Leave less life on the table

When I was 22 years old I moved from Maryland to Georgia with only a back seat full of clothes, $1500 cash, and my beloved Optonica stereo receiver. It was the kind of old school stereo that had a big round knob that would float left and right until you found the station you wanted. If you were a couple of notches off, you heard only static and noise. But… a couple of notches to the left or right, and… there! Music. The music was always there, in the air; you just couldn’t hear it until you were tuned in to the proper frequency.

Look around. Today’s world has a tendency to pull most of us a little off frequency. And it’s not pulling us to go slower; it’s usually pulling us a little faster than we’re naturally wired. That may be OK for a while, but if you listen closely you’ll see that this collective off-frequency pull is sounding a lot like noise and static. And because everyone seems to be doing it, this noise is becoming the new normal. It’s a sort of frenetic busy-ness that you can see everywhere, and it’s becoming harder to hear the music of the individual—the unique frequency that each of us were created to contribute.

Your own unique frequency is important because it’s the part you’re meant to play in this life. You could spend years trying to uncover that frequency by deeply studying presence and mindfulness, but most people I know just aren’t going to do that. So I want to share a sort of short cut with you—a way to quickly tune into your proper frequency. I call this proper frequency the Periphery, because it’s always there, just outside of our usual focus, and if we can just avert our eyes from the routine every-day busy-ness around us for a moment, we can discover a new existence with more color and richness, even if we make no other major changes in our actions.

Here’s a disclaimer: you’re going to think this method is too simplistic, too easy, and you’re going to want to overthink it. Don’t. Just try it. Some of my executive coaching clients are ridiculously busy, driven corporate types, and they’ve seen amazing results when they just take this first simple step.

I call this method intentional motion, or sometimes I call it by it’s nickname: Two Notches Slower. It’s based on the idea that since we are generally inclined to rush, we decide to move our physical bodies with more intention and purpose. It feels a lot like going two notches slower. Why not one notch? That just feels sluggish and irritating. You’ll want to pick up the pace. But when you move at something approximating two notches slower, something changes. A signal is sent to your psyche that says that you have slid from the passenger seat of your life over into the driver’s seat, and that you’re now back in control. This is a physiological act that has quick psychological effect. As Anthony Robbins has always been fond of saying: “Emotion is a function of motion.”

In practice, here’s what it may look like: You’re walking with confidence and at a measured pace of your own choosing, unlike many of the people around you. You’re reaching for your drinking glass intentionally, grasping it and feeling the texture and weight of it in your hand, and when you lift it to your lips, you’re not just taking a drink—you’re replenishing your body. You’re conscious of what it feels like to quench your thirst. When you sit or rise from your chair, you do so with careful intention and purpose, you’re not just getting up or plopping down. When you get into your car, you take a moment and prepare for the drive, turning off the radio until you decide exactly what you want to listen to, if anything. In general, you're cognizant of everything you're doing, and even the seemingly insignificant moments of your day will have greater meaning because you're now paying greater attention to them.

Now, for those of you do-ers out there that are hyperventilating at the thought of slowing your body, listen carefully: speed is not the enemy. Rushing is the enemy. Rushing is a function of victimization; it means you feel like you’re being pushed and scuttled about in a hurried way. Speed, on the other hand, is a decision that in-frequency, calm people can and should make when it makes sense. Speed should have a beginning and it should have an ending. I call these bursts of intentional speed “sprints.” More on that in my next post. In a sense, you’re moving you body slower than most people and faster than most people; it’s just that you’re aware of when you’re choosing each and why. You’re purposeful about your frequency.

A friend of mine participates in half-marathons, despite having a bad back that can’t take the punishment of running. And yet he finishes among the mid-pack of runners. How? He walks with purpose for level and uphill terrain, and he sprints on his toes during every downhill opportunity. He’s purposeful about his strategy, and it works brilliantly. WE can do the same thing with our everyday lives.

The key to finding the Periphery—where even the seemingly insignificant moments of our day have greater meaning—is to be mindful, present and intentional in how you move your physical self. And never to rush. The easiest way to do that is through measured, intentional physical movement. Two notches slower.

Try it.

P.S. - If you have a really hard time with this, you’ve just learned something about yourself. And I submit that you’re someone who could see the most benefit if you stick with it.