Life Support System

First Things First

2012-01-27T22:48:00.000-07:00

A young ensign had nearly completed his first overseas tour of duty when he was given the opportunity to prepare his ship to "set sail." With a stream of crisp commands, he had the decks buzzing with sailors and soon the ship churned slowly out of the channel.

The ensign’s efficiency was remarkable. In fact, the talk was that he had set a new record for getting the ship underway.

But his captain was not as pleased. A message delivered to the young officer read, "My personal congratulations upon completing your underway preparation exercise according to the book and with amazing speed. But next time, you might wait until your captain is aboard before setting off."

What good is a ship without the captain? The ensign did all the right things, but he never did the most important thing.

It is a matter of priorities. I know that I may accomplish a great deal every day. I may do the right things, but am I doing the best things? To borrow language from author Stephen Covey, do I put first things first?

I can relate to the man who believes he spends too much of his time in meetings. "I have this recurring nightmare," he says. "My wife and children are gathered at the cemetery for my funeral. After the service, the funeral director approaches my weeping family and hands them a box containing all my earthly possessions. In the box are 35 years of my annual calendars and diaries. I read over their shoulders as they scan the appointment notes that kept me busy for so many years. It occurs to me how seldom anything of significance was ever accomplished at those gatherings. I turn to look at my tombstone. The epitaph reads, "Daddy has gone to another meeting."

That man could be me. I need to regularly ask myself, "In my most significant relationships, in my work and in my free time, in all areas of my life, am I doing what is truly important? Important to me? I do the mundane. I do the urgent and the pressing. But do I spend enough time with what is actually significant?

I once made this demonstration to an audience. I filled a large, clear jar with coffee beans almost to the top. The beans, I said, represent all of the activities we accomplish in a day. Then I produced two golf balls. "These," I said, "represent a couple of the truly important things in our lives." I asked them to think of the golf balls as time spent with a significant person, such as a family member, or doing something special for somebody else, or developing their spiritual life or just beginning that project they keep putting off. I placed the balls on top of the beans then tried to screw on the lid. I couldn’t do it. There were too many beans in the jar.

"Does this remind you of a typical day?" I asked. "We’re so busy doing the usual we can’t seem to squeeze in anything else."

I emptied the jar and started over. "But what if we put first things first? What if we start each day doing something special, something we truly WANT to do? I placed the golf balls into the jar first. Then I poured in the coffee beans – all of them. They fell neatly around the balls and filled the jar to the top. When I screwed on the lid it fit perfectly.

And that’s the secret to building the kind of life you want. I’ve discovered that if I can begin every day with one or two things that are important to me, the other stuff still fits into place just fine.

I don’t want to just do all of the RIGHT things and never get around to the BEST things. And I certainly don’t want my life summed up in the sentence, "Daddy has gone to another meeting." So I handle the golf balls first. And in comparison, everything else is just beans.

-- Steve Goodier

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Dreams Are Renewable

2012-01-23T12:37:00.000-07:00

Are you too old to get married? Several years ago, Jim Gorringe, 99, and Dinah Leach, 84, wedded at the St. James Rest Home in Christchurch, New Zealand. Both had been previously married and great, great grandchildren attended the ceremony.

Just before the wedding, the groom quipped, "We won't be having children."

I wonder if this is the same older couple who stopped by a pharmacy a couple months before their wedding. They told the pharmacist they wanted to get married. "Do you sell heart medication?" they asked. He said that of course they do.

"Then how about medicine for circulation?"

The druggist replied, "All kinds."

"Do you have drugs for rheumatism, arthritis, memory problems and scoliosis?"

The pharmacist assured them that they had a wide array of medicines for all of those problems and more.

"And you sell wheelchairs, walkers and canes?"

"Absolutely," said the druggist. "Whatever you need."

They looked at each other and smiled. "Great!" the bride-to-be said. "We’d like to register here for our wedding gifts."

You have to admire their enthusiasm. They may have old memories – that is a gift of age. But they also have young hopes.

Author and television personality Hugh Downs reported some good news for seniors. He said that when older adults are properly motivated, their intelligence does not wane. In fact, the ability to organize thinking may actually increase as folks age. Many people in their 50's, 60's and even 70's can go through college with greater efficiency than at 18.

Adults over 70 years of age have contributed richly and in varied ways.

Emmanuel Kant wrote his finest philosophical works at age 74.

Verdi at 80 produced "Falstaff" and at 85, "Ave Maria."

Goethe was 80 when he completed "Faust."

Tennyson was 80 when he wrote "Crossing the Bar."

Michelangelo completed what may have been his greatest work at age 87.

At age 90, Justice Holmes was still writing brilliant American Supreme Court opinions.

And then there's George Dawson. George learned to read at age 98. (He was forced to quit school when he was a small child in order to help support his family.) "I got tired of writing my name with an 'X,'" he said. Four years later, at age 102, he co-authored his autobiography, Life Is So Good, published by Random House.

Dreams are renewable. They need not expire like an over-due library book. No matter our age, we can breathe new life into old dreams. In fact, we have to renew our dreams, or else they will wither away altogether.

I don’t want to spend my life so busy looking back that I lose interest in what lies ahead. As I age, I will have old memories. But I also want a few young hopes.

After all, dreams are renewable.

-- Steve Goodier

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Do-Overs

2012-01-17T14:30:00.000-07:00

Even if you’re not from Washington D.C. you may have heard of former Mayor Anthony Williams. He has a remarkable story. Williams was born to an unwed teen who gave him up. He was known as a "problem child" in foster care. By age three, little Anthony had still never spoken a word. It seemed that a pattern for his life was set, that is, until two warm and caring people took a chance on him.

Anthony was taken in by an opera-singing postal clerk and her equally generous-hearted husband. He soon began to speak and eventually thrived in their home. He excelled academically and later attended both Harvard and Yale Universities.

In 1998, he came from obscurity to win 66% of the vote to become mayor in one of the world’s major cities. In his inaugural address, Williams said: "Forty-four years ago, my parents adopted me and gave me a second chance. I feel this city has now adopted me and I will give to it everything my parents taught me about love, service, commitment."

It’s no doubt that, had he never been adopted into his particular family, his life would have been wholly different. He was saved by a second chance. And haven’t each of us been given second chances? He got a do-over on his birth family. Haven’t we been given do-overs on relationships, jobs, blown opportunities and the like? Quite often second chances are the result of the generosity of someone who cares a great deal. And sometimes we are saved by those second chances.

Author Dr. Seuss says in his book The Lorax, "Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."

I recently came across a story of a young American woman who was saved by a do-over. During the second World War, she lost her husband. He died in India of a tropical disease and she became despondent. In time, despair turned into depression and she lost all interest in living. She just didn’t care anymore.

She booked passage on a ship back to America. On the voyage, she became acquainted with a seven-year-old boy who, like her, was all alone. His parents had died in the fighting in Burma. He seemed to want to be with the young woman, but her pain would not allow it. She wanted nothing to do with him and avoided him whenever possible. She felt so ravaged by loss, that she was unable to get outside of herself and care about anyone else. And she certainly did not have the energy to take on someone else’s problems.

Then one night the ship was torpedoed. The young woman made her way to the deck and prepared herself to go down with the doomed vessel. Some part of her actually welcomed it as an escape from her pain. The child, too, came on deck. He shivered with cold and fright. When he spotted the woman, he came over and clung to her.

That was when a lump of ice melted somewhere deep inside her. She put her arms around the child and led him to one of the lifeboats. For several days, as they waited to be rescued, she held him and he held her. Years later her friends would say that they didn’t know whether the woman saved the boy, or the boy saved the woman. They each gave the other a second chance at life and a do-over on love.

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."

But it’s the people who give do-overs who truly change the world.

-- Steve Goodier

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Talking It Out

2011-12-30T12:22:00.000-07:00

"Anger blows out the lamp of the mind," said Robert Ingersoll.

It may be true. I heard a story about one woman who ran a classified ad in order to sell her brand new car. It had only 3,000 miles. "Like new," the ad boasted. "Mint condition. $75.00."

He laughed to himself, and said, "There goes the newspaper, making another mistake." But he decided to call the number anyway and ask about it.

"Is it really brand new?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Three thousand miles?"

"Yes."

"The price?"

"Seventy-five dollars," she answered.

"Seventy-five dollars! Lady, what's wrong with it?" he asked.

"Nothing is wrong with it. And, amazingly, you're the first to call. I suppose nobody else believes the ad."

He decided to look at it. She let him take a test drive. The car looked exquisite and ran perfectly. He just couldn't believe his luck.

"The car is yours for $75.00. Just drive it away."

He paid her and took the keys. "Please tell me, lady," he persisted. "You could have sold this car for $35,000, at least. What is going on?"

She told her story: "I bought the car for my husband on our fortieth wedding anniversary. Two weeks later he ran off with somebody else. Last week I got a text from him. They are in a resort in Miami Beach, Florida. The text said, 'Need money, sell car, send cash.' I did."

What do you do when you are angry?

Some people "act it out." They break something. Or they say something they later regret. They strike back. Or they sell the car for $75.00.

Other people "wait it out." Waiting it out seemed to be her husband’s strategy. Let her cool down – it will blow over. But the avoidance of conflict usually never ends well. It just doesn’t go away by itself.

Others "take it out." They kick the dog or scream at the kids. They lash out at the next unlucky person they come across.

Still others "fight it out." Humorist Bob Orben says, "Who can ever forget Winston Churchill’s immortal words: ‘We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills’? It sounds exactly like our family vacation." With friends and family, fighting it out becomes bickering. On a larger scale, it’s called warfare.

Of course, the best idea is to "talk it out." Nothing new here – we have to bring it up before we can get it out. But talking it out isn’t shouting it out. I think some people believe that if they just say it loudly enough, they can make it so.

Talking it out is about bringing it up – saying what needs to be said clearly, calmly and kindly. But it is also about listening. I think it’s interesting that the word "listen" contains the same letters as the word "silent." I know that I can’t listen when I’m talking. I can’t listen when I’m figuring out what I want to say next. I have to be still. I have to be silent.

And when I’m silent, something almost magical happens. Walls come down and I can begin to see my way through. When I’m silent I create space for something new to grow between us.

ACT IT OUT and your actions will become a block to good communication.

WAIT IT OUT and you just let it build up inside.

TAKE IT OUT and you cause more hurt and anger.

FIGHT IT OUT and you create winners and losers.

But TALK IT OUT and you can get it out. Be honest. Be clear. But, be reasonable. And then be silent. Let the magic of the moment ferment so that understanding can grow.

Maybe then you can keep the car.

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Just Chill

2011-12-26T21:27:00.000-07:00

AnAppalachian folk story tells of two friends who went coon hunting. They treed acoon but could not get him down. So one decided he'd climb the tree and shakethe coon loose. To his surprise, he found it wasn’t a coon at all, but a
wildcat.

Ina little while, his friend heard an awful commotion up in the tree. Then heheard a voice screaming down at him, "Help! Help!”

“What’llI do?”

“Justshoot up here amongst us,” his friend said. “One of us has got to have somerelief.”

Doesyour life ever feel like you’re wrestling with a wildcat and somehow,somewhere, you have to get some relief? If so, you’re not alone.

PsychologistRichard Wiseman asserts that people actually need more relief now than everbefore. We are living more stressful, faster-paced lives than ever. He cites theresults of an international study conducted in collaboration with the BritishCouncil to measure the speed of life.

Theexperiment was conducted by researchers who secretly timed how fast thousandsof pedestrians walked in city centers across the globe, including London,Madrid, Singapore and New York. Granted, this is not the most scientific experiment,but it is fascinating nevertheless.

Prof.Richard Wiseman says, “This simple measurement provides a significant insightinto the physical and social health of a city.” Where do the fastest walkerslive? In order of speed, they are found in Singapore (Singapore), Copenhagen(Denmark), Madrid (Spain), Guangzhou (China) and Dublin (Ireland).

Accordingto this study, we live about 10% faster now than twenty years ago, when asimilar experiment was conducted. The biggest changes are found in and aroundAsia, where the pace of life in Guangzhou (China) increased by over 20% andwhere Singapore showed a 30% increase.

Acommon American expression is, “Chill.” Are you anxious and uptight? Chill. Needto de-stress? Just take it easy? Chill.

Chilling is pretty good advice, actually. Especially if theword “chill” is spelled this way:

C - Calm down. When you’re anxious, frenzied or pressed,stop. Take a deep breath and ask yourself, “Why?”

H - Hold back. Set a reasonable pace. Life is a marathon,not a sprint. If you want to last, pace yourself. And take time to rest.

I - Indulge your desire for fun. Do something fun everydayand try to put fun in your usual activities.

L - Learn how to just be. You already know how to DO. Taketime to BE. Don’t measure your life by what you accomplish, but by who you are.Be present. Be attentive. But be.

L - Let it go. You are not responsible for everything and everybody. In theimmortal words of poet Robert Browning, “God's in His Heaven; all'sright with the world.” You don’t have to do it all yourself; you don’t have todo it all right now. And some of it you may not have to do at all.

Youmay feel like you’re wrestling with a wildcat. Or maybe you just feel as if you’reliving too fast. But if you need some relief, “chill” is a good word toremember. Spell it right and you just might get something you don’t expect.Happiness.

Connected for Life

2011-12-05T12:26:00.001-07:00

Do you find yourself pulling away from others, especially if you’ve experienced a crisis or deep disappointment? Maybe the most difficult thing we can do is to be with people when we don’t feel like being around anybody. We need other people and we’ll never thrive as human beings in isolation

One woman likes to say, “Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry with your girlfriends.” The presumption is that men are not empathetic, and there is probably some truth there.

But I meet with a small group of men that challenge that assertion. We meet for one reason only – to support each other in our life journeys. We ask embarrassing questions like, “How is it with your soul?” And, “How are you REALLY doing?” We try to answer honestly and to share what is good in our lives, but also relate what is not going well. Where possible, we try to admit our failings in a situation as well as what we think we may be doing right. We use each other for a reality check, for support and, of course, for friendship.

It’s the only group in my life where I can be totally honest and know that they will accept me anyway. We meet only to listen to each other, support one another and, if need be, to occasionally challenge one another. The point is – we need each other.

A man who lost his wife to cancer found himself wanting to be alone. In time he dropped out of his worshipping community and curtailed all of the activities he and his wife had shared for so many years. He increasingly kept to himself. He quit socializing at work and returned straight home to an empty house. He turned down invitations from friends and co-workers. His leisure time was now spent watching television or working in his shop in the basement.

His contact with people dwindled until friends became alarmed that he might live out his life as a recluse. One came by to visit and to invite him over for supper the next evening. The two old friends sat in comfortable chairs by a warm fireplace. The visitor extended the dinner invitation and encouraged him to come. “You may need to allow others to share your pain.”

The man responded that he figured he was better off without being around other people. After all, others only seemed to remind him of all he had lost. “And besides,” he said, “it’s just too difficult to get out anymore.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching the wood burn in the fireplace. Then the visitor did an unusual thing. He took tongs from a rack by the fireplace, reached into the fire, pulled out a flaming ember and laid it down by itself on the hearth. “That’s you,” he said.

The men sat in silence watching the red-hot ember. It slowly lost its glow. Neither man looked away as the once-hot coal gradually transformed into a crusty, black lump. After some moments, the widower turned to his companion and said, “I get the message, my friend. I’ll be over tomorrow evening.”

We cannot survive in any healthy way by ourselves. The leaf needs the branch. The branch needs the trunk. The trunk needs the roots. And the roots need the rest of the tree. We are connected. And in that connection we find life and vitality.

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Homeward Bound

2011-11-28T10:04:00.001-07:00

Ionce clipped a funny story from “Reader’s Digest” submitted by Joanne Mitchell.She wrote, “My brother adopted a snake named Slinky, whose most disagreeabletrait was eating live mice. Once I was pressed into going to the pet store tobuy Slinky's dinner. The worst part of this wasn't choosing thejuiciest-looking creatures or turning down the clerk who wanted to sell mevitamins to ensure their longevity. The hardest part was carrying the poorthings out in a box bearing the words ‘Thank you for giving me a home.’”

That'sa little hard to take. Dinner with Slinky cannot be a mouse’s idea of goinghome.

Anotherwoman tells of a time when she was at home with her children and the telephonerang. In going to answer it, she tripped on a rug, reached out for something tohold on to and grabbed the telephone table. It crashed to the floor and jarredthe receiver from the cradle. The table fell on top of the family dog, whichleaped up barking and howling. The mother’s three-year-old son, startled bythis noise, broke into loud screams. The woman mumbled some colorful words andfinally managed to pick up the receiver and lift it to her ear. Before shecould answer, she heard her husband's voice over the phone say, “Nobody's saidhello yet, but I'm positive I have the right number.”

Nowthat sounds all-too-typical – from peace to pandemonium in about two seconds.Any of us who have raised children or even any of us who WERE children probablyget it.

Familiestoday come in all different shapes and sizes. And when peace turns intopandemonium, one may long to get away from it all, at least for a while. Butthe fact is, we each are born into families and we seem to have an irresistibleurge to start new ones. At a deep level I believe we know that the family isjust about the most important and probably the most enduring institution evercreated. Regardless of what a family looks like, whether or not children arepresent, home is a place where our souls can finally connect with the soul ofanother; a place where we can, and should, feel safe, cared for and evenspecial.

In1688 Johannes Hofer, a Swiss medical student, coined a word to describe anillness whose symptoms include insomnia, anorexia, palpitations, stupor, and,above all, a persistent thinking of home. The word he coined was “nostalgia.”There is a yearning within the human heart to return to that place where wewere secure, loved and made to feel important.

SongwriterPaul Simon picks up the feeling when he sings that “every stranger’s face I seereminds me that I long to be homeward bound…”

Ifwe can’t be homeward bound, can we make “home” out of where we are? Home may beas much a state of being as a place. We talk about feeling at home when we feelat peace or when we feel comforted. “I am at home in this place,” we might say.It’s a state of well-being and solace.

Ifhome is as much about attitude as it is about latitude, then we never need feeltoo far from home. That’s good to know, especially during those times when wefind our thoughts homeward bound. Can you make the place you are a space ofpeace? Can you find comfort in your surroundings and warmth in the company offriends? If so, even if you’re not at the place you live, you will be at home.

Something You Can't Fake

2011-11-06T14:46:00.000-07:00

Oneperson writes: “I have been in many places, but I have never been in Cahoots.Apparently you can't go there alone. You have to be in Cahoots with someone.I've also never been in Cognito. I hear no one recognizes you there. I have,however, been in Sane. You have to be driven there. I have made several tripsthere, thanks to my family, friends and those where I have worked.”

Ifind myself in some interesting places – like Love. Have you ever been in Love?It can be a hard place to leave. Occasionally I find myself in Fear, in Doubtand, at times, in Capable. I don’t like to spend a lot of time there.

Butwhat about Sincere? Have you been in Sincere, lately? I’ve been there and it isnot an honorable place to go.

Aguy was in Sincere when he bought his wife a beautiful diamond ring forChristmas. Well, not quite a diamond, but it looked like one.

Afriend of his said, "I thought she wanted one of those pretty 4-wheeldrive vehicles."

Heshrugged his shoulders. "She did. But where in the world was I going tofind a fake jeep?"

Isthere such a thing as a fake relationship?

Youremember comedian Tommy Smothers' old line? “The best thing about getting olderis that you gain sincerity. Once you learn to fake that, there’s nothing youcan’t do.”

Iheard a true story of a teenager who got a tattoo on her hip – a delicatelittle Japanese symbol. At her friend’s house she showed it off. The friend’smother commented on it and the girl begged, “Please don’t tell my parents.”

Themother assured her that she wouldn’t say anything about it. Then she asked, “Bythe way, what does it stand for?”

"Honesty,"she said.

Ilove irony.

WhenI am sincere, there’s nothing to hide. I am just me. It’s something I can’tfake. And if I’m the best me that I can be, then what can I be that is anybetter?

TheWall Street Journal once printed a little piece titled “Sincerity.” It is oneof my favorites.

“I wish I werebig enough honestly to admit all my shortcomings;
brilliantenough to accept praise without it making me arrogant;tall enough totower above deceit;strong enoughto welcome criticism;compassionateenough to understand human frailties;wise enough torecognize my mistakes;humble enoughto appreciate greatness;staunch enoughto stand by my friends;human enoughto be thoughtful of my neighbor;and righteousenough to be devoted to the love of God.”

Iam really not all that strong. I don’t always act with courage. I am certainlynot as brilliant as others, as charming or as wise. But today I can be me. Andwhen I lie down tonight, I’ll sleep easy knowing it will have been enough.

-- Steve Goodier

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Finding the Funny Side

2011-10-17T09:58:00.002-06:00

How are you atfinding the funny side of situation?

In America, each ofthe states likes to promote themselves with a slogan. I currently live in Utah,where the slogan is “Life Elevated.” It’s a nod to outdoor recreation in thehigh country, including the ski industry. I previously lived in Colorado, a landwith red dirt, majestic mountains and golden plains. The slogan there is“Colorful Colorado.” Years ago I lived in the “Peach State” of Georgia, and Igrew up in New Mexico, whose slogan is "Land of Enchantment."

