Category: Surprises

“I’m bored!”

Our little crew had a solid plan every day…

“Thems was fightin’ words” in our house when I was a kid.  If mom ever heard us utter those two words, she had a list of things for us to do.  We learned quickly to find things to do for ourselves, since mom’s list was definitely not a fun list (toilets, folding clothes, raking leaves, etc.).

I remember one summer, probably the one between 7th and 8th grade.  Our little crew had a solid plan every day.  It usually involved taking a mid-day “break” to watch Get Smart at Denis’ house.  I’m pretty sure they ran two episodes, back-to-back.  So, that took care of about an hour of entertainment.  The rest is a blur of football games, hide-and-seek, swimming at Marty’s, riding bikes, and just about anything else that would keep us from having to say, “I’m bored.”

I suppose it’s all those years of training, followed by “advanced” training in college, and then even more in the work environment.

Stay busy.

Keep moving.

There’s always something to be done.

Don’t be lazy.

If you aren’t busy, you better at least look busy.

Where’s your work ethic?

Aren’t you dedicated to this cause?

Focus on the task at hand!

Don’t be boring (even worse than being bored)!

Somewhere along the way, a lack of movement, or a completed task list, started to equate with the dreaded “b” word.  Somehow, a lack of movement turned into an example of laziness.

Is it even possible to do nothing and be at peace with it?  Or, do we have to tell ourselves that this momentary lack of movement is just a quick break before returning to another of life’s endless tasks?

When did doing nothing go from being a peaceful state to one of guilty boredom…or worse, an example of our laziness?  When did life become a task list?

The next time I’m faced with the challenge of doing absolutely nothing, I hereby promise myself that I won’t be bored (or guilty about my laziness).

I will enjoy the peace of that moment with gratitude.

What’s next? (just kidding)

 

Note to Self

I will do these things as a promise to myself…

Maybe it’s all the close calls, existential threats, newly-invented liabilities, newly-minted regulations, new competitors, old competitors, angry customers, happy customers, former customers, new customers, potential opportunities, new ideas, new methods, better mouse traps, and everything else that comes our way in business (no matter the size).

Maybe it’s the fight-or-flight instinct that gets honed to a fine edge through years of experience.  Knowing when to hold ‘em, and when to fold ‘em…but always allowing room for doubt.  Knowing when the silent customer is more important than the loudest one.  Knowing that the employee you don’t see is just as important as the one you do see.  Knowing we always have a competitor, whether we realize it or not.

Maybe it’s that standard defensive posture that every business assumes at times, even when it knows that only a strong offense will win the day.  Understanding that this isn’t a game we get to win every day.

Maybe it’s just fear of failure, or more likely, fear of success.

Whatever it is that stops me from getting the most enjoyment from this business…now is the time to let it go.

Life is way too short to let the small stuff get in the way.

Here’s my promise to myself:

  • I will go on offense, every day
  • I will acknowledge my fears, but only if it helps create a stronger offense
  • I will focus on the next step forward, and let the past remain there
  • I will create opportunities for those around me
  • I will love and serve
  • I will let go
  • I will enjoy each day as the gift that it is.

I will do these things as a promise to myself, knowing that I’m not the One who is in control.

The Puzzles We Build

In our house, whenever we started a puzzle, it was an “all-hands-on-deck” affair…

 

jigsaw-puzzle_pieces

When was the last time you assembled a puzzle?

Did you do it yourself, or did you have help?

How long did it take to assemble?  Minutes?  Hours?  Days?

In our house, whenever we started a puzzle, it was an “all-hands-on-deck” affair.  We’d all start working it.  Some of us would focus on organizing the pieces to make them visible.  Others would dive right in and start putting pieces together.

I worked the edges.  It’s the only thing that helped me get my bearings on the puzzle.  Start with the flat sides and establish a border…then work into the middle.  Working from the middle, out, was way too random for me.

“Hey, does anyone want some hot chocolate?” always seemed like a good question for me to ask after about a half-hour of diligent work.  With marshmallows.  Without looking up, I’d get some slow yesses and a few grunts.  By the time I came back with the hot chocolate, I was always amazed at the progress.

I’d get back to working the edges.

Each of us had our specialty and our own pace.  Some of us were easily distracted (me).  My wife would stay focused for hours…one piece at a time.

“Hey, who’s up for a break from the puzzle?  Maybe we can hit it again in a couple of hours with fresh eyes.”  I was always a proponent of fresh eyes.

But, then we’d get most of the edges completed.  I’d get my own personal rhythm, and I could start to see the patterns.  The puzzle started to take shape.  First, in my mind and then on the table.  My perspective on the puzzle and my ability to add value to it changed as the image emerged from all the pieces.

I don’t know if my wife and daughters (or anyone else who’d stop by and get sucked into the assembly project) went through the same evolution in their perspective as I did.

Our latest puzzle is a new business (actually, an existing business that we recently purchased).  Once again, our family is building a puzzle together.  This time, it’s not at the dining room table with a clear picture of the final product.  In fact, new pieces are being added to this puzzle all the time.

Once again, we’re each approaching the puzzle in our own way.  Center-out.  Edges-in.

Distractions?  Definitely.

Is an image beginning to emerge?  Yes.

The best (and most challenging) aspect of this puzzle is that it’s never finished.  It grows and evolves.  It occasionally leaves us feeling a bit perplexed.  But, it also takes beautiful shape before our eyes as we continue to build, one piece at a time.

Anyone up for some hot chocolate?  We’re gonna be here a while!

 

 

Microwaves and Slow Cookers

Ever burn popcorn in the microwave? If so, you know how quickly it can happen…

I recently heard someone make reference to their art not being microwaved.  Their art is the kind that comes from a slow-cooker.

An interesting concept.

The food (or drink) that we place in a microwave is already mostly prepared.  We aren’t interested in the process.  We just want it to be hot, and we’ve relied on someone else to handle the actual work of preparation.

With the slow cooker, it’s up to us.  We choose the ingredients.  We do the preparation.  Separately, the ingredients just sit there…waiting to be part of something.  But, blended properly, with the right amount of time and heat (energy), those separate ingredients (hopefully) combine to create something unique and tasty.

The microwave measures its cooking time in 30-second increments.  Hot dogs wrapped in a damp napkin take about a minute.  Popcorn takes three to four minutes.  Organic brown rice from Trader Joe’s takes four minutes.

Slow-cooking time is measured in hours.  Six hours is usually too short.  Eight to ten hours gets it right.

And, what about the accompaniments?  With a microwave cooking cycle, there’s only time to get your plate ready, find a clean fork, and maybe pour a glass of your favorite beverage.  Linear and task-focused.

Slow-cooking provides time for the cook to consider what goes best with the main dish.  What shall we have for dessert?  Would a loaf of fresh French bread go well with this stew?  The fullness of the dining experience is in play.

Neither method is perfect.

Ever burn popcorn in the microwave?  If so, you know how quickly it can happen.  Something so simple becomes a lump of smoking charcoal.

Slow-cooking disasters are equally possible.  Your reward for that ten-hour wait may be something that’s not even edible (at least for anyone who has taste buds).

Both methods have their place.  Both carry risk.

The question is how are you deciding which parts of your life to microwave, and which parts to slow-cook?

A tougher question might be:  Are you making the choice, or allowing someone else to make the choice for you?

Beware of the Edge

The edge is like the proverbial flame that draws the moth…

sitting-at-the-edge-of-a-cliff

I recently heard about a sign at the top of Mount Vesuvius.  It reads, “Beware of the edge.”

That’s the only safety precaution in the area.  No guardrails.  Just a sign.

I can hear it now:

“Your honor, I submit that my client had no idea he could plummet to his death by stepping over the edge of that volcano.  If only there’d been a guardrail to prevent his untimely death.”

Or,

“Your honor, we acknowledge that there was a sign that said, “Beware of the edge,” but my client must have thought he was safe as long as he stayed inside the guardrails.  Since there were no guardrails on the mountain, he was clearly misled into a false sense of safety and security…just before his fall.”

How many of us really need a sign, or a guardrail, to tell us to stay away from the edge?  Can’t we see the danger on our own, without the sign?

The truth is, probably not.

Why not?

Simple.  The edge is where the action is.  We know it’s dangerous.  We know our mind will play an imaginary leap that only our subconscious sees when we look over the edge.  We secretly like the butterflies we get in our stomach.

The edge brings sharp focus.  It’s where our imagination is most alive!

Sometimes, the edge represents the end of a long journey.  A challenging climb.  Our view over the edge reminds us of the distance we’ve traveled.  The work we’ve put in to get there.

The edge is like the proverbial flame that draws the moth.  The edge reminds us of how fragile our life is.  One step away from real danger.

How do we approach the edge, and take in its energy, while avoiding the danger that lurks just one step beyond?

It’s a question we each have to answer for ourselves.

But, here’s hoping we don’t discover the answer as we tumble over the edge.

Are You Willing?

All that matters is learning what you believe in…

“I know this now.  Every man gives his life for what he believes.  Every woman gives her life for what she believes.  Sometimes people believe in little or nothing, and yet they give their lives to that little or nothing.  One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it and then it’s gone.  But to surrender what you are and to live without belief is more terrible than dying—even more terrible than dying young.”  –Joan of Arc

Joan of Arc lived less than twenty years.  Yet she fought for her beliefs and made a huge impact on history.  She died for her beliefs at an age when many are just beginning their life’s journey.

She knew what she believed in.  She knew what it meant to sacrifice for her beliefs.  Ask anyone who serves or served in the military, a first responder who runs into a burning building to save others, or a newly formed priest who has answered God’s call.  These are just a few examples.  Each of them know what it means to sacrifice for their beliefs.

Sometimes our beliefs emerge quietly without our knowledge.  We go through life, making seemingly inconsequential decisions about what we will and won’t do.  We decide who our friends are, and how much we will let them into our lives.  We decide when to listen.  We decide how honest we will be with the world around us.

We establish habits for living our life, and we go on our merry way.

Do you know what you believe in?  Really?  Do you know what you believe to be true?  Do you know what is important in your life?

Have you made the quiet time in your life that’s necessary to consider these questions?

What if it turns out that the things you believe in aren’t manifested in the way you live?  Are you willing to change your habits?  Are you willing to eliminate the things that don’t support your beliefs?  Will you support your beliefs in the way you live, and the way you work with others?  Are you willing to make your beliefs the centerpiece of your actions in everything you do?

Joan of Arc was right.  One life is all we have, and then it’s gone.

Where are you in that one life?  Is it too late to examine your beliefs and change the way you live?

The answer is clear  But, it won’t become obvious until we make quiet time in our lives to reflect.  When we do, we find it’s never too late to examine our beliefs and change our life.

Every day is a new beginning if we choose to make it so.  It doesn’t matter what happened in the past.  It doesn’t matter who wronged you.  It doesn’t matter if you had a terrible childhood.  It doesn’t matter if you’ve missed opportunities in the past.  It certainly doesn’t matter if you failed in the past.

All that matters is learning what you believe in.  Then, deciding what to do with that new knowledge, starting today.

The only question is:  Are you willing to find out?

 

Beliefs and Values

h/t:  Matthew Kelly

Speed bumps and walls…

…have a few things in common. Both force us to pay attention, slow down, and (sometimes) change course…

speed-bump-warning-sign

…have a few things in common.  Both force us to pay attention, slow down, and (sometimes) change course.  In many ways, speed bumps are merely walls that are short enough to get over with minimal effort.

Unlike speed bumps, walls are there to stop us, contain us, to protect something we’re not supposed to see, or maybe provide protection to something we don’t want others to see.

Is that nasty cold you have a speed bump or a wall?

How about the job you had until last week?  Is losing that job a speed bump or a wall?

Is the macro-economic forecast for 2% or less in U.S. Gross Domestic Product growth a speed bump or a wall?

Is bad weather (however you define the term bad) a speed bump or wall?

The death of a loved one?  Speed bump or wall?

The diagnosis you received from your doctor that has you wondering how long you have to live this life you love.  Speed bump?  Wall?

Meeting the person of your dreams and falling in love.  Speed bump or wall?  Surprise!  Good news introduces speed bumps and walls, just like bad news.  Of course, good news can also knock down walls.

When the news first hits, it almost always looks like a wall.  Only after further reflection, maybe some quiet meditation, a hard workout(s), discussions with our friends and family, enjoying a bowl of our favorite ice cream, watching some sunrises and sunsets, or all of these, do the walls start to look shorter.

As the walls lose their height, they may disappear from sight, or take the shape of speed bumps that we can handle.

Some walls are high and stay that way.  If we can’t climb over, we learn to change direction and find a way around.

What if we can’t climb over, can’t change direction, and the high walls continue to surround us?  Should we give up?

No way!

We build our expansive life inside the new walls and never drop our quest to escape…even if we have to dismantle the walls one brick (or chisel strike) at a time.

Do you remember that guy who gave up?  Neither can anyone else.  –Author Forgotten

Where are You Aiming?

What if getting ready isn’t the first step?

“If you aim at nothing, you will hit it every time.”  -Zig Ziglar

Ready.  Aim.  Fire.

That’s the standard way to shoot at a target.  How many people actually follow these steps?

How many have you seen following other sequences:

Ready.  Fire.  Aim.

Fire.  Fire.  Fire.

Aim.  Aim.  Aim.  Aim.

Ready…  Ready…  Ready… (now what?)

Ready.  Aim.  Aim.  Aim.  Aim.  Aim.  Fire?  Fire?

Life is a series of choices.  A series of challenges.  A series of what if’s.

It’s impossible to know the true definition of “ready” in a life of endless possibility.  One can spend a lifetime “getting ready” for an outcome that may, or may not, happen.  The truth is, we are never fully ready.

What if getting ready isn’t the first step?  What if pursuing excellence is?

Excellence in whatever we do.  Excellence in the way we look at life.  Excellence in our contribution.  Excellence in the way we treat others.  Excellence in our expectations of ourselves and others.  When excellence is the target, the other steps become clear.

Pursue excellence.  Ready.  Aim.  Fire.  Adjust.  Pursue excellence.  Repeat.

Does excellence mean perfection?  No.  Pursuing perfection is a fool’s errand.  The good news is that by pursuing excellence we get a glimpse of perfection from time to time.

The target isn’t the real reward anyway.  That comes from the pursuit itself.

 

The End of the Beginning

I should mention one detail: I wasn’t Catholic…

sistine-chapel-ceiling

There I was, about to enjoy my Chipotle for lunch, listening to some financial news, when the commercial came on.  The Catholic Channel was covering the papal election over on channel 129.

That’s right, I thought.  They’re electing a new Pope today.  Funny, we had just visited Vatican City a few months before Pope Benedict announced his retirement.  What a beautiful place!  It was huge.  Michelangelo’s paintings in the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel were breathtaking.  The views of Rome from the top of the dome in St. Peter’s were spectacular.

What do they talk about on that channel when there isn’t a papal election, I wondered.  I switched over to 129.  My timing wasn’t bad.  The two hosts were all fired up.  A new Pope had been elected!  Their excitement was overwhelming.  “We have a new Vicar of Christ, and he’s about to make his first appearance,” one of them said.  They were waiting for him to come out and make his first appearance in the window above St. Peter’s Square.

As I sat there, listening to them talk about this new Vicar, I realized I had tears running down my face.  Tears of happiness.  “We” had a new Pope!  A new Holy Father to shepherd us in the Way of Christ.

I should mention one detail:  I wasn’t Catholic.

Why was I so excited about this new Pope?  Why was my heart filled with new joy and warmth at the thought of this new Pope and the energy he’d be bringing to the Church?

I drove back to work, wondering for a minute what this all meant.  I quickly turned my thoughts to something else.  I switched my radio over to The Blend, and acted like nothing had happened.

As I drove home from work later that day, I switched back to 129 to hear more about the new Pope.

I let almost a year go by without taking any action, or telling anyone about my new-found favorite station.

It’s not like the news that I had suddenly felt a spiritual (religious?) connection to the Catholic Church would be unwelcome in my family.  My wife and daughters are Catholic.  My daughters both graduated college with theology and philosophy degrees.  My in-laws are Catholic.  Many of our friends are Catholic.  I’ve been an active volunteer at our Church for years.  I had always been connected to the Catholic Church, but never had a spiritual connection.  I never truly believed.

Now, for the first time in my life, I believed.  An emptiness I didn’t know I had was suddenly filled.

I remember going to a weekend camp when I was about eight years old.  Big David (who was a few years older than Little David, who also lived on our street) invited me to attend his camp in the mountains.  That sounded pretty great to me, and I’m sure my parents were happy to have a weekend break from one of their rambunctious sons.

I didn’t know it at the time, but it was a Bible camp.  This would be my first introduction to anything religious, since my family wasn’t religious.  We arrived and were assigned to our cabins and counselors.  I don’t remember my counselor’s name, but I do remember one of the first questions he asked me.  “Bobby, have you accepted Jesus into your heart?”

Who was Jesus?  What does he mean to accept Him?  Why was I the only one he asked?  What is this place?  I spent an awkward weekend, being a volunteer kitchen helper (each cabin was in charge of service for one meal), listening to lectures from the Bible, and being asked at least once a day if I was ready to accept Jesus into my heart.  Needless to say, my first introduction to Jesus didn’t go well.

I had a few more introductions over the years, and finally was introduced more formally by my (soon-to-be, at the time) wife, Janet.  I learned a lot about the Catholic Church as I prepared to be married in one.  And yet, I still didn’t know who Jesus was.  I kept having the same questions I had when I was eight.  Besides, I had things pretty well figured out, and going to church was a lot of commitment.

It’s interesting to me that the number forty comes up a lot in the Bible.  Jesus spent forty days in the desert, fasting, and praying (and being tempted by Satan) after he was baptized.  Only then was he fully ready to begin his public ministry.  The Israelites spent forty years in the desert before they could return home.  Noah’s Ark was put to use after it rained for forty days and nights.  Moses spent forty days and forty nights on the mountain with God.  Jesus was with his disciples for forty days after his resurrection.

From my first (messy) introduction to Jesus until this past weekend when I was baptized into the Catholic Church, I count forty years, almost to the day.  I’m sure it’s a coincidence.  Just like my random decision to switch over to channel 129 that day.  Or, the way my daughter added some Christian music to my iPod.  Those songs kept coming up over and over each time I went for a run.  I got to know those songs pretty well.  So well that I actually started thinking about their meaning, even before that day our new Pope was elected.

My baptism, confirmation, and first communion last Saturday night were the culmination of an almost year-long preparation process.  The process included classes every Sunday, after Mass.  It also included a ton of reading that I assigned to myself.  Books about the Rosary, the Saints, Saint Paul the Apostle (the Saint I chose as my Confirmation Saint), and the Holy Land.  I also did lots of reading from the Bible itself, as well as the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

Funny thing is that throughout this process, I couldn’t wait for each Sunday to come.  I couldn’t wait to learn more about my faith, my Church’s history, and the love that Jesus has for each of us.  What was an unreasonable commitment to my younger self has become an integral part of who I am today.

After forty years, I’m coming to the end of the beginning of my relationship with God.

Looking back, I can see so many places where God was with me, even as I ignored Him, or spoke against Him.  He was patient.  He knew I’d eventually find Him right where He’s always been…beside me.

 

 

Finding Your Authentic Swing

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

BaggerVance

 

“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…

 

 

 

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