I fly to work these days, or I simply connect to the Internet. Those are the two ways that I go to work. Honestly I much prefer the Internet mode of travel. Currently on a flight from hell with 9 screaming recalcitrant children surrounding me, the whole plane is shaking with the volume and pitch of their screams. In the old country, my mother would state, that "these children are begging for a spanking" but of course having consequences to our actions is not allowed in the modern world, but that is a blog for a different day (btw, these are 2 year old or older children, not infants, and that is a big difference to me).
The Internet is a much friendlier and more peaceful route to make my way to work each day. However, there is much to be said for face to physical face chats and good meals, smells, stories, hanging out, cigars, drinks, laughter, sharing of burdens and struggles, celebrations of the good stuff, etc, etc that simply rarely happen in the virtual meetings online, no matter how good the connection, and no matter how painless the "travel" of getting there. It seems that a balanced mixture of both is required to maximize the leader/developmental dynamic that I am seeking to find.
But right now, I just want to find either some noise-destruction headphones, or help 9 little children go into a deep sleep. I finally understand the whole rationale for adult communities in Florida and other retirement centers - my capacity for endless mindless shrieking unhappy children is almost at zero.
AND the fun did not end once I arrived in Vienna at the airport. I arrived on concourse F. My connecting flight leaves from concourse F, exactly three gates down from my arrival gate. However in typical aviation paranoia I can't just go down the concourse three gates. Even though I got off a secure airplane into a secure airport, with only secure hand baggage, I STILL had to go through passport control and customs AND another full security cycle, in order to make this huge circle in the airport and end up right back where I started. While I enjoyed the walk and the chance to stretch my legs, the purposes of doing so, were only irritating and unnecessary, not much different than 9 screaming children. Oh, and for the record, the second flight has at least one screaming child too. It is simply that kind of day I guess. Let's make the best of it somehow.
When days go like this one, the best way to get back on track is to ask the three "closet-cleaning questions" from the book Essentialism: do I love this? Do I look great in this? And do I wear it often? Translated into my professional world, do I love my work? Is it my best contribution? And is it meaningful and significant? Oh yes! Screaming bambino's be damned!
