Author: Bob Dailey

Bob Dailey. Born and raised in Southern California...now in Oklahoma. Graduated from (and met my future wife at) Cal Poly Pomona, in 1988. Married to Janet 37-plus years. Father of two: Julianne and Jennifer. Grandfather of 9! Held many leadership positions in small, medium, and large companies (and even owned a company for about 7 years). Tractor operator, competitive stair climber, camper, off-roader, occasional world traveler, sometimes mountain biker, and writer.

Finding Your Authentic Swing

What about the inevitable shanks, worm-burners, wicked slices, massive hooks, and just plain misses?

“Yep… Inside each and every one of us is one true authentic swing… Somethin’ we was born with… Somethin’ that’s ours and ours alone… Somethin’ that can’t be taught to ya or learned… Somethin’ that got to be remembered… Over time the world can, rob us of that swing… It get buried inside us under all our wouldas and couldas and shouldas… Some folk even forget what their swing was like…”

-Bagger Vance

The Legend of Bagger Vance is filled with good stuff. It’s a movie that moseys along with a subtle, southern rhythm. It conveys a depth of meaning without trying. The movie challenges each viewer to look at themselves as much as the characters.

I do agree that our authentic swings can get buried under the wouldas, couldas, and shouldas of life. They can just as easily be uncovered by the leaps, possibilities, why-not’s, and I’m-in’s.

That being said, I must disagree with Mr. Vance’s notion that we each have one true authentic swing. I rather think we have more than one authentic swing, if we choose to search. Not only that, we have a lot of clubs in our bag. We have an almost infinite number of authentic-swing-and-club combinations to choose from when our time comes to stand over the ball, and deliver.

What about the inevitable shanks, worm-burners, wicked slices, massive hooks, and just plain misses?

The best among us are the ones who find a way to recover, and swing again.

Will Smith at his best…

Photo Credit

The Mystery of the Dots

Our lives can seem like a collection of random experiences, decisions, non-decisions, near-misses, lucky chances, chance encounters, crazy ideas…

I recently participated in my first Church retreat. It opened with an exercise where each participant drew a seashell out of a pile of seashells. Written inside each shell was one word. The facilitator then asked each of us to say how this one word connects with our lives.

My word was Mystery.

As I sat pondering the word, I couldn’t help thinking about all the dots in my life that have connected to bring me here.

Connect-the-dot puzzles are a great way to teach kids how to count, and see that there can be order in the apparent chaos of a bunch of dots on a page.

Our lives can seem like a collection of random experiences, decisions, non-decisions, near-misses, lucky chances, chance encounters, crazy ideas, mundane thoughts, risky ventures, explorations, challenges, victories, losses, successes, failures, limitations, beliefs, non-beliefs, triumphs, heartbreaks, new directions, people, places and things.

These are our dots.

We create some of the dots, but most of them are already there, waiting for us to connect.

Which dot comes next? Do we choose, or is it chosen for us? Is there a pattern, or at least some path, in all these dots? I like to think we have something to do with deciding which dot comes next, but certainly not everything.

Nearly every major turning point in my life (good and bad, but mostly good) was unplanned. Sure, I may have been prepared to capitalize, but the actual “dot” came out of nowhere, often by chance.

To paraphrase a quote from The Way (a movie I highly recommend, by the way), “You don’t choose a life, you live it.” We all make plans, and try to map out where we’re headed. The truth is, we don’t have as much control over things as we’d like to think.

Letting go of the illusion of control is a big step toward happiness.

The happiest people I know live their lives as a verb, rather than something to be controlled, or pondered in the past tense. They are always seeking, always learning, always renewing. They usually spend a lot of time serving others. They don’t know which dot comes next, but they’re open to the possibilities.

I can see some big dots in my future, but I know there are a bunch I don’t see. That’s the great mystery that makes life so awesome.

Finding the Next Higher Gear

That’s when I noticed my habit of shifting to a lower gear as the trail gets steeper ahead…

If you haven’t tried mountain biking, you don’t know what you’re missing. It combines many of the best things in life:

Being outdoors, hard work, freedom, speed, some risk, and fun.

Like many sports, it’s also a great way to find your limits, and extend them a bit.

