What Won't You Do in 2009?

As the 2009 arrives, many of you will be focused on resolutions of what you'll do in the new year.  Get a body like Obama, a love life like Gere, success, fame, fortune, wisdom... most will undoubtedly be broken by the end of January.  Matthew May over at Elegant Solutions reminds us there's a different path, a different perspective.  One that is more "lean" by focusing on removing instead of adding and improving the fundamental value.

What WON'T you do in the new year?

Jim Collins was Matthew's inspiration almost five years ago, with this article in USA Today.

Each time the New Year rolls around and I sit down to do my annual resolutions, I reflect back to a lesson taught me by a remarkable teacher. In my mid-20s, I took a course on creativity and innovation from Rochelle Myers and Michael Ray at the Stanford Graduate School of Business, and I kept in touch with them after I graduated.

Rochelle's challenge forced me to see that I'd been plenty energetic, but on the wrong things. Indeed, I was on entirely the wrong path.

Rochelle spoke to me repeatedly about the idea of "making your life a creative work of art." A great piece of art is composed not just of what is in the final piece, but equally important, what is not. It is the discipline to discard what does not fit -- to cut out what might have already cost days or even years of effort -- that distinguishes the truly exceptional artist and marks the ideal piece of work, be it a symphony, a novel, a painting, a company or, most important of all, a life.

Matthew adds the following.

It occurred to me as I read the essay that each of the hordes of Toyota ideas had behind it the “stop-doing” philosophy. I suddenly realized that I had been looking at the problem in the wrong way. As is natural and intuitive, I had been looking at what to do, rather than what to not do. But as soon as I shifted my perspective, the vaunted Toyota Production System became for me a study of what wasn’t there, and of how and what to stop doing. The Lexus line of cars, which had by then become America’s leading luxury nameplate, was suddenly a shining example of eliminating anything that lacked passion and perfection. The singular thought that what isn’t there can often be as or more powerful than what is presented me with a completely different view of the world. In fact, it presented an altogether unique reality—and a life-changing one, at that.

So what doesn't fit in your life?  What is sucking up energy that could be better used elsewhere?  What is taking away from the efficient, calm elegance that your life could be?