Without thinking about it, consider the word ‘Surrender’ and notice how it feels:  the associations and connotations of the word. Does ‘surrender’ feel calm, even blissful? Or, does it bring feelings and visions of being overcome:  powerless and defeated? Surrender definitely implies giving-in to something; the end of a struggle of some kind; relenting; relaxing resistance; allowing something else to transpire.

pixels.com

Depending upon the opposing ‘forces’ that cause us to re-think our resistance, Surrender can in fact be heavenly. “Surrendering to Love,” for example. For many people, though, the idea of surrendering feels like giving-up; doing something that feels unnatural and maybe even scary. So it was when I began to release lifelong habits that no longer suit or serve me.

For most of my adult life I’ve been goal, and action-oriented. I was clear about my professional path early on, and driven to achieve in my accumulation of degrees, credentials, certificates and opportunities for advancement. A friend of mine recently remarked (we were discussing my doctoral program) “How ambitious you are! At your age!” My response – ignoring the urge to call-out ‘ageism’ by someone actually older than me – was casual:  “Oh, all I’m doing is just living life.” Right?  But then I began thinking about his words. It’s common for those closest to me to complain that I rarely “sit still” (not true); that I “over-do it” in the achievement realm (define, ‘over-doing it’, please). A teammate recently told me, “You do too much” (translation he confided: you make the rest of us look bad!).

bandcamp.com

I began considering my action-oriented life and allowed alternatives to seep into my current ways of thinking. Is ‘taking action’ always necessary? Clearly not. Non-stop action, as I’m sure many Readers know, is, among other things, a recipe for exhaustion. With day-to-day interactions — if someone close to us does something really offensive and obviously meant to cause hurt, is immediate action required? Not always. But how does one, whose entire life has been about Doing, slow down and surrender to Not Doing? It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve discovered how amazing and wonderful it can be. I started by realizing that the word Surrender has super-powers, if we allow it to expand past negative moments in our memories (“Surrender your passport!” being one of the worst in mine:  our PanAm flight was forced down, into Iran, many years ago, passports seized).

flickr.com

Surrendering to all that is beautiful, restful, nurturing and peaceful in Life means letting-go of control (an ongoing theme in my world). Surrendering to Whatever Is, and Will Be means that Trust becomes a guiding influence in Life. Trust: that one’s best efforts will be enough. Trust: that in the midst of chaos, there is Harmony (time spent in Nature and with animals is my proof). Action’s still a governing principle in my life and always will be; but I’ve reached a truce with Surrender by accepting that, at the end of the day, it’s On My Side.

Organizational Psychology consultants and coaches don’t have an exclusive ‘lock’ on what makes individuals and groups successful in a work setting. OPs learn and train in a variety of disciplines, including systems theory and the huge and complex field of individual and group psychology. Their conclusions and ultimate practices are evidence-based:  what appears to be effective, according to research and evaluation.

courtesy, wilsonquarterly.com

The concerns of most companies still revolve around The Bottom Line (profits), incorporating emergent needs such as  sustainability and global reach into the mix. Consultants and coaches (those who’re formally trained, by the way, not the Life Coach you might see advertising on YouTube) can analyze and create detailed recommendations relative to every aspect of an organization’s goals. But the human psychology behind success remains, at its core, really pretty simple. The research is clear:  people who are Happy generally feel and experience ‘success’ in their pursuits (personal or work related).  But people who may think of themselves as ‘successful’, or who may be regarded as such by others, are not always Happy. Readers may be thinking, Who Cares? Stay with me…

courtesy, isstockphoto

The need to feel Happy is a fundamentally-human condition. It’s almost autonomic, in that we go about pursuing Happiness almost without thinking about it.  It’s certainly tied to Abraham Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs:  being happy for some might be as basic as a full belly and safe place to sleep; or, it might be the Corner Office and a boost in an already-six-figure income. Organizational Psychology researchers, however, have reason (and research to back it up) to believe that Happiness has slightly less to do with external conditions or outcomes and much more to do with our internal wellbeing.

If our basic needs for food, shelter, safety, and a sense of belongingness (there’s Maslow again) have been assured, Happiness – the pursuit of it – takes a very interesting turn. According to extensive research, three conclusions emerge:  1) Happiness begins in the human heart; 2) Happiness is not overly influenced by such factors as genetics or random events; and 3) Happiness appears to have a set-point, for the majority of people.