Mountain bike trails are either climbing or descending. They may be smooth, rough, tight, rocky, rutted, or any combination of these.

Steep downhills have always scared me. Way too fast for my taste. That impossible battle with gravity, choosing the safest line, avoiding rocks, and leaning far enough back to avoid being pitched over the handlebars, make most steep downhills a game of survival for me. Definitely outside my comfort zone.

I prefer climbing. Give me a long, steep climb and I’m happy. Tired, but happy. Sure, gravity’s against me, but it’s not trying to throw me over the handlebars, or off the mountain side. I get to focus on my pedaling rhythm, staying within myself, and seeing how fast I can climb the next steep hill. It puts my mind in a quiet place.

Until someone goes around, gives a wave, and climbs out of sight! He may be half my age, but that’s no excuse. He’s found a way to put both himself and his bike in the next higher gear (or maybe a few higher gears).

That’s when I noticed my habit of shifting to a lower gear as the trail gets steeper ahead. I haven’t reached the steeper section, and yet I’m already downshifting. One could call this good preparation.

Or, fear. Fear of being caught off-guard by the steeper trail. Fear of actually finding my limits. Fear that I can’t handle the next higher gear. Fear that I’ll blow-up and have to stop, gasping for air.

Napolean Hill was right when he said, “the only limitation is that which one sets up in one’s own mind.”

As I watched that guy climb out of sight, I decided to experiment with the next higher gear. Catching him wasn’t my goal. That wasn’t going to happen. Finding my limit became my new goal. Whenever my habit said I should downshift, I purposely clicked to the next higher gear and left it there. Suffice it to say, I found my limit a few times.

More often than not, I merely climbed faster, and clicked to even higher gears.

Since I was climbing, I had time to think. The question that kept rolling around my head was whether I have the same habit of preemptively downshifting in other areas of my life.

Time to find out.

Photo Credit

Two Stories for Lent

As Lent begins, I thought I’d share these two stories…

As Lent begins, I thought I’d share these two stories. Both are classics, and worthy of contemplation:

The Doctor and the Father

A doctor entered the hospital in a hurry after being called in for an urgent surgery. He had answered the call, dropped what he was doing, and went directly to the surgery ward. He found the boy’s father pacing in the hall waiting for the doctor.

On seeing him, the father yelled, “Why did you take all this time to come? Don’t you know that my son’s life is in danger? Don’t you have any sense of responsibility?”

The doctor smiled and said, “I am sorry. I wasn’t in the hospital and I came as fast as I could after receiving the call. And now, I wish you’d calm down so that I can do my work.”

“Calm down?! If that was your son in that room, would you calm down?” asked the father angrily.

The doctor smiled again and replied, “I will say what Job said in the Holy Book: ‘From dust we came and to dust we return, blessed be the name of God.’ Doctors cannot prolong lives. Go and pray for your son, and we will do our best by God’s grace.”

“Giving such advice is easy when you’re not concerned,” murmured the father.

The surgery took many hours, after which the doctor went out happily to greet the father. “Thank goodness, the surgery was successful, and your son is saved!” And without waiting for the father’s reply, he carried on his way running down the hall toward the exit, as he yelled, “If you have any further questions, please ask the nurse!”

“Why is he so arrogant? He couldn’t wait a few minutes so that I could ask about my son’s state?” asked the father when he saw the nurse minutes after the doctor had left.

The nurse answered, tears coming down her face, “His son died yesterday in a car accident. He was at the funeral when we called him for your son’s surgery. And now that he saved your son’s life, he left running to attend what’s left of his son’s funeral.”

We go through life, never truly knowing what burdens others are carrying.

Which are you? The doctor, or the father?

Lunch with God

A little boy wanted to meet God. He packed his suitcase with dress clothes, and some packets of cakes for his journey. He walked a long way and felt tired.

As he sat in a park to rest, he opened a packet of cake to eat. Then he noticed an old woman sitting sadly with hunger nearby, so he offered her a piece of cake.

She gratefully accepted it with a wide look and smiled at him. Her smile was so pretty that the boy longed to see it again. After some time, he offered another piece of cake. Again, she accepted it and smiled at him.

The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

When it grew dark, the boy was frightened and he got up to leave but before he had gone more than a few steps, he ran back and gave her a hug and she kissed him with her prettiest smile.

