other side like a cartoon character waiting for the inevitable fall. The passenger side boasted the cliche drop off into a deep jungle ravine.

I was told that there are only two tropical dry forests in the world. I have not been able to verify that information; but I can say that this was certainly tropical and dry.

The truck rumbled under the shade of a tree occupied with howling monkeys.

Grinding to a stop at the top of a mountain overlooking the Pacific Ocean, the lean Tico guides leapt to the ground offering their assistance to the anxious tourists. Cameras snapped pictures. My wife asked about the holes in the ground. Tarantula holes. She backed away.

We hiked several hundred yards to a higher point. Rocks slipped under our feet and the sun reminded us to be thankful that we were not shoveling snow in Minnesota. VERY thankful.

At the top an 800 foot cable stretched across a deep ravine swallowed up by trees in the distance. One of the tourists said, "I'm not going. No way." Another said, "So cool." Another was just silent. Cameras snapped, monkeys howled, spiders hid, tourists pondered falling and the guides strapped harnesses onto our dust covered bodies.

Brief instructions were given with enough hints of danger to make the adrenalin do warm up exercises. A guide hooked himself onto the cable and pushed off into the vast expanse calling out to the vultures flying BELOW him.

One by one we were launched. The show-offs, the nervous Nellies, the screamer, the coolies, the President of the Argentinian Safe Company, . . . until it was my turn.

Strapped in and hooked up I looked at a makeshift sign nailed to a tree: "No turning back now." Guess not. A strong Tico hand gave me a push and the next thing I knew I was airborne soaring hundreds of feet over forest tree tops.

Nice.

We zipped sixteen sections of cable for a total of over 5 miles. By the time we were attached to the fifth cable the Screamer was no longer screaming; instead she was bragging about keeping her eyes open and flapping her arms like a bird. A new found level of comfort.

The Argentinian Safe Company president was "double zipping" with his wife.

The show-off got stuck in the middle and had to be rescued. LOL.

Everyone was laughing, comparing "Did you see?" moments, trying new techniques . . . having fun.

Boy, it feels good to laugh. All the stress and concerns and to-dos had fallen off into the jungle somewhere below us. We made new friends. The wind blew off the dust. We shed our clothes to jump into a jungle river. We swapped zip line stories like we had all gone on separate trips. A guide jumped out from a hiding place wearing a gorilla mask. We screamed and laughed and punched each other.

That evening sitting on the balcony listening to the sounds of creatures without faces I sipped a Costa Rican iced tea and thanked the Maker of Jungles that life is a whole lot more than making the next sale, organizing the next file, and answering the next call.

I mean, did you go into business to get trapped by it and ruin your fun? Probably not. So who's in charge? You or your business?

If it's been awhile since you took a leap just for fun, what's holding you back?

Get refreshed. Get recharged. The office can wait.

fritzed

Fritzed is the word of choice in my family to describe what it's like when life and responsibilities get overwhelming. This past weekend I have heard it a lot.

Dictionary.com says that "fritz" is of obscure origin — possibly coming from the theater. Drama. That sounds about right. Maybe the stage show on that particular day when the phrase was coined headlined an actor named Fritz. He had too many lines to memorize, too many directives being thrown at him by too many people, too many things going on at home, too many critics scrutinizing his every move, . . . and then it happened. He collapsed on the stage. The audience gasped. The corners of the critics mouths curled up fiendishly.

On the front page of the paper the next day a journalist coined the phrase "fritzed out."

Sounds about right. Well, that's my take on it since the origin of the word is "obscure." (Maybe I will post that in wikipedia. After I get my other things done.)

When work and life get dramatic and you feel like you are fritzing out, what do you do?

I mean apart from letting someone be the recipient of some choice words. Or heading out to your favorite watering hole. How do you un-fritz?

