But it's a dry heat

Cracked sediment found in a canal spillway

I made this above photograph of dried and cracked sediment settled at the bottom of a canal spillway on my trip last weekend to Yuma, Ariz. From my perspective, it's dry land. Pure and simple. But to the viewer who's never seen anything like this before in person, he might not relate to that. It might seem hard to picture. Instead, it might look like what one person told me he thought it looked like, "the aerial view" of a town from the inside of a plane. Yeah, it could be that, too. Why not?  It sounds nicer, doesn't it. And if you look at the photograph with that idea in mind, you can actually see what he sees.

Perspective. It's what you make of things. If you can turn what might seem like a negative to some into your own positive, wouldn't that make adapting much easier? In that way, you might not see this photograph an illustration of what the heat of the desert really does to dry land. You might understand why the people who live here insist, "But it's a dry heat."

It's a dry heat?

If you've never heard this phrase before, that may be because you've never been to Arizona where the phrase is used to deflect the truth about the weather during summers here. Truth be told: it's H-O-T. Yeah, really hot!

If you live here, you learn to accept it. And I suppose, in a sense, it's true. It is a dry heat. That dry heat helps 115-degree August afternoons seem less daunting. The weather's dry because of the low humidity. You don't seem to sweat much because what you do sweat evaporates so quickly. You don't really experience that stickiness you'd feel if you lived in West Palm Beach, Fla., for example. I lived there one summer, and I didn't like that sticky feeling at all. It actually was kind of disgusting to me, while other people I know would remark, "But it's so good for your skin." Perhaps. And I'm guessing this dry heat where I live has a lot to do with my dry, cracked skin. But at least I don't sweat.

So, see, it is about perspective, isn't it?

Life, in general, is like that.

We learn to adapt to uncomfortable surroundings, people and situations because we adopt our own unique perspectives about them.

"It's a dry heat" makes living in the heat of the summers in Arizona more bearable for the year-round residents. But it doesn't change the minds of our winter visitors who will only visit during the winters, when otherwise back home they'd have to deal with their snow storms and icy roads. They don't like that, so they come here where it's warmer. They happily spend their winter days outdoors instead of huddling indoors out of the cold.

Perspective. It's what you make of things.

Think of a time when you used perspective as a way to deal with something discomforting in your life...

Were you able to... 1) see change as a positive or... 2) look at the less serious nature of the situation? Perhaps you needed to... 3) shift your attitude about a project you didn't really want to take part in but knew you could learn something new if you did. Maybe your situation called for you to take a... 4) step back and see the bigger picture rather than a more limited view that might have been keeping you stuck. Perhaps you needed to... 5) seek input from others in order to move forward.

If you're in the midst of your own "search for a new perspective" now, can you think of something to add to these five steps that would make that process go easier for you? If so, post a comment and enlighten us about it here.    

When perspective matters

As we stood near the cottonwoods on a dirt trail, bordering a wide creek bed, I laughed at what I saw as my boyfriend's weak attempt to let loose in the wilderness.

In our khaki hiking shorts, our tank tops and boots, backpacks filled with water bottles and snacks, sweating in what was turning into a mid-day summer sun, my boyfriend and I were hiking in Sycamore Canyon (a wilderness area in central Arizona's Verde Valley) when we arrived at a wide clearing. The sun beamed over our heads as we walked into the open space to see Sycamore Creek off to the left, the continuing trail about 50 feet ahead. The water looked so inviting, and I was so thrilled to be out there that I ran out into the center of the clearing and yelled up into the sky.

"AHHHHHH!"

Raising my arms, I yelled again, even louder, "AHHHHHHHHH!" It felt good to release that energy. So I turned around and urged my boyfriend to do the same. But he nodded his head.

"C'mon," I told him, "Just let loose." But he wasn't having it.

Me, intending to convince him, kept prodding him until he finally cried out in the tiniest voice, "ah."

We hadn't yet walked a mile, but it was as if he had no energy. "ah." Just like that. No rebel yell. No excitement. Nothing but a little half-hearted peep.

"Is that it? Is that all you've got?"

He looked at me as though he couldn't understand.

I wanted more. I wanted him to feel what I was feeling. Out there in the wilderness, visiting this place I'd never seen before, anticipating the long walk ahead, not knowing what we'd see, I felt a freedom and excitement. I wanted him to feel it, too.

"Are you kidding? C'mon. Give it all you got. Yell as loud as you can. Just for fun." Please!"

I'm pretty sure I saw an eye roll before he turned away from me, so I didn't think I'd worked my charm. But all of a sudden, I heard it.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

He yelled so loud and so long, I jumped back; he'd startled me.

Then, he just stopped and said quietly, "You can expect the black bears to come after us now."

What?

Oh, he was just joking. But this is bear country, and I hadn't thought of that. I just wanted him to yell, to relax. I hadn't thought we'd be disturbing nature by yelling out into the wilderness. I just wanted to have fun.

I hadn't considered a different perspective.

But that's what I'm thinking about this week as I deal with a client's dissatisfaction with my work. It happens. We can't please everyone. And sometimes we take jobs for the wrong reasons, or sometimes we agree to work with someone but the fit doesn't quite match. I wanted more from this job than the client did. I thought the job required more work than he really wanted. Truth is, it was his perspective that mattered here, not mine. And my approach caused a disconnect. I wasn't happy because I was frustrated with how much work was involved. He wasn't happy because I was taking too long. And neither of us were really communicating that.

So how can I avoid this in the future? I'm thinking pre-questionnaire, longer initial interview, avoid e-mail communication and stick to the phone. I'm thinking there must be a solution to deal with what might be an uncomfortable situation at first that is sure to turn into worse later.

So I polled Twitter to see what other writers like me might do in order to approach a client that turns out not to be the right fit.

Heather Boerner says she has a simple solution. She just gets too "busy" and raises her rates to scare them away. But you might not want to try that while you're working with them. So Alycia de Mesa thinks including a cancellation clause in the written contract is a good idea.

Because we own our own mistakes here, we take responsibility for our own choices, and we are learning to be accountable, I'm certainly not upset with my client for reclaiming his work. I think I might have done the same thing if I were in his place. In fact, I might have done it sooner! And, thankfully, I learned a few lessons to pass along to you:

Consider the enjoyment factor
If you're in business for yourself, you get to pick and choose the projects you take on. That's your luxury. If you agree to do a job, and it becomes something you don't enjoy, you should first make the most of it. Complete it as best you can. Don't put it off. Get it off your schedule sooner, rather than later. But if the project becomes difficult to manage in some way, it's best to pick up the phone and talk to the client to discuss how you should proceed. Chances are, if you're not happy, the client's probably not happy, and you can agree to part ways amicably.

Pay attention to perspective
When you agree to do a job for someone else, make sure you're clear about what they want. Can you deliver that? There may be good reason why they want something less than what you think they need. So make sure you can separate yourself enough from the job, recognizing it's not yours. Unless they're hiring your for your consulting services, you must provide only what they're asking for--even if your best advice tells you the job needs more.

If you've ever worked with a client who doesn't seem to be the right fit, or if the work turns out to be nothing more than struggle after struggle, what's your perfect solution? Is it possible to reach the same level of perspective before you sever the ties? What's worked well for you?

Serenity Prayer--the original

When I look at the photo above, I see a beautiful pasture in front of me. With mountains in the distance and all the green and blue shades, it's a very serene-looking view. Actually, it's a golf course in Tubac, Ariz., but the lodgepole fence makes me think of it differently. If you saw this particular place in person, you might feel the serenity as well. It's a peaceful spot, with a lot of history that has more to do with horses and cattle than it does golf. Tubac, in fact, is Arizona's oldest European settlement, as I recall reading.

As I looked at this photo today, it reminded me of the Serenity Prayer, a four-line stanza I can never quite remember exactly. So I looked it up on Google this morning. To my surprise, I discovered the serenity prayer I thought I knew at least part of wasn't even half of what it really is in its entirety. I didn't know, till today, that there is more to this prayer.

So, here it is, in its entire and original form, the prayer as it was written by Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971)...

"The Serenity Prayer"

God, give us grace to accept with serenity

the things that cannot be changed,

Courage to change the things which should be changed,

and the Wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.
Living one day at a time,

Enjoying one moment at a time,

Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,

Taking, as Jesus did,

This sinful world as it is,

Not as I would have it,

Trusting that You will make all things right,

If I surrender to Your will,

So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,

And supremely happy with You forever in the next.
Amen.

Today, I needed this reminder. If you are ever in need of the same, here it is. Take time to reflect on these words. They can and will make a difference in your perspective.

All my best,

Jackie