When the boy got home and opened the door, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, “What did you do today that made you look so happy?”

He replied, “I had lunch with God.” Before his mother could respond, he added, “You know what? She’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen in my life!”

Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home. Her son was stunned by the look of peace on her face and asked, “Mom, what did you do today that made you so happy?”

She replied, “I ate cakes in the park with God.” Before her son responded, she added, “You know, he’s much younger than I expected.”

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring. Each has the potential to turn a life around.

People come into our lives for a reason, for a season, or for a lifetime. Accept each of them equally, and let them see God in you.

The Four Most Important Letters in Leadership: L-O-V-E

It’s no coincidence that these letters spell out love…

It doesn’t matter whether we’re talking about business, politics, sports, charities, social clubs, or just about any other area where human beings come together to accomplish something. The most important determining factor in an organization’s success is the quality of its leadership.

What makes a strong leader? Is it the one with the loudest voice? The guy who makes the best speeches? The one who puts in the most hours? Is it the dude ordering people around the most?

Of course, it’s none of these.

The best leaders focus on the four most important letters in leadership: L-O-V-E

L—Listen and Learn. Strong leaders are curious. They never stop asking questions. They have two ears and one mouth so they can listen twice as much as they talk. A strong leader listens to employees, customers, competitors, “the market,” and any other source of information available. A true leader is constantly learning, and knows he doesn’t have all the answers.

O—Observe and Organize. Leaders make time to observe what’s really happening. They don’t rely solely on the stories people tell. They measure the reality. Leaders organize for success. They delegate responsibility and authority to others within their organization. They define processes that multiply their efforts, and the efforts of those they lead. Ronald Reagan coined the phrase, “trust, but verify,” and strong leaders live by this maxim to ensure their organization is as efficient and scalable as possible.

V—Visualize. Where are we going? How will we get there? These are the two biggest questions leaders face. The leader’s ability to visualize the future, define and articulate the mission, and steer toward success will make or break their organization. Look too far into the future, and they may fail to see the short-term obstacles and challenges. Look too closely at the short-term obstacles, and they may steer their organization off-course and miss its ultimate objective. Visualization isn’t an independent activity. The strong leader makes time to help others take emotional ownership of the vision and connect it to what they do each day.

E—Encourage and Execute. Ultimately, success is all about execution. A strong leader knows that nothing happens without the people he’s leading. Encouraging others to give their maximum effort in pursuit of the organization’s vision and goals is the primary role of the leader. Encouragement comes from the leader’s words and actions. People will watch and listen to see if their leader’s values and moral compass are something they can support. They will learn quickly whether their leader cares about their well-being, as well as that of the organization. A strong leader is sincere in defining what it will take to succeed, and excels at encouraging their team to make it a reality.

It’s no coincidence that these letters spell out love. It’s the attitude a strong leader brings to their work each and every day.

Shameless plug: If you want to improve your leadership game, check out my new book, Leadership Starts (and Ends) in Your Head…the rest is detail.

Happiness, by Comparison

How much time he gains who does not look to see what his neighbour says or does or thinks, but only at what he does himself, to make it just and holy. –Marcus Aurelius

Comparison is the death of joy. –Mark Twain

A thought experiment for your consideration:

You’re in Vegas, playing a Wheel of Fortune slot machine. You “invest” $20 in the machine, and on your third play, you hear the words, “Wheel. Of. Fortune!” You hit the spin button (with your elbow, of course, for good luck). The $500 bonus comes up! High fives all around! You decide to cash out.

While you tell your buddies about your big win, another patron sits at your machine. She plays a few rounds, and suddenly, “Wheel. Of. Fortune!” comes up for her. Curious, you and your buddies watch to see what she gets. This time, the spin hits the progressive jackpot. She just won $1.4 million!

Are you still happy about your $500, or disappointed that you didn’t win the $1.4 million?

Let’s change the outcome a bit. Imagine her spin yields a bonus of only $50. Are you happier about your $500 than you were when she won $1.4 million?

Be honest.

In a world with billions of people, there’s always someone who:

wins more, runs faster, is taller, richer, prettier, better, loses more, runs slower, is shorter, uglier, or worse

than you.

