slow down culture

got this from a friend…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

An interesting reflection: SLOW DOWN CULTURE
It’s been 18 years since I joined Volvo, a Swedish company. Working for them has proven to be an interesting experience. Any project here takes 2 years to be finalized, even if the idea is simple and brilliant. It’s a rule.

Globalize processes have caused in us (all over the world) a general sense of searching for immediate results. Therefore, we have come to posses a need to see immediate results. This contrasts greatly with the slow movements of the Swedish. They, on the other hand, debate, debate, debate, hold x quantity of meetings and work with a slowdown scheme. At the end, this always yields better results.

Said in another words:

1. Sweden is about the size of San Pablo, a state in Brazil.

2. Sweden has 2 million inhabitants.

3. Stockholm, has 500,000 people.

4. Volvo, Escania, Ericsson, Electrolux, Nokia are some of its renowned companies. Volvo supplies the NASA.

The first time I was in Sweden, one of my colleagues picked me up at the hotel every morning. It was September, bit cold and snowy. We would arrive early at the company and he would park far away from the entrance (2000 employees drive their car to work). The first day, I didn’t say anything, either the second or third. One morning I asked, “Do you have a fixed parking space? I’ve noticed we park far from the entrance even when there are no other cars in the lot.” To which he replied, “Since we’re here early we’ll have time to walk, and whoever gets in late will be late and need a place closer to the door. Don’t you think? Imagine my face.

Nowadays, there’s a movement in Europe name Slow Food. This movement establishes that people should eat and drink slowly, with enough time to taste their food, spend time with the family, friends, without rushing.

Slow Food is against its counterpart: the spirit of Fast Food and what it stands for as a lifestyle. Slow Food is the basis for a bigger movement called Slow Europe, as mentioned by Business Week.

Basically, the movement questions the sense of “hurry” and “craziness” generated by globalization, fueled by the desire of “having in quantity” (life status) versus “having with quality”, “life quality” or the “quality
of being”. French people, even though they work 35 hours per week, are more productive than Americans or British. Germans have established 28.8 hour workweeks and have seen their productivity been driven up by 20%.

This slow attitude has brought forth the US’s attention, pupils of the fast and the “do it now!”.

This no-rush attitude doesn’t represent doing less or having a lower productivity. It means working and doing things with greater quality, productivity, perfection, with attention to detail and less stress. It means
reestablishing family values, friends, free and leisure time. Taking the “now”, present and concrete, versus the “global”, undefined and anonymous. It means taking humans’ essential values, the simplicity of living.

It stands for a less coercive work environment, more happy, lighter and more productive where humans enjoy doing what they know best how to do.

It’s time to stop and think on how companies need to develop serious quality with no-rush that will increase productivity and the quality of products and services, without losing the essence of spirit.

In the movie, Scent of a Woman, there’s a scene where Al Pacino asks a girl to dance and she replies, “I can’t, my boyfriend will be here any minute now”. To which Al responds, “A life is lived in an instant”. Then they dance to a tango.

Many of us live our lives running behind time, but we only reach it when we die of a heart attack or in a car accident rushing to be on time.

Others are so anxious of living the future that they forget to live the present, which is the only time that truly exists. We all have equal time throughout the world. No one has more or less. The difference lies in how each one of us does with our time. We need to live each moment. As John Lennon said, “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans”.

Congratulations for reading till the end of this message. There are many who will have stopped in the middle so as not to waste time in this globalized world.

*~credits to the author~*

coffee cup

got this email from my officemate.  i especially like the last part…

*~*~*~*~*~*

A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got together to visit their old university professor. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life. Offering his guests coffee, the professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups – porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite – telling them to help themselves to the coffee.When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand, the professorsaid: “If you noticed, all the nice looking expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. Be assured that the cup itself adds no quality to the coffee. In most cases it is just more expensive and in some cases even hides what we drink. What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups…And then you began eyeing each other’s cups.

Now consider this: Life is the coffee; the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, and the type of cup we have does not define, nor change the quality of Life we live. Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee God has provided us.” God brews the coffee, not the cups….. Enjoy your coffee!

“The happiest people don’t have the best of everything. They just make the best of everything.”

my previous life

 

My Previous Life
By Gayle Sorensen Stringer

     In my previous life, before I was reincarnated as a mother of three, I wore clothes that fit and matched.  I wore makeup and curled my hair every day.  I had my eyebrows waxed and my nails done.  But no one gave me graham cracker kisses.  No one ever told me how pretty I look in sweats.
     In my previous life, I read Time magazine and the newspaper.  My repartee of regular television viewing transcended Arthur and The Magic School Bus, and I devoured all the bestselling novels.  But no one asked me to read The Velveteen Rabbit at bedtime.  No one ever requested The Little Engine that Could.
     In my previous life, I had a career and friends who were more than three feet tall.  People asked for my opinions and entrusted me with important projects and confidential information.  I had conversations where not once was mentioned snacks or potties or play dates.  But no one asked me my favorite color or why the sky is so blue.  No one ever wanted me to sing.
     In my previous life, I had a life.  I frequented aerobics classes, restaurants and the theater.  I hosted parties where the themes had nothing to do with Star Wars or Winnie-the-Pooh.  I shopped for myself and slept late on weekends.  But no one made me Valentine cards.  No one ever gave me dandelion bouquets.
     In my previous life, I traveled, and my destinations did not hinge on theme parks or swimming pools or nap schedules.  The Mayan ruins of the Yucatan, snorkeling in the Caribbean, museum hopping in Italy, Kabuki Theater in Japan . . . these were my playgrounds.  I was the queen of the road and my destiny.  But no one asked me to push the swing higher.  No one ever invited me to splash in puddles or roll in the snow.
     In my previous life, I held my emotions in check.  I did not stomp my feet or grit my teeth.  I could not easily be diminished to tears or tirades.  I considered my demeanor as laid-back and easygoing.  But, no one made me care enough to cry.  No one ever just loved me, anyway.
     In my previous life, I was free.  I could carve my own path and follow my dreams.  Nothing stood in my way.  But the path was unsure and the vision blurred.  No one ever gave me purpose enough to soar.  Now, I endlessly rearrange piles of laundry, crumbs and toys.  I am pulled and tugged, hassled and harassed, stepped on and sat upon, and desperate for some solitude.  I am jean-clad and juice-stained, bleary-eyed and graying, underpaid and overwhelmed.  And, sometimes I wonder who I am and what I’ve become.  Then, one of my children shouts, “Mommy, I need you!” and it is perfectly clear.
     I am the center of the Universe.  I am MOM.