Is this work, if I write about a fundraising crime?

I was actually reading a showbiz publication,  Hollywood stuff, and wound up reading the case study of a philanthropy in crisis. 

That link takes you to a news story about a fundraiser that the organizers admit they threw together in less than two weeks, and yet they have the audacity to call out, by name, Steven Spielberg and Angelina Jolie for not being accounted for at this event.  It would probably take two weeks to get a message to either of them, much less engage their money machinery to produce a contribution.  And yet they are being publicly criticized for failure to respond to a call they may never have heard.

I can’t tell you how many fundraising pitches I’ve received, or ideas other people have for nonprofit work, containing a list of celebrities or high-profile wealth holders who “should” give to that charity. 

Who wants to be told what they “should” do with their own money?  Does anyone really think public shaming is the way to initiate a relationship with a donor?  Oops.  That is starting to sound more like “work” and less like “imagining how people try to get to Angelina Jolie.”

One of  the greatest joys of my sabbatical so far  has been the freedom from any feeling of “should” and detachment from other people’s expectations.

I see now that I can and must take this freedom and detachment with me at the end of the sabbatical.

I’ve tried to remember when I first heard about Jerry Seinfeld and The Chain .  This much I do know: I had planned to start a number of Seinfeld-inspired chains on January 1, 2010, and I’m pleased that some of them are unbroken.

There’s another theory that could be a corollary of  The Chain.  Author Malcom Gladwell says you’ve got to put 10,000 hours  into any sustained effort in order to produce master-level results.

I’m not intentionally racking up mastery hours (they’re a bonus) but I’m finding The Chain to be a very satisfying discipline in this year of abandoning my usual disciplines.

I’m a member of the Women Donors Network .  Today, one of the members posted that Compass Point  link on our confidential listserv that I shared with you earlier here .  It’s the study showing nonprofit executives who take sabbaticals are better at their jobs when they return to work.

But she added something else, and I want to share that with you.  Every two years, the Durfee Foundation  offers up to six people the opportunity to receive a $35,000 stipend for a sabbatical .  There are a lot of conditions  – the biggest one is that you’ve got to be a nonprofit exec for an organization headquartered in Los Angeles County.

Even if you don’t qualify for this particular program, perhaps the fact that it exists will inspire you to seek out previously unimagined sources of support for your sabbatical.

And now, back to mine.

Yes, I know, it’s almost the end of Day 14.  I’m not responding to artificial deadlines this year.

When  TED Community Director Tom Rielly  invited The Harnisch Foundation to be a founding sponsor of the TED Fellows  program, we signed on immediately.  The TED Fellows are some of the most extraordinary people in the world. As a group, they become a palpable force, like a life form.  As individuals, one story is more jaw-dropping than the next, each personality magnetic and memorable.

My longtime personal coach, Renee Freedman , is also a TEDster.  She and I decided to create a pro bono program   to offer TED Fellows ten sessions with a world-class professional coach whose skills match their needs.

One of my sabbatical activities: first responder when a TED Fellow expresses interest in coaching.

I’ve been writing the TED Fellows immediately  when they contact us. I was imposing this pressure on myself, and it didn’t feel in keeping with the spirit of sabbatical.  I want to respect my sabbatical boundaries and eliminate as many work obligations and pressures as possible.  Renee told me she doesn’t promise or intend to respond immediately – her window is 48 hours. “I travel a great deal and I have a very full calendar,” she said.  “I don’t want anyone to expect that I will be able to respond any sooner than 48 hours. If I can, I do, but my promise is 48 hours.”

Further, I was creating a cycle of expectation that could only create disappointment if I don’t respond instantly in the future, or if anyone else connected with SupporTED doesn’t answer within minutes.  Renee’s right: it is not reasonable for a volunteer-run organization to respond immediately to the email of dozens of fellows and coaches around the world.  ”We will get back to people within 48 hours,” she said. “That’s a reasonable expectation which we can meet. ”

Wow!  How freeing!  That was so easy. Set up reasonable response times.  Maybe you, too, push yourself too hard to respond too quickly, setting up unreasonable expectations for future performance.

S0, attention TED Fellows: we strive to respond within 48 hours of your email.  Everybody else: no promises.

We’ve been talking about reinvention of one’s self from an intentional perspective.  But what if you had no choice in the matter? (Samantha Who?) 

The entertainer Barbara Mandrell  is a case in point.  My (late) first husband worked for her in the 1970s.  I learned a lot about show business – and life – from Barbara and her family.

