I woke up this morning at 4:30 AM to find my hotel bill slipped under my door with a note that said "Thanks for staying with us - please leave your key in your room!" I marveled then, as I have for the past two days, about how the entire hospitality industry has designed itself for business travel. But as I got on the plane this morning and was catching up on emails and articles, I read this Penelope Trunk piece that resonated with me about being lost.
I am feeling lost. Maybe not completely lost. But at least a little. I've had some big conversations over the past three months. I've been pushed to a lot of limits. I'm still figuring out what all of it means in the context of my work and my life. To be fair, my work is my life. And I'm not complaining. I genuinely like what I do, both in the office and outside of it. We are lucky if we have work that is both meaningful and challenging to a manageable capacity. I find meaning in what I do, and I am challenged by it (some days, more than others).
Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I drove to a restaurant and asked for a table for one. I made it a point to not have a single telephone conversation through my entire meal (Greg, I promise, I really didn't). I wanted to focus on the silence, on my own thoughts and how I would interact with my environment. More than myself, though, I was baffled with the ease that the waitstaff handled the situation.
It's amazing to me that the entire hospitality industry operates on two modes - family travel and business travel. As someone who traveled with my family a lot as a child, I never understood (or had any visibility into) how things are designed for business. Anyone who has spent an appreciable amount of time on business trips - both alone and with coworkers - can appreciate this. From the time I checked into my flight (online), dropped my bag off, went through security at Hartsfield, got on the plane, landed in Manchester, picked my bag up, rented a car, and checked into my hotel, I spent maybe 6 and a half minutes talking to someone.
Business travel is about making things faster. And the way to make things faster is to automate. It's the culture of business, translated into the culture of hospitality. To check out of my hotel or return my rental car, I didn't need to talk to anyone at all. Which is fine, at 6 AM, when I'm barely functional anyway, but still remarkable. I'm not sure that I want that culture to dominate my life. So I need to reevaluate my work being my life.
Traveling alone for business is so transient. There's nothing, except well-documented American Express bills, to remind people that you were there. There's so little interaction between people. It's kind of disconcerting, the fleeting nature of it all. Yesterday's experiment at lunch was a good learning experience in how I deal with being in social situations alone. But it was a more powerful reminder that we are social people, and we need interaction to be grounded and un-lost. It's hard to feel grounded when the culture of business takes over your life.
One of the things that I do when I travel is take pictures of my feet. I started a few years ago, in 2007, to focus my camera when I had multiple focal distances I was shooting. I used to post the pictures with the caption "I was here." Over time, through long trips and short ones, I've started doing it to ground myself - literally. So here's my shot from Manchester, NH this morning.
So here's my attempt at un-lost, for now. I write. I take pictures of my feet. I try new things. I make the flight attendant take the banana from my breakfast tray away. And I admit to myself that while maybe I can handle eating lunch alone, I'll call my coworkers when I get back to the office and make some Amici plans.
I am feeling lost. Maybe not completely lost. But at least a little. I've had some big conversations over the past three months. I've been pushed to a lot of limits. I'm still figuring out what all of it means in the context of my work and my life. To be fair, my work is my life. And I'm not complaining. I genuinely like what I do, both in the office and outside of it. We are lucky if we have work that is both meaningful and challenging to a manageable capacity. I find meaning in what I do, and I am challenged by it (some days, more than others).
Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I drove to a restaurant and asked for a table for one. I made it a point to not have a single telephone conversation through my entire meal (Greg, I promise, I really didn't). I wanted to focus on the silence, on my own thoughts and how I would interact with my environment. More than myself, though, I was baffled with the ease that the waitstaff handled the situation.
It's amazing to me that the entire hospitality industry operates on two modes - family travel and business travel. As someone who traveled with my family a lot as a child, I never understood (or had any visibility into) how things are designed for business. Anyone who has spent an appreciable amount of time on business trips - both alone and with coworkers - can appreciate this. From the time I checked into my flight (online), dropped my bag off, went through security at Hartsfield, got on the plane, landed in Manchester, picked my bag up, rented a car, and checked into my hotel, I spent maybe 6 and a half minutes talking to someone.
Business travel is about making things faster. And the way to make things faster is to automate. It's the culture of business, translated into the culture of hospitality. To check out of my hotel or return my rental car, I didn't need to talk to anyone at all. Which is fine, at 6 AM, when I'm barely functional anyway, but still remarkable. I'm not sure that I want that culture to dominate my life. So I need to reevaluate my work being my life.
Traveling alone for business is so transient. There's nothing, except well-documented American Express bills, to remind people that you were there. There's so little interaction between people. It's kind of disconcerting, the fleeting nature of it all. Yesterday's experiment at lunch was a good learning experience in how I deal with being in social situations alone. But it was a more powerful reminder that we are social people, and we need interaction to be grounded and un-lost. It's hard to feel grounded when the culture of business takes over your life.
One of the things that I do when I travel is take pictures of my feet. I started a few years ago, in 2007, to focus my camera when I had multiple focal distances I was shooting. I used to post the pictures with the caption "I was here." Over time, through long trips and short ones, I've started doing it to ground myself - literally. So here's my shot from Manchester, NH this morning.
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| Manchester, New Hampshire - I was here. |
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