New Mexico is a landof high, arid desert and it has a beauty of its own. I have never seen a sunsetas spectacular as one in the New Mexico desert. The western sky can glow abrilliant orange behind red and purple clouds.

But this is also acountry of wind, lots of it. A gritty wind can howl for hours, and “dustdevils” (funnel-shaped whirlwinds) will appear without notice.

We never seemed toget away from dust in New Mexico, so I appreciate the story of a newcomer tothe Land of Enchantment who learned about dusty breezes. She was visiting anantique shop and the proprietor wiped down every item before showing it. Thenewcomer said, "Everything gets dusty here pretty quickly, doesn'tit?"

"That's notdust, honey," the shop owner replied. "That's ENCHANTMENT."

Here was a person whotook a negative and turned it into something humorous. That made the problemmore palatable - easier to swallow, or at least live with. And face it. Thereare some things, like the weather, we can’t change. All we can change is ourattitude toward them. I believe one of the best techniques to do this is tofind some humor in the situation. Finding the funny side of a difficulty, anirritation or a troublesome problem can be one of the most creative andeffective things we can do.

A Hong Kong shoppingcenter manager was informed that an escalator broke. He posted a sign to warncustomers. He opted not to use the traditional "Out of Order" or"Do Not Use" warnings. Instead, his sign read,"This Escalator Is Temporarily a Stairway." He turned a minus intohumor and made it a plus. Sometimes the only sense you can make of a situationis a sense of humor.

How are you atfinding the funny side?

-- Steve Goodier

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A Spittin' Image

2011-10-12T21:19:00.000-06:00

The doctor said to a new father, “You have a cute baby.”

“I bet you say that to all the new parents,” smiled the proud daddy.

“No,” he replied, “just to those whose babies really are good-looking.”

“So what do you say to the others?”

I say, “He’s the spittin’ image of you.”

Do you suppose they teach that in medical school?

I’m told that a young mother enlisted the help of a friend in taking her infant identical twins to the doctor. Since the waiting area was full, the two women, each with a twin, were seated on opposite sides of the room. After a few minutes someone commented, “It’s amazing how much those two babies look alike!”

The friend was quick to reply, “Well, they should. They have the same father.” I haven’t heard whether the misunderstanding was ever straightened out.

With identical twins, it’s easy to see that they are the “spittin’ image” of each other. Actually, that term “spittin’ image” stems from an old misunderstanding itself. Joel Chandler Harris, author of the Uncle Remus stories, explained that when an American slave seemed to be saying, “spittin’ image,” he or she was actually saying, “spirit and image,” as: “‘He’s the spi’it ‘n’ image of his daddy.” It meant more than they merely looked alike. Spirit and image – alike, inside and out.

And what makes it even more interesting is the ancient truth from the monk Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153), who said, “What we love we shall grow to resemble.” Or put another way, we become the spi’it ‘n’ image of that which we hold dear. We are shaped by that which we admire most, and by the people we love most.

It works like this: Those who admire success may become “the image of success.” Those who admire ambition will, to even a casual observer, look ambitious, perhaps even driven. Those who admire and love the gentle saints of their faith will, more than likely, remind others of those same saints in their attitudes, words and actions. Day by day, we become the spi’it ‘n’ image of the people we befriend, admire and love.

An unknown writer tells a story about her grandmother and a person she deeply admired. The story goes like this:

"My grandmother was born in a small west Texas farming town on August 26, 1929, two months and three days before Black Tuesday, the stock market crash that started the Great Depression. As the youngest daughter of sharecroppers, who earned their living by picking cotton, she knew the meaning of barely getting by. Times were tough and she learned to never waste anything.

Her Uncle Jess was a compassionate man who always treated her with kindness. Each time she would visit him, she always left with the same feeling: I am special. After all, she was the only person who was allowed to drink from his special pink drinking glass. One day, she took the pink glass out to the water cooler, a special room that stored and cooled the water generated from the windmill. Out in the water cooler, she dropped the glass. Looking down at the hundreds of glass fragments, she began to cry. She had been entrusted with this special glass and now it was broken.

Her crying was interrupted when she heard Uncle Jess call out, 'Ruby Nell, I was thinking. I’m tired of that silly old pink glass. Would you please break it for me?'

She ran back to him calling out, with the enthusiasm that only a six-year-old can summon, 'I did it, Uncle Jess! I did it!'”

How many times did Ruby pass that story along out of admiration for her uncle? How often did she remember his kindness and compassion and show the same to others? Over the years of a long life, how many times would she choose to believe in herself because of the way Uncle Jess always made her feel: that she was special? And when life was cruel and people let her down, how many times did she find enough strength to set aside anger and respond in kindness, because that is what Uncle Jess would have done?

As little Ruby Nell grew up, she could do worse than to grow into the spi’it ‘n’ image of Uncle Jess.

We are shaped by that which we admire most, and by the people we love most.

Whom do you love and admire?

What qualities draw you to them?
And how can you bring more people like that into your life?

-- Steve Goodier

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There You Are

2011-10-04T12:44:00.000-06:00

"Skipper, a special message just came in for you from the admiral," a sailor reported to his captain, holding out a brown envelope. "I have it right here."

"Just read it to me," said the captain.

"I think it’s personal, Sir. You may want to read it in private."

"Read it aloud to me," he ordered, "unless you’re embarrassed by a little flattery." He stuck his chest out a tiny bit further.

The sailor read, "You are without a doubt, the most conceited, self-absorbed, ego-maniac ever to command a ship in this country’s navy."

The skipper scowled. "Have that communication decoded at once."

Surely it couldn’t mean what it said. The captain was like a proud lion who strutted through the jungle. The lion came across a chimpanzee. "Who is the king of the jungle?" he demanded.

"Why, of course, you are." The terrified chimpanzee trembled. With that, the lion gave a mighty roar.

Next he spotted a hyena. "Who is the king of the jungle?"

The hyena was quick to respond. "You are, mighty one." She bounded away without looking back.

Then the lion came across an elephant drinking from the river. "Who is the king of the jungle?" he roared.

The elephant grabbed the lion with his trunk, whirled him around in the air and threw him far into the water.

As the soggy and bedraggled beast struggled to shore he said, "Just because you don't know the answer is no reason to get upset."

Like the skipper, the lion had trouble hearing what he didn’t want to hear. He was king of the jungle no matter what anyone else might think.

Have you noticed – for some people, it's all about them; for others, it's all about you? Author and speaker Leil Lowndes puts it this way: "There are two kinds of people in this life. Those who walk into a room and say, 'Well, here I am.' And those who walk in and say, 'Ah, there you are.'" I know which I am happiest to see.

I’ve learned how important it is to try to make others feel important. Do you know that it is easy to talk to practically anybody? If you want to find a subject of interest, ask them about themselves. Help them feel as if they matter and you will always have plenty to talk about.

It’s important to make them feel important. If you want friends, show an interest in people around you. No one is without a friend who knows how to be a friend.

And if you want to take it to the next level, treat each person you are with as if they are the most significant person in your life at that moment. That is making the shift from "Here I am" to "There you are." It is not always an easy shift to make. It may mean changing a fundamental outlook or attitude. But when one can make that change, everything else changes, too – for the better.

William Booth, founder of the Salvation Army in 1865, understood this principle. A story is told that, one Christmas season, he tried to think of a way to encourage all of his officers. The Salvation Army had seen rapid growth by this time they were spread throughout several countries. He decided to send each one a telegram. The cable consisted of a one-word message: OTHERS. His organization grew around that motto.

I can hardly think of a better motto for a life. A life dedicated to "others" is one that shouts THERE YOU ARE. It is a life that is full and happy and, best of all, worthwhile.

-- Steve Goodier

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What Is Your Rope Tied To?

2011-09-16T09:28:00.000-06:00

You may have heard of the man who decided to repair the roof of his house. The pitch was steep, and to be safe, he tied a rope around his waist and threw the other end of it over the top of the house. He called his son and asked him to tie it to something secure. The boy fastened the safety rope to the bumper of their car parked in the driveway. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

But a little while later, his wife needed to run a few errands with the automobile. Unaware of the line securing her husband, she started the car and proceeded to drive away. The rope immediately tightened and jerked the man over the roof and into thin air. Now before you become alarmed, let me assure you that this never really happened. But I chuckle at the image of the poor guy sailing over the top of his house like Evel Knievel without a motorcycle.

This story, factual or not, points to a great truth. It is a truth about where we place our security; about those things to which we’ve tied our safety lines. What is your rope tied to?

Think about it. What do you depend on to keep you from disaster? Is your rope tied to a good job? Is it tied to a relationship with somebody you rely on? Is it tied to a company or an organization?

In her wise and sensitive audio Lessons in Living, writer Susan Taylor tells of discovering how unreliable some of our safety lines really are. She tells of lying in bed in the early hours of the morning when an earthquake struck. As her house shook, she tumbled out of bed and managed to stand underneath an arched door-way in her hall, watching in horror as her whole house tumbled down around her. Where her bed had once stood, she later discovered nothing but a pile of rubble. She lost everything – every button, every dish, her automobile, every stitch of clothing.

Susan huddled, scared and crying, in the darkness. In the pre-dawn morning she cried and called out for help.

As exhaustion set in, she thought that maybe she should be listening for rescuers rather than making so much commotion. So she grew still and listened. In the silence around her, the only sound she heard was the beating of her own heart. It occurred to her then that at least she was still alive and, amazingly enough, unhurt.

She thought about her situation. In the stillness, fear abandoned her and a feeling of indescribable peace and happiness flooded in, the likes of which she had never before known. It was an experience that was to permanently change her life.

In the deepest part of her being, Susan realized a remarkable truth. She realized she had nothing to fear. Amazingly, whether or not she was ever rescued, whether she even made it out alive, she sensed she had nothing to fear.

For the first time in her life she understood that her true security did not depend on those things in which she had placed her trust. It lay deep within. And also for the first time, she knew what it was to be content in all circumstances. She realized that, in an ultimate sense, whether she had plenty or hardly enough, somehow she would be all right. She just knew it.

She later wrote, "Before the quake I had all the trappings of success, but my life was out of balance. I wasn’t happy because I was clinging to things in my life and always wanting more. My home, my job, my clothes, a relationship – I thought they were my security. It took an earthquake and losing everything I owned for me to discover that my security had been with me all along . . . There’s a power within us that we can depend upon no matter what is happening around us."

She had tied her rope to the wrong things. It took a disaster for her to understand that those things are untrustworthy. So she let go of the rope and discovered peace. She found that her true security was a power within – dependable and sure.

What is your rope tied to? And what would happen if you found the courage to let go of it?

-- Steve Goodier

　
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'Ohana Means Family

2011-09-06T10:10:00.000-06:00

Two men met at a bus stop and struck up a conversation. One of them complained of family problems.

Finally, the other man said, "You think you have family problems? Listen. A few years ago I met a young widow with a grown-up daughter, and we got married. Later my father married my stepdaughter. That made my stepdaughter my stepmother and my father became my stepson. Also, my wife became mother-in-law of her father-in-law.

"Then the daughter of my wife, my stepmother, had a son. This boy was my half-brother because he was my father's son, but he was also the son of my wife's daughter, which made him my wife's grandson. That made me the grandfather of my half-brother.

"This was nothing until my wife and I had a son. Now the half-sister of my son, my stepmother, is also the grandmother. This makes my father the brother-in-law of my child, whose stepsister is my father's wife. I'm my stepmother's brother-in-law, my wife is her own child's aunt, my son is my father's nephew and I'm my own grandfather. Now – tell me about your family problems."

I don’t know if sorting out your family is a problem. A bigger issue for many of us is that we want more from family life than just knowing who's who, and more than we’re presently getting.

One of the most common complaints I hear from families is that they are not close. They may be close in proximity, but still not feel close as a family. They may live next door or even in the same house, but feel more like strangers.

Hawaiians have a powerful word for family: ‘ohana. In 'ohana, people matter. And they know it. As Lilo says in "Lilo and Stitch, "’Ohana means family. Family means no one is left behind - or forgotten." Families that value closeness work hard to keep anyone from feeling left behind or forgotten.

In my family, closeness is not so much about latitude as about attitude. We live far apart from one another, so we need a willingness to do what it takes. We feel closest when we feel understood, when we feel loved and when we look forward to time we can spend together. When we succeed, no one feels left behind – or forgotten.

A reader in Hawaii once wrote to tell me that the CEO of one of the state's largest banks was considering a run for governor. Since he was well-liked, he seemed to have a good chance of winning.

But, before filing papers, he changed his mind, stating that he wanted to spend more time with his family. Not that elected officials can't be family-oriented, but he reasoned he needed more time at home than the job allowed.

Ronald A. Young, in the "Honolulu Advertiser," praised the decision. "No matter what you accomplish in the business world or the social world," he said, "if you fail 'ohana, then you have not accomplished much. Failure or success does not lie in the material wealth you provide them. It is measured by what of yourself you give to them."

And that’s the question, isn’t it? What of myself do I give to them? What am I willing to give to ‘ohana? Because no one should be left behind – or forgotten.

-- Steve Goodier

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Serious Humor

2011-08-26T10:43:00.002-06:00

I’ve known several morticians over the years. Without exception, they’ve each had a rich sense of humor. The ability to laugh is probably necessary in some professions, and those who work with corpses likely head the list. Otherwise, how could they stand the grief and pain felt by every family that walks through the door?

I once heard of mortician who liked to sign all his correspondence: "Eventually yours." That gets right to the point.

Humor is something I can get serious about. It is nothing less than an extravagant gift – to be frequently used and shared. Evangelist Billy Graham said that "a keen sense of humor helps us to overlook the unbecoming, understand the unconventional, tolerate the unpleasant, overcome the unexpected and outlast the unbearable." That’s serious stuff.

In the summertime, I like to ride my 150cc scooter instead of driving the car. I enjoy the breeze in my face and sometimes find myself smiling for the pure joy of it as I zip along.

But my scooter has a major flaw. It was not made for uneven surfaces. Its single, mushy shock absorber is almost useless as the bike grinds and scrapes at every unexpected bump and hole in the road.

A life without humor is no better at getting through life’s bumps and jolts than my scooter. It groans and complains at any unanticipated obstacle thrown in the path. And there is plenty of debris along the way. There will be obstacles in life’s road at every turn.

The problem is not that there are problems. There will always be rocks in the way. And where there are no rocks, watch out for a pothole. No one ever promised a smooth ride. As Katharine Hepburn said, "Life is hard. After all, it kills you." Problems are not the problem. It’s that when we think the way should always be smooth, every stone we hit feels like a personal assault.

We need resources to absorb life’s shocks. And a good sense of humor is one tool we can’t live without. The ability to lighten up is invaluable when we encounter teeth-rattling jolts. It helps us "overlook the unbecoming, understand the unconventional, tolerate the unpleasant, overcome the unexpected, and outlast the unbearable." And it’s just plain fun to carry along on the ride.

Maybe musician Corky Siegel got it right when he said, "Life is too important to take seriously."

-- Steve Goodier

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Tempering Our Temper

2011-08-18T13:35:00.000-06:00

A young girl came into the house with a tear in her pants. Her mother was exasperated, as this had happened too many times before. At her wits end, she said to her daughter, "Now you go into your room, take off those pants, and sew up that tear!" The poor child had never held needle and thread in her life.

So understandably, a little while later her mother saw the pants crumpled on the floor of her daughter's bedroom -- still torn. She looked around for her daughter. Spying the basement light on, she called down the stairs, "Are you down there running around with your pants off?"

A big voice boomed up, "No ma'am. I'm reading the gas meter."

Of course, what parent can’t relate to her exasperation?

On the other hand, I DO have trouble understanding the guy in Los Angeles who was arrested for negligent discharge of a weapon after shooting his toilet bowl five times with a handgun (and yes, this is true). Why did he assault the commode? He apparently exploded when he couldn’t extract a hair brush his daughter flushed down.

He might benefit from the advice of one of America’s great presidents, Thomas Jefferson, who cautioned, "When angry, count to ten before you speak; if very angry, count to 100." I think it applies to discharging weapons, too.

Maybe another technique works better for you. One husband asked his wife, "When I get mad at you, you never fight back. How do you control your anger?"

She smiled at him. "I clean the toilet bowl." (Uh-oh, toilets again.)

"How does that help?"

"I use your toothbrush," she said sweetly.

It's not that anger is a bad thing in itself. A good bit of fire in the belly may be needed to right the world’s wrongs. But this isn’t about righteous indignation. It’s about tempering our temper.

I’ve seen marriages destroyed, careers derailed and relationships of all kinds decimated by uncontrolled rage. It’s no wonder all of the world’s great religions have something to say about it. To name a few, the Buddha said, "You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger." The prophet Muhammad said, "He is not strong and powerful who throws people down, but he is strong who withholds himself from anger." And in Christian scripture Jesus instructs, "If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also." You get the idea.

I like the motto Mahatma Gandhi hung on his wall at Sevagram:

"When you are in the right,
You can afford to keep your temper;
When you are in the wrong,
You can't afford to lose it."

I’m sure I could never say it better.

-- Steve Goodier

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Great Teachers

2011-08-04T12:21:00.000-06:00

Did you know that ninety percent of the world's ice covers Antarctica? This ice also represents most of the fresh water in the world. Yet Antarctica is the driest place on the planet, with an absolute humidity lower than the Gobi desert.

If you’re into biology, you may know this about the Mayfly -- after hatching, it takes up to three years to grow up, and then spends only one day as an adult. During that day it mates, lays eggs and expires. That last day must be absolutely spectacular.

Next time you dust your house, you may be interested to know that most of the dust particles you are removing are actually tiny bits of dead skin. Don’t even ask how much dead skin has made its way into your favorite pillow.

Did you know that the Mona Lisa has no eyebrows?

Or that that 80% of your brain is water? Well, mine anyway.

You’ve heard the expression "having a lark." Those who are interested in language might want to know that group of larks is called an exaltation. A group of owls is called a parliament. A group of crows is called a murder. A group of rhinos is called a crash, which seems to make some sense. But here’s the best of all: a group of Unicorns is called a blessing.

As interesting as all of these facts are, I doubt any of them is bound to significantly change your life. The stuff we need to know in order to live happier, healthier and more meaningful lives does not usually come from tidbits of knowledge. More often it comes from people; and especially, people who mean something to us. Let me explain.

For Ross Perot, the kind of knowledge that made the greatest difference in his life was actually gleaned from his mother. The American businessman and one-time presidential candidate made billions of dollars from the technology industry. But his mother, who raised him before the phrase "computer age" was ever coined, taught him how to live. She helped shape him into the man he would eventually become.

Perot remembers the days of America’s Great Depression. "Hoboes" regularly knocked on their door asking for a little food. It puzzled young Ross that his house seemed to be singled out on their street. One day he learned why. On the curb in front of their house someone had etched a white mark, indicating to fellow travelers that this house was an "easy mark." This fact disturbed the boy and he asked his mother if she wanted him to erase the signal. She told him to leave it there. It was a lesson in compassion he never forgot.

Some of the most essential life lessons and wisdom young Ross acquired did not come from a book or a classroom. They were lessons that came from those people closest to him. Many concerned themselves with the heart and spirit. They taught him about the world and the best way to live in it.

Our greatest teachers are usually those who did not volunteer for the job. They are parents and friends, spouses and children. Much great wisdom is learned best from the example of those closest to us.

And the remarkable fact is this: you are a great teacher. You teach powerful lessons every day of your life. You teach them simply by the way you live; by the way you respond to the world; and, by the little decisions you make. I wonder -- who’s watching and learning?

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All Filled Up

2011-07-13T21:05:00.002-06:00

I recall reading that a man from Virginia Beach (Virginia, USA) filed a law suit against his hospital. He opted to have surgery in order to lose weight. So he had his stomach stapled -- a procedure that reduced the size of his stomach so he couldn't eat as much.

A couple of days after surgery he sneaked down the hospital corridors to the kitchen. There he raided the refrigerator and ate so much that his staples burst.

The law suit? He claimed it was the hospital's fault. They should have locked the refrigerator.

And no – I don't know how the suit came out. Just the staples.

He wanted to make other people responsible for what he put into his mouth. Which raises the question: who decides what we bring into our lives?

One man told me, "I'm not a garbage truck."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked him.

"I mean that sometimes other people want to dump their garbage on me,” he said. “They fill themselves up with negativity and complaints and want to dump all of that garbage on me. I’m not going to take all of their garbage. They may need to get rid of it, but not all over me.”

He believes people need to be responsible for the garbage in their lives. And that’s probably true for the good stuff, too. For me, that includes just about everything. It means I am responsible for everything I put into my mouth, but also for everything I choose to watch and hear. Some of it’s good and some of it’s garbage. It even means everything that comes into my head through my eyes and ears. It’s also about everything that fills up my time. Everything.

And to be honest, I don’t always do a great job with everything that comes into my life. But I am clear that what I allow in is up to me, not somebody else.

When we fill our bodies with the right foods, they perform well.

When we fill our heads with learning, they won’t easily stagnate.

When we fill our minds with healthier attitudes, we will have a better outlook.

When we fill our hearts with a little more courage, we will be able to face life with confidence.

When we fill our talk with more gratitude, we will be happier.

When we fill our lives with more love, we will never be alone.

Only we can decide how to fill ourselves up.