She had one of the most successful county-music careers in America – hit records, big road shows, network television variety show, movies – she did it all.  But after a traumatic automobile accident, she didn’t.

The person who was at the wheel was Barbara Mandrell, entertainer extraordinaire.  The person who emerged from the head injury was – well, somebody else.  You can read about it in her book Get To The Heart .

Millions of people lose part of their personality/self through traumatic injury, drugs, or other maladies. You might slip away one day, too.  In another few years, Alzheimer’s Disease is expected to become the number one health problem.

When I was a reporter, I interviewed a woman who was an activist campaigning for the rights of what she called “people who are differently abled.”  She didn’t like the word “disabled” and she hated “handicapped,” and she told me we are ALL “temporarily abled.”  She said that most of us will, at some time in our lives, need to use crutches, a walker, a wheelchair, a hearing aid, or something else that is usually thought of as help for the disabled.  “So you’re temporarily abled,” she said.

That concept keeps me aware that everything about me, personality included, is temporary.  While I have the privilege of  conscious reinvention, I’m going to take advantage of that opportunity.   How about you?

I used to take money to talk – on the radio, on television, on stage. 

These days, I don’t talk much, and during my sabbatical, I’m talking even less.  I am conscious of opportunities for silence, and I embrace them. I turn off the television, the speaker on the computer, and switch the phone to DND (Do Not Disturb). 

It’s amazing what can be heard in “silence.”

This is why some religious orders keep silence, of course, and many people enjoy going on “silent retreat” weekends.  I’m glad many of you are communicating with me silently – I appreciate your comments!  Kerryn Griffiths* told me about the mini-sabbatical experiences that she and a partner offer in Australia .  At these retreats, the website says,  ”silence is held until lunchtime” each day and if you decide to refrain from talking even when silence is broken, that decision will be respected and supported.

 What a relief it is not to be expected to speak!  For a little while, at least.

People of a certain age will remember the summer of 1980 when Larry Hagman  was the hottest celebrity in the USA. At the height of frenzy surrounding this cultural obsession , I emceed one of his public appearances. Someone tore my dress trying to fight past me to get to him – that’s how crazy it was.

Even then, when he was at the top of his earning power, he kept silence one day every week, usually Sunday.  It was his discipline. What he learned about himself and others in the silence was priceless to him, and not for sale. He wasn’t fanatical and he could adjust – that’s why “usually” Sunday. But he didn’t like to sell his silent time. The bigger he got, the bigger his benefit from the silence.

I started writing this note on silence last week, and I didn’t finish it – but I’m glad, because in the meantime, I saw a tweet from Andrea J. Lee quoting someone else: “Never miss a good chance to shut up,” along with the acronym WAIT – “Why Am I Talking?”

So today I invite you to join me as I notice  silence, appreciate it, and create it. I will go longer periods of time without speaking. And when I do open my mouth, I’ll ask myself: WAIT – Why Am I Talking?  Does what I have to say improve upon the silence ?

Shhhhhh (Sabbatical In Progress)

*Kerryn Griffiths is a contractor of The Harnisch Foundation.

Did you see Julie and Julia ?

I enjoyed so many things about that movie, but mostly, I like the true-life success stories of Julia Child and Julie Powell .

Their triumphs were all the more remarkable because each woman started at the bottom of the field where she found her fame.

Julia Child took cooking classes, collaborated on a book, and the rest was culinary, broadcast, and cultural history.  Julie Powell decided to cook every recipe in Child’s classic tome Mastering the Art of French Cooking  in one year and blog about it. The rest is publishing and movie history, as the blog became a book and the book became a movie starring Meryl Streep.

These were life-altering miracles, made possible because the women were willing to try something new and they were willing to fail. They were willing to feel incompetent.

Once upon a time, a professional athlete asked me to teach him the basics of calligraphy  so he could practice while he was away at training. He told me he used training time every year to learn something new. I thought it was such a good idea that I was inspired – the next time I took a solo vacation, I taught myself to juggle  while I was gone.

I’m avoiding commitments this year, but I’m open to the possibility of learning a new skill or gaining knowledge in another field.  In my usual life, it would feel too frivolous and wasteful to take up something unrelated to my vocation.  But during a sabbatical? It’s what’s expected!

So – I’m going to keep my eyes open for opportunities to do something completely different, even if (especially if?) I’ll be incompetent at the beginning. What have you always wanted to learn or attempt? Is there a baby step or a one-time-only experience you could schedule?

Why wait?

If you have decided to join me on sabbatical (please do, even if you can only stay for a minute), here’s today’s coaching tip for making the most of the time away from your usual routine.  I got this one from my sister Carol several decades ago.

She was an artist, and worked alongside other artists doing interesting and creative projects for a major theme park. They did their colorful work on the park grounds – in a dreary, windowless structure that resembled a boxcar.  Sometimes the industrial setting felt oppressive. Carol had a solution.

She brought a big floppy hat to work, and announced: “When I’m wearing this hat, I’m in the Bahamas, and nobody tell me I’m not.”  So she sketched and painted “in the Bahamas” sometimes, right there in the middle of the boxcar.

I used that idea to take mini-vacations anywhere, any time. To a floppy hat,  I added a dab of Coppertone under my nose to replicate what I would smell if I were really at the beach, and to complete the sensory experience, a boom box with a cassette (I told you it was decades ago) of ocean sounds.

During this sabbatical year, I’m taking a cue from the Coppertone.  I am putting a little drop of lavender oil in a container near my bed, so that unmistakable fragrance will remind me that I’m not waking up to my usual routine.

Maybe you, too,  would like to choose a fragrance that will signify “I’m on sabbatical,” even if your time away from business as usual can only be a few moments.  When you inhale the aroma that you’ve chosen to mark your sabbatical territory, you will know what I know: I am in a different place right now, and nobody can tell me I’m not.

When I mentioned I’m on one, some people began telling me of their fabulous sabbaticals, and nearly everybody else told me how much they want one.

So take one! Why not, even if you can only stay for a minute? 

Yesterday, I told you the most important step in getting to take a sabbatical: plan for it.  Schedule it, make appropriate arrangements, and take it.  Commit to doing the difficult work of letting go of something in order to create the time and space for your sabbatical. Within appropriate boundaries for you, quit, postpone, say no to, delegate, share, or in some other way offload an activity that would prevent you from taking the time.

Maybe today you could choose a specific period of time you will call your sabbatical.  It could be a number of minutes per day, or a day, or whatever would work for you. Commit to that time. What would you do if you were taking a whole year?  Start doing that.  Or do something else. Or do absolutely nothing. 

If you commit to your sabbatical as I committed to mine, honor the time by making note of it. By the end of the year, you may find that you gave yourself a surprisingly long sabbatical!  

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to doing nothing.  I’m not very good at it yet so I need to keep practicing.

Kids had chores, and were expected to exercise some creativity, ingenuity, and enterprise to earn their own money.  I can’t remember when I wasn’t busy.  I usually had more than one job – even in high school, I was working at a radio station and a newspaper.  I have always worked, seldom taken vacation or days off, and there were many years when I worked seven days a week, as many as 20 hours a day.

I just quit.

I’m on sabbatical as of this day, and for the first time in my life, I have delegated almost all of my professional obligations to trusted colleagues.  There’s some business I wasn’t able to wrap up before 2009 ended, and I’ll make sure that’s done.  I’ll go to conferences and other special events – Sundance Film Festival and TED2010 are next, followed by a Women Moving Millions event that features a Dinner Party with Judy Chicago. (If you are a woman of a certain age, this news probably triggered a hot flash.)

Last year, our priest, the Reverend Bernadette Sullivan, took a sabbatical from her duties.  When I told her I had thought of taking a sabbatical, but something always came up to prevent it, she said, “And something always will unless you put it in the calendar and begin planning for it.”  So I did.  And now it’s here.

Which is my first coaching tip for you in the New Year:  Something will always get in the way of what you want, unless you make a commitment and take action. 

I made a commitment to myself to take some time – for the first time in my life – to consciously do nothing.  I am going to try not to try.  My first yoga teacher used to try to impress upon me the importance of not “efforting” in the poses.  “It’s very difficult for overachievers to simply let the yoga happen, to not work hard,” she said. “They want to do it really well, and so they try hard, and a person who is trying hard is not doing yoga well.”  Hey, I resemble that remark.

So, I’m consciously ceasing effort.  One way I prepared for this was to start cancelling subscriptions, RSS feeds, and other time-sucking materials.  My electronic inbox isn’t as full, Mount To-Be-Read looks conquerable, and I don’t miss the information overload. 

If you’re wishing you, too, could go on sabbatical, why not enjoy a mini-respite along with me?  Stop doing something, or several things.  Look around your life and see what you can just plain quit, or delegate, or postpone, or share.  Choose one and get started on your own journey of renewal.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and do nothing.