There’s very good news for those of us that struggle with negative emotions from time to time. Happiness, the kind I’m talking about here, is in large part the ability to balance positive and negative feelings or emotions. Going overboard in either direction isn’t helpful. Furthermore, negative emotions, as it turns out, actually strengthen happiness by providing contrast (again, as long as we don’t allow ourselves to get ‘stuck’ in gloom).

courtesy, thoughtcatalog

One of the recent areas of Happiness study (targeting stress-related absenteesim) is Work-Life Balance. ‘Balance’ is unique to each individual. It’s something we strive for alone, in that we alone feel and understand our needs, our abilities and our limits, and our desires and aversions. The balance we achieve is up to us:  we flourish in it, or we suffer the adverse effects of neglecting our Inner World (mind, body, spirit). Short bursts of success (e.g., a winning lottery ticket) stimulate our happiness receptors, but are short-lived spikes).

Interestingly, the sense of inner balance that is the foundation of Happiness, turns out to have a “set-point”. A researcher by the name of Ed Diener developed a series of national (in the U.S.) and international studies of tens of thousands of people engaged in a wide variety of professions. Diener found that genuine Happiness is a sense of “subjective well-being”, not a response to external factors. Not only this, but, as we learn and grow through life’s experiences, Diener discovered that we encounter our own Happiness set-point:  the stage at which we often say to ourselves, “It’s time for a new experience (and new challenges)”.

courtesy, travelinphoto

So if deep and long-lasting Happiness is really more about our internal well-being, and so much less about The Chase (fill in the blank:  job, money, material possessions, relationships), then what’s to do? There’s no one-size-fits-all answer, since each and every one of us is engaged in our own Balancing Act. What I know for sure is that we can help one another along the way.  Heartfelt gestures, kind words of encouragement, and whatever version of Namaste (The Divine in Me Recognizes and Honors the Divine in You) suits our belief system grace both the giver and the receiver.

Yesterday morning I had a conversation with a colleague who has her own consulting business. We were discussing the difference between ‘coaching’ (as you might do, following an employee’s performance review), and ‘mentoring’ (which is more personally-supportive). Mentoring requires more of a relationship with the person that wants and needs help; coaching doesn’t. Even though the mentor may have ‘more’ of something (attributes) than the mentee, perhaps in terms of wisdom and experience, the relationship is definitely mutually- beneficial. Bottom line, as my colleague and I shared a laugh, a Mentor is like the old saying about a ‘wife’:  everybody needs one. A mentor gets to know you on a deeper level: understanding your goals and guiding you in your growth. Regardless of our stage in life, few of us would say that if the perfect mentor appeared, we’d say “Nah, I’m good!”

As I stepped out of the building where we’d been meeting, I ran into a young woman I’d met and spoken to just a little on another occasion, about her entry into graduate school, and – hopefully – her launch of a career. To use an expression that I’ve yet to replace (but won’t here, because it’s so very accurate), at our first encounter, she’d “picked my brain” about her personal concerns and professional options. It was a casual conversation-turned-deep that passed its expiry after about 30 minutes (I needed to be somewhere else). Yesterday, when I saw her again, I was a little relieved that she was talking to another young woman (both in their early 30’s I’d say). Nevertheless, as I waved ‘hello’ to “Eliza”, she drew me in and introduced me to “Amanda”. Both women were totally charming (in the way that boisterous little chicks can be, toward an old hen who just might decide to peck them to death). I tried to edge away after a polite amount of chat, but that was when Eliza remarked to Amanda how helpful I’d been as her mentor. (Wait, what?). Not going to escape just yet, I thought. So I pivoted slightly, turning back and responding to this gracious compliment.

As talking between the three of us went on, I took a quick mental side-trip (leaving the slight feeling of impatience behind) and just observed how well these two young women “clicked”:  they were both feeling over-whelmed with options, more than a little fear of the Great Unknown (neither had settled into relationships or careers), and a lot of excitement and optimism about their futures. While I listened to them, interjecting just a few comments when asked, I had a helpful – to me, personally – revelation:  when I’m around people in my own age-range, the conversations are remarkably the same, but then again different, in a super-sweet way.

At a certain point in time, if you’ve lived your life with enough awareness and attention, your mistakes and achievements create that ‘diamond’ we all want to be as we mature. Even if you’ve made a ton of mistakes in your life, if you’ve allowed those lessons to hone your brilliance, there’s a moment that you realize you are a diamond. Then, a really cool thing happens:  you stop aging. No; I know that sounds kooky, but here’s what I mean (and I know it’s true, because friends have told me they’ve had the same experience). First, a disclaimer:  you don’t really (can’t ever) stop the aging process, but you feel so complete in the knowledge of Who You Are that, even as you grow older on the outside, your Inner Being stays the same age you were when this transformation happened. If you’re younger, you might hear an older person say, “In my mind, I’m still 35”. They’re not crazy in this; they’re not stuck in the past – that’s how it really feels. And that’s how you approach new adventures and challenges…even while your old sports injuries are giving you grief !

What allows this amazing thing to happen? It’s up to each individual’s personal progress when it happens, but the way it happens is by Just Living Life fully, in the best way you know how. Even when Life feels like an unbearable weight; a struggle of confusion and heartbreak, you are making progress toward the transformation. How can you speed this whole thing up? By being as authentic as you can be, with yourself and with others. This means loving yourself “warts and all”; allowing others to experience the real person you are; not the one playing some kind of role you think is expected of you, or a role someone else has adopted.

Do you remember the 2009 film “Avatar”? If you didn’t see it, it might be tricky to understand the next few sentences here. There’s a scene where the lead character (Jake Sully) realizes that when he’s in Human/Na’vi hybrid mode (his mind enters the body of his Avatar), he has a key power that the human ‘Jake’ doesn’t have (besides being around 14 feet tall and bright blue, with a magic tail). Sully, as an Avatar, tells a fellow Na’Vi, “I See You”. The Na’Vi have the ability to meld with one another in a way that the human-Sully realizes and envies. It’s a loving, supportive and nourishing connection that the very independent human Jake reacts to (when his mind leaves the Avatar) like he has an emotional case of “the bends”. The film’s a total metaphor for the human experience in a lot of ways.

You might be living multiple roles in your daily life, and in your quiet moments wonder who your authentic self really is, aside from the roles you play and the tasks you perform. It’s not something anyone else can figure out or do for you. If you’re not there yet, you might feel frustration and impatience. Take comfort in the fact that there are mentors ‘out there’:  people who’ve gone through it and can help. Your mentor might be one of your friends, or someone you work with. Maybe you haven’t met them yet. But when you feel them say, I See You, it’s a moment on your path that you’ll never forget. Isn’t being truly “seen” what we all want, what we all need, to fully become who we’re meant to be? I’m grateful to have had this reminder yesterday.

I’ve been confronted by personal and professional jealousy my entire adult life (who knows why — I’ve always been pretty low-key about whatever assets I have). Not confronted directly, as in verbally, but informed by an organizational ‘rumor mill’; even when I was a relative newcomer (aka, ‘peon’) in the org. pecking order. Have I been jealous of other people? You bet. Jealous people are ones to keep an eye out for. Not all of them are like me, feeling quietly insecure, in my private moments, acting out these emotions through insomnia and obsessive worry. Some jealous people are assertively so – feeling the need to “take someone down” a notch or two. I’ve seen this in action more than a few times, in different organizational settings. I’ve felt this when I’ve been on the receiving end at work, and even within my own family.

Recently I was conducting a group interaction in a way that was less formal, more transformational for the participants. I was lucky to have a very experienced colleague observing how I handled myself with this group (I’ll always ask to be observed, if I have the option, when trying-out something new with teams). I also had onlookers who were taking notes, so as to be able to make informed comments in our de-brief. When the time came to do so (de-brief), I was amazed by the ‘mix’ in the feedback.  I use the word ‘amazed’ because I continue to marvel at how people in the psychological professions (a supposedly enlightened and more humanistic group, right?) can seem like experts at walking the tightrope between professional detachment and personal criticism; careful not to engage in what looks like score-keeping or one-upmanship; skilled with “left-handed compliments”. Turns out, I’d done well with my group that afternoon (per my experienced colleague) – too well, in the estimation of some, based on their ‘snark’ wrapped in‘recommendations’ for my improvement.

What causes people to act jealously? I believe, at its root, jealousy’s prompted by fear:  feeling  a need to competefor attention or resources, typically. If I don’t feel good enough (in whatever capacity you choose), I’m going also feel threatened in ways that are very primal:  hard to understand, hard to talk about, and hard to overcome.

What’s difficult for me to comprehend, is how common jealousy can be among my older, wiser female colleagues. It’s impossible to not feel the need, when someone is being so obvious about it, to reassure a jealous person through repeated acts of deference or humility:  “I don’t need to take the lead on ( project); go for it!” Or, “I’ve had lots of chances to speak at (event); I’ll be the note-taker and you can run the show!” No. With a jealous person, such “largesse” only increases the ire. Once, when I felt caught in a vortex of no-win exchanges with a deeply jealous woman (I think it was both personal and professional for her), I pulled a last-resort move. I was new to the organization (a negative); was hired from “outside” (another negative); younger, single (considered “on the prowl”); more educated, and more “worldly” in my experience. This was the Intel I gathered before I asked for a private conversation with this person who’d been trash-talking me behind the scenes since my hire.

My ‘last-resort’ is a personal conversation in these instances. Why is talking one-on-one a last resort? Because jealousy lives in a very tender place in a person’s being. It’s not an easy emotion to discuss; you can’t just call-out a person’s glaring insecurities. (Well, you can, but working with them afterwards will be hell for the entire team). The topic has to be approached sideways, with tact, diplomacy, discretion and gentleness. The end of this story is a happy one:  we became friends and the gossiping and back-stabbing stopped. Still, the more I engage with a larger circle of people over time, the Green Eyed Monster (origins, Shakespeare’s play “Othello”) continues to play a part. Attending to the jealousies of other people can be a bore and anxiety-producing. Each time I do it, however, I recognize in myself the fears we all cope with, at one time or another. On a purely pragmatic level,  I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am, to let jealous people highjack my progress.

The meaning and importance of human body language and facial expression has been under study for many decades in the fields of psychology, anthropology and sociology (and more).With the advent of artificial intelligence, the quest to imitate human traits such as interest, compassion, and concern within the “bodies” of artificial beings is intensifying. Non-verbal communication in our technology has expanded the options for conveying how we view ourselves and what we’re feeling, with customizable avatars and more diverse facial emojis. We’re pre-occupied with communicating how we feel, during any particular electronic conversation.

The human face is a marvel of muscles, full of possibilities for silent communication As humans, we recognize (from infancy!) the faces gazing down at us not only for their familiarity in our still-narrow world, but for the cues provided by facial expressions. As we grow older, the ability to intuit meaning and emotion from other people’s faces becomes a skill, honed by our many interactions. As any large-city dweller knows, situational awareness – including reading the faces of strangers as we pass on a street – can be helpful in avoiding a potential problem. Anyone who’s tried to communicate with a loved one in diminished capacity knows the power a smile has to say “I’m here and I love you.”

Knowing how powerfully our faces can telegraph our feelings, it continues to surprise me that, in a professional setting, so many of us (including older, wiser women) fail to deploy The Poker Face when it’s called-for. I was in a meeting this past weekend in which a group of professionals were being asked for input on a very thought-provoking topic. We were each taking turns expressing our views. The group consisted of a wide range of ages:  probably 30 to 50 year-olds. As a more “mature” woman began to speak in a slow, measured way, a younger group member (also a woman) sitting next to her interjected a quick, benign comment. It was instantly clear on the mature woman’s face that this action was highly unwelcome. She physically turned her body, so that she was facing the younger woman completely. The older woman said nothing, but stared directly at the face of the younger woman for what felt like a full 30 seconds. Since we were all in a roundtable configuration, everyone could see and feel the “daggers”. The younger woman did what I call the “belly-up, I’m feeling playful” thing that furry creatures do, to show deference or submission. She did this by breaking eye contact, smiling, looking down and away (not at the group, not wanting to see our reactions, I’m sure). The Speaker’s right to be heard (she did have ‘the floor’) was restored, but she’d also demonstrated dominance with the younger woman. At the very least, the older had ‘schooled’ the younger in ‘manners’ by staring her down. Was this necessary? Was this appropriate? The meeting went on, everyone anxious to get past this awkward ‘blip’.

The above happening triggered an embarrassing memory for me. I was meeting with about 20 board members and interested parties. One member in particular was really getting under my skin with his antagonistic questioning. I don’t recall the fullness of what my face did, but I know it included an eyeroll. I wanted that board member to know that I was fed-up with him. Most of the group ‘clocked’ this, and it was totally clear to me that I’d erred in not remaining stoic. The CEO spoke to me later, compassionately, but his advice was clear:  “You’ve got to develop your Poker Face”. Being younger, and being in Management, meant that I still believed that – when I was annoyed – it was “ok” for me to communicate that in my face. Obviously, I was too ‘green’ to fully think that faulty logic through to its conclusion:  the alienation of others in the room.

These days, we’re in a human communication atmosphere that allows for raw, reactive responses to perceived slights or outrages. Nevertheless, I’ve come to believe – through my own trial and error experiences of not being in control of my face – that The Poker Face is an under-appreciated and under-utilized strategy. In a professional or public setting, when emotions are high, being mindful (I know, that word is so over-used) of relaxing your face into a placid, peaceful expression can make what happens next more productive.

As women, I believe we need to recognize that we’re often more expressive with our emotions (pros and cons, there, for sure) than actually benefits us. The ultimate in precariousness is feeling the tears forming (anger, frustration), in a boardroom packed with men. It’s happened to me, and it’s not a memory that I cherish. Having said that, because we’re in touch with our emotions – a very good, and healthy thing – we are able to transform ourselves more quickly, through such moments, so that they become less frequent, then disappear altogether. That’s my goal, anyway.

Sending Love…

My interest in what I call My Tribal DNA has increased over time. Not the popular “Twenty-three-and-Me” kind of sleuthing we can do to determine our cultural lineage. No, I’m referring here to how my sense of Self was formed, based on the experiences sent to me, via the DNA of my ancestors. This is a huge area of scientific study: how things like wars, famine, migration, and exposure to violence and other traumas create changes in our gene pool. In many instances, this is done through words.

It definitely helps, when you’re trying to figure yourself out (focusing on reasons behind the negative stuff, usually) to have a basic idea of who your grandparents and great-grandparents were; where and how they lived; and the events they may have lived through. In a previous Post of mine, “Wait for Me…”, I shared a story about my maternal grandmother (born in 1898) who’d lost 7 siblings to the dominant illness of her time, tuberculosis. There are parallels, nowadays, for this kind of loss. But, other than my granny, I know of no one else in my biological tribe who’s lost seven immediate family members during the formative years of growing up. I can only imagine the deep pain, seeping into the remaining family members, quietly and gradually changing their internal biology. Words of hopelessness, and grief, uttered in hushed tones. Words of frustration and anger shouted to the heavens. “Why?!

The experiments of Dr. Masaru Emoto have offered proof, for years now, that thoughts and feelings affect physical reality. Emoto’s research has helped me understand how and why I’ve been so incredibly hard on myself for most of my life. I can’t summarize here (do justice to) these amazing studies of how spoken words affect water-crystal formation; hopefully, my Readers are already familiar with Emoto’s research. (If not, it’s really a worthwhile detour). The takeaway for me is that Words Have Extraordinary Power. More than I was ever taught through The Golden Rule; more so than I ever learned in psychology and leadership classes.

Growing up with negative words or too much critical analysis in the family can change a child’s physical chemistry (just as Emoto’s water crystals were affected by words like Love, and Hate). I don’t feel that my family, two or three generations back, were a bunch of mean and dysfunctional nut-jobs. But I can piece together how their conversations– their words and vocal tones – could well have been fearful, angry, sad, stressed and utterly confused. My ancestral family, based on my research, were emotionally-tough people; they had to be, just to be able to survive in times fraught with challenges and unwanted sacrifices. If I’d lost so many children, I’d be a complete “basket-case”. I can only imagine how they were able to get through that.

My strong ambition to achieve; my perfectionism; my self-criticism; my worry and fears; my sense of life being a ‘struggle’ – usually over-exaggerated – is clearly a part of my tribal DNA. I don’t offer this as an excuse, but an explanation for, and a way of understand, a lot of my “issues”. I also think of this imprinting (and its results in my life ) as a reason to try to change this emotional DNA in raising my own child, and through my contacts with other people (and their conversations).

Words don’t just nurture, encourage, diminish or debase on-the-spot (as in the instant-impact of social media). Harsh, or loving, words are also creating generational patterns of attitudes and behaviors across the globe. Bringing about change begins with my own understanding of the power I have to resist those words (The Critic) that cause me to be less than I know I can be. With others in my life (even my pets!), making sure that my words soothe, even when I’m tempted to “go off”, sends a ripple — I believe — of Hope into the world.

When I worked with extremely at-risk adolescents, the vast majority were growing up in emotionally and physically toxic environments. In a formal study I did, it was remarkable (and disheartening) how much yelling and verbal abuse occured daily in their lives. But, I also felt a resilience emanating from many of these kids; a determination to someday live in a way that was vastly different. Despite the verbal messages of, “You’re not smart enough to…” “You’ll never be more than you are right now (pregnant, under-educated and unemployed)”, these young people were already in the process of canceling-out the ability of such words to shape their futures.

Current reality may be very tough; we may be harrassing ourselves constantly with negative messages. If we choose to, however, we can begin to change outcomes by noticing and questioning where this stuff comes from. I remember a short blurb I began seeing in my college Psych classes, about the power of words and the temptation to use them recklessly: Is it True? Is it Kind? Is it Helpful? This little check-in can nip sabotaging self-talk right in the bud, before it takes root in our souls. It’s a slow process, but it feels so good when it becomes habit. And it will.

Conjure up the most desirable image of your dream house you can think of. Mine is by the beach: just about anywhere fairly close to the ocean would do. I can see the beauty of it, feel the calm and smell the sea. But — a house is just a house, no matter the location — if life all goes to hell.

Growing up— the youngest of three — my family was “middle class” but I always felt poor. Both of my parents were community college professors who scrimped constantly: shopping bulk and “warehouse” before warehouse was in vogue, always generic items, and only necessary staples. (All of our veggies and fruits were from our own back yard — an oddity at that time.) We never went hungry, but there were no luxuries. New clothes came from places like K-mart; our cars were old: out of style and convenience. If ever there was talk of buying a new appliance, the lecture began, “What’s wrong with the old one?” Even if the oven door had to be held closed with a strip of metal my father had screwed on it — the ultimate Survivalist Handyman.

None of this mattered in my childish perspective until it did — coinciding with our change of home just as I entered the 6th grade. Suddenly I lived in what was known as “the rich people’s part of town” (even though our house was actually small and funky-looking, compared to the artful and luxurious homes around it). I attended school with children of heart specialists, surgeons, lawyers, and wealthy ranchers. I knew in an instant, by looking at clothing, perfect hair and even makeup (in the 6th grade??), that I was an outsider. But, I fell into a girl-group that actually stayed intact until high school, when we all went to different colleges, chasing success, learning life lessons.

I never attended the announced high school reunions until — I think it was my 40th. I was so curious as to how these women, the childhood friends I’d been so envious of, were living their lives. I soon found out that my envy was completely unwarranted. “Barbara”, who’d always wanted children, had been in a horrific car accident which prevented her ever getting pregnant. She and her husband had chosen to adopt, but the child turned out to have significant behavioral problems (the home-wrecking kind). “Jackie”, a close friend of Barbara’s, had married for money (dropping out of college) and had recently come-out to her husband and children. Jackie told me she’d known she was a lesbian since high school but lacked the courage to reveal who she really was. She continued to live under the same roof as her husband for six years, having affairs as women appeared in her life. She was living in agony but was in a holding pattern. Jackie was also ostracized by her son after she came-out and was mourning not being invited to his wedding. As Jackie told me her story, she also told me that Barbara had actually — on top of everything else going on with her adopted son— fallen in love with a married man who had just dumped her claiming overwhelming guilt over the affair.

I came away from this high school reunion pretty much stunned by how things had turned out for my friends: two women who’d grown up with all the advantages wealth could provide. All of the competition, mean-girl bravado about who had more perks (a horse at the nearby stables, the promise of a posh summer camp every year, a second home at Pebble Beach ) was so irrelevant and stupid. On the long drive home from the country-club venue of the event, I repeated Gratitude mantras until my eyes became teary. I let myself enter into a full blown sob (brief, but cleansing) as I pulled into my own driveway. What a relief to be reminded that comparing ourselves to the progress and outcomes of others makes no sense at all. There’s always a story we can’t see, until it’s time to see it.