How much time he gains who does not look to see what his neighbour says or does or thinks, but only at what he does himself, to make it just and holy. –Marcus Aurelius

Happiness often becomes a game of teeter-totter. Something we can only experience in comparison to someone else. It’s a process fueled by envy. Envy, which takes all the power we will give it. It simultaneously feeds on the joy of others and rips at the happiness of its host in the process.

Imagine if your happiness had nothing to do with what happens to someone else?

Here’s the good news. You get to try it anytime you want.

The Obstacles You Think You Know…Don’t Matter

Polynomials suck, but they aren’t the obstacle that matters most…

I used to hear one question a lot when I was a kid.

Whether an adult was asking me, or another kid my age, it was always the same:

What are you going to be when you grow up?

In second grade, I knew I wanted to be a doctor. My friend wanted to be a fireman. Another friend wanted to be a professional skateboarder.

By high school, I was still thinking doctor, or maybe veterinarian. One of my friends planned to be an engineer, another wanted to teach, and one planned to go to the Air Force Academy and become a fighter pilot (he just retired from the Air Force a few years ago).

In my senior year in high school I ran into Algebra 2. More specifically, factoring polynomials. FOIL method. Up to that point, math had made sense. Plug the numbers into the formulas, and get your answer. X equals 11, Y equals 9. Pythagorean Theorem? Piece of cake. Word problems? Easy.

But, polynomials made no sense. The magic of the FOIL method didn’t help. First, Outside, Inside, Last? Solving for multiple variables that cancel each other out in some mysterious way? Arriving at an answer that looks as cryptic as the original question? What does a polynomial look like if you draw one? When will we ever use this in real life? I’d say it was all Greek to me, but I didn’t know Greek either, or Latin.

I hadn’t even reached Calculus (the math all the other brainiacs were taking in their senior year), and I’d hit a wall.

Polynomial Example

I could see the handwriting on the chalkboard (teachers used to write on them before whiteboards were invented). To become a doctor would require a science degree of some kind. That science degree would require a ton of math well beyond polynomials…maybe even Calculus. What comes after Calculus?! And, what about Latin? Doctors all seemed to use Latin. How would I learn that? It wasn’t even offered at my high school. And, what about getting into medical school? Did I have eight years to give up? How would I pay for all of it? This was going to be hard!

We each have a strategic thinking instinct. The ability to prioritize, make deductions, create connections, and map out a direction. Or, multiple directions.

Unfortunately, more often than not, we either ignore our strategic thinking capability, or we use it to map out why something is impossible. We visualize all the obstacles while ignoring the path around, over, or through them. We neatly stack all the obstacles into an impenetrable wall, rather than a series of hurdles to be taken one-at-a-time.

My doctor plans went down in flames…but, I was the one pointing the metaphorical plane into the ground.

Could I have found a way to understand polynomials? Yes. Could I have dealt with Calculus? Yes. What about Latin? Yes. What about getting into medical school? Yes. Did I have what it took to become a doctor? Probably (we will never know).

Did I allow myself to realize any of this at the time? No. I was too busy jumping toward another goal that had fewer obstacles, or so I thought. One that didn’t require Calculus. One that I could get my head around, and see more clearly.

I now understand something I didn’t back when I was a high school senior. I’m not sure I understood it by the time I was a college senior either. Our biggest obstacle, the one that matters more than any of the obstacles we can see, the obstacle that trumps all others, is staring back at us in the mirror. Find your way around, over, or through yourself, and you are well on your way to overcoming almost any other obstacle in your path…maybe even polynomials.

Want the answer to the crazy equation? This might (or might not) be it

Photo Credits: Here and Here

The Trouble with Gauges

Successful flying is much more than air speed…

One might argue that air speed is the most important factor in flying. Not enough and you fall from the sky. Too much, and your plane suffers catastrophic damage (and may fall from the sky).

I searched for at least three minutes (that’s a long time to be on a wild-Google-chase) to find an image of a simple cockpit instrument panel. Notice anything? Even this simple panel has a lot more than an air speed indicator.

In addition to air speed, the pilot can see engine rpm, oil temperature, water temperature, cylinder head temperature, fuel level, battery voltage, whether or not the plane is flying level, and the all-important altitude.