1. Step back. It is part of my daily discipline to step back. This is my perspective time of the day when I warm up my motor, assess the lay of the land, and make sure I'm ready for whatever snowballs are going to be hurled at me. But when the unexpected assault begins, I have to mentally make the choice to "step back" and get perspective before I do something that I will regret.
2. (Re)assess. Here's one image of what it means to reassess: I am standing in the middle of my workroom facing all my tools and jars of nails and bottles of glue. Envisioning what I am trying to build, I gather together the tools I need to make it happen. Do I need to call on the glue of my people skills? Is it time to take out the hammer of persuasion? What would happen if I used the screwdriver? One huge help in assessing is being able to implement an objective ear to help me see things clearly before proceeding.
3. (Re)engage. As much as I would like to retreat to an island in the Bahamas for a looooonnnnngggg time, I do have to engage with the matters at hand. The good news is that having stepped back and reassessed the situation, I can engage from a position of strength and control. 

I don't know if Fritz had the opportunity to step back, reassess and re-engage during an intermission or scene change. But maybe if he had, "fritzed out" might have an entirely different meaning.

Compelled

A powerful or irresistible effect; influence.

Now there's something I'd like to have in my back pocket. A compelling message-product-service that would cause people to line up and drop money into my checking account!

*****

I remember a story from my Sunday School days of a man who walked through a field and discovered a treasure. Until he found the treasure the plot of land was just some undeveloped real estate - a field of dirt, rocks, worthless trees and bugs.

When I lived in Spain I used to drive away from the city and park my car and go walking out in the Castillian landscape filled with rocks, dirt, scrub trees . . . and sheep droppings. Worthless for most people but for me that barren landscape held value because that's where I could go to retreat from the noise of the "to-dos" and take time to focus. I did a lot of conversating out there with my own thoughts and the Maker of barren fields. But I never hopped back in my car to return home without having made some kind of decision. It might have been a decision about someone I had to talk to, something I had to purchase, a move I had to make, or a course of action that had to be implemented.

Fields have value according to the user.

So the guy from the Sunday School story might have been wandering in the field for similar reasons. Why else would you go out kicking around the dirt and rocks? Apparently he already owned enough stuff to make a life and take some time off. I think he was probably basically happy. After his morning cup of tea he announced to his wife, "I'm going for a walk. See you when I get home."

Out walking in the sun, enjoying the horizon, poking around with a stick until he was interrupted by a hidden something. Brushing away the dirt revealed something he did not already have and once he saw it, he realized he was missing something.

That's when he made a decision that altered his future. Returning home he set about selling everything he owned and approached the owner of the field. "I'd like to buy your field."

The old landowner probably had an interesting conversation. All the intricacies and nuances of bartering and negotiation with his mouth saying, "What field?" and his head thinking, "Oh? How come?" Long story short, he sells. "You want that plot of land, it will cost you." The wanderer walks away and the former land owner with a twinkle in his eye relishes in the deal he just sealed.

But it was the wanderer who found the greater value that the field held and the power it had to alter his life.

****

In a recent coaching workshop the question turned to Our Greatest Talents and how those Talents turned into money in the checking account. These astute professionals seized the moment and turned the tables on me. They asked me about My Talent. What was it? What do people say about their coach?

I tried to change the subject and move on. Nuthin' doin'. They insisted that I say something. *sigh*

"When I have the opportunity to sit down with professionals and business owners I do a lot of listening and a little talking. You all know that. But one thing I invariably hear from everyone is 'That's a good question.' And then I can see their gears turning and their thoughts processing. I know a decision is about to be born."

Around the room a chorus of "Yes, that's what you do" affirmed what we all already knew.

Coaching sessions are like a field. Useless for a lot of people who choose not to go there. But for those who make the choice to break away and focus, the treasure the coach brings is the power of the Question. The Question combined with the owner's desire to see good change in their business and life is powerful. The results are empowering decisions that alter the future.

For those who experience it, it is compelling.

****

What is it that makes your product-service-message compelling to your audience?

Look at your calendar: When is your next scheduled breakaway for "treasure hunting"?