Have you heard the story of the two wolves? A common version of it goes like this:

An old Cherokee chief was teaching his grandson about life...

"A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy. "It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.

"One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt and ego.

"The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.

"This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old chief simply replied, "The one you feed."

Only I can choose what should come into my life. Only I can choose which wolf to feed. And only I can choose what to do about it today.

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The Gifts of Age

2011-07-08T17:17:00.002-06:00

I love young people. I feel the same way as Archbishop Desmond Tutu who once said, "I have the highest regard for young people… Young people are idealistic. They dream dreams about a better world."

They not only dream dreams, they have the audacity to believe in those dreams and often enough enthusiasm to nurture them into something close to real life.

I love young people. What fun I could have "back in the day" – ridiculous fun. And what hope. I was changing so quickly and it seemed I could be limited only by my dreams. If I believed it might be possible, I felt I could make it so.

There are tremendous gifts that come with youth. Like optimism and the ability to change. When anything seems possible, more than a little of it becomes possible if one only believes enough and adapts quickly.

And then we age. Please don’t hear a note of discouragement – it’s just that aging is something I am only slowly coming to embrace. It creeps up on a person like silent fog in the night; we awaken one morning in the midst of it and wonder how it got there.

We age, whether we choose to or not. And some people dread it. Singer Doris Day once said, "The really frightening thing about middle age is that you know you'll grow out of it." That fear can be all too real.

Some people dread aging. And some people deny it. They try to avoid the fact that they are growing older and their bodies are in decline. One woman who had ignored her failing eyesight for too long was asked, "How long have you worn glasses?"

"Since yesterday," she replied. "As I was baking some tollhouse cookies I picked up the fly swatter and killed four chocolate chips." Some people deny aging and live as if nothing has changed.

And some people avoid it – or try to. They idealize youth and never become comfortable in their older, looser-fitting skin. One man quipped: "A few years ago my wife started to wear tight jeans. I went out and bought a convertible. Then she bleached her hair. I took a lot of multiple vitamin shots. Just a few months ago, she had a face lift and a "tummy tuck." I got an implant. And that's the way it’s been for the two of us: side by side -- growing young together."

Since age can’t really be avoided, there are those, also, who learn to laugh at it. Humor won’t chase old age away, but laughter certainly makes it more bearable.

A parody of the musical hit "My Favorite Things" is making the rounds among oldsters. The song, inaccurately attributed to Julie Andrews, reminds us that it helps to laugh at what we can’t change.

"Maalox and nose drops and needles for knitting,
Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings,
Bundles of magazines tied up in string;
These are a few of my favorite things…"

You get the idea.

We may try to deny it or avoid it. We may dread it or learn to laugh at it. But unless an accident or illness robs us of the chance to grow old, we’ll all experience it.

Which is okay. For if youth has its gifts, I believe age does, too. When aged well, the idealism of youth is tempered now with solid experience. Youth’s enthusiasm is made more valuable when combined in old age with good judgment. And youth’s ability to become anything they can imagine, in old age takes the form of character; trustworthy and reliable – character so rich only decades of living could ever grow and refine it.

These are the gifts of age. They are gifts found in those who live their lives intentionally and well. They take a lifetime to acquire and they are precious beyond belief.

Listening with Your Heart

2011-07-02T12:19:00.001-06:00

This is an actual advertisement found in a Utah (USA) newspaper from a man trying to sell his motorcycle.

"2006 Suzuki 1000. This bike is perfect! It has 1000 miles and has had its 500 mile dealer service. (Expensive Service!)

It's been adult ridden, all wheels have always been on the ground. I use it as a cruiser/commuter. I'm selling it because it was purchased without proper consent of a loving wife!

Apparently "do whatever the heck you want" doesn't mean what I thought!!!

Call me, Steve. [phone number]"

Her sarcasm was lost on him. Somehow he didn’t hear the words behind the words.

Why is it? We own cell phones and send email. We talk, text and tweet. We have more ways of communicating than ever before, but communication is still a major problem.

Maybe they hear our words, but they're deaf to what is behind the words. So what do we do? We say it LOUDER. If we can't be understood at conversational level, maybe they'll understand if we blast it into their heads.

And sometimes we simply don’t listen well. Perhaps that is because many of us are afflicted with what communicator Nido Qubein terms "agenda anxiety" – the feeling that what we want to say to others is more important than what they might want to say to us. So we don’t listen. We try to impress rather than express, not realizing that two monologues do not make a dialogue.

"Please understand me," is the desperate cry of too many relationships. "You don’t have to make me feel better; you don’t have to do anything; you don’t even have to agree with me. But don’t judge me. Just understand me. Please."

The truth is that our relationships work when communication works. And communication works when we hear the words behind the words; when it becomes as important for us to listen as it is for us to speak; and, when we truly understand each other. For me, it takes more than merely listening with my ears. I also have to listen with my heart.

My colleague and friend Roy Trueblood collaborated on the book MANAGING FROM THE HEART [Managing from the Heart] In it, the authors discuss what it means to communicate from the heart as well as from the head. Here are five principles of "H-E-A-R-T" communication. These are great tips for better talking and listening in personal relationships.

H - Hear and understand me.

E - Even if you disagree, please don’t make me wrong.

A - Acknowledge the greatness within me.

R - Remember to look for my loving intentions.

T - Tell me the truth with compassion.

Noted author and psychotherapist Virginia Satir said this about communication: "Once a human being has arrived on this earth, communication is the largest single factor determining what kinds of relationships he makes with others and what happens to him in the world about him." It seems important that we get it right.

I realize that the quality of my life will be largely determined by the quality of my relationships. And my relationships will improve when I learn to listen with my heart.

A Hero for Our Time

2011-06-28T19:18:00.003-06:00

An American tourist in Tel Aviv was about to enter the impressive Mann Auditorium to take in a concert by the Israel Philharmonic. He was admiring the unique architecture, the sweeping lines of the entrance, and the modern decor throughout the building. Finally he turned to his escort and asked if the building was named for Thomas Mann, the world famous author.

"No," his friend said, "it's named for Fredric Mann, from Philadelphia."

"Really? I never heard of him. What did he write?" the tourist asked.

"A check."

There are many kinds of heroes, and Fredric Mann may be considered a hero by concert goers in Tel Aviv. But you don't have to be famous (or wealthy) to be heroic. Nor do you have to pull a child from a burning building or throw yourself atop a hand grenade. Heroes come in many varieties. In fact, you may have never imagined yourself much of a hero, but you could be wrong. I’m not talking about comic book super-heroes, but real people making a real difference.

Heroes should not be confused with celebrities. Fame is fickle. Former American football coach and broadcaster Lou Holtz knew how fleeting fame can be. He once said, "I've been on the top and I've been on the bottom. At Arkansas my first year, we won the Orange Bowl. Then everybody loved me. They put me into the Arkansas Hall of Fame and issued a commemorative stamp in my honor. The next year we lost to Texas and they had to take away the stamp because people kept spitting on the wrong side of it."

Celebrities come and go, but heroes last. Some celebrities are far from heroes, and some heroes are far from famous. But well-known or not, all heroes have something in common. They make a difference.

To my way of thinking, Kenyan runner Kipchoge Keino is a hero. Keino won a gold medal in the 1,500 meters at the 1968 Olympics, in spite of suffering from a gallbladder infection. At later Olympics, he would add another gold and two silvers to his medal collection. Kenya later chose Keino to serve as the running coach for its Olympic teams from 1976 to 1986. Under his guidance, Kenyan runners continued to distinguish themselves in the world of sports.

But that is not why I consider him heroic. He was an outstanding athlete and one of the world's best in his field. His accomplishments are enough for Kenyans, and the world, to celebrate him. But celebrities and heroes are not always the same. Kip Keino is a hero.

You see, for most of their lives together, Kip and his wife Phyllis have been running an orphanage out of their home. In addition to their own seven children, they have raised and nurtured hundreds of other youngsters who needed a loving home. Still, every child is treated like family. And on top of all of this, Kip Keino’s new foundation has built a primary and secondary school in Eldoret, Kenya, to give kids the most important gift a young person can ever receive -- a chance.

Make no mistake. Kip Keino is not a millionaire. But I appreciate what he says about his work: "I think I have been lucky. Now what is important is how I use what I have to help others."

I know that what he says applies to me, too. What is important is how I use what I have to help others -- no matter how little or how much I think I have.

American celebrity Ben Stein put it similarly. He said, "I came to realize that a life lived to help others is the only one that matters."

You see, that is what it means to be a hero. Real heroes are not always famous. Real heroes may not be flashy. They may have never saved a life nor shown extraordinary bravery. But they ardently, even obsessively, live their lives to help others. And they make a difference.

The Way to Be Happy

2011-06-15T09:40:00.000-06:00

Even in religious education one doesn’t always get the answer they expect. In order to teach compassion, one teacher began her class with the question: “What would you do if you were walking along a road and saw a person who was terribly beaten and bruised and covered with blood?”

In a moment of honesty, a little girl replied, “I'd probably throw up.”

There are many professions I should leave alone. I have neither the constitution nor the aptitude for them. And one of those occupations is nursing. Like the little girl, I might seriously embarrass myself. But I deeply admire those compassionate women and men who labor in the nursing profession.

Some years ago, a six-year-old boy from Corvallis, Oregon (United States) suffered burns over 85% of his body. His condition was so severe that several doctors gave up and one hospital would not admit him because they thought he would die anyway.

His life was saved, however, by eight courageous and committed people – his parents, three nurses and three doctors. The nurses emerged as the true heroines in this real-life drama. After other nurses had quit, these women took eight-hour shifts with the boy, seeing him through skin grafts, operations, crucial periods in which death almost gained victory, and dull, dragging days of rehabilitation. The boy grew to dislike them, as he innocently thought they caused his intense pain.

His room was like a dungeon. It measured 12 feet by 12 feet. The door was tightly shut, shades were drawn, heat blazed from a gooseneck lamp shining as a substitute for blankets. The humidity was so high the walls dripped with moisture, and dank air smelled of burned flesh and chlorine-soaked dressings.

The nurses stayed with him, dressed in caps, gowns, masks and gloves as if they were assisting an operation. Within an hour they would be soaked with perspiration. For 14 desperately long months these dedicated three gave their all to the ailing boy. Then, one day, he finally climbed from his bed and walked.

It was a great day! The nurses were rewarded for their tireless effort. The lives of all three were so deepened and their sense of satisfaction so great after fighting off the temptation to quit for 14 months, that each said they’d put forth the effort again.

What caused them to feel so satisfied? I think it was more than simply the fact that the boy lived. Together they attempted something nearly impossible, but also truly worthwhile. They poured their lives out for the sake of someone else.

It is like something American educator Booker T. Washington once said: “Those who are happiest are those who do the most for others.” What these nurses did was significant. They worked hard and they worked selflessly. And in doing so, they found contentment.

Do you want to be happier?

Don't pray for blessings; pray for important work to do.
Don't pray for prestige; pray for a place to serve.
Don't pray for more things to use; pray to become more useful.
Don't pray for greater pleasure; pray for greater purpose.
Don't pray for an easier path; pray for joy on the journey, wherever it leads.

If you do, I believe your prayers will be answered.

Dream-Busters and Dream-Builders

2011-06-12T14:50:00.001-06:00

A little girl was asked to bring her birth certificate to school one day. Her mother wisely cautioned her about the important document and told her to be especially careful with it. But in spite of her good intentions, the child lost it. When she became aware of its loss, she began to cry.

“What’s the problem, Honey?” her teacher asked sympathetically.

The little girl wailed, “I lost my excuse for being born!”

There are enough reasons to say, “Excuse me.” I am not about to apologize for being born.

Some people live, though, as if they are sorry for being different, or for having an opposing opinion than others or for not running with the herd.

Author Linda Stafford was one of those people. When she was fifteen, Linda announced to her English class that she would someday write and illustrate her own books. She remembers that half of the class sneered and the remainder just laughed at her prophecy. To make matters worse, her English teacher responded that only geniuses become writers and then smugly added that she was on track to receive a D as a grade for the semester. Linda broke into tears.

She went home and wrote a sad, short poem about broken dreams and mailed it to a weekly paper. To her astonishment, the newspaper not only chose to print the poem but they also sent her two dollars for publishing her writing. When she shared the news with her teacher, her only reply was that "everybody experiences some blind luck from time to time."

But as if to defy her teacher’s assertion, Linda continued to write. During the next two years, she sold dozens of poems, letters, jokes and recipes. And by the time she graduated from high school, she had a scrapbook filled with her published writing.

Linda never again mentioned a word of it to her teachers or to her fellow students. Why not? Some people are "dream-busters," Linda would later say. And her dream was too important, and, at this time in her life, too fragile to risk being shattered by careless comments from people who didn’t believe in her.

Mark Twain said this about dream busters: “Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.”

Linda made no apologies for her ambitions, for her confident belief in herself or for wanting something more out of life. Even at her young age, she somehow knew that nobody on planet earth was more (or less) valuable than she; nobody was more deserving of happiness. She knew that she needed no excuse for wanting to make the most of her brief time in this life and eventually she did become the author she desired to be.

I have found plenty of dream-busters over the years, and I imagine that you have, too. But I have also discovered a few dream-builders along the way – people who encouraged my aspirations and challenged me to take the next step. It was the dream-builders who said yes when others said no. They were the ones who held my vision before me when I wanted to turn away in discouragement. They protected my dreams and reminded me who I really was.

It has always been the dream-builders who made the greatest impact. It is to them I am most grateful.

If some people are dream-busters, others are dream-builders. And I know which ones to listen to. I also know which I want to be.

To Remember Is to Understand

2011-06-06T13:37:00.000-06:00

Does this sound familiar?

James was cleaning out the attic one day when he came across a ticket from a shoe repair shop. The date stamped on the ticket showed it was over eleven years old. He felt sure the shoes would not still be there, but decided to stop by and check anyway.

He handed the ticket to the man behind the counter, who scowled at the date. "Just a minute," said the clerk. "I'll have to look for these." He disappeared into a back room.

After a few minutes, the clerk called out, "What do you know – here they are!"

"That's terrific!" said James, hardly believing his good fortune.

The man came back to the counter, empty-handed. "They'll be ready Thursday," he said.

I hope James is the patient sort.

We should all be masters of patience; after all, we've had plenty of practice. But mustering patience with unreasonable people (including ourselves) may seem more than we can manage some days.

I heard about an elderly patient in an American hospital who was recovering from a medical procedure. He decided to take a look at his recovery-room record attached to the bed frame. He leafed through the pages, then stopped at one particular notation and furled his brow in consternation.

"I know I was in a bit of a muddle, but I didn't realize I was that bad," he said apologetically to his nurse. "I hope I didn't offend anyone."

She glanced to the spot where he pointed. “Don’t worry,” she said. “SOB doesn’t mean what you think. It stands for ‘short of breath.’”

But I suspect that in some cases it does have a double meaning. Especially if the patient is in pain, fearful or just plain out of sorts. (And that goes for some of the hospital staff, too.)

Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher once said, “I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.” But we don’t always get our own way. And patience can be taxed beyond reason.

Where does understanding come from when it feels as if there is nothing left?

It can come from the simple act of remembering. To remember is to understand. It is not about gritting one’s teeth and forcing oneself to be more patient. It is actually easier than that.

Do you remember what it was like to be a child? No parent should ever forget. And to remember is to understand.

Do you remember what it was like to be a student? Every teacher should try to remember, and especially if they feel frustrated.

Do you remember what it is like to be a patient? Doctors and nurses show more empathy after they have also spent time in a hospital bed.

Do you remember what it was like to be lonely? To be first? To be last? To fail? To succeed? To be afraid? To remember is to understand.

And to understand is to be patient.

Do You Know Who You Are?

2011-05-30T13:30:00.000-06:00

Comedian Woody Allen says, "My one regret in life is that I am not someone else."

I heard of one man who took trying to be someone else too seriously. Newspapers reported that Dutch police arrested a man in the town of Rosendaal. They found him in possession of 186 false papers, including 29 Nigerian passports, 30 British passports, 74 Dutch work permits, 12 British driving licenses, 18 birth or death certificates, 2 British student cards, an international driving license and 20 forged checks. Once he was in custody, they still had a problem. They weren’t sure who he was.

I have no regrets that I'm not someone else. But that doesn't mean I've always been clear about just who I am. I like the way A. A. Milne's “Winnie the Pooh” (THE WORLD OF POOH) puts it:

"How can you get very far,
If you don't know who you are?
How can you do what you ought,
If you don't know what you've got?"

One man said, “I go to a doctor and pay him 75 dollars an hour, and all he does is ask me the same question my father used to ask me all the time: ‘Who do you think you are, anyway?’” But that's not a bad question, really. How can you get very far, if you don't know who you are?

I think I spent the first 20 or 30 years of my life trying to define who I really was. I thought I’d never know what to study in school and I was sure I’d never figure out what kind of person I might be happy spending my life with. I managed to get through that phase of life and then, just when I thought I knew myself fairly well, I discovered I’d changed. And through the years I keep changing. It seems like I’ve always been up against the question, “Who am I -- really?”

I appreciate Benjamin Kubelski’s story. In 1902, his father gave him a violin for his eighth birthday. It cost $50, a small fortune in those days, and especially for a recently immigrated Russian family. Benjamin did well and was playing concerts as a teenager. At age 18 he teamed up with a woman pianist as a musical team in Vaudeville.

But he suspected the violin did not satisfy his heart’s desire. Then one night, Benjamin impulsively decided to tell the audience about a funny incident that had happened during the day. He later said, “The audience laughed and the sound intoxicated me. That laughter ended my days as a musician.” And it began his life career as entertainer Jack Benny.

He found who he was and everything fit into place. How can you get very far, if you don't know who you are?

But how do you figure out who you are? Short of taking a battery of aptitude and personality tests (which, by the way, do have their place), there are two simple and accurate ways of knowing yourself better.

First, ask someone who loves you. Ask her to describe you in as much detail as she can. Her opinion may not be conclusive, but others see us differently than we see ourselves.

And second, pay attention to what stirs your emotions. I sometimes ask people, “What do you like to do so much that you would do it for free if you could?” What makes your heart sing?

How can you get very far, if you don't know who you are? Answer these simple questions and I think you’ll know.

Making the Best of You

2011-05-21T20:13:00.000-06:00

A middle-aged man decided to take up jogging. He found a sports shop carrying a wide variety of running shoes. While trying on a pair, he noticed a little pocket on the side of the shoe.

“What’s this thing for?” he asked the sales clerk.

“Oh, that's to carry spare change so you can call a friend to come pick you up when you've jogged too far.”

That would probably never be a problem for me. I know avid runners and gym enthusiasts who can’t wait to get out in the morning and work up a healthy sweat before starting the day. THEY are likely to jog too far. I know others, however, who exercise with a grim determination to get through the workout because they know it’s good for them, like a child forcing down the healthy breakfast cereal when all the while wishing she were eating the sugary bowl advertized on television. Whereas the first group is anxious to work out, the second group needs a good reason to push through the workout session. I find myself squarely in the second group. I cannot imagine myself jogging too far.

Of course, if I begin each morning with an exercise regimen, I feel better all day long. And I know I am healthier. But when I wake up feeling good -- no aches, no soreness, no stiff muscles – I suddenly find good reasons to skip my routine. I am too busy today; I just need some quiet time; there is something else I’d rather do. It is the aching back and stiffness in my neck that prods me to do what I ought to do anyway.

Oddly enough, my sore and aching muscles are probably good for me – they motivate me to take better care of myself. It’s not about just making the best of my aches and pains -- THEY are actually making the best of me.

Abraham Lincoln knew the value that difficulties can bring to a life. One of his cabinet appointees, Edwin Stanton, frequently found flaws with the president and criticized him -- sometimes in public. But Lincoln seemed to show excessive patience with him. The president was asked why he kept such a man in a high level position.

Lincoln characteristically responded with a story. He told about a time he was visiting with an old farmer. He noticed a big horsefly biting the flank of the farmer's horse. Lincoln said he reached over to brush the fly away. As he did so, the farmer stopped him and cautioned, "Don't do that, friend. That horsefly is the only thing keeping this old horse moving."

Even life's many irritations and problems have their place. That horsefly kept the horse moving. Edwin Stanton, no Yes Man, kept the president sharper, honest and self-reflective. My sore muscles and aching back keep me exercising regularly.

Sometimes we make the best of our problems. But how wonderful it is when those problems can make the best of us.

Touching the Sky

2011-05-08T19:56:00.001-06:00

We don't always get the results we want. I read that a few years ago a Ukrainian businessman bought a pager for each member of his staff as a New Year's gift. He was returning from the store when the pagers caused him to wreck his car. Just as he was pulling up to his office, all 50 pagers on his back seat suddenly screeched. He was so frightened he let go of the steering wheel and the car plunged into a lamp post.

After he assessed the damage to his automobile, the businessman turned his attention to the message on the pagers. It read, "Congratulations on a successful purchase." The company's cheery greeting didn't create the customer satisfaction they were hoping for. But if nothing else, it proved something significant: folks notice your enthusiasm. And one way or another, they seem to respond to it.

A story is told about playwright and U.S. Ambassador to Italy Claire Booth Luce. She became a Roman Catholic late in life and, like many others converted to something new, she was zealous and vocal about her new faith.

