May 6 2010

Something to Say

When I read “My Time is Your Time” by Merrill J. Davies in the May 2010 issue of Toastmaster, I was impressed by the emphasis she placed on staying in time when one is giving a speech. I had just recently come across a quote from Plato, “Wise men speak because they have something to say. Fools because they have to say something.” It just struck me how important it is to learn how to speak clearly and concisely, and to know that when we speak, we have something to say.


Nov 2 2009

Kids Will Believe Anything

“Kids will believe anything. And believing something is the first step toward achieving it.”

I was flying down to Arizona recently and between getting boarded and being able to fire up my laptop, I had a little time to kill. So I checked out the Spirit magazine stowed in the pouch in front of me. My mind was elsewhere and I wasn’t paying very close attention to what I was reading until I came to a column at the back titled, “Blessings Counted: Brad Paisley, The country star on luck, true gifts, and underage thinking.” I was struck by Brad’s description of his early performing experience.

“I grew up in a small town called Glen Dale, West Virginia. When I started playing guitar at age 12, the people there gave me more gigs than I could handle. They would constantly say, “Kid you’re great.” Looking back at those videotapes, I don’t think I was great. But if you tell a 12-year-old something enough, he’ll believe you. Kids will believe anything. And believing something is the first step toward achieving it.”

You know, he’s right. You give a kid enough encouragement while he’s a kid and there’ll be no stopping him when he’s an adult. So what kind of encouragement did I get as a kid? Did anyone tell me I was great? Yeah I can remember being told I was great. A lot of people told me I had a great voice. Like I said in The Interludes’ Coney Island Baby post, Kim and Michelle told me I had a good voice. Good enough that they didn’t give up until I joined choir. Then there was the day the football coach told me I had good size and should have played.

I continued to get a lot of encouragement from the people around me as I grew up. I was working as a janitor during a summer term attending college, and my supervisor told me I was too smart to work for someone else. In the Air Force, my CO, a full bird Colonel, told me I should be behind his desk, not him. That impressed me. Many people have told me I have a great voice for broadcasting.

Despite the encouragement of these and others, it’s taken me more than 40 years to finally start acting on their encouragement. If I agree with Brad—and I do—that a kid will believe anything, why has it taken me so long to believe them?

Maybe it has something to do with when I heard the messages. The earliest messages I remember are during and after high school. What about before high school? I don’t remember a lot of encouragement before then. I’m not saying there wasn’t any, but I either didn’t hear it or at some point I stopped believing it. Something had scared me. I was smart enough in grade school to be in the advanced classes, and I had some cool teachers, but the only memories that have stayed with me are of getting my tail chewed for not getting homework done or not writing very nicely. Left hander, what can I say?

What about at home? It’s been said that one of life’s injustices is that our self-esteem is pretty well established by the time we’re about 5 or 6 years old. Before we even have the chance to choose how we’d like to feel about ourselves, the choice is made for us. It’s rough, but it’s reality. So given the fact that I have a hard time digging up much in the way of encouraging messages I received up to the age of 12, I think I can deduce there either weren’t many or some other messages were louder.

So, if I didn’t get positive messages at home, can I give myself permission to bash my parents for not giving me the right encouragement when I was a kid? Can I try to make myself feel better by dragging the memories of my parents through the dirt? I can justify all of my failings by listing all the ways my Mom and Dad failed me and for a short time I’ll probably feel a little better, but in the long run it won’t do anything but sully my family name and make me feel like garbage. It’ll also waste a bunch of time I can instead be using to make real progress.

My Dad fought his demons to the best of his ability so I’d make it farther than he did, and in my opinion he did well. Though he fought a good fight during his lifetime, he couldn’t kill them all, so my dream is to finish the fight he started to help my children and grandchildren make it farther than me.

So now I’ve determined that eventually I did indeed get encouragement just as positive as Brad’s. Mine just came a little later in life. Does that make a difference? Absolutely. It makes a huge difference. By the time I started hearing encouraging words from influential people in my life, my negative perception of reality was so deep it would take 2 decades to dispel. And it’ll take a lifetime of vigilance to keep it away. A kid truly will believe anything and once that belief is planted, the adult that kid grows into is going to have a hard time believing anything else.

So, what are my options? I can accept the negative beliefs I adopted before I even knew what self-esteem was as unalterable fact? I can get angry and bitter and rail against the cosmos for my lot in life? I can suffer in silence and just live out my life avoiding the pain that change might bring about?

I don’t think so.

Sometimes I feel like a middle-aged failure, and I have to remind myself that I only become a failure when I give up. I haven’t given up and I won’t. Napoleon Hill found that nearly all of the successful individuals he interviewed in his research didn’t find their stride until they were in their 40s. I’m finding the same thing in my research. I’ve studied the lives of hundreds of people that battled far greater challenges than I, and their stories remind me it’s not too late to believe the encouragement I heard early in my life. The key is to have the heart of a child. I have to be open to change, and courageous enough to take the same risks I took as a kid. Back then I believed I could ride a bike without training wheels and through the scrapes and stitches I achieved it. Today I believe I can make a life using the talents I received so much encouragement for as a kid, and through the scrapes and stitches, I’m achieving it.

Like Abraham Lincoln, I experience loss and failure and learn from it. Like Joe Louis, I get up when I’m knocked down and find the courage to do what I love. Like Jim Morris and Vince Papale, I trust in my heart and never give up on my dreams. Like Walt Disney, I believe in my ideas and ignore the skeptics and naysayers. And like Tom Monaghan, I focus on what I have, not what I’ve lost.

I’ve been accused of being immature. That’s fine with me. If I’m still a kid, I can still believe in something. And, like Brad Paisley, I know that believing is indeed the first step toward achieving.

I’m glad there’s still some kid left in me, because I still need to believe.

And achieve.


Oct 1 2009

Mule Sense

Choices.
I still have choices.
Sometimes the turmoil surrounding me tries to make me feel helpless. Like my situation is hopeless and out of my control. It’s not true. If there’s one thing my situation is teaching me, it’s that I can lose control of almost every aspect of my life except my attitude and my freedom to choose.
I choose to get up each morning. I choose how to face each day. I choose to be positive or negative. I choose to keep going or to give up.
Which reminds me of an old dry well and a wise old mule.
You see there was a farmer that had an abandoned well on his property. Though the well had been dry for years, all he’d ever done to close it up was throw some boards over it. Well, as luck would have it, one day his old mule wandered over those rickety boards and Crash! Down she went. Incredibly, the fall didn’t kill her, but it definitely scared the bajeezes out of her and her brays attracted the attention of the whole farm. Everyone came running. Initially pleased that she had survived the fall, their joy slowly turned to despair as their attempts to rescue her failed one after another and they slowly ran out of ideas. Finally, the farmer made the difficult decision that they would just have to bury her right there in the well. He gathered his neighbors and they went to work. Of course, as the first shovelfuls of dirt landed on her back, that poor old mule’s cries intensified, but as the farmer and his neighbors continued; her cries slowly faded and were finally silenced. Amidst sadness and tears, they continued their work and it was some time later that the farmer thought he heard something. It was the sound of shuffling, and it was coming from inside the well. He stopped his work and, while the others continued, leaned over to look into the well. To his astonishment, there was the old mule! She was much higher now and his curiosity about why she wasn’t buried compelled him to watch as his neighbors continued. As each shovelful of dirt landed on the old mule’s back, she would shake it off, take a step up and be closer to the surface. Eventually the level of the dirt that was supposed to bury her was high enough that she simply stepped out of the well and walked off.
Like the farmer’s old mule wandered over that hidden well, I’ve made mistakes and find myself in a deep hole from which no one can save me. In my situation, I’m faced with choices. I can give in to my depression and discouragement and simply stand idle while the problems and challenges heap up and bury me. I can panic amidst the challenges thrown down on me and waste huge amounts of energy throwing myself against the walls or trying to claw my way out until I’m exhausted, bloodied and beaten.
Or, I can get a little mule sense and do everything in my power to stay calm, fight back my fear and doubt and confront the challenges before me with a clear head. Instead of being overwhelmed by the enormity of my problems as a whole, I take each shovelful as it comes, shake it off, learn how to rise above it, and then use my new knowledge to take a step up. With each problem I overcome, I find myself rising higher and drawing closer to the top of my own dry well. Shaking off future challenges is less difficult as my confidence grows from my successes, and eventually I’ll reach the surface and regain my freedom. There may be someone who can just lift me out, but if that’s the way I make my escape, this hole will remain and I will have gained little knowledge of how to avoid it in the future or how to get myself out when I fall in again. I want this hole filled in, which means I have to overcome these challenges on my own so this particular dry well will no longer be a risk to me. I want to remember the lessons I’m learning. The knowledge and experience I’m gaining by shaking off and overcoming the problems and struggles heaped on me in this hole will make it far less likely for me to fall into the same hole again.
It’s hard to see my current challenges as a good thing. They’re tough. They’re heartbreaking. Sometimes I’m sure I can’t take one more setback without breaking down and giving up. I have to work hard to find new reserves of strength and confidence. I’m constantly fighting back discouragement and depression, but I’m comforted with the knowledge that I’m in good company.
Great leaders are not great because they’re always right. They’re not great because they never experience fear, depression, doubt or anger. Throughout history, truly great leaders distinguished themselves by their humility; selfless service to country, cause or people and by their perseverance in studying out solutions to the problems before them. But most of all, great leaders are those with enough courage to make decisions in the face of withering responsibility and pressure, and live with the consequences of those decisions.
Abraham Lincoln was constantly tormented by bouts of depression. Referred to by his friends and associates as his “melancholy”, it was his grim feelings that kept his emotions close to the surface. He could weep openly; he had a penchant for maudlin poetry and odd jokes which he claimed his survival depended on.
Winston Churchill referred to the bouts of depression he experienced throughout his life as his “black dogs”. They were particularly frequent and debilitating during his service as Prime Minister. For years he saw his warnings of Germany’s ambitions ignored, only to be called upon to lead the country when they began to be carried out and after Germany had developed enough military strength to make any attempt to halt those ambitions a long and difficult struggle.
The Second World War would eventually require the services of another great leader; one whose life would be similarly marked not by ambition, entitlement, or privilege, but by dedicated service to his country. Dwight D. Eisenhower experienced his own bouts of depression exacerbated by the pressures and responsibilities thrust upon him as the supreme commander of the allied forces in Europe and the one man upon whom the decision would rest to give the go ahead for the invasion of German occupied Normandy. General Eisenhower would find some of his courage in as many as 20 cups of coffee and 4 packs of cigarettes each day. He would also spend many hours alone with his thoughts. His was a high and lonely command.
Formidable challenges before me mean difficult choices must be made. Many years ago, a very wise counselor gave me a piece of advice that I have since turned into a mantra. I sought her out during another difficult time in my life and in the midst of my descriptions of all the problems that stymied me at that time, she advised me to find a little time to be gentle with myself. She said I needed to find the space to get my thoughts together. She promised all of my problems and responsibilities would wait and that I would be better able to address them with a clear head and in a calm state of mind. She was right then and it continues to work for me. Sometimes it’s a nap; sometimes a good book; sometimes it’s an hour and sometimes a week, but it just means pulling away from the challenge that is overwhelming long enough to let the depression, discouragement and panic pass and allow my mind to work it out.
I can’t know, with certainty, the outcome of every decision I make, nor can I foresee how my decisions will affect my future. Tomorrows choices will be determined by the consequences of the choices I make today.
I’m certainly not the first person to acknowledge the painful truth that life would be empty without the growth experienced by overcoming challenges and taking steps up.
They can take away everything I’ve worked for, but they can’t take away my power to choose.
I still have choices.
I choose to dream, to hope, and to have faith.

Choices.

I still have choices.

Sometimes the turmoil surrounding me tries to make me feel helpless. Like my situation is hopeless and out of my control. It’s not true. If there’s one thing my situation is teaching me, it’s that I can lose control of almost every aspect of my life except my attitude and my freedom to choose.

I choose to get up each morning. I choose how to face each day. I choose to be positive or negative. I choose to keep going or to give up.

Which reminds me of an old dry well and a wise old mule.

You see there was a farmer that had an abandoned well on his property. Though the well had been dry for years, all he’d ever done to close it up was throw some boards over it. Well, as luck would have it, one day his old mule wandered over those rickety boards and Crash! Down she went. Incredibly, the fall didn’t kill her, but it definitely scared the bajeezes out of her and her brays attracted the attention of the whole farm. Everyone came running. Initially pleased that she had survived the fall, their joy slowly turned to despair as their attempts to rescue her failed one after another and they slowly ran out of ideas. Finally, the farmer made the difficult decision that they would just have to bury her right there in the well. He gathered his neighbors and they went to work. Of course, as the first shovelfuls of dirt landed on her back, that poor old mule’s cries intensified, but as the farmer and his neighbors continued; her cries slowly faded and were finally silenced. Amidst sadness and tears, they continued their work and it was some time later that the farmer thought he heard something. It was the sound of shuffling, and it was coming from inside the well. He stopped his work and, while the others continued, leaned over to look into the well. To his astonishment, there was the old mule! She was much higher now and his curiosity about why she wasn’t buried compelled him to watch as his neighbors continued. As each shovelful of dirt landed on the old mule’s back, she would shake it off, take a step up and be closer to the surface. Eventually the level of the dirt that was supposed to bury her was high enough that she simply stepped out of the well and walked off.

Like the farmer’s old mule wandered over that hidden well, I’ve made mistakes and find myself in a deep hole from which no one can save me. In my situation, I’m faced with choices. I can give in to my depression and discouragement and simply stand idle while the problems and challenges heap up and bury me. I can panic amidst the challenges thrown down on me and waste huge amounts of energy throwing myself against the walls or trying to claw my way out until I’m exhausted, bloodied and beaten.

Or, I can get a little mule sense and do everything in my power to stay calm, fight back my fear and doubt and confront the challenges before me with a clear head. Instead of being overwhelmed by the enormity of my problems as a whole, I take each shovelful as it comes, shake it off, learn how to rise above it, and then use my new knowledge to take a step up. With each problem I overcome, I find myself rising higher and drawing closer to the top of my own dry well. Shaking off future challenges is less difficult as my confidence grows from my successes, and eventually I’ll reach the surface and regain my freedom. There may be someone who can just lift me out, but if that’s the way I make my escape, this hole will remain and I will have gained little knowledge of how to avoid it in the future or how to get myself out when I fall in again. I want this hole filled in, which means I have to overcome these challenges on my own so this particular dry well will no longer be a risk to me. I want to remember the lessons I’m learning. The knowledge and experience I’m gaining by shaking off and overcoming the problems and struggles heaped on me in this hole will make it far less likely for me to fall into the same hole again.

It’s hard to see my current challenges as a good thing. They’re tough. They’re heartbreaking. Sometimes I’m sure I can’t take one more setback without breaking down and giving up. I have to work hard to find new reserves of strength and confidence. I’m constantly fighting back discouragement and depression, but I’m comforted with the knowledge that I’m in good company.

Great leaders are not great because they’re always right. They’re not great because they never experience fear, depression, doubt or anger. Throughout history, truly great leaders distinguished themselves by their humility; selfless service to country, cause or people and by their perseverance in studying out solutions to the problems before them. But most of all, great leaders are those with enough courage to make decisions in the face of withering responsibility and pressure, and live with the consequences of those decisions.

Abraham Lincoln was constantly tormented by bouts of depression. Referred to by his friends and associates as his “melancholy”, it was his grim feelings that kept his emotions close to the surface. He could weep openly; he had a penchant for maudlin poetry and odd jokes which he claimed his survival depended on.

Winston Churchill referred to the bouts of depression he experienced throughout his life as his “black dogs”. They were particularly frequent and debilitating during his service as Prime Minister. For years he saw his warnings of Germany’s ambitions ignored, only to be called upon to lead the country when they began to be carried out and after Germany had developed enough military strength to make any attempt to halt those ambitions a long and difficult struggle.

The Second World War would eventually require the services of another great leader; one whose life would be similarly marked not by ambition, entitlement, or privilege, but by dedicated service to his country. Dwight D. Eisenhower experienced his own bouts of depression exacerbated by the pressures and responsibilities thrust upon him as the supreme commander of the allied forces in Europe and the one man upon whom the decision would rest to give the go ahead for the invasion of German occupied Normandy. General Eisenhower would find some of his courage in as many as 20 cups of coffee and 4 packs of cigarettes each day. He would also spend many hours alone with his thoughts. His was a high and lonely command.

Formidable challenges before me mean difficult choices must be made. Many years ago, a very wise counselor gave me a piece of advice that I have since turned into a mantra. I sought her out during another difficult time in my life and in the midst of my descriptions of all the problems that stymied me at that time, she advised me to find a little time to be gentle with myself. She said I needed to find the space to get my thoughts together. She promised all of my problems and responsibilities would wait and that I would be better able to address them with a clear head and in a calm state of mind. She was right then and it continues to work for me. Sometimes it’s a nap; sometimes a good book; sometimes it’s an hour and sometimes a week, but it just means pulling away from the challenge that is overwhelming long enough to let the depression, discouragement and panic pass and allow my mind to work it out.

I can’t know, with certainty, the outcome of every decision I make, nor can I foresee how my decisions will affect my future. Tomorrows choices will be determined by the consequences of the choices I make today.

I’m certainly not the first person to acknowledge the painful truth that life would be empty without the growth experienced by overcoming challenges and taking steps up.

They can take away everything I’ve worked for, but they can’t take away my power to choose.

I still have choices.

I choose to dream, to hope, and to have faith.


Aug 14 2009

The Fight of Your Life

I’m flying down to my hometown, Phoenix, this weekend. I’ll be saying goodbye to my sister. At 53, her body is wasted by a lifelong battle with diabetes. Miraculous kidney transplants have carried her nearly a decade beyond her predicted life expectancy, but her strength is exhausted and she’s too weak to be on the list for another. She’s tired of the dialysis roller coaster, and ready to concede her battle to the disease brought on by a pancreas that couldn’t keep up. I’m awed by the fight she has waged, and I can’t fathom what she and her dear husband must be going through in making this decision. Soon her fight will come to an end and the disease will have won…or will it? She’s beaten the odds for her life expectancy; she’s touched countless numbers of lives for good; she’s been at death’s door more times than I can remember, each time fighting back to have a little more time with her husband and family. Many times and in many ways she has cowed this disease that has slowly deteriorated her body. For that I consider her victorious in the fight of her life.

And she leaves on her own terms…

How are you doing?

I was in a class recently and the teacher shared an experience that got me thinking. He described conversations he had engaged in with a couple of close friends.  During the course of the conversations, each of his friends shared that they were giving up on goals or commitments they had made to themselves or to others with the explanation that “they are just tired of fighting.”

They’re just tired of fighting.

Of course, they also could’ve said they’re just tired of growing; or climbing; or improving; or learning; or changing.

Sadly, few of us ever have the pleasure of knowing when our “fight” is going to be over. One of life’s most daunting mysteries is that the future remains unknown until we arrive. Our challenge is to keep fighting; learning; increasing, with no knowledge of how much time we’ll be given, or how long our fight will go on. Often, even the desired objective changes in the midst of the fight.

There’s a billboard along the highway near my home displaying an image of Abraham Lincoln, our 16th President and one of the greatest leaders who has ever lived. Written beside his image are the words, “Failed, failed, failed, and then…” Do you think he ever got tired of fighting? According to John A. Sarkett, in Extraordinary Comebacks, and Darcy Andries, in The Secret of Success is Not a Secret, Abraham Lincoln could have decided he was tired of fighting after the death of his fiancée Ann Rutledge, or after his first or second dry goods store failed. He could have decided he was tired of fighting when he was defeated in his bids for Speaker of the House of Representatives, for the U.S. Senate, for Vice President, and again for the Senate. Instead, he chose to fight on. And how grateful we are that his “greatest concern (was) not whether (he had) failed, but whether (he became) content with (his) failure.”

Which failure do you think should have given him enough reason to be tired of fighting?

Almost a century later, on December 17th, 1944 the U.S. Army’s 101st Airborne Division joined the Battle of the Bulge arriving in the city of Bastogne ahead of German forces. The 101st formed a perimeter around the city and withstood German artillery with minimal supplies and with many members of the division having been deployed so quickly they arrived without winter clothes. On the fifth day of the siege, the German artillery barrage paused and two German Officers delivered a letter from the German Commander, Generalleutnant Heinrich Freiherr von Lüttwitz, requesting the surrender of Bastogne. Acting commander, General Anthony McAuliffe’s single word response was “Nuts!” In the end the 101st held Bastogne until reinforcements arrived never allowing it to fall into enemy hands.

At what point do you think they were tired of fighting?

Another half century later, during the 1980 Winter Olympic Games in Lake Placid, New York, the U.S. Olympic hockey team would come from behind in six of the seven games they would win on their way to the gold medal.

When do you think they should have given up the fight?

The problem with far too many of us is that we excuse ourselves before the fight is over.

Obviously, these examples are intended to inspire those ready to give up the fight, but my hope is that they are also a source of strength to those who want to fight on but whose hope may be flagging. What if you’re among those who’ve found the strength to claw your way forward a few more inches; a few more days; another step; you’ve dug deep to find the last dregs of hope hidden in your heart only to find another obstacle in your way. You have no interest in excusing yourself from the challenges before you, but you’re beginning to fear just how long these last vestiges of hope will hold out.

While the stories of those who eventually succeeded in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds appear to ask us to give more to the fight than we have to give, they also remind us that the fight isn’t over. And if the fight isn’t over, we’re not beaten. The fight goes on and there’s still time to turn the tables and overcome the obstacles that stand in our way. Study the lives of those who found the strength to fight; to grow; to learn; to stretch; to change.

We can explore untapped talents and skills. We can find the strength to accept our weaknesses and seek out those who can help us turn them into strengths. We have to develop the discipline to stop doing what we’ve done in order to stop getting we’ve gotten.

Thomas Edison believed “Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.”

Success is attainable and it’s closer than we realize.

This is the fight of your life.

It’s the fight for your life.

Failure…is not an option.