Radically Honest

I want to tell you a story about a man in Utah named Josh Ferrin. Josh found $40,000 cash in the attic of the home he had just purchased. The previous owner had passed away, leaving the home to his six adult children. Those children removed things of value from the home and then sold it to Ferrin. (Well, they didn’t actually remove everything of value…)

When Ferrin went into the attic he found several metal boxes tucked under the eaves. To his surprise, he discovered they were full of one hundred dollar bills, bundled together with twine and stashed away by the now deceased previous owner. Ferrin treated his lucrative find as a windfall. He saw a golden opportunity and he took it; but - not in the way you might imagine. I’ll just let him tell you in his own words:

Josh was quoted as saying “…I don’t believe you get a chance very often to do something radically honest, to do something ridiculously awesome for someone else, and that is a lesson I hope to teach to my children.” 

So he contacted the family who had sold him the home and returned the money; all $40,000 of it, and in so doing, he seized the opportunity to enrich his character rather than his bank account. 

When I first heard this story, I got goose bumps (still get them, actually). Not because Ferrin gave the money back, which was impressive in and of itself, but because of the incredible amount of wisdom contained in his statement to the press. Frankly, there are religions that have been built around less. In one short phrase, he offered up three tenets of personal excellence that, if followed consistently, would dramatically change the world around us:

• Be radically honest. I’m not talking about telling someone “Yes – those pants do make you look fat”. The type of honesty that I’m talking about, and what I also believe that Ferrin was talking about, is knowing exactly what you value and disciplining yourself to behave according to those values, regardless of the personal cost involved. It’s about doing the right thing rather than the easy thing, and as most of us already know, they are seldom the same thing. Being radically honest requires that we be willing to look deep into the dark places in our lives, and mercilessly root out any attitudes and behaviors that are contrary or detrimental to our pursuit of excellence.  Radical honesty is a lifestyle – not an event.

• Do good things for others, or as Josh put it, “do something ridiculously awesome for someone else”.  Not because they have earned it, but because “good planted is good harvested”. Someone once said “Being good is commendable, but only when it is combined with doing good is it useful.” Those of you who have spent any time on this planet know that it can sometimes be a harsh place, and that often times (if not most times), the only comfort we receive comes through the efforts of others. None of us want to live in a world where it is “every man for himself”, but we persist in creating one that is exactly that. If you want the world to be a better, kinder, gentler and safer place, then make it that way.
  
  Edward Everett Hale summed it up simply: “I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something.  And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do.”

• Teach your children to be people of character. Building character is not the responsibility of the government, it is not the responsibility of the school system, it is not the responsibility of the church: it is your responsibility. Children with self-discipline see it modeled by their parents, and the same is true for all of the other virtues. Children are the architects of the future, so teach them to build the world you want to live in. And remember, they will follow your example much more quickly than they will follow your advice, so preach less and practice more.

I don’t know Josh, but I think I would like him. If any of you do know Josh, shake his hand for me and tell him “thanks for being radically honest.”

Three Lessons in Planning We Can Learn From the Fukushima Disaster

The Huffington Post has just released an article that indicates poor planning and lack of accountability may have played a significant role in the degree of destruction experienced at the Fukushima Dai-ichi Nuclear Power Plant. What can each of us learn from this disaster in relation to our own lives and careers?

1) You Can’t Navigate Today’s Problems Using Yesterday’s Maps. Japanese nuclear regulators trusted that the reactors at Fukushima were safe based on a single-page memo that was written nearly ten years earlier and had not been revised or reviewed since. As outrageous as we may find this, many of us are taking the same laissez faire approach to our personal and professional lives. When was the last time you actually sat down and took an unflinching look at your current situation? Are you where you want to be? What might have seemed like the right direction a few years ago may no longer be adequate now. Is it time to plan a new route or change your destination?  Times change, people change, and resources change. Make sure that you are navigating your current situation using the most up-to-date information.

2) Assume nothing. The devil is in the details. The company that owned the Fukushima plant told Japanese officials that the plant was safe, and the officials took their word for it. They didn’t ask for validation, clarification or specifics. We may shake our head at the Japanese government’s naiveté, but we can easily fall into the same sort of thinking in our own lives. How many times have you trusted an “expert” rather than your gut? There is something to be said for considering the expertise of others, but even experts make mistakes and have agendas. If your reputation, health or personal welfare is at stake, then verify, verify, verify. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather look suspicious than foolish.

3) Hope for the Best, but Plan for the Worst. To assume that something might not happen, because it has never happened before, is reasonable. To assume that something will not happen, because it has never happened before, is careless. The officials at the Fukushima plant planned for an earthquake that would not exceed a magnitude of 8.6, but the March 2011 earthquake was a magnitude 9.0 – four times larger than they had planned for. The nuclear plant was designed to withstand tsunami waves of 18.7 feet, but the actual tsunami waves reached 46 feet.  Prior to the March earthquake, planning and building for such a catastrophic event would have looked excessive and wasteful. In hindsight, it would have been prudent and responsible. While the consequence of overly-optimistic planning in our personal and professional lives is unlikely to be equal to that of a nuclear meltdown, the lesson remains. As Denis Waitley says, “Hope for the best, plan for the worst, and prepare to be surprised.” After all, it wasn’t raining when Noah built the Ark.

What It Means To Be A Hero

I have been reading the book, The Translator: A Tribesman’s Memoir of Darfur. The book centers around one man’s efforts to make a difference in his own country, one which was being decimated by war and genocide.  The author, Daoud Hari, was not a great warrior or a great politician, he was simply a tribesman from Northern Darfur who knew how to speak English, and decided to use those skills in an attempt to save his people and their way of life.  While talking to a coworker about the book, he made a remark about genocide and “man’s inhumanity toward man”, and that set me to thinking about what it actually means to be "humane".

The dictionary defines “humane” as: “being characterized by sympathy with, or consideration, compassion and benevolence for others, especially for the suffering or distressed.” I would like to believe that such characteristics are what make us human, but sadly, history has proven that is not the case. The truth is that there is far more to being humane than simply being human. 

Being humane is an act of will; we must choose to be sympathetic, considerate, compassionate, and giving. I have never held to the idea that humans are innately good or innately evil. We ultimately become who we are by how we choose to respond the events in our lives; in that regard, we are all "self made men". While our culture, family and genetics play a role in how we interact with the world around us, at the end of the day, we still have the freedom to choose our behaviors. The choices we make are clear statements to the world about what we value. When we choose to do the right thing, rather than the easy thing, we are able to move from being human to being humane. 

Every day, each and every one of us is being challenged to live out our values in our personal and professional lives. We must decide what battles we will fight and which ones we will walk away from. Will we stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves? Will we devote our energies to making a positive difference in the areas in which we have the power to do so? Or, will we accept the status quo and walk away because the costs are high and the risk too great? What device will we use to measure the magnitude of our courage? More specifically, what are you using to measure yours? When was the last time you got involved in making a positive impact in an area in which you stood to gain nothing except the satisfaction derived from doing so?

This world needs heroes; but, I think we are confused about who they are. In the words of the late Arthur Ashe, “True heroism is remarkably sober; very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.” We don’t need another Superman; we just need a lot of committed Clark Kents.

I am still holding onto the hope that there are heroes out there who will intervene on the behalf of those who need them; that our citizens and our legislators will be swayed by, in the words of Abraham Lincoln, “the better angels of our nature”. I continue to hope that for every ten that applaud the efforts of others, there will be one who takes up the cause himself. Not because of what he stands to gain by standing up, but what he stands to lose by sitting down. 

French novelist Romain Rolland wrote, “A hero is a man who does what he can.”

So, what can you do to ease a burden, lift a worry, or change a life? Find that thing, then do it with all your heart. Ultimately, it may not change the world, but it will definitely change you.

Living a Life Worth Watching

Getting older is a trade-off. For each year we gain in lifespan, we lose a little more hair, a little more energy and a few more aging friends. Time truly is an unrepentant thief. The great sculptor Michelangelo once said, “The more the marble wastes, the more the statue grows.” He may not have been talking about our aging bodies, but it is a fitting analogy. At least, it is a fitting analogy for my friend Jim.

Jim turned ninety last week, and like anyone who has lived a long life, he has seen and done a great many things. I love to hear his stories of Hollywood in the 30s and 40s, of his lovely wife Billie and her life as a Rockette, of his travels and chance encounters with the “rich and famous”, and of his treasure chest of friendships that have survived over half a century. I bought him a pin-on badge to wear during his birthday celebration that says “I have survived damn near everything.” It should have said “I have survived damn near everything and in spite of it all I have maintained my dignity, my sense of humor, my enthusiasm for life, most of my teeth and my good looks.” But, it was just a little pin-on badge - not a billboard.

Jim epitomizes what I hope to be at ninety. Mainly - alive. (smile)

But all kidding aside, I don’t mean “alive” in the sense of “still breathing”, but “alive” as in “engaged in the joy of this present moment”. Life is, after all, about more than respiration. It is about seeing the humor, the wonder, and the mystery that is endemic to the human experience, and choosing to embrace it rather than run from it. It’s about finding inspiration and satisfaction in this life rather than waiting for an afterlife. It’s about growing in wisdom even as we diminish in physical stature. It’s about maintaining our belief that life is good, even when bad things happen.

Far too often, I think, we measure life by the quantity of the years we’ve lived rather than by the quality of the years we’ve lived. The end result is a willingness to accept a life that has length, but no depth. We walk in the shallows and become shallow ourselves.

A very wise person once remarked “One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it’s worth watching.” Jim’s life is worth watching at full-fare, non-matinee pricing, and I want mine to be too. When the credits roll at the end, I hope people think they’ve had the chance to view an epic.

So tonight, raise a glass in a toast to my friend Jim, and celebrate the inspiration that a life well-lived brings to others. Then get out there and inspire someone.

Lost and Found: Focusing on What Remains

Ever since I can remember, I have loved the written word. As a child, I spent most, if not all, of my allowance on books. While other kids were cutting class in high school to go to the mall, I was cutting class to go to the library. (By the way, librarians will NOT ask why you aren’t in class if you are quietly reading a book. I know this from experience.) I was a bibliogeek (I made that word up). Still am. I would rather read than do just about anything else. I love the smell of ink on paper. I love the dry whisper of another turned page. I would rather take a leisurely stroll through a book store than spend a day at an amusement park. Books bring me a tremendous amount of joy, but this love of the printed word could also launch me into despair if I allowed it to. Here’s why.

Due to an inherited condition called PXE, I am slowly losing my ability to see. And this, ultimately, means my ability to read. Barring a dramatic breakthrough in treatment, there will come a day when I will no longer be able to read a printed book. So, somewhat grudgingly, I now own a Kindle and an iPad and the various apps that allow me to read books on my laptop. With these concessions to technology, I can electronically enlarge fonts and continue to read, at least for a while, when print on paper has stopped being a possibility for me. And when the time comes that I can’t see even the biggest fonts, I will listen to audio books, because I refuse to give up on living a life full of the things that matter to me. I’m stubborn that way. I might lose some of the experience of reading, but the stories remain.  

Loss is an inescapable part of the human condition. But if we allow our focus to remain fixed what we’ve lost, rather than what remains, we will lose heart. Someone once said “life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage”. I don’t think of myself as being particularly brave, but I’m no coward either. So, I choose to fix my eyes (such as they are) on what remains, and frankly, that is a lot.

My advice to anyone facing obstacles is this: Stop thinking about what you can’t do and start doing what you can. The very courageous writer, Peter McWilliams, once said “If one person has ever done it, you can too. If no one has ever done it, you could be the first.” 

Here are the inspiring stories of people who chose to expand their life in proportion to their courage. They have not focused on their loss but on what remains. You can do the same.

Jean-Dominique Bauby

Jessica Cox

Natalie du Toit

Life After Loss

Our company lost an employee this past week to an automobile accident. As word spread throughout the organization, I heard the same phrases repeated time and again; “she was so young” and “she showed so much promise”. As I pondered these sentiments, I was reminded of what we mourn when we lose someone to the finality of death. We mourn the future: the future those lost will never see and the future those remaining will build without them. The future will arrive for us, but it will not be the same one we had envisioned. A small piece of our identity has disappeared along with their presence. Our future has become a stranger and we are afraid of linking arms with it; scared of where it will lead us. Who will we become without this child, spouse, parent, or friend? 

If I could give each of my loved ones a gift before my death it would be this: the reassurance that I love them, that they are strong and capable and need not fear, that they have brought me far more joy than pain. I would want them to know that the fierce wind of grief will blow itself out, like the cold wind of March, and leave gently. That the memory of me will eventually bring smiles and not tears. I would want them to know that a future without me would be different, but that different doesn’t mean empty. I would give them the courage to trust that these things are true.

I hope for a long life, but more still, I hope for one filled with gentleness, kindness and the joy of love. And I hope that for each of you as well. 

PS – Jessica, your unexpected leaving has reminded us to number our days and live accordingly. I wish we could have known you longer.

The Truth About Goals

We’ve all set goals for ourselves, and through hard work and dedication, we’ve probably met most of them. Goals are good. Actually, they are better than good. They are essential for keeping us on track, both personally and professionally. But goals should never become anything more than ways in which we mark our progress along the path we’ve chosen to take. Far too often, we set our sights on something and take off in hot pursuit, oblivious to what lies between us and the goal. 

A number of years ago, my husband’s work required that we move our family to Alaska, a journey of nearly 5000 miles. We decided that rather than travel by air and miss all of the scenery along the way, we would take several weeks and make a leisurely drive through the US and Canada, stopping along the way to “see what we could see”. My memories of those weeks are rich with family time and breathtaking natural beauty. We had an ultimate destination in mind, and we were determined to get there, but we learned and saw so much along the way. 

It turns out that Anchorage is an American city much like other mid-sized American cities; it’s just a lot further away from everything! But at the end of the journey, I knew a lot more about what lay in between my old home and new home, and most of it was stunningly beautiful. If getting from point A to point B had been our focus, with no time for observation in between, we would still have ultimately arrived in Anchorage, but we would have been poorer for it. 

And so it is with many of the goals we set for ourselves. The possibility exists that the reaching of the goal itself will be lackluster; better in our imagination than it is in reality. We will find that the true value was in what lay between the start and the finish.

Know where you are headed and plan how to get there, but keep your attention where it belongs – on the road itself. The road you travel isn’t what separates you from your destination; it’s what leads you to it.

I welcome your comments and the stories of your own journeys toward your goals.

Permission to Drift

We live in a world obsessed with speed. I typed the word “speed” into my internet browser and it delivered 94,000,000 results in .09 seconds.  Interestingly, we are no longer amazed by this. We expect it, and anything less simply won’t do.

Car makers sell us on how fast their cars will go, improved cleaning products tout that they will clean in “half the time”, and technology is evolving so quickly that a product is practically obsolete by the time we’ve learned to use it. We build high speed trains, add high speed lanes to the expressway, purchase high-speed internet, and are annoyed when our “fast food” isn’t being handed out the window by the time we drive around the building. With all this speed, you’d think we would have a surplus of time each day to do the things we actually enjoy, but that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. 

Almost everyone bemoans the fact that they “don’t have enough time” to do what has to be done, much less what they want to do. Each day speeds into the next in a blur of deadlines, emails, cell calls, and appointments. At the end of the day, if we ever get a moment to slow down without immediately falling into the sleep of pure exhaustion, we may find ourselves wondering if this is how it is destined to be… life as the “blur” that occurs between two great, silent pauses…

While technology may have evolved at the speed of light, the human body has not. We are simply not built to withstand life at the extreme pace our current culture demands without beginning to break down; either emotionally, physically or both. In order to survive at the most basic level, we need rest; in order to thrive and grow, we need things in our life which bring us peace, joy, and satisfaction. 

I recently returned from a week of much needed peace. No cell calls, no email, no internet. I had no appointments, no commitments and no plans. I simply sat with the sun on my shoulders and a book in my lap. Sometimes I took a walk. It took a day or two to clear the noise out of my head, to find escape from the grip of busyness that holds me in its tyranny far too much of the time. Countless times during those first few days, the Voice Of Busyness told me to check my email, watch the news, send a text, surf the web, or just go do something. I ignored it, but it was difficult. Eventually though, the annoying Voice Of Busyness quieted down and I was able to hear my own thoughts again. Not the noisy, busy, work thoughts I normally have. Not the thoughts about what I needed to do next, but thoughts about the kind of person that I want to be and the things that are important to me.

Author James Gleick once wrote:

“Recognize that neither technology nor efficiency can acquire more time for you, because time is not a thing you have lost. It is not a thing you ever had. It is what you live in. You can drift or you can swim, but it will carry you along either way.”

I am under no illusions as to how far down the river my journey has taken me. The mirror and my aching knees remind me every day. But I know this much is true: I am a better swimmer after I have allowed myself some time to drift. 

When is the last time you gave yourself permission to stop struggling and simply float for awhile?

Change and Commitment: Two Sides of the Same Coin

Recently, while chatting with a coworker, he made reference to someone who kept repeating the same negative, self-destructive behaviors over and over again. When I asked him if he saw any sign that the person might reform, he shrugged and asked, “Can a leopard change his spots?” He meant the question to be a rhetorical one, but it made me think…

There seems to be a Freudian revival underway in the field of psychology, and a growing number of scientists (and pseudo-scientists) are promoting the notion that very little of human behavior is dictated by the conscious mind. Their premise is that the unconscious mind dictates our behavior, and that we are very much “hard wired” to behave the way we do. (If you get the chance, read the book Incognito: The Secret lives of the Brain, by David Eagleman, for an interesting perspective on this theory.) While I don’t disagree that the unconscious mind plays a significant role in our behavior, I resist the implication that people are slaves to forces over which they have no control; that we cannot override our predispositions through conscious effort and free will. While it’s true that a leopard cannot change its spots, it’s also worth noting that people aren’t leopards.

I have known many people, myself included, who have made deliberate, conscious, painful decisions to change behaviors; and the change occurred over time, accompanied by many stumbles, outright falls and a repeatedly bruised ego. Humans can change for the better when they are committed to doing so. But here’s the rub: Commitment and change are two sides of the same coin. We cannot have one without the other. There are no magic bullets, no easy fixes, and no overnight transformations when it comes to rewiring our brains to affect new behaviors. The decision to change can be made in a moment, but the change itself is wrought over time. 

If you have made a decision about changing your life, make the commitment as well. Then, move forward with confidence. Don’t let anyone convince you that you have a destiny over which you have no control. Be patient with yourself when you stumble, praise yourself when you advance, and in the words of Winston Churchill, “Never, never, never, never give up.”

Find the "Take Away" Value

Some of the most annoying and “unlovely” people I have ever known have had the biggest positive impact on my life; but not in the way they thought they would. There are three that immediately come to mind.

One was my tenth grade high school English teacher. She treated every student with open hostility. She publicly berated students for poor performance, operating under the misguided notion that humiliating someone would inspire them to try harder.  She swore to us that one day we would come back and thank her for being so hard on us. To the best of my knowledge, none of us ever did. Her arrogant notion that being unkind was the same thing as being “firm” was a lesson to be sure, but not the one she intended. I didn’t enjoy my experience with this teacher, and I don’t remember learning much about English from her either, but I did learn that you can’t successfully illuminate someone’s path with a hand grenade. Kindness matters.

The second “inspiration” was a former coworker. She was incredibly talented, but was also incredibly insecure. As a result, she criticized, back-stabbed and undermined the careers of everyone around her as she attempted to make her way to the top of the corporate ladder. She cared for no one, and frankly, no one cared for her. She may have been “successful”, but it was a very hollow victory. From her, I learned that success without honor is like a cake without sugar. It might satisfy your hunger for a while, but it won’t taste good. 

The third lesson came from a former boss who was the most suspicious-minded person I have ever known. She insisted on reading every document her employees created, no matter how minor in importance. She looked through our desk drawers when we weren’t in our office. She lingered outside doorways to eavesdrop on conversations. She demanded a full accounting of every phone conversation. Her behavior would lead you to believe we worked in such clandestine operations as the CIA, but we were just a local non-profit organization providing health care to underprivileged kids. I don’t know why she was so unable to trust; perhaps she had been deeply betrayed by someone at some point in time. Whatever her reasons, they made her and those around her miserable. But, from that experience I developed a habit that I carry to this day: Mainly, live your life as though someone is always watching. If you wouldn’t want to read about it in the next day’s paper, then don’t do it.  

Each situation in which we find ourselves has a lesson from which we can benefit, if we are willing to dig for it. In one of my earlier posts I talked about labeling our experiences and how the mere fact of labeling the experience changes our perspective. While none of the above experiences is a pleasant memory, I didn’t come away empty-handed. I have committed myself to never letting an experience go to waste, because after all, what is life but the sum total of our combined experiences?

I would encourage you to take the time to inventory your life experiences and consciously look for the positive “take-away” value. It isn’t about being naïve or overly optimistic, it’s about taking charge of your life. In the words of Holocaust survivor ,Viktor Frankl:

“Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms is to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way.”