A reporter once spotted her engrossed in deep conversation with the pope. He crept within earshot, all the while wondering what important issues the ambassador and the pope could be discussing. Finally, he was close enough to hear the pope say to Ms. Luce, “But I already am a Catholic!” You have to appreciate her passion. . . .

I'm drawn to people with passion -- people who live their lives fully and enthusiastically. As an insect is drawn to light, I am drawn to their energy and vitality. I actually FEEL alive around people who ARE alive. I want to be around them and hope that some of their verve for living just may rub off on me.

Maybe it's like the poet Rumi said: "Only from the heart can you touch the sky." I spend a lot of time living from the head. But when I go to that place where I feel my deepest enthusiasm and passion, I feel as if I can touch the sky. Anything might be possible. And the truth is that good ideas only go so far. It's people with passion that finally make a difference.

Dr. Seuss (Theodor Seuss Geisel) had a good idea about a new kind of children's book -- one that contains lively illustrations, whacky characters and humorous writing. His enthusiasm led him to write a poem that became his first book. But it seemed that nobody wanted to publish it. Seuss was passionate about his writing, but he realized that an equal measure of enthusiasm and energy would be required if his book were ever to be published. He untiredly peddled his children's book to over twenty publishers before one took a chance on him. Having a great idea was not enough; his passion made the difference.

Charles Goodyear spent every last dollar over five years filled with experiments to try and develop vulcanized rubber. He suffered extreme poverty during those years and was sustained only by his enthusiasm. He eventually succeeded, not because he had the good idea that durable rubber products may have some important uses, but because of the energy he put into his experiments. His good idea was not enough; his passion made the difference.

If I were able to give my children any gift to sustain them in life, I believe I might give them passion for what they do. For if they can live from the heart, they will surely touch the sky.

Giving Validation

2011-04-29T14:54:00.004-06:00

In a northwestern US city, a woman from out of town parked her car in an attended lot and walked across the street to shop. Hoping to get a discount on the cost of parking, and not familiar with local idioms, she asked, “Do you give validation?”

“Certainly,” replied the store’s manager. “You are an excellent person and I love your hair.”

That might have been worth the cost of parking. I mean, who wouldn’t pay a couple of dollars for the kind of validation that she got?

Mark Twain said, “I can live two months off a good compliment.” But then he also said, “If you can't get a compliment any other way, pay yourself one.” I suppose sometimes that is the only way we can get one.

I’m a strong believer in the power of affirming other people. One time I facetiously told an audience that I have never in my life received a standing ovation. They gave me one -- and I’m here to tell you it isn’t nearly so satisfying when you have to ask for it. Nevertheless, I never underestimate the importance of positive encouragement in a life.

Author Alan Loy McGinnis cites an interesting study about the power of positive encouragement (http://tinyurl.com/6xg9mba). He tells of a second-grade teacher who complained that her children were spending too much time standing up and roaming around the room rather than working.

Two psychologists spent several days at the back of the room with stopwatches observing the behavior of the children and the teacher. Every ten seconds they noted how many children were out of their seats. They counted 360 unseated children throughout each 20-minute period. They also noted that the teacher said "Sit down!" seven times during the same period.

The psychologists tried an experiment. The asked the teacher to tell the children to sit down more often. Then they sat back to see what would happen. This time they noted that she commanded her students to sit down 27.5 times in an average 20-minute period, and now 540 were noted to be out of their seats during the same average period. Her increased scolding actually made the problem worse. (Interestingly, when she later backed off to her normal number of reprimands, the roaming also declined to the exact same number recorded previously in just two days.)

Then the experimenters tried a different tack. They asked the teacher to refrain from commanding the children to sit down altogether, and to instead quietly compliment those children who were seated and working. The result? Children's roaming decreased by 33%. They exhibited their best behavior when they were complimented more and reprimanded less.

There is immense power in affirming others. Leaders who get results know this. People who draw others to themselves and who motivate others to great action are almost always those who encourage more than criticize; who compliment more and reprimand less.

Perhaps the woman’s question is the correct one after all. “Do you give validation?” I hope I can always answer YES.

The Gift of Music

2011-04-20T11:20:00.000-06:00

“Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees.

Time can break your heart, have you begging please.

Beyond the door there's peace I'm sure,

And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven.”

These lyrics were penned in response to tragedy, when guitarist Eric Clapton’s son Conor fell to his death from a New York high-rise window. The music helped him heal.

In 1994 the city of Sarajevo was daily under siege. Mortars and artillery fire instantly transformed once beautiful buildings into rubble. Sarajevo’s citizens were frightened, weary and increasingly despondent. Then, one February day, a mortar shell exploded in the market killing 68 civilians. Many more were wounded and maimed from the blast.

A cellist with the Sarajevo symphony could no longer stand the chaos. He took his cello to the market, sat down amidst the rubble and played a concert. When he finished, he simply took up his instrument and left.

Every day, for 67 days, he came to the market. Every day he played a concert. It was his gift to the city. He did it because he felt his community must find a way to survive, and music can bring hope.

Music is a great gift. When I need to start my day in the right frame of mind, sometimes I’ll sing. Music aligns my thoughts and emotions; my mind and spirit. When I awake in the middle of the night, I go back to sleep best if I sing in my head. Music calms and centers. When I find myself experiencing a moment of happiness, I’ll sometimes sing out loud. (It works best when others are not present.) Music expresses joy like nothing else can.

One of the greatest cellists of all time was Pablo Casals. He exiled himself from his native Spain during the regime of Francisco Franco and became a world citizen and a great humanitarian. Casals passionately desired that the world exist in peace and harmony. He said once that if all the orchestras in the world were to play Beethoven's 9th Symphony simultaneously, then peace would come to the world.

I wonder if that is true. But if not peace, then perhaps joy might come. Or hope. Or healing.

It’s the gift of music.

Finding the Right Words

2011-04-11T21:13:00.000-06:00

Have you ever noticed how hard it can be to find the right words?

It was once said that Al Smith, former governor of New York, was making his first inspection of Sing Sing prison. The warden asked him if he might say a few words to the prisoners.

The governor began, "My fellow citizens." But he suddenly felt confused about whether the inmates may have forfeited their citizenship. So he took a second stab at it: "My fellow convicts.” There was a roar of laughter and now he became flustered. He gallantly tried a third time: "Well, anyhow, I'm glad to see so many of you here." There is no record of what he said after that.

I have frequently struggled to find the right words. And there are times I am certain the right words do not even exist. Like when I’m trying to say something hopeful or comforting in a particularly frightening situation.

More than once I have been called to a hospital emergency room or to be with a family surrounding the bed of a dying relative. And more than once I’ve been at a loss for words. What is the right thing to say at a time like that? What can I say that doesn’t sound hollow or trite or like I’m just not in touch with the feelings of others who are hurting?

A lot of us really don’t know what to say at these times. And too often the professionals who work daily with people on the ragged edge of hope have become so desensitized they have lost any ability to comfort.

A wise obstetrician at a university teaching hospital once made a comment about comforting those who suffer. Someone asked the doctor what advice he offered his students, future doctors and nurses, when caring for mothers who gave birth to stillborn infants.

The doctor paused for a moment in thought. Then he said this: "I tell them that they need two eyes. One eye is not enough; they need two eyes. With one eye they have to check the I.V. And with the other eye they have to weep. That's what I tell them," he said. "I tell them that they need two eyes."

That may be some of the wisest advice I’ve ever heard. We may not always need to figure out what to say; we really only need two eyes. In Emily Dickinson’s words, “Saying nothing... sometimes says the most.” And this from a poet whose life was all about finding exactly the right words.

I agree with the doctor – empathy goes a long way. And somehow finding the ability to feel, even for a few moments, what another is feeling may speak more loudly than the best words I can choose. It speaks to the fact that I care; I understand. It says that I am willing to share their pain so they do not feel so alone. It says I want to be fully present with them and to walk alongside of them, difficult as it may be. My presence is something they can draw real strength and hope from.

Come to think of it, maybe Dickinson did get it right: saying nothing... sometimes says the most. And saying nothing at all may be saying just the right words.

Who Is Packing Your Parachute?

2011-03-30T11:45:00.000-06:00

A stone-age hunter tracked a set of paw prints through the grass lands. He eventually came upon the largest and most ferocious looking saber-toothed tiger he had ever seen. The animal was recently killed and a small man stood beside it.

Amazed, he asked: "Did you kill that?"

"Yes."

"How could a little guy like you put down a huge beast like that?"

"I killed it with my club," the man replied.

“Wow!” the astonished hunter exclaimed. "How big is your club?"

The man thought for a moment. "I guess there are about 30 of us."

We may not be hunting saber-toothed tiger, but we all need some help to get through this life. We need people who are ready to assist. People who will encourage, teach, challenge, support and watch out for us. One of the best metaphors I know for such people comes from Charlie Plumb, a public speaker and retired naval officer.

After Plumb graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy, he flew jets in Vietnam. He was shot down by a surface-to-air missile after 75 combat missions. He ejected and parachuted into the jungle. The Vietcong captured him and held him prisoner for six years in North Vietnam. Today, Plumb lectures on lessons learned from that experience.

He likes to tell the story of a day when he and his wife were sitting in a restaurant and a man at another table approached them. “You’re Plumb!” the man said. “You flew jet fighters in Vietnam from the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk. You were shot down!”

“How in the world did you know that?” asked the former pilot.

“I packed your parachute!” he said. Plumb gasped in surprise. The man pumped his hand and continued, “I guess it worked!”

Plumb assured him it did. “If your chute hadn’t worked, I wouldn’t be here today.”

The pilot couldn’t sleep that night, thinking about the stranger. He wondered how many times he might have seen him on the ship and not spoken because he was a fighter pilot and the man who packed his chute was “just a sailor.” He thought of the many hours the sailor had spent on a long wooden table in the bowels of the carrier, carefully weaving the shrouds and folding the silks of each chute, holding in his hands each time the fate of someone he didn’t know.

When Plumb lectures, he often asks his audience, “Who’s packing your parachute?” He is asking: who is watching out for you? Can you identify the people who have packed your parachute over the years and those who are packing it today?

I think of a music teacher who taught me that it was not enough for me to learn the instrument. I must also have fun with it. Ever since, music has been a source of supreme joy for me.

I think of a school teacher who, after listening to a reading of a short story I performed before the class, described the impact of that story on him. That day I fell in love with story-telling and understood the important role stories can play in a person’s life.

I think of a young woman who believed in me and instilled within me a life-long belief in myself.

I can think of many people who have packed my parachute. In their own way, each helped me land a little more safely. Some have been true teachers for me, some have been compassionate healers, and some have put me in touch with deep, spiritual values. They influenced me more than they ever knew.

Who is packing your parachute? And just as important, whose parachutes are you packing? Who looks up to you? Who may depend on you for courage or encouragement? For understanding or guidance?

To those who have packed my parachute over the years, I am indebted.

For those who are packing it yet today, I give thanks.

And to those whose parachutes I am packing, I promise to do my best.

Building a Boat

2011-03-23T11:34:00.001-06:00

Abraham Lincoln once said, "I will prepare, and some day my chance will come." When his chance came, he was ready.

During his seminary years, one priest-in-training owned a favorite T-shirt. Across the front was emblazoned: "Expectant Father." His chance came and he, too, was ready.

When your chance comes, will you be ready?

I know that sports stories don’t speak to everyone, but if you’ll indulge me, I think Wayne Gretzky has something powerful to teach us about preparation. Former ice hockey superstar Gretzky knew the value of being ready. He broke almost every record imaginable and is generally thought to be the greatest hockey player of all time.

“The Great One,” as he is often called, is not particularly big – he stands at 5 feet 11 inches tall and weighed about 170 pounds during his career. He never skated particularly fast, his shot was not high-powered and he often placed dead last on regular strength tests administered to his team. So what made him so great?

Gretzky attributes his stardom to practice and preparation. He practiced stick handling in the off-season with a tennis ball, as the ball was harder to control than a puck. In practice he innovated. He practiced bouncing the puck off the sideboards to his teammates until that technique became a regular part of his play. Then he worked on bouncing the puck off the net. He became so accomplished at these maneuvers that he sometimes said, "People say there's only six men on the ice, but really, if you use the angle of deflection of the board, there's seven. If you count the net, that's eight. From the opening face-off, I always figure we have 'em eight-on-six."

The Great One was so great because, when his chance came to make an impact, he was ready. And because he was ready, chances came again and again.

I’ve learned this: it doesn’t matter what awaits me just across the sea if I haven’t built a boat.

Many years ago a friend and I were talking about a speaking engagement I had accepted in Los Angeles. “I’d love to go places and speak or lead seminars,” she said.

I asked her, “What would you speak about? What do you want to teach?”

“I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to write a book and lead seminars,” she said, “but I’ve never gotten around to it.”

I’ve heard her speak – she has a great ability to relate to people. She has a charismatic personality. She is intelligent and articulate. I have no doubt she could excel in such a field.

We talked about her need to develop expertise in an area about which she is passionate. We talked about how she might look for opportunities to lead local seminars and teach courses. And we talked about steps she might take toward writing her book, something she had wanted to do for a long time.

But a number of years after our conversation, she has still done none of those things. If her chance comes, she will not be ready. And more likely, since she is not ready, her chance will probably never come.

I often hear people say, “If only I had a chance.” Maybe it’s a chance at a new position, a bigger challenge or to do something different. Perhaps they are waiting for a chance to prove themselves or a chance to really make a difference.

But I wonder -- if I were offered that new challenge today, would I be ready to meet it? Am I prepared to take full advantage?

It’s not enough for me to dream about exotic, new places. I need to build a boat.

Warm Worms

2011-03-17T11:51:00.000-06:00

You may have heard the old story about the world’s most dedicated fisherman. He had out-fished his companion all morning long. They used the same live bait, the same equipment and fished together in the same mountain stream. But he had almost caught his limit of fish while his friend had yet to catch even one.

“What’s your secret?” asked the friend. “I haven’t even gotten a bite!”

The angler mumbled an unintelligible answer, causing his companion to ask again.

The successful fisherman emptied the contents of his mouth into a cupped hand and replied: “I said, ‘You have to keep your worms warm.’”

Talk about dedication. But did you know there are at least three types of fresh water fishermen (or fisherwomen, if that fits better)?

First, there are those who fish for sport. They like to “catch and release,” quickly throwing their catch back into the water. For these anglers, it’s all about recreation.

Then there are those who fish because they like the taste of fish. They are selective. They only keep the fish they will someday eat.

Finally, there are those who fish because they are hungry. If they don’t catch, they don’t eat. It is important for this group to succeed, and they are fully dedicated to what they do.

Whether or not we fish or even eat fish, there is a lesson to be learned here. We are most likely to succeed when we approach a task fully dedicated. Especially if the task before us is difficult or there seems little likelihood of success. Whether we want to patch a relationship, build a new business, write that first novel, kick a drug habit, or go back to school, we should see how willing we are to do what it takes – even if it means keeping the worms warm.

There are two important questions I ask myself to see just how dedicated I am. Question number one: “How much do I want this?” When some people fish, if they don’t catch, they don’t eat. Some things are too important for me to risk failure. So how much do I want to succeed at this relationship, this career or this dream?

The other question I ask is similar: “How hard am I willing to work?” If ‘success’ only comes before ‘work’ in the dictionary, I may have to work harder than I’ve ever worked before. But if I want it enough, the hard work will be worth it.

“Always bear in mind,” said Abraham Lincoln, “that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other one thing.” And that is where it always begins: with a whole-hearted resolution to succeed – in a task, in a calling, in a life.

How much do I want this? And, how hard am I willing to work? Start there, and great things can happen.

Just Ask for It

2011-03-03T10:47:00.000-07:00

A snooty millionaire took some of his upper class friends yachting. They passed a deserted island where a man with a long beard and tattered clothes stood, waving his arms and screaming in their direction.

"Who is that?" asked the friend.

"I don't know," said the host, "but every time we sail by he goes crazy."

That may be an exception to a universal rule, which is that most people are happy to help if they can. But there is another universal principle in play, which is, unless you are stranded on a deserted island, you are probably reluctant to ask for help – especially from a stranger. Thankfully, most of the time we are not coping with a mayday emergency.

I recently learned that the word "mayday" has nothing to do with the month of May. Instead, it comes from the French word "m'aidez," which means "help me." But it is used only as a last resort. The plane is nose-diving. The ship is fatally wounded. “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!” a voice screams over the radio. If help doesn’t arrive quickly, all will be lost.

We laugh at the notion that men are famously bad about asking for directions. But, in truth, most people do not easily ask for the help they need. They wait until they are hopelessly lost, or the marriage is on the brink of collapse or a simple job has become a nightmare before they seek help.

And it is also true that help is not usually too hard to get. But we have to ASK for it.

Entrepreneur Brian Tracy puts it well: "Ask for what you want. Ask for help, ask for input, ask for advice and ideas -- but never be afraid to ask." Or like one man is fond of saying, "You don't always get what you ask for, but you never get what you don't ask for (unless it's contagious)."

I once heard of a little girl who confidently approached a police officer. “Are you a cop?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“My mommy said that if I ever needed help I could ask you.”

“Of course you can,” the officer replied. “What do you need?”

She stuck out her foot. “Can you please tie my shoe?”

Do you need help? It may be easier to get than you think. Just ask for it.

Holy Curiosity

2011-02-22T21:37:00.001-07:00

Not everyone has a good grip of science. But these children’s scientific musings at least show a healthy dose of creativity.

To explain nuclear reactions, one young scientist said, “When they broke open molecules, the found they were only stuffed with atoms. But when they broke open atoms, they found them stuffed with explosions.”

Concerning astronomy, one child said, “Most books now say our sun is a star. But it still knows how to change back into a sun in the daytime.” And another added, “Some people can tell what time it is by looking at the sun. But I have never been able to make out the numbers.”

“Evaporation gets blamed for a lot of things people forget to put the top on,” said a young physics student.

“H2O is hot water, and CO2 is cold water,” a young chemist said. Another student offered this advice: "To collect fumes of sulfur, hold a deacon over a flame in a test tube." (Ouch.)

“Rain is often known as soft water, oppositely known as hail,” reported a budding meteorologist. Another added, “Thunder is a rich source of loudness.”

These young people are just starting a path of life-long learning, and I applaud their efforts to learn more about the universe. Scientific illiteracy will not serve us well in the 21st Century.

But I wonder, as they learn more and their grasp on science becomes firmer, will they still feel awe when they see a falling star? Even if they are able to describe a rainbow in scientific terms, will they still be amazed at its incomparable beauty? I hope so.

And what about matters of the heart and the spirit? Not everything we experience can be measured. How does one measure love and beauty and faith? I wonder if today’s children will also nurture their hearts as they nurture their minds.

I am not one who feels that a scientific mindset and a spiritual outlook are incompatible. I appreciate Albert Einstein’s thoughts on the merging of the spirit and science. He called scientific curiosity “holy.” The physicist said, “The most beautiful and most profound experience is the sensation of the mystical. It is the sower of all true science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead.”

I love science, and I want to learn as much as I can. But as I do, I still want to wonder and stand rapt in awe before the splendor of life and the universe. This is a place of holy curiosity; a place where spirit and science merge. And it’s a place where my soul can be at rest.

Admitting Our Schnozzles

2011-02-11T12:17:00.001-07:00

A humorous story has it that many years ago a soldier was sentenced to be flogged. As if something hilarious were about to happen, he chuckled as they led him away and laughed uproariously throughout the whipping.

When the painful punishment finally ended, the officer in charge demanded, “What’s so funny about a flogging? I don’t think it’s a joke.”

“Why, the joke’s on you,” smiled the soldier. “I’m the wrong man!”

I know I wouldn't laugh about a flogging, but I'd like to take myself a little less seriously. Like the Amish man who was driving his horse-drawn carriage down a modern American street. The Amish, of course, live and dress simply and shun most modern technology. So he must have known he cut an odd figure on the busy thoroughfare. But he had a sense of humor. Affixed to the back of his carriage was a hand lettered sign that read, “Energy efficient vehicle. Runs on oats and grass. Caution: Do not step on exhaust.”

This man may have taken his beliefs seriously. And he may have taken his work seriously. But he didn’t take himself too seriously. I believe that’s key.

I think that comedian Jimmy Durante got it right. Durante was known for his prominent nose and often referred to it in his comedy sketches. In a moment of seriousness, he once said, “It dawned on me that as long as I could laugh, I was safe from the world; and I have learned since that laughter keeps me safe from myself, too. All of us have schnozzles that are ridiculous in one way or another; if not in our faces, then in our characters, minds or habits. When we admit our schnozzles, instead of defending them, we begin to laugh and the world laughs with us.”

I don’t always have the courage to admit my schnozzles; to laugh at my short-comings. I am something of an expert at hiding them. But I do know one thing: if I want to laugh at my foibles, there is plenty of good material at hand. And I also know that when I get better at it, I’ll find myself living a happier and healthier life.

Keeping the Peace

2011-02-04T08:35:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the famous feud between the Hatfields and the McCoys? A squabble started between these families in the states of Kentucky and West Virginia during the American Civil War. After the war, the feud was kept alive by disputes over a fiddle worth $1.75 and a stray razorback hog.

