Own your struggles. They can be your strength.
Honor your scars. They can mark your progress.
Embrace your darkness. Squeeze from it your light.
Appreciate your failures. They are your teachers.
Cherish your hopes. They are your guiding stars.
When I was a graduate student at Yale, I quickly came to realize that everyone around me was very busy pretending to know more than they actually knew. And once you realized how the pretense worked, you could see that they were investing a lot of energy in the deception. Intellectual posturing, or posing, in service to pretending, was one of the main activities on campus - at least, among my fellow graduate students at the time. No one would ever say, in class, "I'm not sure what you mean. Could you say more about that?" No brave soul would ask for a repetition or an elucidation or an explanation. Everyone made it seem as if he, or she, understood everything perfectly, on a first hearing, or even before. There was an enveloping fear of asking questions and thus revealing a weakness or gap in knowledge or understanding, which, of course, merely perpetuated every such weakness or gap there was.
And I came to realize, quickly, that one of the best things anyone concerned with excellence can do is to ask questions. It sometimes takes courage. It can be a heroic act of bravery in certain situations. But questions are breadcrumbs to truth and real understanding.
The most important thing I learned at Yale was to ask questions when everyone else was afraid to do so. And that's when I started to learn lots more.
So, ask. And ask again. Boldly, bravely ask, without a care as to what others think of you for asking, and thereby improve what you're able to think.
Today.
When I was young
I thought I could fly.
If I ran just right,
I’d rise into the sky
and go over the yard and
the house and the trees
until, floating a bit
I’d catch a good breeze
and neighbors would see
and squint into the sun
and say “Come here and look
at what this kid has done!”
I'd continue to rise
and with such a big smile that
my grin could be viewed
at least for a mile.
And even today,
I think, if I try,
the time may yet come
when I'll rise up and fly.
Right before I left Notre Dame, twenty years ago, a lady in her fifties whose husband was an administrator said to me one day. "I always have two friends, one much older, one much younger. The older friend shows me the way forward. The younger friend helps me get there."
I've always thought this is amazingly wise. It captures so many truths about age and friendship and personal success, about mentoring and being mentored, about about inspiration in its different forms.
Youth at its best has energy, possibility, enthusiasm, action, openness, hope, and ambition, among other virtues. Age at its best has experience, discernment, perspective, wisdom, and a hard earned form of wonder, and even, at times, a deeper joy and gratitude. Youth is rambunctious. Age is measured. Youth is unfettered. Age is guided. Youth embraces. Age understands. And on it goes.
The balance my friend alluded to becomes increasingly important with adulthood, but is always a help. Do you have someone to show you the way forward? Do you have someone to give you the energy to get there?
I hope you have two friends, one much older, one much younger. And if not right now, I wish it for you.
We all need someone to show us the way forward, and someone to give us the energy to get there.
My workout partner today told me that he's been surprised to find out how fit he's gotten, and that at the age of 51, he's in the best shape of his life. Paddling his surf board out to a nearby island the other day, he said he wasn't even winded and could have gone back and forth, unlike in past years when one trip out there would leave him exhausted. He keeps track of the miles he runs each day, whether exercising his young Border Collie, or on the treadmill in the gym before we lift weights. This new level of aerobic fitness was to him a surprising side effect of all the stuff he's been doing.
As we worked out today, we reflected on the nature of side effects. All activities have their intended reasons, and often they also have unexpected side effects, especially when it comes to habits, or repeated patterns of action. The question we should be asking ourselves is whether the side effects of our actions are likely to be beneficial or damaging.
Prudent actions, rational actions, or to use a more modern concept, healthy actions are those that take place in the golden zone of beneficial results, whether intended or unintended. We should always be examining our habits and asking whether they're firmly within that golden zone or not.
Golden zone actions lead to good results, and sometimes to great surprises.
May we all stay healthy and golden.
First, I want to recommend to everyone Norman Lear's great new autobiography, Even This I Get to Experience, which is not just about one extremely successful life, but is about so much more in addition - family, childhood, choices, struggles, the rise of modern television, Hollywood, movies, politics, and what it means to be an American, in a time when most have forgotten.
I met Norman when I was 39 and he was 69. I was still a professor at Notre Dame, focusing on philosophy of religion, and he was doing a new TV comedy that would broach religious issues, a show called Sunday Dinner. I watched the first episode and dialed the Los Angeles Operator and asked for Act III Communications, the name of the production company I'd seen in the credits at the end of the show. She said, "There are about 16 numbers." I said, "Can you give me the first 3?" She did, and I left 3 voice mail messages about that first show.
A few days later, I came to my office after teaching Philosophy 101, and there were some voice mail messages on my phone. A student wanted to get into my class. My wife asked me to pick up milk and bread on my way home, and a voice said, "Tom! This is Norman Lear! Here's my home phone number. Call me!" And then he left the number.
This was the man who had created and produced All in the Family - the TV show that my family watched every week and argued about when I was growing up. Then he created Sanford and Sons, The Jeffersons, One Day at a Time, Good Times, Maude, Mary Hartman Mary Hartman, and Fernwood2night. The string of hits in the 1970s was unprecedented in television history. Then he brought such movies to the world as This Is Spinal Tap, Stand By Me, The Princess Bride and Fried Green Tomatoes. I called him, and we had a great time talking. Soon, we were sending each other books and videos and I was at his vacation house in Vermont, a farm once owned by Robert Frost, and then the abstract artist Kenneth Noland, before Lear bought it. Then he came to see me speak in Las Vegas and Montecito, and I visited his home in LA. Over the days and months and years, we talked about possible TV shows and books and talks and ideas for making the world a better place.
And, even though he told me lots of stories about his life, I never knew how many failures he had on his way to success, and even after his biggest achievements. He had many. He lived through daunting struggles, nearly overwhelming challenges, and the disappointments we all face. And they never stopped him, or even really slowed him down.
But the thing about this new book that surprised me the most is how often in his life serendipity, or amazing good luck, seemed to smile on him. Astounding coincidences of timing would lead to many of the most wonderful things in his life. I've written all through the book's margins expressions like "Kismet! Timing!" And I asked myself: How could one man be so lucky?
And when I thought about it more, I realized that it was always his decisions to keep moving, to try things, to meet people, to be open to something new, to visit someone, to make a call, and to always do whatever task was in front of his with total passion and excellence that put him in the position for extraordinary luck to strike. Nothing was too small for him to approach it inventively. Nothing was too big for him to decide to give it a try. It was his day to day decisions that put him in the path of serendipity.
Our ordinary decisions position us for the extraordinary to occur. Or they make it impossible for luck to find us at all.
What are you doing to invite serendipity into your life? I called Norman Lear's production company out of the blue one day, many years ago, and now I'm 62 and he's 92 and we still talk now and then, and I get inspired by his continued energy and intellect. Go read his book and experience your own inspiration! Amazing things await.
When times are good, there's often a wonderful but dangerous illusion that things will never change. When times are bad, there's often a cruel and equally dangerous illusion that things will never change.
But things do change. And that can be either a shock or a relief, a source of grief or of joy.
In his recently published memoir, Even This I Get to Experience, my old friend Norman Lear recalls that on his sixtieth birthday, his daughter Kate in a toast described him as someone who "walks through life's peaks and valleys with equal wonder." What a rare and tremendous thing to say, and, really, what an amazing attribute to have.
There are peaks and valleys, aren't there? And the journey we're on now has to involve them both. Try to embrace each with equal wonder and a readiness for whatever comes next.
We live amid mysteries and, in the end, it's all a wonder.
On Sunday, in Wilmington, NC, it was a gloriously beautiful sunny day, and our hearts were breaking, tears flowing down all the human faces in the house.
Our old dog had experienced a very difficult month of rapidly deteriorating health, and the past week had been the worst - with at least a couple of serious diseases in advanced stages, plus a bad form of cancer, she was barking pitifully on and off throughout the night, just feet from our bed. The medications that were supposed to help her no longer could. Our other two dogs, much younger, stayed busy trying to comfort her and lick her wounds. The cat was just perplexed, but hovered and stayed close, as if wanting to help.