Successful flying is much more than air speed. Otherwise, there’d only be one gauge.

Flying is much more than monitoring gauges. Otherwise, what’s the point of windows?

Do you measure your life with one gauge, or a cluster of gauges?

Which gauge do you look at most? Is it the right one?

Have you noticed where you’re heading, or are you too busy looking at your gauges?

Photo Credit: World of Aircraft Design

Taking Time to Grieve

Grieving is unavoidable, no matter how busy or tough we think we are.

When someone we love dies, we often hear about the grieving process. We hear that we should take time to grieve. It’s something we can’t skip.

Grieving is unavoidable, no matter how busy or tough we think we are.

I remember when my Grandma Anne died (over twenty years ago). My cousin, Devin, told me about DAWA, the four stages of the grieving process that he’d learned as a policeman:

Denial—we deny that the person has died, or that this is really happening. We may also deny that it’s impacting us emotionally, or deny that we even understand the mix of emotions that are welling-up inside of us.

Anger—we realize this is real. We wonder what we could have done differently. We wonder how something like this could have happened. We may question the justice in the universe, or how God could allow this. Bargaining phrases like, “if only…” come into our mind.

Withdrawal—sometimes the only way to cope with the reality of our loss, and the emotions we can’t control, is to withdraw. This may be within ourselves, or to some place where we can be alone. Denial is giving way to reality. Anger is turning to sadness. We look within ourselves for the strength to overcome our sadness.

Acceptance—we begin to get our head wrapped around what is happening. We start to make peace with this new reality. Acceptance doesn’t mean we’re “over it,” or that there isn’t an irreparable rip in the fabric of our soul. It means we start to understand how to go forward with our life.

It’s easy to list these stages and assume grief is a simple process with a beginning, middle, and end. It doesn’t work that way. Some people never get through all the stages, or, they may cycle through one or more of the stages numerous times. It’s a process without a true endpoint…only the hope of eventual acceptance.

The grieving process applies to more than our loved ones passing away. It can apply to losing just about anything else we love (whether we realize it or not).

Maybe it’s a friend who we don’t get to see anymore, a hobby we can no longer participate in, moving into a new house (and leaving the old one behind), graduating from college and saying goodbye to our friends, losing that job we thought we’d have for many years to come.

It doesn’t matter if we’re the ones driving the change in our life, or if the change is thrust upon us without warning. It doesn’t matter if our loss is a stepping stone that leads us to something even greater (which is often the case).

The loss is real.

And, so is the grieving process.

The Next Version

The first version may dramatically change, or create new markets. But, it can’t stop there.

Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly. ~English Proverb

There’s always a next version. The latest update. The new and improved model. That is, if you sell a product (or service) and hope to remain relevant.

The first version may dramatically change, or create new markets. But, it can’t stop there.

When Microsoft came out with its first version of MS-DOS (Microsoft disc operating system for those of you born after 1983 or so), they didn’t stop developing what they had. There was always a new version just around the corner, and then all the versions of Windows after that.

Consider how quickly Apple’s iPod improved, shrank, morphed, and spawned new products and categories (like the iPhone). The first iPhone was awesome and changed everything. But, Apple didn’t stop there. They couldn’t.

Dr. Athey (one of my favorite professors) used to talk about the “ratchet effect” in technology. With each successive improvement in speed, features, or capability, the expectation level is ratcheted-up, at least one notch. Each improvement creates a new floor. A platform for the next leap.

Stop improving, stop inventing, stop pushing, stop creating, stop leaping, and guess what. Your product begins to wither and die. What was once amazing becomes the norm. The markets you created start to shrink.

The same ratchet effect applies to each of us.

I will never forget a conversation I had with Grandpa Clyde. He was about 90 years old at the time. He had just started using email, and asked me how he could send an email to more than one recipient. I gave him some email pointers, but I got a whole lot more in return. His questions demonstrated a key secret to a happy life: Continuous exploration…seeking the next version.

What are you curious about? What scares you? What seems impossible? These are the first things to explore. Choose to take your first step. Once you take the first step, the next one is easier.

What features will be in your next version?

Photo Credit: ARS Technica

-Bagger Vance

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly. ~English Proverb

Share this: