Are You Ready for Act Two?

The date is June 24, 1859. Suddenly, there he is, atop a hill overlooking the plain of Solferino. The troops of Napoleon III (Louis Napoleon) prepare for battle with the Austrians below, and Henri Dunant has a box-seat view from his place on the hill. Trumpets blare, muskets crack and cannons boom. The two armies crash into each other, as Henri looks on, transfixed. He sees the dust rising. He hears the screams of the injured. He watches bleeding, maimed men take their last breaths as he stares in horror at the scene below. Henri doesn’t mean to be there. He is only on a business trip – to speak to Louis Napoleon about a financial transaction between the Swiss and the French. But he arrived late and now finds himself in a position to witness first-hand the atrocities of war. What Henri sees from his hill, however, pales in comparison with what he is soon to witness. Entering a small town shortly after the fierce encounter, Henri now observes the battle’s refugees. Every building is filled with the mangled, the injured, the dead. Henri, aching with pity, decides to stay in the village three more days to comfort the young soldiers. He realizes that his life will never be the same again. Driven by a powerful passion to abolish war, Henri Dunant will eventually lose his successful banking career and all his worldly possessions only to die as a virtual unknown in an obscure poorhouse. But we remember Henri today because the Swiss humanitarian and activist was the first recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize (in 1901). We also remember him because he took his country’s flag, a white cross on a red background, reversed the colors and founded what was to become a worldwide movement – the Red Cross. Act One of Henri Dunant’s life closed June 24, 1859. Act Two opened immediately and played the remainder of his 81 years. Many people’s lives can be divided into Act One and Act Two. The first performance ends when one decides to ultimately follow a new direction or passion. Henri’s old life, driven by financial success, prestige and power, no longer satisfied. A new Henri Dunant emerged in Act Two; one who was motivated by love, compassion and an overriding commitment to abolish the horrors of war. For many people like Henri, Act Two begins with a defining moment - it may be an experience, an important insight or perhaps even a rite of passage, such as a birthday. However it comes about, Act Two begins when the “old self” is laid to rest and a new self is born. At its best, this new self is one governed by different priorities and a renewed passion to live differently.  Act One might be closing in your life. If so, are you ready for Act Two? Something exciting may be about to begin.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: Flickr.com/Sarah Stierch

No Regrets

Not many people have heard of Bill Havens. But Bill became an unlikely hero of sorts – at least among those who knew him best. Here is his story:

At the 1924 Olympic Games in Paris, the sport of canoe racing was added to the list of international competitions. The favorite team in the four-man canoe race was the United States team. One member of that team was a young man by the name of Bill Havens.

As the time for the Olympics neared, it became clear that Bill’s wife would give birth to their first child about the time that the US team would be competing in the Paris games. In 1924 there were no jet airliners from Paris to the United States, only slow ocean-going ships. And so Bill found himself in a dilemma. Should he go to Paris and risk not being at his wife’s side when their baby was born? Or should he withdraw from the team and remain with his family?

Bill’s wife insisted that he go to Paris. After all, competing in the Olympics was the culmination of a lifelong dream. But Bill felt conflicted and, after much soul-searching, decided to withdraw from the competition and remain home where he could support his family. Just four days after the games (at which his brother Bud Havens and the rest of the U.S. canoe crew won three gold, one silver, and two bronze over six events), his son Frank came into the world.

People said, “What a shame.” But Bill said he had no regrets. For the rest of his life, he believed he had made the better decision. 

However, there is an interesting sequel to the story of Bill Havens.…

Frank, the child born to them that year, grew to love canoeing as much as his father did. And at 28-years-old, in 1952, Frank sent his father a cablegram. It came from Helsinki, Finland, where the Olympic Games were being held. The message read: “Dear Dad, thanks for waiting around for me to get born in 1924. I’m coming home with the gold medal you should have won. Your loving son, Frank.”

Frank had set the new world record and took home the gold in the solo 10,000-meter event. He came home with the medal his father had dreamed of winning. Like I said – no regrets.

Thomas Kinkade eloquently said, “When we learn to say a deep, passionate yes to the things that really matter... then peace begins to settle onto our lives like golden sunlight sifting to a forest floor.” Saying yes to the things that really matter might mean you say no to something else you want...but it’s a way to no regrets.

-- Steve Goodier 

Image: Flickr.com/Clare Griffiths

Knowing What Is Important

Do you know what is really important in your life? Here is somebody who might have found out the hard way.

It happened on the evening of April 14, 1912. The Titanic, the largest ship afloat, struck an iceberg in the treacherous waters of the Atlantic. Four hours later she sank to the bottom.

A place on one lifeboat was reserved for a certain woman. She was just stepping into the boat when she asked if she could run to the ship’s library to get something. She was allowed three minutes.

The woman ran through the corridors of the reeling vessel. Crossing the saloon she caught sight of jewelry strewn around the floor. Passengers had hurriedly cleaned out their safes and dropped valuables as they ran. What an opportunity. Wealth literally at her fingertips!

But she ignored the jewelry, made her way to the library, snatched a copy of the Bible and ran back to the waiting lifeboat.

Earlier that day it may have seemed incredible to the woman to choose a copy of the Bible over valuable jewelry. But in the face of death, prized valuables became relatively unimportant, and what may have seemed unimportant became suddenly valuable.

Unfortunately, it sometimes takes a catastrophe to shuffle our priorities into a sensible order. But what a catastrophe when we never do discover what is truly important.

Lee L. Jampolsky said, “At least three times every day take a moment and ask yourself what is really important. Have the wisdom and the courage to build your life around your answer.”

What if you were to take Jampolsky’s advice seriously? What if you regularly ask yourself what, in any given moment, was really important, then built your life around your answer? How different would your life be?

-- Steve Goodier

Image: Freeimage.com/eric bernard

What Is the Most Important Thing?

Have you heard about the man who was shopping with his baby boy? The obviously distraught and screaming child sat in the shopping cart.

As the man walked up and down the aisles, he calmly and patiently repeated, "Don't yell, Bobby. Calm down, Bobby. Don't get excited, Bobby."

A woman standing next to him turned and said, "You certainly are to be commended for trying so hard to soothe little Bobby."

The bewildered man looked up and said, "Lady, I'm Bobby!" 

It may seem like more than he can manage at times, but if he’s like most parents, he’s in it for the long haul. Being with his son is a priority. There are certainly easier and, at some times, more pleasurable ways to spend his time, but active parenting may be one of the most important things he can do.

Here is an experiment: Every once in awhile pause and ask yourself, “What is the most important thing I can be doing with my life at this particular time?” Then ask yourself, “Is anything keeping me from doing it?”

Robert Reich did just that. As Secretary of Labor in President Clinton’s administration, Robert B. Reich told of his decision to do something almost unheard of...to resign from his high profile and stressful job. He said, in an article published in the Op-Ed sections of the New York Times and Washington Post, "I have the best job I've ever had and probably ever will. No topping it." It was true. He seemed to love his job. But he added, "I also have the best family I'll ever have, and I can't get enough of them." And there was the problem. He could not give himself to his family and to this particular career at the same time.

So Reich concluded, "I had to choose. I told the boss I'll be leaving, and explained why." His boss, of course, was the president of the United States. And the country took notice. Some people were stunned. Here was a high government official who made a decision to step out of an important and powerful position in order to spend more time at home. But like an old Chinese proverb teaches, “He who chases two rabbits catches none.” 

He was wise enough to figure out what was the most important thing he could do with his life, insightful enough to see that something else was keeping him from doing it, and courageous enough to pick between the two. What if you asked yourself, “What is the most important thing I can be doing with my life at this particular time?” Then follow it up with the question, “Is anything keeping me from doing it?” What changes might you make?

Are you willing to find out?

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Wes Peck

If You Had It To Do Over

Image by Fred Fokkelman

One woman announced, “I intend to live forever! So far so good….” But the length of our lives is not the real issue; it’s the quality and meaning that matter. Not the years in a life, but the life in the years.

When asked what he wanted to be remembered for when his life was over, Leo Buscaglia replied, “I want to be remembered as somebody who lived life fully and with passion. I’ve been asked to write my epitaph and I have always thought that the perfect one for my tombstone would be, ‘Here lies Leo who died living.’”

I want to die living. And I want to be remembered as one who lived with purpose, joy and feeling. I want to spend my time learning what goes into a whole and happy life, then building that life the best I can.

Sociologist Tony Campolo told about a study in which fifty people over the age of 90 were asked to reflect upon their lives. “If you had it to do over again,” they were asked, “what would you do differently?” Though there were many answers, three responses dominated. Here they are:

1. “I would reflect more.” Do you ever feel that too much time is spent in “doing” and not enough spent thinking about what you are doing and why you are doing it? Reflection on your time and your priorities, your habits and behaviors, your attitudes and beliefs, in short, reflection on your life, will reveal to you what is truly important.
2. “I would risk more.” Have you missed important opportunities because you were afraid to take a chance? Taking more calculated risks may be the only way to make an important dream come alive.
3. “I would do more things that would live on after I died.” Are you immersed in something bigger and more enduring than your own existence? What will be your legacy?

Reflect more. Risk more. Leave a legacy. These are what our elders say they would do if ever given a second chance.

And, of course, the beauty is this: we don’t need a second chance at life to get it right. We can build a life around these values beginning today. And when it comes time for us to leave this existence, we can go with no regrets. 

-- Steve Goodier


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Making a Difference

Image courtesy of OBMonkey

The poet maryam kazmi wrote a piece she calls “Just One” that has gotten quite a bit of traction on the Internet. Here is her original:

One song can spark a moment 
One flower can wake a dream 
One tree can start a forest 
One bird can herald spring 

One smile begins friendship 
One handclasp lifts a soul 
One star can guide a ship at the sea
One word can frame a goal

One vote can change a nation 
One sunbeam lights a room 
One candle wipes all the darkness
One laugh will conquer gloom

One step must start each journey 
One word must start each prayer 
One hope will raise our spirits 
One touch can show you care 

One voice can speak with wisdom 
One heart can know what’s true 
One life can make a difference 
You see it’s up to you 

Do you ever think that one person really doesn’t matter? Tabitha Brown proved that one person can make a difference. 

It was 1846. Grandma Brown, as she was affectionately called, joined one of the wagon trains of adventurers hoping to start a life in America’s west. She was 62 years old, only five feet tall and weighed all of 108 pounds when well-fed. Because she was partly paralyzed, she leaned on a cane and walked with a limp.

Along the way, Grandma Brown showed great courage and stamina. As she crossed the American Great Plains and the Rocky Mountains, she nursed the wagon train’s sick. At one point she neared starvation herself after the caravan’s cattle were rustled off by Rogue River Indians.

Once they arrived in Oregon, she started an orphanage and one of the first schools in that part of the country. The so-called academy was established for all people, both rich and poor. The poor attended free while those who could afford paid a dollar a week for tuition and board.

As long as Grandma Brown was able, she worked to keep the institution alive. She attended to the students. She convinced would-be faculty of the need for teachers at the school. Many days found her hobbling about on her lame leg in the kitchen, kneading and baking the necessary daily bread.

Grandma Brown believed that one person can make a difference. Today, the institution she helped to build is still very much alive and well. It is known as Pacific University.

I particularly like how Sydney Smith once put it: "It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can only do little - do what you can.”

I think Grandma Brown got that.

-- Steve Goodier

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Putting First Things First

freeimages.com/Ja Ty

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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Love and Time

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.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/robin ducker

What Is Most Important

Author Erynn Miller said: "It takes a lot of understanding, time and trust to gain a close friendship with someone. As I approach a time in my life of complete uncertainty, my friends are my most precious asset."

I had a friend who felt that way. I sat next to Hal's "death-bed" and thought about the fact that I had known him for over twenty years. Hal knew he was dying and that these next few days would be his last. I held his hand.

We spent time reminiscing about his long and fruitful career as a church pastor. We talked about old friends. We chatted about his family. And I listened as he offered a piece of sage wisdom to someone he believed represented a “younger generation.”

Hal seemed to carefully consider what he was about to say next. Then he squeezed my hand, gazed intently into my eyes and whispered, just loud enough for me to hear, “Nothing is more important than relationships.”

I knew that this utterance somehow mattered a great deal to him. He seemed to consider a lifetime of experiences – personal, professional, spiritual and family – and this one simple observation surfaced above the rest: “Nothing is more important than relationships.”

“Don’t get too caught up in your career,” he said. “And don’t use people just to get what you want, then throw them away. No project, no program, no task - NOTHING - is more important than your friends and family." I never knew Hal that well, but I wondered if he were talking as much to himself as to me.

Remember,” he repeated, “that in the end, only your relationships will matter. Tend them well.”

Writer Og Mandino put it this way: “Beginning today,” he said, “treat everyone you meet as if he or she were going to be dead by midnight. Extend to them all the care, kindness and understanding you can muster, and do so with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again.”

At the end of a long life, my friend Hal would have agreed.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Anya Garrett

No Room in the Bank

Is your life full and busy? If you’re like me, maybe it is too busy. Sometimes I fill my life so full doing things I think I should do, I don’t have time for the things I want to do, even if some of those things are important. It seems that I have a thousand deadlines to meet, and too often I can’t find enough time to write, I skip my exercise routine, or I neglect uninterrupted time spent in solitude and meditation. But it helps to remember a story about a young girl and her bank.

The little girl’s father had just given her a silver dollar to put into her bank. She excitedly ran off to her room to “deposit” the coin. However, in a few minutes she returned and handed the silver coin back to her father.

“Daddy,” she said sadly, “here’s your dollar back. I can’t get it into my bank.”

“Why not?” her concerned father asked.

“It’s too full,” she said, obviously disappointed.

Her father accompanied her back to her room and, sure enough, her bank was too full to accept even one more coin. It was stuffed with pennies.

If your life ever like that bank? So full of errands, obligations and activities of no lasting value, that there simply is no room left for what is truly important – the silver dollars?

Author Grenville Kleiser once said, “To live at this time is an inestimable privilege, and a sacred obligation devolves upon you to make right use of your opportunities. Today is the day in which to attempt and achieve something worthwhile.”

Have you made room for a few large coins in your bank; for something you believe to be worthwhile? If not, you may have to take out a few pennies, but I suspect you will never know they are gone.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/OTA Photos

What Do You Want Most?

You've heard it said that the best things in life aren't things. This truth is illustrated well by Andrea Jaeger.

At age 14 Andrea won her first professional tennis tournament. At 15, she was the youngest player ever to be seeded at Wimbledon, a record she held for 10 years. She won again and again until, at 18 years old, she reached the finals of Wimbledon. But at age 19, a shoulder injury brought her career to an end.

Her body was injured, but not her spirit. Andrea Jaeger no longer serves up aces on the court, but she is serving society. She has dedicated her time and money to bringing hope and joy to children who are suffering from cancer or other life-threatening illnesses. She runs her own organization full time, year-round, unpaid.

"You get very spoiled on the pro tour," she says. "The courtesy cars, the five-star hotels, all the people clapping because you hit a good shot. It's easy to forget what's important in life."

She forgets a lot less lately.

Her life is an example of what can happen when one concentrates on “what’s important in life.” It has been said that the main cause for failure and unhappiness is trading what you want most for what you want at the moment. And if the best things in life are not things, then what do you want most? What Andrea wants most in life is to help other people. And I'll wager she is fulfilled and happy because of her dedication to a purpose bigger than herself.

What if you traded what you want at the moment for what you want most -- if you remember what is important in life and try to do that? The life you build would be no less than incredible.

-- Steve Goodier


image: freeimages.com/Uschi Hering

Succeeding at Life

It’s said there are three ways to get to the top of a tree: climb it, sit on an acorn or make friends with a big bird. But without too much imagination I can think of a couple of other ways – like one that involves a parachute and a poor landing.

However, the point is still well taken: getting to the top of that organization or reaching a new height requires effort. And it is taken for granted that reaching the top is exactly what everyone wants to do. After all, isn’t that what “success” is all about? More power? More money? Reaching the top?

But what about success at living – trying to get it right this go around?

Success at this thing we call living has always been important to me. And climbing to the top of a tree has never been a good metaphor for it. I like to think more about the word “priorities.” Getting some basic priorities in order is key. And I know that if one’s life can be organized around solid priorities, then a full and worthwhile life will be the result.

It is always risky to use sports illustrations; they just don’t speak to everyone. But let me forge ahead with an oft-quoted statement by American football coaching legend Vince Lombardi. He is remembered for saying, “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” And Lombardi’s dream was certainly to coach winning teams, but it’s a mistake to think that climbing to the top of football’s ladder of success was his greatest goal. He believed it was more important to succeed at life than at his career or anything else.

Actually, winning football games was not “the only thing” to Lombardi. He once actually listed his life priorities in this order: God, his family and his career.

He knew what was important. And he knew that keeping his priorities straight could bring him joy, peace and, ultimately, success at life. Which is probably the only thing that truly matters.

-- Steve Goodier

image: flickr.com/Jim Bowen

Things of Value

You've heard the question asked, "If your home were on fire, what you try to save?" Most people answer that they would rescue people and pets and as many photographs and memories as possible.

The question we faced was similar. We were forced to consider, "If we have to evacuate our home, what should we take with us?" Or, put another way, which of our possessions could we live without?

Our area was just a few miles from largest wildfire in Colorado's history. We were on "evacuation alert." If we got the call to evacuate, we would have to grab whatever we could save and leave immediately.

We packed suitcases with a few clothes and toiletries and set them by the door. Though these things were not valuable, time was. We moved the computers ... I made a living with my computer. We cleared out books we sold from our home office. Those books represented our livelihood. We packed financial records - who wants to hassle with the government for years over missing documents?

Now, what else? We snatched family pictures from the walls and packed scrapbooks in boxes - all sentimental objects that could not be replaced.

Then we took a hard look at all that remained. There was a lamp that belonged to my great grandmother. It was a connection to my family.

And there was the piano my wife Bev learned to play when she was a little girl. Not of great value in itself, but another family connection.

We would be leaving a hutch that belonged to her grandmother and handmade quilts and gifts from dear friends and family. All represented connections to people and memories we value, but if we were to be evacuated immediately, we would have no way to move these items.

I've never been much attached to things, but the thought of leaving behind something passed down through our families or handmade for us by dear friends saddened me deeply. It's about what they represented -- family and love. Each had a story to tell, and some of them spoke in the voices of our parents and grandparents and a few friends as close to us as family.

The fire never reached our home. We were lucky. And though I felt grateful that all was spared, I realized also just how fortunate I had been in another way. I saw just how rich my life had been. Not in things I owned, but in love I've known.

Someone wisely said, "There are people so poor that the only thing they have is money." And now I knew. I was indeed rich. I was rich in friends and family. Rich in memories. Rich in everything that really matters.

I wonder if there is any other kind of wealth worth seeking.

-- Steve Goodier

Image by flickr.com/Cinzia A. Rizzo