According to Stan Mooneyham, "Dancing on The Strait & Narrow," by Election Day 1882 the situation deteriorated to the point that three McCoy brothers killed Ellison Hatfield because he had insulted them. "Devil Anse," head of the Hatfield clan, had the three McCoys rounded up and tied to bushes within sight of their family cabin; then he put fifty rifle bullets into them. After that it was a life for a life -- sometimes two or three -- and even the women became just part of the body count. Hostilities didn't finally abate until the second decade of the twentieth century. The cost to those two families was immense. Almost thirty deaths were recorded in the most famous example of eye-for-an-eye revenge in U.S. history.

You've seen this scene in the movies: a rugged cowboy pats his pearl-handled six-shooter in a holster hanging from his hip and drawls, "This here is my peacemaker." Peacemaker? Maybe widow-maker. Or orphan-maker. The problem is, shooting people is not a good way to peace. It’s a little like the father who, while spanking his child, said, almost in cadence with each slap, "HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO HIT YOUR SISTER!" Gotta love the irony.

If force and violence can’t bring peace out of chaos, what can? What does it take to make peace? And to keep it?

The answer is clear. Peacemakers are not weapons -- peacemakers are people. You and I. Peacemakers are people with hearts for reconciliation and understanding. In our families; with our neighbors; around the world.

Level-headed and patient people have always been the best hope for a lasting and just peace. That is the only way it has ever worked.

Perhaps that’s why peacemakers are call blessed.

A Choice to Make

2011-01-14T11:27:00.000-07:00

I believe that, at least to some degree, we can each exercise control over our attitudes. And the problem is – if we don’t control our attitudes, they will surely control us.

One farmer took charge of his outlook. He did it by filling his mind with awe and gratitude. He found that doing this gave him more energy to work on problems and to tackle those things that needed his attention. His neighbor’s outlook could not have been more different.

One summer morning he exclaimed, “Look at the beautiful sky. Did you ever see such a glorious sunrise?”

She countered. “It’ll probably get so hot the crops will scorch.”

During an afternoon shower, he commented, “Isn’t this wonderful? Mother Nature is giving the corn a drink today.”

“And if it doesn’t stop before too long,” came the sour reply, “we’ll wish we’d taken out flood insurance on the crops.” And so it went.

Convinced that he could instill some awe and wonder in this hardened woman, he bought a remarkable dog. Not just any mutt, but the most expensive, highly trained and gifted dog he could find. The animal was exquisite. It could perform remarkable and impossible feats that, the farmer thought, would surely amaze even his neighbor. So he invited her to watch his dog perform.

“Fetch!” he commanded, as he tossed a stick into a lake, where it bobbed up and down in the rippling water. The dog bounded after the stick, walked ON the water, and retrieved it.

“What do you think of that?” he smirked.

“Hmmm,” she frowned. “Can’t swim, can he?”

Not to sound too Pollyanna, but I agree with newscaster Paul Harvey when he said that he has never seen a monument erected for a pessimist. A stubbornly positive attitude can often make the difference between happiness and misery, between health and illness and even between life and death.

Viktor Frankl would have agreed. Dr. Frankl chronicled his experiences as a Holocaust and concentration camp survivor in his book Man's Search for Meaning. In it he asserts something really quite remarkable. He says that everything can be taken from a person except one thing. What can never be taken away is the power to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.

We can decide to choose our attitudes every day. That may be one of the most important decisions we will make. I don’t want to neglect making that choice.

What Are You Dreaming About?

2011-01-03T15:45:00.001-07:00

The agricultural school dean was interviewing a freshman. "Why have you chosen this career?" he asked.

"I dream of making a million dollars in farming, like my father," replied the freshman.

The dean was impressed. "Your father made a million dollars in farming?"

"No," the student said. "But he always dreamed of it."

All right. That was corny. But at least this student has a dream, even if it is only a dream about money.

I prefer the story of a man who was discussing with his wife a trip he wanted to take to Alaska. He told her he’d always dreamed of such an adventure. He wanted to travel deep into the wilderness. He wanted to rough it. He talked about how exciting it would be to stay in a log cabin without electricity, to hunt caribou and drive a dog team instead of a car.

"If we decided to live there permanently, away from civilization, what would you miss the most?" he asked his partner.

She replied, "You."

His dream; not hers. A better dream might include her.

This is a time of year we often examine our dreams and goals. I’ve found a couple of questions helpful when I consider which dreams to chase and which to leave alone.

First, does my dream have deep meaning? Or put another way, is it significant and important enough to commit my time and energy toward? What will it ultimately mean if I accomplish this thing I think I want? Probably the pursuit of prosperity alone will not bring the kind of meaning you desire at a deeper level.

The second question is similar. Does my dream spring from the best that is within me? Does it come from a place of love or altruism? Will my life and the lives of those I love be better for it? My best dreams include those I love.

What are you dreaming about?

Peace on Earth

2010-12-24T12:40:00.000-07:00

In the midst of a world at war, Eleanor Roosevelt captured the mood at Christmas 1942. "How completely the character of Christmas has changed this year," she wrote in her newspaper column. "I could no more say to you a 'Merry Christmas' without feeling a catch in my throat than I could fly to the moon!"

In September 1945, U. S. Navy chief radioman Walter G. Germann wrote his son from a ship anchored in Tokyo Bay to tell him that the formal surrender of Japan would soon be signed. "When you get a little older you may think war to be a great adventure -- take it from me, it's the most horrible thing ever done…I'll be home this Christmas..."

Home. To a world at peace.

In 1955 a thirteen-year-old Japanese girl died of "the atom bomb disease" -- radiation-induced leukemia. Sadako Sasaki was one of many who suffered the after-effects of those bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945.

Japanese myth has it that cranes live for a thousand years, and anyone who folds 1000 paper cranes will have a wish granted. So during her illness, Sadako folded paper cranes, and with each crane she wished that she would recover from her illness. She managed 644 cranes before she left this life behind.

Sadako's classmates folded the remaining 356 cranes so that she could be buried with a thousand paper cranes. Friends collected money from children all over Japan to erect a monument to Sadako in Hiroshima's Peace Park. The inscription reads:

This is our cry. This is our prayer. Peace on earth.

Each year people place paper cranes at the base of the statue to recall the tragedy of war and to celebrate humanity's undying hope for peace. In some places around the world, people fold paper cranes each holiday season to use as decorations and as a symbol of their deep desire for lasting peace.

I, too, have a deep desire for a day when war will become a relic of the past. I yearn for a day when we join hearts in union with one another, while beating swords into plowshares…and folding paper into cranes.

Peace on earth. The generation to accomplish it will truly be the greatest generation ever.

Do You Know a Hero?

2010-12-14T10:02:00.000-07:00

Not every Marine is a hero. During field training exercises at Parris Island, South Carolina, one drill instructor threw a pine cone among the recruits and yelled, “Grenade!” The trainees immediately turned away and hit the ground. “Just as I suspected,” chided the drill instructor. “Not a hero among you! Didn’t anyone want to jump on that grenade to save the others?”

A little later the instructor tossed another pine cone and yelled, “Grenade!” This time, all the recruits but one jumped on the “explosive.”

“Why are you still standing there?” the DI demanded.

“Sir,” the recruit replied, “someone had to live to tell about it.”

Not everyone is a hero. But then, not every hero jumps on grenades, pulls terrified children from burning buildings, or wears an impressive uniform.

Do you know a hero? I am not asking you to simply name a favorite celebrity. There is a difference.

Do you know a hero? I think perhaps you do. Heroes, you see, can be found in some of the most unexpected places. I knew a young mother who was slowly dying of cancer, yet she put aside her pain long enough every day to smile and laugh with her children. She tried hard every day to bring sunshine into the gloomy hospital room when her family was present. And I watched her husband fill the roles of single parent and financial provider, and still spend every remaining moment sitting at his mate’s bedside, valiantly encouraging and offering whatever hope he could muster.

I knew a talented teacher who could have worked at a far more lucrative profession, yet was determined to stay in a disadvantaged school in the hope that she could make a difference in a difficult situation. She did it for her students.
I’ve known other heroes, too.

You may have noticed – many of the world’s true heroes will never be confused with action figures. Most have never been to battle, competed athletically nor sung in a pop band. But they have faced nearly impossible challenges with unimaginable determination and courage. They found what it takes to bear the unbearable, forgive the unforgivable, love the unlovable, outlast the unendurable or defeat the undefeatable. And often they do it for the sake of others.

Do you know a hero? Maybe one lives in your home. And perhaps one even looks back at you from the mirror. For it is in everyday battles of the spirit that true wars are fought and won. And it is those real-life heroes who give the rest of us hope and remind us that anything is possible.

Do you know a hero? I think you do.

Getting It Done

2010-12-06T10:15:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel as if you just aren’t getting anything done? “The hurrieder I go, the behinder I get.” Here are three simple steps I try to use to guide my work.

1. Just DO it.

Sometimes we just have to decide to go for it.

A “road warrior” stopped at a small town motel in the American Midwest. "How's business?" he asked the owner.

"Not very good," the tired looking man answered.

The customer nodded sympathetically. "Well, what's your next step? Do you think you’ll look for ways to get your name out there to build up business? Or are you thinking you may have to close?"

"Well," said the owner dryly, "I've never made enough in this motel to stick with it, but I've never lost enough to get out of it. I'm hoping to do one or the other this year."

All he has needed these years was to make a decision – one way or the other. Sometimes we just have to decide to do it.

2. Do it NOW.

One farmer decided to raise a few sheep. He bought a fine ewe which soon gave birth to two lambs. However, had no pen in which to keep his sheep and a wolf ate one of the lambs. The farmer remarked, "Well, I guess I'd rather have one fat lamb than two skinny ones" and decided to accept his fate and not build a fence this year.

A few days later the wolf killed and ate the second lamb. This time the farmer reflected, "I supposed it's all for the best. Now the ewe won't be bothered with them.” With no lambs left, he again chose to wait on building the fence.

A couple weeks later the ewe was eaten up and the farmer became more pensive. "I know it's all for the best, but I'll be darned if I can figure out how.”

I find peace in learning to accept what cannot be changed. But there is also wisdom in doing what needs to be done WHEN it needs to be done.

3. But do it RIGHT.

One poet put it like this:

"If a task is once begun, never leave until it's done.
Be the labor great or small, do it well or not at all."

I think a case can be made that not everything has to be done well all of the time. But more often I have to ask myself, “If I don't have time to do it right, when I will find time to do it over?”

I have a friend who likes to say, “Slow is fast.” What she means is that if I will slow down and do the thing right, I won’t have to redo it later. Slow is fast.

For me, it helps to just do it, do it now and try to do it right. And then maybe celebrate when it’s done.

Much Obliged

2010-11-26T19:41:00.000-07:00

Like most parents, I taught my children to say "thank you" frequently and hoped that giving thanks might become a life habit. After all, silent gratitude isn't much use to anyone. But I think that what I hoped to teach them was not simply to say thanks, but to feel it. I believe that thankful people are happy people.

The late Dr. Fulton Oursler used to tell of an old woman who took care of him when he was a child -- a woman who not only expressed her thanks, but felt it. Anna was a former American slave who, after emancipation, was hired by the family for many years.

He remembered her sitting at the kitchen table, her hands folded and her eyes gazing upward as she prayed, “Much obliged, Lord, for my vittles.” He asked her what vittles were and she replied that they were food and drink. He told her that she would get food and drink whether or not she gave thanks, and Anna said, “Yes, we’ll get our vittles, but it makes ‘em taste better when we’re thankful.”

She told him that an old preacher taught her, as a little girl, to always look for things to be grateful for. So, as soon as she awoke each morning, she asked herself, “What is the first thing I can be grateful for today?” Sometimes the smell of early-morning coffee perking in the kitchen found its way to her room. On those mornings, the aroma prompted her to say, “Much obliged, Lord, for the coffee. And much obliged, too, for the smell of it!”

Young Fulton grew up and left home. One day he received a message that Anna was dying. He returned home and found her in bed with her hands folded over her white sheets, just as he had seen them folded in prayer over her white apron at the kitchen table so many times before.

He wondered what she could give thanks for at a time like this. As if reading his mind, she opened her eyes and gazed at the loving faces around her bed. Then, shutting her eyes again, she said quietly, “Much obliged, Lord, for such fine friends.”

Oursler was deeply influenced by Anna’s uncanny ability to always find some reason to be "much obliged." This wise woman taught him a secret that many people have never learned: she taught him how to be happy.

Those Are My Principles

2010-11-17T11:23:00.000-07:00

Comedian Groucho Marx quipped, "Those are my principles. If you don't like them, I have others."

I have principles. And sometimes I follow them. Well, usually.

I also have opinions. I have opinions about politics, yard sales, health food and fortune cookies. (Actually, more about the fortunes than the cookies.) But they're opinions. I COULD be wrong about some of those things.

And I have opinions about four-year-olds. Like the one who came screaming out of the bathroom to tell his mother that he dropped his toothbrush in the toilet. He watched her fish it out and toss it into the garbage.

That is when something occurred to him, something about when a toothbrush ought to be discarded. He ran to the other bathroom and came out with his mother’s toothbrush. Holding it up, he announced, “We better throw this one out too then . . . it fell in the toilet a few days ago.”

That confirms at least one of my opinions about four-year-olds.

But it also points to something more than an opinion – a principle. In this case, the principle is about the importance of trying to do the right thing, even if you’re a few days late in doing it. Martin Luther King, Jr. put it well: "The time is always right to do what is right."

And one like it is this: doing the right thing, even in little things, is never a little thing. And that’s not just an opinion. It’s a principle that works.

It's a Choice

2010-11-01T16:10:00.000-06:00

One man tells of driving a long and lonely road, the last 65 miles of it unpaved, in order to watch Hopi Indian ceremonial dances in the state of Arizona. After the dances, he returned to his car only to find that it had a flat tire. He put on the spare and drove to the only service station on the Hopi reservation.

“Do you fix flats?” he inquired of the attendant.

“Yes,” came the answer.

“How much do you charge?” he asked.

With a twinkle in his eye, the man replied, “What difference does it make?”

This is what has been called a “Hobson’s choice.” A Hobson’s choice is a situation that forces a person to accept whatever is offered or go without.

According to Barbara Berliner (The Book of Answers), the phrase was inspired by sixteenth-century entrepreneur Thomas Hobson, who hired out horses in strict rotation at Cambridge University. There was no choosing by the customer – it was strictly Hobson’s choice.

But most of the time we really do have a choice, and the choice we make does make a difference. We may not always believe it. We may feel as if we have no choice, but almost always there is a choice in the matter. And when we realize that most of what we do we do by choice, then we are taking control of our own lives.

Someone challenged me to try an experiment that completely changed my perspective. “For the next seven days,” he said, “eliminate the words ‘I have to’ from your vocabulary and substitute the words ‘I choose to.’ Don’t say, ‘I have to work late tonight.’ Instead, say, ‘I choose to work late.’ When you choose to do it, you take control of your life. Instead of saying, ‘I have to stay home,’ try ‘I choose to stay home.’ The way you spend your time is your choice. You set the priorities. You are responsible. You have control.”

In just seven days I was no longer saying “I have to” and I felt better about my decisions. I learned that there is very little in this life I actually HAVE to do. You and I decide to do certain things because we believe that it will be for the best. When we eliminate “I have to” from our vocabularies, we take control.

Try it for a week (after all, it’s your choice) and you see what happens. I think you’ll see it’s a change for the better.

Do You Want to Be Right?

2010-10-20T18:23:00.000-06:00

I heard a funny story about a cowboy who ambled into the local blacksmith shop and picked up a horseshoe, not realizing it had just come from the forge. He immediately dropped the hot shoe, shoved his seared hand into his pocket and tried to act nonchalant.

The blacksmith half smiled and asked, "Kinda hot, wasn't it?"

"Nope," replied the cowboy, "just don't take me long to look at a horseshoe, that's all."

I chuckle because I don’t enjoy admitting mistakes, either. Nope, I’m fine…I meant to do that.

Furthermore, when I think I’m right, I usually want people to know it. And when I’m IN THE RIGHT, it’s hard to hold me back. “Hey, I’m the injured party here. I didn’t do anything wrong. I can prove it!” I don’t suffer righteous indignation quietly.

I learned of a minister who left his pulpit to go to medical school and become a doctor. An old friend saw him several years later and expressed surprise at his career change, but said he assumed it had been because he could care for people in a more physical way now that he was practicing medicine.

"Not at all," the doctor responded honestly, "the reasons were purely economic. I discovered that people will pay more money to care for their bodies than for their souls."

Several years lapsed before the friend saw him again and discovered that he had left medicine for law. "What was your reason this time?" the friend asked.

"Simple economics again," replied the ex-minister, ex-doctor attorney. "I learned that people will pay more to prove they are right than to care for either body or soul."

I suppose I’m not the only person who enjoys being right. Is that part of our human nature? In conflict, it seems most folks want to come out on top. When they are wronged, they want justice. If no justice is forthcoming, they lament about the unfairness of it all and indignantly brood in self pity. Many people will go to great lengths to prove they are right – and at tremendous cost, not only financially, but in other ways.

Do you know how difficult it is to insist on being right? And how high the cost?

Being the injured party is costly to physical and emotional health. Some people stew about the injustice of it all while their stomachs are eaten away by ulcers. While they wait for an apology or a court case to vindicate them, they grow resentful and bitter. They obsess on the cause of their pain and allow it to rob them of one of their most valuable assets – their happiness. In the end, many of them discover they paid far too high a price to be right.

An important question for me is this: Do I want to be right, or do I want to be well? And a related question is this: Do I want to be right, or do I want to be happy? Because usually I have to choose.

But it’s a choice I really ought to make.

A Way to Find Enjoyment

2010-10-11T11:58:00.000-06:00

At one time, Bangkok television aired the American situation comedy LaVerne and Shirley. For whatever reason, officials there believed that a disclaimer was necessary for the Thailand audience, so this subtitle was added to each show: “The two women depicted in the following episode are from an insane asylum.”

Personally, I’m thankful there is a little silliness in the world. And I don’t mind not acting like everybody else. Like the “irrepressible” educator and speaker Leo Buscaglia once said: “I don’t mind if people think I’m crazy. In fact, I think it’s great! It gives me tremendous latitude for behavior.”

Buscaglia knew how to laugh. And I think knowing how to laugh and have fun is an important part of living.

Someone asked me what I do for fun. I felt I should answer with something others enjoy, like golf or skiing. But my idea of fun is not usually associated with entertainment and recreation. It is more about squeezing as much enjoyment into every day as I can. Instead of looking for something fun to do, I try to make whatever I do a little more fun. And if I can’t always do things I enjoy, I can learn to enjoy more of the things I do.

I like the word “enjoyment” because it has “joy” inside of it. So does the word “rejoice.” And rejoicing is a way to find enjoyment of life.

Speaking of Leo Buscaglia, he used to tell a story about his mother and their "misery dinner." It was the night after his father came home and said it looked as if he would have to go into bankruptcy because his partner had absconded with their firm's funds. His mother’s response was to sell some of her jewelry to buy food enough for a grand feast. At first, other members of the family scolded her for it. But she told them that "the time for joy is now, when we need it most, not next week." They learned to appreciate the hopeful attitude that lifted them out of fear and into joy.

I want to learn to be happy even in those difficult and trying times. I won’t be happy FOR them (who likes problems?), just IN them. I need the soothing medicine of laughter when it hurts. I want to learn that the time for joy is now, when I need it most.

Maybe it sounds silly, but I want to learn to rejoice in all things. And If I’m doing that well, it really doesn’t matter what I like to do for fun.

A Humble Spirit

2010-09-28T10:34:00.000-06:00

In his own eyes, Mike was the most popular guy around. “A lot of women are gonna be totally miserable when I marry,” he boasted to his date.

“Really?” she said. “And just how many women are you intending to marry?” (Maybe you knew that guy.)

But I like the story of a young woman who wanted to go to college. Her heart sank, however, when she read the question on the admission form that asked, "Are you a leader?" Being both honest and conscientious, she wrote, "No," and returned the application, expecting the worst.

To her surprise, she received this letter from the college: "Dear applicant: A study of the admission forms reveals that this year our school will enroll 1,452 new leaders. We would like to accept you because we feel it is imperative that they have at least one follower."

Sometimes a little bit of humble pie goes well with a rich meal.

Actually, what passes for conceit in many people is often just a plea for attention. A poor sense of self may cause one to want to be the prominent star in every constellation. Humility, on the other hand, does not require that one shine less brightly than others, simply that all be given opportunity to shine.

That great 19th Century African American educator Booker T. Washington exemplified the power of a simple and modest spirit. A story is told of a day when Washington, then a professor at Tuskegee Institute in Alabama, happened to pass the mansion of a wealthy woman as he walked to work.

The woman did not recognize him and called out, “Hey you! Come here! I need some wood chopped!” She was a product of her southern post-Civil War culture and simply perceived him as a black man who was there to do her bidding.

Without a word, Dr. Washington peeled off his jacket, picked up the ax and went to work. He not only cut a large pile of wood, he also carried the firewood into the house and arranged it neatly by the fireplace.

He had scarcely left when a servant said to the woman, “I guess you didn’t recognize him, ma’am, but that was Professor Washington!”

Embarrassed and ashamed, the woman hurried over to Tuskegee Institute to apologize. The great educator respectfully replied: “There’s no need to apologize, madam. I’m delighted to do favors for my friends.”

The professor may have taught one of his greatest lessons that day. It was a lesson about astronomy: he taught that every star can shine without one out-shining all the others. It was a lesson about peace: he taught how self-interest must often be set aside for the good of the whole. And it was a lesson about spirituality: he taught about the power of a meek and humble spirit in a world where aggression is too-often confused with strength.

It is a lesson we are still learning.

Needing a Nudge

2010-09-22T11:17:00.003-06:00

A wiser person than I once said that humans have four basic needs. One is the need to be nurtured. Next is the need to be needed. Third, the need to be noticed. And finally, the need to be nudged.

Although I never had much luck nudging my own children, I've often thought of a story about a small boy who could not be nudged to quit banging a drum. Various attempts were made to do something about quieting the child.

One person told the boy that he would, if he continued to make so much noise, perforate his eardrums. This reasoning was too advanced for the child, who was neither a scientist nor a scholar.

A second person told him that drum beating was a sacred activity and should be carried out only on special occasions. A third person offered the neighbors plugs for their ears; a fourth gave the boy a book; a fifth gave the neighbors books that described a method of controlling anger through biofeedback; a sixth person gave the boy meditation exercises to make him placid and docile. None of these attempts worked.

Eventually, a wise person came along with an effective motivation. He looked at the situation, handed the child a hammer and chisel, and asked, "I wonder what is INSIDE the drum?"

No more problem.

I agree that we sometimes need to be nudged. At times, we may need to be nudged into healthier behaviors. Or maybe nudged out of destructive relationships or patterns. Or simply nudged to think a little bigger; to do or be a something more challenging and less mediocre.

No doubt, that is why the motivational industry is so successful. (And no, it is probably not true that if you listen to your motivational tapes backwards you will become a failure. I think a couple of you may have been worried about that…)

It seems to me that good leaders know about this basic human need to be prodded, challenged and encouraged. They also know that the best way to nudge someone is often simply to invite them along a path that is more appealing than the one they’ve chosen. The best leaders teach us to dream and tempt us to do more than we ever thought possible. They challenge us to be a part of something great.

Writer Antoine de Saint-Exupery said, "If you want to build a ship, don't drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work, and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the vast and endless sea." Sometimes all we need is a nudge to desire something magnificent.

Is this the nudge you need?

Following Your Bliss

2010-09-13T11:13:00.000-06:00

Who was it that said, “Follow your dream – unless it's the one where you're at work in your underwear during a fire drill…”?

Author Joseph Campbell’s advice was to “follow your bliss.” American painter Grandma Moses did that. She actually started painting at age 76, after arthritis forced her to give up embroidery. “If I hadn't started painting, I would have raised chickens,” she once said.

And I heard of a bus driver in Chicago who followed his bliss with some surprising results. He sings while he drives. That’s right... sings. And I don’t mean he sings softly to himself, either. He sings so that the whole bus can hear. All day long he drives and sings.

He was once interviewed on Chicago television. He said that he is not actually a bus driver. “I’m a professional singer,” he asserted. “I only drive the bus to get a captive audience every single day.”

His “bliss” is not driving a bus, though that may be a source of enjoyment for some people. His bliss is singing. And the supervisors at the Chicago Transit Authority are perfectly happy about the whole arrangement. People actually let other buses pass by so they can ride with the “singing bus driver.” They love it.

Here is a man who believes he knows why he was put here on earth. For him, it is to make people happy. And the more he sings, the more people he makes happy. He has found a way to align his purpose in living with his occupation. By following his bliss, he is actually living the kind of life he believes he was meant to live.

Are you following your bliss? When you do, you may discover that you are experiencing the kind of life you feel you were meant to live. And what’s more, you will be happy.

Toll Road to Success

2010-09-01T10:24:00.000-06:00

An airline passenger struck up a conversation with a stranger who was sniffling, apparently due to a recent head cold.

"Look at me!" the healthy one boasted. "Never a day's sickness in my life, and all due to simple food. Why, from the age of twenty to that of forty I lived an absolutely simple, regular life -- no pampering, no late hours, no extravagances. Every day, in fact, I was in bed regularly at nine o'clock and up again at five in the morning. I ate a plain meal at noon and, after that, exercised for an hour, then..."

"Excuse me," interrupted the sniffling stranger in the next seat, "but what were you in for?"

That regimented life does sound too much like a prison sentence. Some people can go overboard with a rigid routine. I once went on a near-starvation diet just to drop a few pounds. In two weeks I lost five pounds and the will to live.

Self discipline is important to happiness, but a rigid routine may not be the answer.

Mark Twain gave some advice about discipline. "Do one thing every day you don't want to do," he suggested. I think I can do that. One thing I’ve been putting off. One thing I always said I “ought” to do, but never made the effort.

I believe that doing something important that we don’t want to do every day is a price we pay for success. Call it discipline. Call it duty. Call it paying your dues, for that may be what it really is.

And the other part is this: leave some time to do something you WANT to do, too. Paying your dues gets you where you want to go. Then having fun along the way makes the journey worthwhile.

For me, the “road to success” has been more like a toll road. If I pay that small, daily fee, I can go most anywhere I want. And when I leave enough time for fun, I enjoy the ride.

Paying Attention to Habits

2010-08-20T17:14:00.000-06:00

There was a fire one night at a convent and several nuns who lived on the fourth floor were trapped. They were praying for divine providence to show them a way out of the fire when one of the sisters screamed, "We need to take off our robes, tie them together, and climb down to safety."

Later as they were recounting the event to reporters, they were asked if they were afraid that the crude rope might not hold up. "Oh, no," they said, "Old habits are hard to break."

Do you know the story of the touchstone? It tells of a fortunate man who was told that, if he should find the “touchstone,” its magical powers could give him anything he wanted. It could be found, he was informed, among the pebbles of a certain beach. All he need do is pick up a stone – if it feels warm to the touch, unlike the other pebbles, he has found the magical touchstone.

The man went immediately to the beach and began picking up stones. When he grasped a pebble that felt cold, he threw it into the sea. This practice he continued hour after hour, day after day, week after week. Each pebble felt cold. Each pebble was immediately tossed into the sea.

But then, late one morning, he happened to take hold of a pebble that felt warm, unlike the other stones. The man, whose consciousness had barely registered the difference, tossed it into the sea. He hadn’t meant to, but he had formed a habit, and habits can be hard to break.

Most of my habits are more like routines. I habitually arise about the same time every day – too early, it seems. I exercise. I fix oatmeal for breakfast. Most days I listen to the same kinds of music and even read the same kinds of literature. (I hope I don’t repeat the same old stories.) My routines include those places I like to visit and the people I like to see. It’s all fairly predictable. But what I call routine is more like a series of habits, some of which work well for me and some I should perhaps look at a bit more closely.

In fact, any behavior that I repeat, I reinforce. If I repeat it often enough, it becomes habit. Soon I don’t even think about it – old habits are hard to break. Even good ones.

A Spanish proverb says: “Habits are first cobwebs, then cables.” The metaphor works well for “bad” habits. They first entice, and then ensnare us like a cobweb. And if we continue in the behavior, the web grows stronger and can be as difficult to break as a steel cable.

But some habits can work in our favor. Such as patterns in the way we live our lives. Or positive attitudes and healthy ways of thinking. Our habitual attitudes and behaviors can either help us or hinder us.

The truth is this: we form our habits, then our habits form us. So we ought to pay attention to the habits we’re forming.

Is there a behavior or attitude you would like to make into a habit? Then reinforce it by repeating it at every opportunity. Is there a something you wish to change? Then substitute a different attitude or behavior and repeat the new one every chance you get.

When it comes to habits, practice may not make perfect. But practice will certainly make permanent. Your habits will form you. So form the habits you want and let them mold you into the person you want to be.

Leaning Your Ladder Against the Right Building

2010-08-06T10:27:00.000-06:00

Rabbi Harold Kushner tells a wonderful story about a bright young man who was a sophomore Stanford pre-med student. To reward him for having done so well in school, his parents gave him a trip to the Asia for the summer.

While there he met a guru who said to him, "Don't you see how you are poisoning your soul with this success-oriented way of life? Your idea of happiness is to stay up all night studying for an exam so you can get a better grade than your best friend. Your idea of a good marriage is not to find the woman who will make you whole, but to win the girl that everyone else wants.

"That's not how people are supposed to live," the sage admonished. "Give it up; come join us in an atmosphere where we all share and love each other."

The young man had completed four years at a competitive high school to get into Stanford, plus two years of pre-med courses at the university. He was ripe for this sort of approach. He called his parents from Tokyo and told them he would not be coming home. He was dropping out of school to live in an ashram (a spiritual retreat).

Six months later, his parents got this letter from him:

Dear Mom and Dad,
I know you weren't happy with the decision I made last summer, but I want to tell you how happy it has made me. For the first time in my life, I am at peace. Here there is no competing, no hustling, no trying to get ahead of anyone else. Here we are all equal and we all share. This way of life is so much in harmony with the inner essence of my soul that in only six months I've become the number two disciple in the entire ashram, and I think I can be number one by June!

You can take the boy out of the rat race, but can you take the rat race out of the boy?

I am concerned about some people’s narrow and dangerous ideas about success. Achieving more, getting more, becoming number one. Not that there is anything wrong with healthy achievement. It’s just that there is a difference between earning well and living well.

A successful life is not always a high-achieving life. Sometimes it is about accomplishing a worthwhile goal, even a private, personal victory. Sometimes it is about improving one’s character. Sometimes success is best defined by living into one’s own personal mission, or finding a meaningful purpose to organize one’s life around. And sometimes it is about learning how to live in peace, happiness, generosity and love.

Someone put it like this: "I spent my life frantically climbing the ladder of success. When I got to the top I realized it was leaning against the wrong building." Even if she got to the top first, it made no difference. There is no merit in being first to arrive at the wrong place in life.

You CAN BE successful in ways that matter. And your life can be truly meaningful. If you’re leaning your ladder against the right building, it doesn’t even matter if you make it to the top. Any life spent going after things that count, will count as a life well spent.

Changing with the Changes

2010-07-27T10:58:00.000-06:00

A clerk at a Philadelphia airline counter picked up the telephone and heard the caller ask, “How long does it take to go from Philadelphia to Phoenix?”

She was busy with another customer just then and intended to put the caller on hold.

“Just a minute,” she replied.

As she was about to press the hold button, the caller said, “Thank you,” and hung up.

We live in an age when it seems almost anything is possible. But a trip of a couple thousand miles in a few minutes?

Our time is one of unprecedented change. I understand that 2005 was the first year that there were more spam e-mails sent than cans of Spam sold. And if you wonder what a can of Spam is, then you see how much things have changed.

In a restaurant, a mother noticed her eleven-year-old daughter staring at a movie poster on the wall. The picture portrayed Superman standing in a phone booth. The girl’s mother whispered to her husband, “Doesn’t she know who Superman is?”

He told her it was worse than that. “She doesn't know what a phone booth is.”

I heard someone mention that he believes most of the changes that will ever take place already have occurred. I am sure that isn’t so. Our new reality is one of constant and unending change.

Some changes can be good and some we may feel are not for the best. Most change is uncomfortable and awkward at first. But, of course, if we don’t occasionally feel awkward with what we’re doing, maybe we are not doing anything new. And unless we’d rather live in the past, we’ll be happiest learning to embrace this world of change and to change and adapt along with it.

The world can still be a wonderful and exciting place to live. Do you believe that? If so, change with the changes. Resist your resistance to changing. Your attitude toward change is one of the most important measures of determining whether you can be happy.

Secrets of Staying in Love

2010-07-20T11:10:00.000-06:00

The results are in. I have learned that, after careful consideration and endless debate, The Perfect Man has finally been named: "Mr. Potato Head." Let me tell you why. He's tan. He's cute. He knows the importance of accessorizing. And if he looks at another girl, you can rearrange his face.

I don't know if Mr. or Ms. Potato Head is right for you. But I'm not a big believer in the idea that we MUST find a perfect match, anyway. There are plenty of happy people who are not paired with someone else. And there are also plenty who may not say they found Mr. or Ms. Right, but are living quite happily with Mr. Almost Right or Ms. Close Enough.

Marriage and long-term commitments may not be for everyone, but if you plan to be with someone a long time, can you stay in love? Does a lifetime relationship have to seem more like a life sentence? I think we're tempted to believe that real love is a myth, a long-term relationship is a marathon and romance is for kids. Are there secrets to staying in love? Over the long haul?

I believe in love and romance, and I know it can last a lifetime. I also believe there are a few simple things we can do to help our love grow over the years.

For one thing, find time to date. I don’t mean time to rehash the stuff you talk about all week long. Get away and talk about things that matter. Use this as time to focus on one another, not to solve problems or to raise issues. There are other times to bring up difficult subjects.

Next, understand what delights the other and make it happen. "The romance is over," says Marlys Huffman, "when you see a rosebush and start looking for aphids instead of picking a bouquet." What makes him laugh? What brings her pleasure? And what can you do today to delight each other?

Also, remember why you got together in the first place. When you focus first on his faults you're not thinking about his strengths. When you're busy pointing out her imperfections, you're not enjoying those qualities that attracted you to her initially. Choose to appreciate that which first drew you together and remember it often.

And always – plan enough time for fun. And don’t always plan times for fun -- be spontaneous. Laugh. Go places. Play.

A woman from Charleston, South Carolina was overheard to remark that it was her 53rd wedding anniversary. When asked if she planned a special celebration, she smiled and said softly, "When you have a nice man, it really doesn't matter." I suspect they learned the secrets of staying in love.

A Child Within Us

2010-07-14T10:20:00.000-06:00

It was an annual winter tradition. Every year we packed the children into our family car and spent the day at “The North Pole at Pike’s Peak,” a year-round Christmas resort not far away. And each year they took turns on Santa’s lap while we snapped pictures.

This wasn’t any ordinary Santa, either. Maybe it was the real beard. Or maybe it was the twinkle in his eye when he talked to the kids. He came as close to the genuine Santa as anyone I can imagine. The kindly old man worked as Santa Claus at the resort all year round and, for our family at least, he was just about the real thing.

One year, after we finished with pictures, I said to him, “You must really love children.”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “And adults, too. Many adults want to sit with Santa for a picture!”

“Do you really have adults visit Santa?” I asked in amazement.

“Oh, yes,” he replied. “As a matter of fact, one day 14 of the first 20 people who came to visit Santa were adults. All of us have a child inside of us. It’s a terrible thing when you lose that.”

I think I know what he meant. Children are enthusiastic. They’ve not forgotten how to have fun. And they still feel awe and wonder and excitement.

“It’s a terrible thing when you lose that,” he said. I don’t think he meant that we are to be childish and immature - just childlike. There is a difference.

To be childlike is to be fun-loving and ready to get lost in the present. To be childlike is to be more innocent and trusting. Quicker to embrace life and love. To be childlike is to not yet be jaded by the world or too cynical about people. Those who are childlike laugh easily and often. They know there is plenty about this universe they may not understand, and that is okay. In fact, mystery is good. It fills them with awe.

My children eventually grew up and quit visiting Santa. A few years later I learned that he passed away. As it turns out, even an almost-real Santa doesn’t live forever. I had the honor of speaking at his funeral service and remembered him that day as a man who always kept his childlike sense of enthusiasm, love and joy. He was one of the youngest people I knew.

I only hope I’m that young when I’m that old.

In One Day

2010-06-28T10:47:00.000-06:00

IN ONE DAY

In Turin, Italy, an anonymous citizen wrote the tax office enclosing 10,000 Lira in the envelope and explained he had cheated on his income tax. He said it caused him to lose his appetite. Then he added, "If my appetite doesn't improve I'll send the rest."

It sounds like an easy weight loss program, but I don’t think it could work for me. Guilt doesn't keep me from eating. It has kept me awake more than once, however.

William Wirt Winchester's widow Sarah built a bizarre mansion in San Jose, California, to assuage her feelings of remorse. It is a house built over a 38-year period at a cost of over five million dollars. The 160 room house has stairways that lead to blank walls, corridors that lead to un-openable doors, 13 bathrooms, 13 stair steps, 13 lights to a chandelier, 13 windows to a room…strange.

Her husband was the son of Oliver Fisher Winchester, manufacturer of the famous Winchester repeating rifle. The house is referred to as the "guilt house," and was conceived as a never-ending building project to provide a home for spirits of those killed by Winchester rifles. Instead of addressing her grief and remorse in more therapeutic ways, Sarah’s project occupied the rest of her life.

The late Erma Bombeck called guilt "the gift that keeps on giving." (She also said she came from a family of pioneers – said her mother invented guilt in 1936.) And it CAN be a gift that keeps on giving when it isn't laid to rest. It can keep on giving problems to everyone it touches - emotional, physical and spiritual. It seems that if we don’t find a way to deal with it, guilt may deal with us in some frightening ways.

Do you have unresolved guilt? I'm not talking about "good" guilt, the feelings of shame or remorse that keep us from doing something incredibly stupid or hurtful. I mean unnecessary guilt. Over-anxiety and self-loathing about that which can no longer be changed.

If so, it may help to remember that:

• In one day you can recognize where your feelings of guilt come from.
• In one day you can decide to make necessary amends to those you may have hurt.
• In one day you can decide to ask for forgiveness from others.
• In one day you can exercise your spiritual power and choose to be at one with God and the universe.
• In one day you can decide to be gentler with yourself and allow yourself to experience the healing balm of acceptance.
• In one day you can resolve to learn from the past and not repeat your behavior.
• In one day you can choose to do something constructive with that guilt, and then continue every day until it is only a memory.

And best of all, that one day can be today.

Playing It Safe

2010-06-17T10:39:00.000-06:00

A young reporter wanted to get a feel for agriculture, so he called upon a farmer and said, “How’s your wheat coming along?”

The farmer replied, “I didn’t plant any.”

“Really?” asked the reporter. “I thought this was supposed to be wheat country.”

“Some say it is,” came the reply. “But I was afraid we might not see enough rain this year.”

“Well, what about your corn. How is it doing?” the young man inquired.

“Didn’t plant corn this year. I was afraid of corn blight.”

“Alfalfa?”

“Nope. Afraid the price might drop.”

“Well, then,” asked the reporter, “what did you plant?”

“Nothin’,” the farmer said. “I just played it safe.”

Here is a couple who REALLY played it safe:

The bride, white of hair, is stooped over her cane,
Her footsteps – uncertain – need guiding,
While down the opposite church aisle
With a wan, toothless smile
The bridegroom in wheelchair comes riding.

Now who is this elderly couple, thus wed?
Well, you'll find when you've closely explored it
That here is that rare,
Most conservative pair
Who waited 'til they could afford it!

Do you like playing it safe? If so, I found a Web site you just might love: Dull Men's Club. No excitement there. You’ll never have to leave your comfort zone. The Dull Men's Club, found at http://www.dullmensclub.com, is a place in cyberspace for guys who feel "born to be mild" and enjoy adventure of such activities as watching grass grow and paint dry. I think dull women will like it, too.

But, as most of you know, some of best things in life can only be found after we cast aside a bit of caution. I learned that lesson playing baseball as a child. Ninety feet never seems so long as when you're trying to steal second base. And more than once I was thrown out trying to steal, but what a feeling those times I slid in safely. Joy. Exhilaration. The downside was worth it.

There is a life lesson here: you can't steal second base unless you run away from first. In some things, it is all or nothing. Run flat out or stay back, for there is no changing your mind.

Sometimes it takes courage to do what you’ve never done and go where you’ve never been. It’s like stealing second base – whatever huge decision looms before you, your best solution will likely be made from the side of courage, rather than fear.

If you have any regrets 20 or 30 years from now, what will they be about? I don’t think mine will be about the things I did. I think they will be more about the things I could have done, but was afraid to try. Those times I was afraid to take a chance because I might be rejected or thought to be silly. Those times I was afraid to do something new – make a change – because I was afraid I might fail.

Canadian Claude Thomas Bissell is credited with saying something profound about living life fully. He said,

“Risk more than others think is safe.
Care more than others think is wise.
Dream more than others think is practical.
Expect more than others think is possible.”

You can’t always play it safe if you want to LIVE.

You Have a Chance

2010-06-07T11:32:00.000-06:00

Charles Revson, founder of the successful cosmetic manufacturing firm Revlon, once said, “In our factory we make lipstick. In our advertising, we sell hope.”

We could use a little more hope. I think that is why people buy lottery tickets. One poor mother, who was raising her children on a small salary earned from long hours of hard work, was asked, “Why do you waste your money on a lottery ticket when you can hardly make ends meet?”

“Yeah, I buy a ticket every day,” the woman acknowledged. “But a dollar is not too much to pay for 24 hours of hope.”

There are probably better uses for her money than buying lottery tickets. But she would rather hang onto a little hope than onto her dollar.

We need hope. It is a vital ingredient in life. Without it, far too many people come to the conclusion that they are powerless in the face of difficulties. "It can't be helped," is their motto. Without hope, they won't make needed changes. They feel powerless. Without hope, they will grimly accept the unacceptable and believe that things are about as good as they will ever get.

I've found that I can either be a prisoner of circumstances or a practitioner of hope. I can feel sorry for myself and helpless to do anything about my problems, or I can believe there is a realistic chance for something better.

Norman Cousins, in his book Head First, the Biology of Hope, illustrates the power of hope. He tells of two physicians who were to deliver a paper at a national meeting of cancer specialists. One was truly perplexed. “I don’t understand it, Bob," he said. "We use the same drugs, the same dosage, and the same schedule of treatment. Yet I get a 22% recovery rate and you get a 74% recovery rate. How do you explain that?”

The other responded, “We both use Etoposide, Platinol, Oncovin, and Hydroxyurea. You put those letters together and tell people that you are giving them E-P-O-H. I put them together and explain to them that they are receiving H-O-P-E. I emphasize that they have a chance.”

You do have a chance. You have a chance at life. You have a chance at success. You have a chance at wholeness. You have a chance at meaningful relationships and, though you may not believe it, at happiness.

Are you a prisoner of circumstances … stuck and helpless, or a practitioner of hope? It can be a difference between life and death.

A Very Human Thing to Do

2010-06-01T14:35:00.000-06:00

Someone made the statement: "To err is dysfunctional, to forgive co-dependent." Sometimes I think I operate that way – afraid to err and slow to forgive.

Of course, we’ve all heard Alexander Pope’s famous assertion that to err is human, to forgive, divine. But I don’t agree. I think that to forgive is one of the most human things we can do.

A number of years ago, Hildegard Goss-Mayr of the "International Fellowship of Reconciliation" told this true story. In the midst of tragic fighting in Lebanon in the 1970s, a Christian seminary student was walking from one village to the next when he was ambushed by an armed Druze guerrilla fighter. The Druze ordered his captive down a mountain trail where he was to be shot.

But an amazing thing happened. The seminarian, who had received military training, was able to surprise his captor and disarm him. Now, the table was turned, and it was the Druze who was ordered down the trail.

As they walked, however, the student of theology began to reflect on what was happening. Recalling the words of his scripture, "Love your enemies,” “do good to those who hate you,” “turn the other cheek," he found he could go no farther. He threw the gun into the bushes, told the Druze he was free to go and turned back up the hill.

Minutes later, he heard footsteps running behind him as he walked. "Is this the end after all?" he wondered. Perhaps the young man had retrieved his weapon and meant to finish him off. But he continued on, never glancing back, until his enemy reached him, only to grab him in an embrace and pour out thanks for sparing his life.

That was a very human thing he did – foregoing the impulse to strike back. It took a strong spirit. Yet every time we decide not to get back at somebody who hurts us, we exercise one of our greatest powers – the power to choose a better way.

Somebody else put it better than I can: “Life is too short for drama and petty things, so, kiss slowly, laugh insanely, love truly and forgive quickly.” It’s one of the most powerful and human things to do.

Just in Time

2010-05-14T08:46:00.000-06:00

Novelist Vicki Baum once said, "You don't get ulcers from what you eat. You get them from what's eating you." And what's eating us much of the time is worry. It eats us from the inside out.

I wish I could always be like former baseball player Mickey Rivers. He philosophized, "Ain't no sense worrying about things you got control over, because if you got control over them, ain't no sense worrying. And there ain't no sense worrying about things you got no control over either, because if you got no control them, ain't no sense worrying."

Maybe that makes sense, I’m just not sure. But even if it does, I’ll likely wind up worried anyway. Which is why I like this story related by inspirational Dutch author and holocaust survivor Corrie ten Boom.

Corrie learned a powerful lesson as a little girl. Having encountered the lifeless body of a baby, she realized that people she loved would someday die, too. She thought about the fact that her father and mother and sister Betsie could quite possibly pass on before she does. The thought frightened and worried her.

One night her father came in to tuck her into bed. Corrie burst into tears and sobbed, “I need you. You can’t die. You can’t!”

Her father sat on the edge of the narrow bed and spoke tenderly to his daughter. “Corrie,” he said gently, “when you and I go to Amsterdam, when do I give you your ticket?”

She sniffed a few times and considered the question. “Why, just before I get on the train,” she answered.

“Exactly,” he continued. Then he gave her assurance that was to last a lifetime. “When the time comes that some of us have to die, you will look into your heart and find the strength you need – just in time.”

Some years later Corrie and her family, arrested for sheltering Jews and members of the Dutch resistance, were sent to Nazi concentration camps. She, indeed, experienced the deaths of her parents and sister, as well as numerous friends. She endured hardships that she could never have imagined as a young child. But the words of her father stayed with her and proved to be true. “You will look into your heart and find the strength you need – just in time.” She always did. Regardless of the suffering or hardship she encountered, when she looked inside her heart she found the strength she needed – just in time.

If you worry and fret, or if you feel anxious about your future, you may find Corrie’s experience helpful. And if that thing you dread should ever arrive, then you need only look inside your heart. The strength you need can be found there – just in time.

One Simple Question

2010-05-09T07:47:00.000-06:00

I once read that an ordinance in one of America’s major cities forbids "walking about aimlessly, with no apparent purpose, lingering, hanging around, lagging behind, idly spending time, delaying, sauntering and moving slowly about."

I can’t tell you how disturbed I felt. Some of my best days are spent like that.

But then, I don’t want my whole life to be basically described as having "no apparent purpose...lagging behind...idly spending time...delaying" and generally moving about aimlessly. On the other hand, neither do I want to take myself too seriously. An occasional day spent doing next to nothing sounds perfectly fine.

My problem is that I am usually busy. I schedule tightly and work long hours. I plan my time and make lists.

But it would be a mistake to believe that, just because I am doing many things, I am necessarily doing the right things. Or, perhaps, the BEST things. At least if I’m busy, I want to stay busy at things that matter.

News commentator Dan Rather asked himself a vital question several times a day. Largely because of this one question, he became one of America's leading journalists. Rather wrote the question on three slips of paper. He kept one in his billfold, one in his pocket, and one on his desk. The all-important question he constantly asked himself was "Is what you are doing now helping the broadcast?"

If the answer was yes, then he continued with his work, project or idea. If the answer was no, then he stopped what he was doing and put his efforts into something else. He discovered early on that if he did not focus his time, he would end up in a job where he was under-utilized and dissatisfied.

What if you were to ask yourself a focusing question several times a day? Your question might relate to work, or perhaps to another area of your life that is important to you – family, relationships, personal development, spirituality….

You might ask yourself if what you’re doing now is helping you succeed. Or if what you’re doing now is helping you to be a better parent or a better person. You decide. The point is this: one simple question can focus and transform your life.

Try writing the question you choose on small slips of paper or on the back of a business card. Carry it with you. Post it on your desk. You might even affix it to a conspicuous spot inside your car.

Then read it several times a day. That one question will help you choose activities that contribute toward your best self. And if you are busy, at least you will be busy doing the right things – things that matter.

Then, if you decide to spend an occasional day walking about aimlessly, with no apparent purpose, lingering, hanging around, lagging behind, idly spending time, delaying, sauntering and moving slowly about, why not? The down time will probably do you good.

Blowing Out the Guilt

2010-04-30T07:44:00.000-06:00

I read of a New Jersey artist who capitalized on people’s need to let go of the past by selling them “guilt kits.” Each kit contained ten disposable brown paper bags and a set of instructions which said, “Place bag securely over your mouth, take a deep breath and blow the guilt out. Dispose of bag immediately.” Amazingly, about 2,500 kits sold at $2.50 each. But perhaps not so amazing when you think of the guilt many of us carry around.

Of course, guilt serves its purpose. More than once I made a better decision so that I could look myself in the mirror without blushing. And the kits probably also serve a purpose – if nothing else, to remind us to get rid of those unnecessary and destructive feelings we seem to have so much trouble shaking.

But if blowing in a bag doesn’t do it for you, then you might try another man’s method. He hired a friend to go into therapy for him. He says he always hires other people to carry his baggage.

And if that doesn’t work, here are a few simple steps that that should get at the problem:

First, if you make a mistake, resolve to try never to repeat it. The whole function of guilt is to change behavior.

We underrate our mistakes as effective learning devises. When possible, welcome your mistake, learn from it and decide to do things differently next time.

Second, seek forgiveness from any others who were affected. If possible, make amends.

In Ernest Hemingway’s short story "The Capitol of the World,” a Spanish father decides to reconcile with his son who has run away. Now remorseful, the father takes out a newspaper ad in El Liberal: "Paco, meet me at Hotel Montana noon Tuesday. All is forgiven.” When the father goes to the square he is surprised to find eight hundred young men named Paco waiting for their fathers. We can’t underestimate the need for reconciliation and wholeness.

Finally, forgive yourself. No purpose is served in continuing to whip yourself over past events you can do nothing about. And how will you truly learn to love when there is one person in your life you refuse to completely forgive?

If you follow these steps, you can rid yourself of unnecessary guilt. You will find that you are happier and healthier – and you can save all those brown paper bags for lunch.

A Better Way to Live

2010-04-12T10:58:00.000-06:00

Did you know...?

That Joan of Arc was only seventeen when she was riding at the head of the army that liberated France from the English?

That church reformer John Calvin was twenty-six when he published his "Institutes"?

That poet John Keats died when he was twenty-six?

That Shelley was thirty when he was drowned, but not before he left English literature his classic "Odes"?

That Sir Isaac Newton had largely discovered the working of the law of gravitation when he was twenty-three?

That Henry Clay, the "great compromiser," was sent to the United States Senate at twenty-nine and was Speaker of the House of Representatives at thirty-four?

That Raphael painted his most important pictures between twenty-five and thirty?

That Mozart only lived to be thirty-five years old?

Maybe I’m just a late bloomer.

When I was a young man I wanted to make things happen. After a few years I realized I would have to content myself with watching most things happen.

Unfortunately, these days I usually have no idea what is happening.

Of course, most of us will never paint a masterpiece, write a classic or discover an important scientific principle. But why should we? We’re each cut from a unique pattern.

Dick Van Dyke once told the story of a woman taking her nephew to her Catholic church. She whispered to him as they approached the pew: "Can you genuflect?"

"No," he said, "but I can somersault!"

I wonder if he showed her…right then and there. I can almost see him rolling down the aisle in a joyous celebration of the thing he CAN do, with no regard for genuflecting… the thing he cannot do.

Some people waste lives obsessing on that thing they cannot do, wishing they were more competent. And some measure the value of their abilities against those of others, wishing they could contribute in a bigger and better way.

You and I may never be a Mozart, a Raphael or a John Keats. But there are things you CAN do to bring beauty or joy or happiness to your world. Find them. Do them. Celebrate them. Rejoice in them.

I can hardly think of a more significant way to live.

Love and Time

2010-04-05T15:32:00.000-06:00

Writer Gary Jennings said this: “Love and time, those are the only two things in all the world and all of life, that cannot be bought, but only spent.”

I love that. And HOW I spend my love and time is what it is all about.

My work and interests require me to spend probably an inordinate amount of time in front of my computer. At least according to my wife Bev.

She and I were talking one day about death and funerals and what to do with each other’s remains. I asked. “What will you do with my body? Burial? Cremation?”

She answered, “I think I’ll just have you stuffed and propped up in your chair by the computer. That way when I walk through the room I won’t even notice that you’re gone.”

I got the point – too much computer time. And how I spend my time and my love is all important.

The question I ask myself is this: “Do I generously and freely give love and time away – and especially to those closest to me?”

Charles Francis Adams was the United States ambassador to Great Britain during the Lincoln administration. He had the habit of keeping a daily diary. He also taught his son Brooks the value of journaling his activities in a diary.

One memorable day, eight-year-old Brooks recorded, “Went fishing with my father, the most glorious day of my life.” It must have been a glorious day, for the next forty years Brooks repeatedly mentioned it in his diary. It became a life-long memory.

His father also wrote about the fishing trip. His own diary on that pivotal day for his son reads, “Went fishing with my son; a day wasted.”

He didn’t get it. That one single day he generously and freely gave love and time away to Brooks may have been the one of the most important days of his son’s life. Did he feel that, as a United States ambassador, his time was too valuable to be “wasted” with his children? History seems to show that a fishing trip with his son paid huge dividends in Brooks’ life.

I only hope I will spend love and time so well.

Turn ... and Come Round Right

2010-03-23T10:52:00.000-06:00

Not long ago a commercial airliner, whose pilot was new to New York,
landed at JFK Airport. He steered the jet onto a taxiway and
stopped. Then slowly he began turning. First he nosed the aircraft
to the right. Then to the left. Then he turned the plane completely
around.

Finally, over the public-address system, a confused voice asked,
"Does anyone know where Gate 25 is?" Do you think that if he just
turned around enough times he would come out right?

Deciding to turn, though, is something we often have to do if we are
to live fully and live well. For each of us knows what it is to head
the wrong direction in life; and we also know how relieved we feel
to turn around again.

Do you remember the old Shaker hymn, written by Joseph Brackett, Jr. over 150 years ago?

'Tis the gift to be simple,
'tis the gift to be free,
'tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
It will be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed.
To turn, turn will be our delight,
'Til by turning, turning we come round right.

It's amazing how many times I turn in a day. I turn up to things I
want to attend and turn down others. I turn in at the end of the day
and turn over all night long. And when things are not right, I can
always turn them around.

Actually, turning is one of the most hopeful words I know.

When I'm not right, I can turn in a new direction. By turning, I do
something about the course I've taken. I may not be able to change
what I've already done; and I may not be able to fully escape those
unpleasant consequences of past choices. But I need not continue in
the same, destructive path. I can turn. I can find my way again.

Turning around is allowed in this life. In fact, it's necessary.
Especially after mistakes and failures. And that's like hope for me.
Like the song says, "'Tis the gift to come down where you ought to
be." But when we don't find ourselves where we ought to be, "by
turning, turning we come round right."

Leafage and Rootage

2010-03-16T11:41:00.000-06:00

American President Woodrow Wilson once pointed out that “a man’s rootage is more important than his leafage.” What others see are the leaves, the outside. What they can’t see are the roots, the values and principles that ground a person. A happy and fulfilled life grows from a good system of roots.

No one believed in the solid “rootage” of President Jimmy Carter more than his own mother “Miss Lillian,” as she was fondly called. She was aware of her son’s reputation for honesty, which had become a topic of curiosity among many politicians and even reporters. During a 1986 speech at the University of Tennessee, Jody Powell told a story about a television reporter who grilled Miss Lillian on this topic.

“Is it true,” asked the reporter, “that your son doesn’t lie? Can you tell me he has never told a lie?”

“Well, I reckon he might have told a little white lie now and then,” replied Miss Lillian.

The reporter spotted the opening. “I thought you said he didn’t lie!” she exclaimed. “Are you telling me that white lies aren’t as bad as black lies? Just what do you mean by a white lie?”

“Well,” drawled Miss Lillian, “do you remember when you came in this morning and I told you how nice you looked and how glad I was to see you...?”

Those people who care about strong and principled inner lives leave an important mark on the world. They actually live from the inside out. Their inner convictions guide their actions. Their inner principles govern their lives. It’s like roots which are sunk deep into lasting values and sustain the tree through whatever hard times may come along.

What does it mean to have good roots? I think it means to be strong enough and healthy enough to do whatever you truly want to do. It means to be strong enough, at least most of the time, to give your best to the world.

I would like to have roots that grow deep and strong. I would like a system of roots that could give me:
• enough strength to forgive those who hurt me;
• enough confidence to overcome any amount of fear;
• enough courage to accept whatever obstacles life throws my way;
• enough compassion to love even the unlovable;
• enough faith that nothing can shatter my peace of mind.

If I grow good roots, I don’t need to worry about the leafage.

Listening to Your Heart

2010-03-08T11:24:00.000-07:00

I sometimes wish I had a road map for living. If only someone would occasionally show me a way to go, a direction to take, it seems things could be easier. Have you ever thought like that?

But it doesn't take me long to remember that others probably feel as confused as I do.

Passengers on a regular flight from Detroit to Tri-City Airport (which is situated between the Michigan cities of Saginaw, Bay City and Midland), must have felt a little more than confused during a flight attendant's greeting. Obviously not familiar with the area, she welcomed everyone warmly and stated that the destination would be Midland. A few concerned passengers alerted her to the mistake, so she quickly corrected herself by saying they were headed to Tri-City and Bay City.

Chuckles rippled along the aisle as she bravely tried again. This time she informed passengers that their destination was Saginaw. Now laughter broke out.

At that point, an authoritative voice came over the intercom and rescued her. "I'm your pilot, folks," he said, "and don't worry -- I know where we're going."

It's nice when someone knows the way. But does anyone know the way YOU should be going? The way you should go in your life?

The truth is -- we really can't depend on others for the most important answers about living our lives. People can help, but nobody can truly decide what is best for us; nobody else can steer us along that individual path that we should take.

But the good news is this: we will eventually find the way ourselves. And I believe we'll find it best by listening. Listening to our hearts; listening to an inner voice.

I've learned that if I listen well, I will discover that the solution I need is usually there, hiding within. It may be irritatingly well hidden, but it is there nevertheless.

Perhaps you feel a bit lost. Most of us do at times. And if so, don't worry. This may be a perfect time to listen. Listen to that quiet voice within. And while you listen, remember this -- your inner pilot knows where you're going.

-- Steve Goodier

The Best Revenge

2010-02-25T08:42:00.000-07:00

One person jokingly says she never goes to bed angry. Instead, she stays awake and plots her revenge.

As one story goes, a group of occupational soldiers hired a local boy to run errands for them. The soldiers liked to relieve stress by playing practical jokes on the young boy. They would hide his belongings, put gum in his shoes, or send him on silly errands.

The boy handled the joking quite well. He never seemed upset by it. After a while, the soldiers decided that they had bothered the child enough. They approached him to apologize and to tell him that they would no longer play any jokes on him.

The boy replied in stilted English, “You stop making joke on me, I stop spitting in your soup.”

He had his revenge. But for most of us, revenge turns out to be more bitter than sweet. Unsatisfying at best. It “has no more quenching effect on emotions than salt water has on thirst,” one writer says. And it’s true. The desire to inflict hurt and pain remains long after one has given in to the urge to get even. Bitter emotions are more often quenched by love and understanding than by fighting back.

Over 400 years ago, the English poet George Herbert said, “Living well is the best revenge.” Good advice – especially when tempted to get even.

Who's Your Hero?

2010-02-15T14:01:00.000-07:00

One of those strange newspaper stories told of a 19-year-old woman who had been charged in Los Angeles with two counts of trespassing - after sneaking into the home of actor Brad Pitt and trying on his clothes. I suppose we have different ways of adoring our heroes....

But who are our real heroes? I was given a little quiz recently. See how well you do:

Name the five wealthiest people in the world.
Name five Olympic gold medalists.
Name the last five winners of your national beauty contest.
Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize.
Name the last half-dozen Academy Award winners for best actor and actress.
Name the last decade’s national or world champions in your favorite sport.

These people, of course, are the best in their fields. But fame is fleeting and outstanding performance is too soon forgotten.

Now try another quiz:

List a few teachers who aided your journey through school.
Name three friends who have helped you through a difficult time.
Name five people who have taught you something worthwhile.
Think of a few people who have made you feel appreciated and special.
Think of five people you enjoy spending time with.
Name half a dozen heroes whose stories have inspired you.

If you found the second quiz easier, it may be because those people who make a difference in our lives are not the ones with the best degrees or pedigrees, nor are they the most honored or acclaimed. The people who make a difference are those who care. They may never have seen a battle; never scored a winning goal; never been featured in a magazine. But they have been busy helping you to be the best you can be.

Let’s remember and thank our real heroes. And don’t be surprised if someone thanks you.

A Conspiracy of Kindness

2010-01-31T10:46:00.000-07:00

Kevin is a boy who might be described as "slow." He didn't learn his ABCs as fast as other kids. He couldn’t compete in schoolyard races. But Kevin had a way with people. His bright smile and big heart won him plenty of friends.

My friend Randy, the pastor at Kevin’s church, decided they needed a basketball team for boys. Kevin signed on and soon basketball became a center of his life. He practiced hard. While the other boys worked at dribbling the basketball and shooting lay-ups, skills Kevin would never master, he simply shot baskets. Or more correctly, he threw the ball AT the basket. He had a special spot near the free throw line. He threw and threw, and it occasionally went in. On the rare times that he succeeded, Kevin raised his arms and shouted, "Look at me, Coach! Look at me!" Randy looked at him. And smiled.

The day before their first game, Coach Randy gave each player a bright red jersey. Kevin was number 12. He scrambled himself into the sleeves and wore that jersey almost every day. Everywhere. One Sunday morning the church worship service was interrupted by Kevin's excited voice. "Look, Coach!" He lifted his gray wool sweater to reveal the red jersey underneath with number 12 on the front. Nobody there minded the interruption; the congregation knew Kevin and loved him.

I'd like to be able to tell you that the team did well. But the truth is…they never won a game that season -- except for the night it snowed and the opposing team never showed up.

At the end of the season, the boys played in the church league's tournament. As the last-place team, they drew the unfortunate spot of playing against the best team -- boys who had never lost a game all year.

Game day arrived. Both teams played their best, but the game went as expected. Near the end of the last quarter, Kevin's team stood nearly 30 points behind. It was then that one of the boys called timeout. "Coach Randy," he said, "this is our last game and Kevin has never made a basket. I think we should let him make a basket."

The team agreed. Kevin was instructed to stand at his special place near the free throw line and wait. He was told that when he was given the ball, he should shoot.

Kevin was ecstatic. He ran to the floor and waited. When the ball was passed to him he shot -- and missed. Number 17 from the other team snatched the rebound, dribbled down the court for an easy basket. But a moment later Kevin got the ball again. He shot -- and missed again. Number 17 repeated his performance scoring two more points. Kevin shot a third and fourth time with the same result.

But slowly the other team seemed to figure out what was going on and the next time they snatched the rebound, a boy threw it to Kevin! He shot...and missed. Now every rebound came to him and he threw and threw toward the basket. Time was running down and Kevin still had not scored.

BOTH teams circled the boy by this time and all of the players were shouting, "Kevin! Kevin!" The crowd took up the chant. Soon everyone in the gym was shouting Kevin’s name.

Coach Randy was sure that time must have run out; the game HAD to be over. He glanced at the official clock. It was stopped at 4.3 seconds. Even the timekeepers joined in the mania and stood by their table shouting with the crowd, "Kevin! Kevin!"

Kevin shot and shot. Everyone was screaming. He attempted again and again and again and…miraculously, one of his shots took a crazy bounce on the rim. Everyone held their breath.

The ball dropped in.

Chaos reigned. Nobody remained seated. Everyone stood and cheered as if one boy had single-handedly won a world championship. Kevin's arms sprang up in the air and he shouted, "I won! I won!" He had scored. His team escorted him off the court, the clock ticked down and the game was over.

That day an undefeated team retained their perfect record. But everybody won. Everybody. Because everybody had participated in a crazy conspiracy of kindness that was so compelling, so powerful, the earth itself might have stopped for a moment to rejoice with one young boy.

How beautiful it is when we all conspire together in kindness. Everybody wins.

Early to Bed

2010-01-27T14:32:00.000-07:00

I know one man who says he likes work. It fascinates him. He says he can sit and watch it for hours.

He was probably the same guy who went to his supervisor to ask for a raise.

“I am already planning on giving you a raise,” she said.

“Oh, great!” he said. “When will it be effective?”

“As soon as you are!” shouted the boss. (Do you know that man?)

Someone said, "Find a job that you love, and you'll never work a day in your life."

Some people are fortunate enough to be able to find a job they love. But not everyone can follow their bliss into the marketplace. I’ve had jobs where my motto was closer to “Early to bed and early to rise, ‘till you make enough money to do otherwise.” I had to decide to at least try to like what I do, since I did not find myself doing what I liked.

There are benefits to learning to enjoy at least parts of what we do if we can’t do what we love. It stands to reason that the more pleasure we find in our work, the more effective and successful we will become. And usually we will make more money. But mainly, who wants to spend a life dreading to climb out of the bed every morning only to spend the rest of the day watching the clock tick off endless minutes and hours?

Can you concentrate more on the aspects of your work that you enjoy? Can you find ways to develop nurturing relationships in your workplace? Can you remember why you are working: to educate your children or to save for retirement? Can you see yourself less as chipping stones and more as building a temple…in other words, can you see the big picture of what you do all day? Are there ways you can serve others in your work environment? All of these techniques and others can help you to learn to find more enjoyment at work.

It was the mystic Kahil Gibran who put it this way: “Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love, but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and ask for alms of those who work with joy.”

If you can’t do what you love ALL of the time, can you learn to enjoy what you do MORE of the time?

Those You Touch . . . You Change

2010-01-17T13:18:00.000-07:00

Did you know that your money likely has traces of cocaine on it?

A study by Jack Demirgian of the Argonne National Laboratory revealed that a full 78% of the currency circulating in Miami and other major US cities carries trace amounts of cocaine. That’s probably true elsewhere, too.

They were only looking for cocaine, but I wonder what else might be found on the bills? Maybe fast-food products, such as frying grease, mustard or teriyaki sauce? Tea or coffee? And how about rouge or lipstick from purses and lint from pockets? Perhaps ink from a leaky pen? I’ve found more indistinguishable stains on some of my money than I care to think about.

What's more, we’re told that if they look closely enough, they can even learn something about where your money has been. To the store. To the beach. Even hidden beneath a mattress.

Just about anything that comes into contact with money leaves a bit of itself behind. Then, when the bills rub up against each other in a wallet or billfold, they share contaminates. Everything the bills touch will be changed, however slightly.

So it is with us. Everything we touch is changed. I used to play English hand bells. “Don’t touch the bells with your bare hands,” we were told. “Wear gloves.” The oils from our hands changed the quality of the bells.

Everything we touch is changed. And everybody we touch is changed -- even if we're not infected with something contagious. I’m not only talking about physical touch, either. Often we touch their minds and spirits and hearts. Everybody we speak to, rub shoulders with or even smile at...is changed in some minute way. These changes can be helpful or hurtful, depending on our interaction. It is like leaving a piece of ourselves behind with everyone we meet, and taking a piece of them with us.

And even little changes can make a difference. NO ONE is insignificant in this regard.

Bette Reeves said, "If you think you are too small to be effective, you have never been in bed with a mosquito." You don’t need to be a mosquito to have an effect on people around you. The question is: what little part of yourself will you leave behind? How will you influence them? Will your encounter be thoughtful or hurried? Helpful or harmful? Intentional or accidental?

There is something awe-inspiring about the influence we have on one another. Whom will you touch today? What will you leave behind, and what will you take with you?

When Someone Grieves

2009-12-31T11:13:00.000-07:00

What do you say to someone who is grieving? ("Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?" probably tops the list of the kinds of conversation starters that should be avoided.) And actually, there are a lot of ways we can go wrong here -- saying something that isn't appreciated by one who hurts. Even when we are trying to comfort.

But chances are, we have been, or will be, put in the position of trying to comfort someone who is experiencing a painful loss. That is an important role we all play from time to time. So, what do you say to someone who is grieving?

I often remember a story told by Joseph Bayly when I struggle to say the “right thing” to someone who is hurting. Mr. Bayly lost three children to death over the course of several years. He wrote a book called VIEW FROM A HEARSE, in which he talks about his grief. He says this about comforting those who grieve:

“I was sitting, torn by grief. Someone came and talked to me of God’s dealings, of why it happened, of hope beyond the grave. He said things I knew were true. I was unmoved, except to wish he would go away. He finally did. Someone else came and sat beside me. He didn’t talk. He didn’t ask leading questions. He just sat with me for an hour or more, listened when I said something, answered briefly, prayed simply, left. I was moved. I was comforted. I hated to see him go.”

I have found Joseph Bayly’s experience to be excruciatingly typical. Both men wanted to help. Both men cared. But only one truly comforted. The difference was that one tried to make him feel better, while the other just let him feel. One tried to say the right things. The other listened. One told him it would be all right. The other shared his pain.

When put in the difficult position of comforting someone in emotional pain, sometimes what needs to be said can be said best with a soft touch or a listening ear. No words. And though at times the quieter approach has felt inadequate to me, I have come to realize that it can make a bigger difference than I may ever know.

And It Came to Pass

2009-12-21T11:00:00.000-07:00

As I stared out the rear window of the bus, I thought, 'What if I die? This may be my last night ever.'

At the last minute, we decided to take an all-night bus through the Peruvian Andes down to the coast. Now I was being driven over high mountain passes and on winding, too-narrow and (I was certain) unsafe roads. We live in the Rocky Mountains of western United States. But still I was not prepared for roads too narrow for on-coming traffic to pass by. Every time another vehicle hurled toward us, one of us was forced to pull over and let the other by. Nor was I ready for the supersonic speeds at which our bus rollicked around hairpin curves, or an all-night white-knuckle ride on a too-often unpaved shoulder-less mountain road carved out of the side of sheer vertical slopes lost in clouds. And I wasn't ready to die – at least not that particular night.

I thought that maybe I could sleep during the trip, but all the anxiety of what reminded me of an out of control amusement park ride kept me staring out into the night as if by sheer will power I could keep the bus upright. 'What if we crash?' I thought, and began to count all the possible ways this bus would slide off the mountainside. I worried about the driver, who was apparently working a 12-hour shift. What if he fell asleep? My mind was just too filled with "what ifs..." to find rest. I needed an antidote to worry.

Then I remembered five comforting words: "And it came to pass..." Not coincidently, the phrase is found throughout the Bible. It's an intriguing phrase..."and it came to pass." I've never read, "And it came to stay." It's always, "And it came to pass..."

Whenever I have encountered problems over the years, they came to pass. My anxieties and worries also came to pass. In fact, I have forgotten most of the fears that once kept me awake over the years. I've learned that most of my toughest times and seemingly impossible situations are not forever. And sufficient strength can be found for those few that may linger a while.

Besides, what could I do? The bus would either make it or not. Like New York Yankees outfielder Mickey Rivers once said, "Ain't no sense in worrying about things you got control over, 'cause if you got control over them, ain't no sense worrying. And there ain't no sense worrying about things you got no control over, 'cause if you got no control over them, ain't no sense worrying about them."

So I rested in the peace that, like most of what I worry about, this will come to pass. And before long, the sun rose on a beautiful Peruvian landscape. It was true, my worries came to pass.

Can the same be said about problems that worry you?

Keep on Swinging

2009-12-10T11:37:00.000-07:00

They say that opportunity only knocks once. But temptation seems to pound on my door forever. Even opening up and letting it in doesn’t seem to make it go away. More temptations come along and the beating goes on.

Those temptations that cause me the most problems are those that pull me away from being my best self. So I can relate to the Swiss woman who was served dinner on a domestic American flight. She opened up her dessert – a delicious looking piece of chocolate cake – and immediately sprinkled a generous layer of salt and pepper over it. A shocked flight attendant exclaimed, “Oh! It’s not necessary to do that!”

“But it is,” the woman replied, smiling. “It keeps me from eating it.”

She found a way to drive temptation away from her doorstep, at least for a while.

The most persistent temptations in my life are distractions that keep me from doing what is in my best interest.

I forgo some much-needed exercise because I “just don’t feel like it” today. Have you ever felt like that?

You may want to quit that reading group, that difficult class or those music lessons. It’s easy to become distracted and get discouraged.

Or maybe we say we just “can’t find the time” to spend with those closest to us, such as family. We may want to do these things; it’s just that sometimes we need a nudge.

Something baseball great Hank Aaron once said can help out here. “My motto was to keep swinging,” he said. “Whether I was in a slump or feeling badly or having trouble off the field, the only thing to do was to keep swinging.”

Sometimes we just need to keep swinging. And if we tell ourselves that all we need to do today is to take one more swing, that may be enough. We can always take one more swing. And who knows…today we might hit a home run.

Steel and Velvet

2009-12-01T12:13:00.000-07:00

An unusual tribute was paid to Abraham Lincoln by Carl Sandburg. The poet wrote, "Not often in the story of mankind does a man arrive on earth who is both steel and velvet, who is as hard as rock and soft as drifting fog, who holds in his heart and mind the paradox of terrible storm and peace unspeakable and perfect."

Lincoln demonstrated then and now how a person can possess both a will of iron and a heart of tenderness. Nothing deterred the president during the American Civil War from his "noble" cause, and few persons have ever endured more criticism and detractors than Lincoln. Yet he was no more a man of steel than one of velvet.

When General Robert E. Lee surrendered his army, contrary to the advice of some of his generals, Lincoln sent an unexpected message to the enemy commander. "Tell your men they may keep their horses; they'll need them for plowing," said the president. Then this: "Tell your men they may keep their rifles; they'll need them for hunting." When Lee read those words he wept.

For each of us there is a time for toughness and a time for tenderness. A time for resolve and a time for compassion. An iron will is not the same as an iron spirit. Another courageous American, Martin Luther King, Jr. some hundred years later encouraged us to exhibit tough minds and soft hearts... not the other way around.

I know that mental toughness, particularly an iron resolve and determination, will often be needed if I am to get where I want to go. But I also know that a soft heart – compassion and love – will make the journey worth it.

Never Too Late

2009-11-28T10:29:00.000-07:00

Katharine Hepburn once said, "Life is hard. After all, it kills you." And it can kill you early if you don't figure out how to change. Let me explain.

The expression “turning over a new leaf” refers to turning pages of a book. Just as the plot of a novel changes from page to page, people, too, can change their lives. Indeed they have to if they are to live well.

I enjoy reading about ancient cultures. And it occurs to me that most of the old civilizations are gone. Some have left little behind except ruins and rubble. What happened? Where are the people, their music and ideas? Why are they nothing more today than a collection of stones visited by tourists and curious historians?

The answer, of course, is not the same the world over. But Arnold Toynbee, in his work The Study of History (1987), says that the great lesson of history is this: civilizations that changed when confronted with challenges thrived. Those that did not change died. In other words, when life got hard, it killed off those who didn't make needed changes. The key to survival is often about “change.”

And what about us? What about you and me? It’s good to accept ourselves as we are, but when an unhealthy attitude or a destructive behavior gets in the way, when we wish we could change something about ourselves, we had better change. People who embrace change thrive; those who resist it die.

If you have been waiting for a sign to make that needed change, this may be it. I am convinced that it is never too late to be the person you might have been. It's never too late to be happy. It's never too late to do something different or to do something better. It's never too late to change a habit. It's never too late to live.

Begin making that necessary change today. Then tomorrow, and every tomorrow thereafter, can truly be different.

The Gift

2009-11-21T10:08:00.000-07:00

A story about an old Bendix washing machine helped one man get through the valley of loss. *

His parents acquired the washer when John Claypool was a small boy. It happened during World War II. His family owned no washing machine and, since gasoline was rationed, they could ill afford trips to the laundry several miles away. Keeping clothes clean became a problem for young John's household.

A family friend was drafted into the service, and his wife prepared to go with him. John's family offered to store their furniture while they were away. To the family's surprise, the friends suggested they use their Bendix while they were gone. "It would be better for it to be running," they said, "than sitting up rusting." So this is how they acquired the washer.

Young John helped with the washing, and across the years he developed an affection for the old, green Bendix. But eventually the war ended. Their friends returned. In the meantime he had forgotten how the machine came to be in their basement in the first place. When the friends came to take it away, John grew terribly upset -- and let his feelings be known.

His wise mother sat him down and said, "Wait a minute, Son. You must remember, that machine never belonged to us in the first place. That we ever got to use it at all was a gift. So, instead of being mad at it being taken away, let's use this occasion to be grateful that we had it at all."

The lesson proved invaluable. Years later, John watched his eight-year-old daughter die a slow and painful death of leukemia. Though he struggled for months with her death, John could not really begin healing from the loss until he remembered the old Bendix.

"I am here to testify," he said, "that this is the only way down the mountain of loss...when I remember that Laura Lou was a gift, pure and simple, something I neither earned nor deserved nor had a right to. And when I remember that the appropriate response to a gift, even when it is taken away, is gratitude, then I am better able to try and thank God that I was ever given her in the
first place."

His daughter was given to him to love and nurture. She never belonged to him, but he had the awesome privilege of sharing her life for a while. When he realized that simple fact, everything changed. He could now begin healing from the tragedy of her loss by focusing instead on the wonder of her life. He started to see Laura Lou as a marvelous gift that he was fortunate enough to enjoy for a time. He felt grateful. He found strength and healing. He finally knew he could get through the valley of loss.

We all experience loss -- loss of people, loss of jobs, loss of relationships, loss of independence, loss of esteem, loss of things. What if you view that which is lost as a gift you were given for a time? Perhaps that simple choice of trying to reframe your loss will change sad memories into thankful ones. And perhaps it will get you unstuck and back on the road to healing and wholeness.

* Story from TRACKS OF A FELLOW STRUGGLER, by John Claypool (Insight Press Inc., 1995).

The Greatest Gift of All

2009-11-14T10:01:00.000-07:00

A little boy and girl were singing their favorite carol in church the Sunday before Christmas. The boy concluded "Silent Night" with the words, "Sleep in heavenly beans."

"No," his sister corrected, "not beans. Peas."

The story reminds me of the wonderful and hectic holiday season many of us are approaching soon.

Dave Garroway was, for many years, the host of the TODAY show on NBC television. Someone once asked him about his understanding of Christmas. He replied: "I've noticed that when people are asked what they want for Christmas, nine times out of ten, they answer with something material. That used to be amusing to me, but it's not amusing to me any longer. I happen to be one of those people who can afford anything he wants, but I find what I really want, I can't buy at all. I want peace of mind, peace of soul; the kind of peace you have when you don't really want anything."

What do YOU want for Christmas? Or if you don’t celebrate Christmas, what do you want for your life. For your world?

For me, what I want cannot be bought or gift wrapped. What I want most can best be summed up in words like “faith” and “hope” and “love.”

For myself, I want faith. Faith enough to see light in even the bleakest of situations. Faith enough to believe that goodness will prevail in the end.

For my loved ones I want hope. Abundant hope. Hope in tomorrow. A hope that helps them believe that better times lay ahead so they can take that next step.

For my world I want love. And I believe that the solutions to most of our biggest problems will only be found when we decide that we are indeed one family. The problems of war, health care, crime in city streets, immigration and unemployment take on a different hue when I am talking about my brothers and sisters whom I love dearly.

Do you also want things you can’t buy? What if we all decided to go after those things this year that truly matter? That could be the greatest gift of all.

Letting Your Soul Catch Up

2009-11-05T10:26:00.000-07:00

Did you know that practicing some form of relaxation is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself? Taking time each day to quiet your mind and breathe deeply, can make a big difference in how you feel throughout your day and into the night. And dedicating a day every week for mental and spiritual renewal is equally important.

We’re told that the word “relax” has its origin in the Latin word “relaxare,” which means “to loosen.” When we relax, we are in effect loosening tension, releasing tightly held energy and letting go. From the state of relaxation we can experience calm peacefulness.

Another great word is the Hebrew word "Shabbat" which, of course, is a day of rest. But it quite literally means to "quit; stop; take a break." Whatever you are doing, stop it. Whatever you are saying, be quiet. Sit down and take a look around. Don't do anything. Don't say anything. Fold your hands. Take a deep breath... .

Extended periods of rest are a biological necessity. The human body is like an old-fashioned wind-up clock. If it is not rewound by rest, ultimately it will run itself down.

A group of Americans made a trip with Brazilian natives down the Amazon River. The first day they rushed. The second day they rushed. The next day they rushed. One day, anxious to continue the trek, they were surprised to find the natives seated together in a circle.

When asked the reason for the delay, a guide answered, “They are waiting. They cannot move further until their souls have caught up with their bodies.”

Do you owe yourself time to let your soul catch up with your body?

Health Insurance

2009-10-30T08:45:00.000-06:00

Have you noticed how health insurance is like a hospital gown: every time you turn around, you find something that isn’t covered? But health researchers are discovering what many people have known all along -- that getting healthy is about more than medicine and treatment. It also involves a healthy outlook on life.

Various studies have validated the mind/ body connection. Cancer is often diagnosed within months of the death of one’s spouse. People who are cynical or angry have been shown to be more prone to heart attacks than those with a more positive outlook. And former Saturday Evening Post editor Norman Cousins has demonstrated for years how humor, laughter and hope can aid the healing process.

Not only is a healthy mental outlook necessary, but a healthy spiritual outlook seems to be equally important. Noted psychologist Carl Jung (1865-1961) made a telling observation about the connection between one’s mental health and spiritual outlook. “During the past 30 years, people from all civilized countries of the earth have consulted me,” he said. “Among all my patients in the second half of life -- that is to say, over 35 -- there has not been one whose problem in the last resort was not that of finding a (spiritual) outlook on life. It is safe to say that every one of them fell ill because he had lost that which living religions of every age have given to their followers….”

A healthy person is not one with a certain lifestyle, a certain income or certain favorable circumstances. A healthy person is usually one with certain attitudes. Positive mental attitudes and fruitful spiritual attitudes are part of it. One might say that a robust spiritual outlook is good health insurance.

Principles to Live By

2009-10-16T12:13:00.000-06:00

Groucho Marx quipped, "Those are my principles, and if you don't like them... well, I have others." Though he is joking, I wonder if he is actually hitting close to home. I need to regularly check in with myself and ask questions like, “Is the thing I’m doing now guided by sound principles?

Principled people are the heart and soul of a society. But who teaches our young people about character? Who teaches them how important it is to be honest and to do what is right?

Even ETHICS classes might not touch on matters of character. They discuss the medical ethics of cloning, stem cell research and genetic engineering. They consider euthanasia, abortion and capital punishment. And they even look at the ethics of governments and multi-national corporations.

But one college professor recently made a disturbing discovery: she assumed her students shared her principles of honesty, honor, integrity, and the like. She taught ethics, but assumed that her students shared her personal ethical standards.

Then one day she dropped an armful of final exams on her desk in disgust and complained that over 50% of her students CHEATED on their social justice exam. (Do you think they caught the irony here?) They'd spent months learning about ethical issues most societies face, but they never discussed personal morality. They could talk convincingly about good and bad behaviors of corporations, governments and societies, but they cheated on their exams. They just didn't get it: cheating is wrong. And can we expect societies, governments and businesses to do better than the people who run them and live in them?

Principled people are the heart and soul of our lives together. Church leader John Wesley simplifies it for us. In regards to what is right and wrong, he says simply this:

"Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can."

I think those are principles I want to live by.