Stress Management and the Art of Being

I sat down to write this article today and I experienced a bit of a block – which, ironically, caused me some stress. And as I struggled with how to formulate the topic, I began to think about the process of writing itself, and how it might feel to actually ‘be a writer’ – to derive great natural enjoyment from being immersed in the process; easily getting into a state of ‘flow’. As I pondered on this I just began to type my thoughts about it (which I’ve actually saved elsewhere, likely to become the base of another article).

What was interesting thing to me, though, is that what I wrote actually seemed to ‘pour out of me’ as I was imagining and describing the process of spontaneous writing. In other words, I found myself in a ‘state of flow’ as I imagined what a state of flow might be like. The process wasn’t my typical labored, “type-backspace-retype-cut-and-paste-until-I’m-happy” method. And there was no stress involved.

So my original intent for this article was to highlight the virtues of learning to “just be” sometimes, as opposed to always having to “do” – but through this process I realized that ‘being’ and ‘doing’ aren’t necessarily exclusive ideas. And so the understanding I’d like to share is this:

The first piece is that it is important to learn to just ‘be’ sometimes (if we don’t normally make the effort to do so). We can easily get caught up in all the things we need to do, and rationalize to ourselves and others why we can’t take a break. Granted, there are certainly times when it’s not realistic to stop what we’re doing – but how often do we fool ourselves into thinking that this is always the case? It helps to examine our assumptions about this, and ask ourselves if things really will fall apart if we just stop for awhile.

We can also ask ourselves honestly if there are other reasons for our perpetual motion: perhaps it’s uncomfortable to be alone with our thoughts. Or perhaps we feel a sense of guilt when we’re not contributing. Or maybe we simply haven’t learned to be any other way. The point is that we need to reexamine where we can give ourselves the time and space sometimes to regenerate and just contemplate about nothing – and learn to trust that it’s okay to do so.

The second thought is that if you truly are a “doer” (and you’ve established that you’re not avoiding anything or perpetuating any false rationalizations by always “doing”), then perhaps try doing more things from a state of just “being” – in other words, where you can experience that sense of flow. Try doing something with your family just for the sake of spending time: really ‘being there’ with them without ruminating over the tasks you have to accomplish today. Go for a run and ‘get lost in your thoughts’ along the way. Hit the highway for a day-trip to nowhere. Write something just for fun…

Affording the Right Level of Autonomy

How much autonomy is appropriate to give? Empowering our children, employees, or anyone we’re leading is, we know, the best way to improve satisfaction, motivation, and commitment – but it also takes the right style and balance to pull it off successfully.

Do you tend to micromanage others: monitoring even the most routine tasks to ensure success (even if it’s done in the most gentle, people-friendly way)? Or do you allow others to express their creativity, make their own decisions, and learn from trial and error? Or do you do a bit of both, depending on the person and circumstance?

Chances are your answer is the latter: that’s what most of tend to do as leaders, and it’s probably the right thing. This is where our intuition comes in: we adjust our style based on what we see, what we know, and how we feel – as well as how we perceive the weight and probability of the potential outcomes.

But we all know people who micromanage when it’s unnecessary, as well as those who tend to give full rein when it might be inappropriate to do so.

So why might we micromanage when it’s not necessary? Often times it’s because we haven’t learned to trust – or because we don’t feel we can handle the stress inherent in ‘letting go’. And why might we give unbridled freedom when it may not be appropriate? It’s usually because we have blind spots: because we have too much faith either in others’ abilities to respond adaptively; or in the system or task itself to provide the structures and cues to keep behaviours in check.

Whether our belief system generally supports a more or less autocratic, participative, or free-rein style of leadership is largely a matter of personality and habit: preferred and comfortable ways of leading based upon our past experiences – either directly or through observation – and the interpretations we’ve made about those experiences.

The truth is that what’s needed in any given situation is more objective than subjective. It’s the interplay between the complexity and characteristics of the task itself, and the interpersonal styles, habits, and skills of the people we’re leading. The key is to observe these dynamics in play before jumping to an automatic style of leading the situation and players.

If we learn to provide more ‘management’ where it is needed, and to back off where we should, we allow others to experience increased feelings of efficacy and success – which strengthen the internal reward system that fosters motivation. Appropriate levels of autonomy also support and enable more effective skill development, critical thought, and innovation.