My personal Zen moment interviewing.......

I was going to write concerning the dire need for a comprehensive energy policy, and with Obama's concession to the Republican forces this week, am motivated to do so more than ever.

But I want to take an experience I had this week, bring one back from the past, and blend it into the thread of thought regarding our economy and quality jobs.

I worked in industry, specifically, manufacturing, and made a fair bit of money doing it. I left a job of which I was extremely fond because despite the wonderful work, my boss was abusive. After nine years, I found a suitable replacement and only lasted three years there, because much the same irresponsibility occurred as in the other small companies where I worked.

Due for a change, I visited a friend who was a former school board colleague to see what he thought I should do. He was working Human Resources in the School System we both served. I noticed on the wall a poster for a $1000 signing bonus for anyone who could teach in the field of Industry Technology. Since I had a degree in that field I mentioned it to him. Within a few hours, I had interviewed for a teaching position in our newest High School, and found out the very next day I could have the job if I wanted. In parallel, through Monster.com I was asked to interview for a job consulting with a company who had a position 70 miles away in Lynchburg, VA. In the consulting world this is gravy since travel was minimal and the pay extremely good.

So, given I had two job offers, a high-class problem looking back at it, what would I do? The consulting job paid more than three times the teaching job. I hated consulting so even the disparity was not the final decision factor. What finally drove my decision was this: I worked in industry for over 25 years, I had put forth several ideas for the curriculum, I had some training experience but was offered only the entry level salary as a first year teacher. Because I didn't fit the mold of a veteran "shop" teacher, I could get no credit for what I could bring to the table.

Fast forward to this week. I decided to apply to Home Depot to see if my multiple skills in the trades, wiring, plumbing, construction, etc. could be applied to helping others find the right tool, part, or material to do their project. It could be fun. Make a little money as well.

I applied on line through a series of questions and attitude tests to see if I had the proper mindset for retail. A call followed with a offer of an interview. I arrived early and scoped out the store to see the state of the department they mentioned in which I might work. I went to the office and met the Operations Manager who would conduct the interview.

We were about to launch into a structured interview, one that takes 45 minutes or so,when I asked if she had looked at the answers I provided on line. She told me they did not share this information with her. I asked a series of leading questions relating to pay, advancement, and reporting structure. Then I politely terminated the interview and left. She informed me there was no provision to start someone above their entry level salary, and the next monetary review was in 12 months. What they were offering was less then my step-daughter was offered with no experience at a well-known electronics retailer. One also should note this was a part-time position with no benefits (or benefits cost!). My Zen studies guided me through the emotions to a rapid calm.

Both these experiences have in common that the employer, rather than consider paying for quality employees, would do things by the book. Easier to deal with turnover than create quality well-paid positions.

Our economy is now significantly driven by the retail industry. The jobs generally pay poorly. They require no previous skills and if they are done right can be challenging (that is, dealing with the public). What I was offered would have netted me as little as $100/week. This is because between having my pay would have been taxed on top of my wife's, and the cost (plus time) of even the modest commute required.

My experience is not isolated. Several family members have suffered this route. We can not believe that this economy, based so much on this industry (if you can call it that)can be healthy, when the jobs are poorly paid, add no significant incentive for quality personnel, or add no real value. I am heartened each and every time I find a quality product made in this country, particularly when it is competitively priced. I recently bought some hard cases for use on my motorcycle and was thrilled at the quality, price and that they were made in the US.

I am not a raving protectionist, suggesting we cut off foreign imports to harbor poorly run industries. What I am suggesting is that we take the time to look at the long view. Make investment in industry that creates quality jobs. Pay people a living wage. Train them to add more value. Anything else is a losing proposition.

When I take on the energy issue, we will find one of the places to make that investment.

Zen and the Art of Listening

Listening is something about which I know nothing and everything. I know when people aren't listening to me (children being the prime example). But I am not sensitive enough when listening to others.

I learned something about listening today. A friend, for whom I have great respect, began to talk about golf. Anyone who knows me, knows my opinion about golf. I do not relate to the game, and have characterized it as akin to observing thin film on a surface curing. (The act of applying this thin film is another activity I rarely enjoy performing.)

To appreciate my friend's company on the outing we were taking, I reminded myself to be in the moment. To apply quality to this moment, and really listen to what he had to say. After I commented that I do not "get" golf, he said that he, too, did not in the beginning. As we discussed the game, I visualized the aspects of the challenge, and how one has to apply mental discipline to the sport. To keep your head down, listen for the sound of the club impacting the ball and only then follow the ball's trajectory.

I gained a new insight into the game by this listening exercise. Not just being polite, but hearing with open ears and open mind.

Karen Armstrong, in her book The Case for God, speaks about Socrates. She says that he believed "that without the spirited interchange of a human encounter written knowledge is static". He developed dialetic to "expose false beliefs and elicit truth". One gets the sense he used this interchange to know people as well, through listening as well as his interrogative method.

I think, in this country especially, we have completely lost the art of listening. It is evidenced by the divisiveness and lack of true dialog. As I read about our country's leaders trying to tackle issues, frequently compromise is used as a dirty word. As if listening to another's ideas and perhaps incorporating them into a solution is being criminal. Ironically, Socrates was not one for compromise. Facing trial and execution, Athenian authorities wanted him to simply leave but his steadfast refusal led to his demise. And perhaps, this was not a time for compromise.

The Zen path is helping me to listen. It is not itself one of the eight noble truths that Buddhism teaches. But it is definitely incorporated into right understanding and right mindfulness. The world is facing challenges unknown to us before; limited resources, exploding population, aging population, irreversible environmental damage. And on top of these, we face the random act of violence mother nature provides, such as earthquakes, with no provocation from humankind. Certainly if I can experience a moment appreciating the fine aspects of golf, through genuine listening, we all can take the time to start talking more productively about our problems. And come up with solutions. It takes opening our ears and opening our minds.

But don't expect me on the links too soon, there are motorcycles to ride.

Zen and Riding, Cooking and Being

I have been a motorcycle rider since I was 16 years old. The first bike was really a scooter and as I progressed to bigger machines, I got married and had kids. And like so many others, I gave up riding for concern I would be hurt and could not support the family. 20 years later, fresh off a divorce I rediscovered this lost love. For nine years I have been riding again and it always relaxes me and gives me pleasure.

After losing my job, I began a study of Zen to see if it could help cope with depression and "ground" me. I came to the section on meditation. I could not see myself sitting still and quieting my mind. But the book I am using as my guide, Zen Living, talks about walking meditation and eventually achieving that state constantly in your life. While riding in Kentucky on one of my trips late this summer, I was struck by the notion that I do know how to meditate, at least during one activity. For me, riding a motorcycle is Zen. It provides a focused, in-the-moment experience that clears my mind of the dukkha (suffering, dissatisfaction, fear) life so frequently provides us. I was meditating during my riding by focusing on the ride. It explains another aspect of my riding I could never quite understand. A lot of riders listen to music during the ride, to relieve boredom during long, uninteresting parts. I always found it distracting. And between picking quality rides, and the sheer fun of riding, I never felt the need for music. But more than that, it intruded into the Zen of the moment. The oneness with the ride.

With the coming of the winter of '09-'10 we receive the most snowfall on record. My lovely bikes (I have three) sit in the garage, hooked to the battery charger, like patients on life support. And I am, too, like a patient needing life support. Trying to be a good house husband, I began relieving my working wife of the burden of the house work. I started by cleaning the kitchen. Then doing grocery shopping. Finally, it stuck me! Try cooking.

Having been raised by a mother whose idea of good cooking was roasting a chicken until it was desiccated, I have no role model to emulate. But now being a veteran of watching hundreds of episodes of cooking shows, I am armed with techniques, philosophy and, thanks to the Spanish chef José Andrés, love of the gelatinous mass inside a tomato.

I started in my usual way, amassing ingredients, reading the recipe, rushing into the fray. And the results were.....OK. No culinary disasters. As I gained some confidence, I realized that perhaps some Zen need to be applied. I forced myself to relax and focus on the moment. I watched sauces thicken, onions go from white to translucent, to caramelized. I read internet recipes trying to decide on the right approach from each, as almost none agreed to ingredients. I applied some management techniques to make the dinner arrive at the table all together. Using the critical path method, I determined the longest item, and approximate completion time, and then staggered the other elements back from that so my potatoes would be ready to mash, not too soon before the chicken was done. The cooking become more enjoyable, less stressful and far more successful.

As with my approach to vehicle maintenance, I use the tools I own, not purchasing anything extra unless I am significantly hampered by its lack. This is Zen, also. The tactile feel of the tools, using them creatively, not desiring the latest, greatest gadget (the Second Noble Truth of Buddhism is suffering is caused by desire) are part of the creative process of cooking. And with ingredients it is much the same. I have tried to follow recipes to the letter. But where I am lacking an ingredient, I choose the best substitute I can, usually with the help of internet advice. I let go the idea things need to be exactly as written, because tastes, cultures, and availability of items all have contributed to the millions of recipes that exist.

The cooking experience, even more than the motorcycle riding, has contributed to a real sense of being for me. One can share a ride (although one's spouse may not be happy not in control), but it is not a complete experience unless you ride your own ride. Cooking's result is shared, and even the creation can be, as well. Watching others consume the results, good or bad, connects you with others. And that is an important aspect I am trying to achieve.

An introduction

Robert Pirsig's book has lead to other books, articles, various jokes, and catch phrases based on the line: Zen and the Art of...........

In the beginning of the book, he claims that it is not about Zen, nor motorcycle maintenance. I have read it three times. Sometimes I believe I understand what he was trying to present. Sometimes it is elusive.

I think it does talk about Zen concepts, and certainly covers some motorcycle maintenance.

In July, 2009 I was lost my job through a series of interesting events perpetrated by others including bankruptcy, greed, mismanagement and unethical behavior. I was escorted by a deputy sheriff through, by my choice, the back door of the building to become free of the military industrial complex.

I began my "retirement" by working in the hot sun of summer rebuilding my deck, then a bathroom, fixing household items, starting to learn to cook, and serving as house husband. In between I have ridden my motorcycle or if the weather does not permit, my truck to Chicago to visit my family, and other points around the Mid-West and South.

I began an inquiry into Judaism, and then Zen. I admit this not a spiritual pursuit, just an intellectual one. I am trying to understand others appreciation for these two areas, one because of my heritage, the other to try and relieve depression in a less than chemically adjusted manner.

In the next entries to this blog I am going to comment on many things I am learning. Or ones I have learned from years in industry. Or ones that come from other life experiences. The labels I have chosen for this post are mostly the subjects areas I will be presenting or pondering.