As the new dawn had come, the old girl refused her favorite food, as she had, for the first time ever, just the day before. And then, when she somehow made it out the door and into the backyard, barely able to walk on swollen and weakened legs, she did something very unusual for her. She snuck off alone to a part of the property that's more heavily wooded and lay down near the perimeter fence, looking out. This extremely social animal wanted solitude. This house dog wanted to hide in nature. She yearned for something beyond the confines of what she had.
I first saw her there from a distance, lying down, and looking through the fence. The broad yard and large fenced in area that had so long protected her and given her a place to frolic and play were now not where she wanted to be. She looked out through the fence as if she wanted to go beyond it, far outside it, and she seemed, at the same time, to be in a similar way looking beyond her failing physical body, wanting and needing to get outside it, as well. The physique that had made her tough and agile and great fun was now her great impediment. And she knew it. She needed release. So she lay there and looked through the fence as if, somewhere out there, somewhere beyond all that she had known, and had physically been, was the freedom from pain and growing restriction that she needed in order to continue to be herself.
The previous day, my wife and I had been at a graveside service for an elderly aunt who had lived a long and vibrant life before she began to suffer severe dementia, a fate that took her away in bits and pieces for ten years before her heart gave up. Her death freed her from a prison that had seemed to obliterate the person she was. The old animal at our house seemed to be aching for a similar liberation of the soul.
The dogs in our family somehow tend to end up with multiple names. This one, a female rescued eleven and a half years ago, at the age of one, was at New Hanover County Animal Control, on the day she was originally scheduled to leave this world, when our daughter woke up and had the urge to go there, and adopted her, hours from what would have been her leave taking from this life. Her name was Lexie, and that's what we called her, when we weren't calling her Boo, or DevilDog, or Debolt, or Dibs - all names that arose under certain appropriate circumstances. She was an entertainer. She was a bull of a dog. If you ever told her "No" in a serious voice, she would bark wildly and back away from you as if her life were on the line, no matter how gentle your correction might had been. And in the midst of the Mad Dog routine, all you had to do was say "Good dog" in an overly friendly voice, and she would instantly change back, wagging her tail and approaching for a hug.
And then the day clearly arrived. We cried all day, on and off. But we also talked of her being with her old sisters that she had grown up beside, other mixed breed rescue dogs that had been ours and had gone on years ago, far too young. We hoped they would soon greet her and introduce her to the other Morris dogs that they had known, and they, also, in turn. We have quite a pack awaiting our own arrival on the next shore.
And so, we worked to convince ourselves, what seems so sad could actually be gloriously good for the old girl and her former companions. May it be true. For them, and for all of us, their grieving owners, and great, forever friends.
The old girl at the vet, finally at rest, one minute after her spirit's departure, and a minute before I kissed her head one last time.
The opportunistic cat himself, Mr. Odes. Check out the heart on his nose.
I know one opportunistic cat. His name is Odie. Whenever he sees a new open box or drawer, or a platter left out in the kitchen, he'll find a way to get into it or onto it. Sometimes, it's amazing what he can do. We'll see where he's perched himself, and look around for the means he must have used and find ourselves saying "How did he do that?" But, do it, he does.
Odie is an ongoing lesson to me about the opportunistic mentality. He already has certain CATegories in mind (sorry) - a box, drawer, bucket, laundry basket, or basket of any kind, or a large bowl or anything that can contain him for a momentary repose. And whenever one of these things appears, his focus on getting to it and into it, or onto it, is so intense and unwavering that he inevitably finds a way. He always finds a way, even where there doesn't seem to be one.
I was reorganizing three sock drawers the other day, and as soon as I had cleaned one out and turned around, I discovered to my great surprise that he had managed to find a way that I could not at all retrace, into the open drawer. That's the power of a clear goal and a focused concentration on what it may take to attain the goal. That's the opportunistic mindset at work.
What's your goal now? How opportunistic are you being about it. The opportunistic mindset is often a CATalist to success. Yeah, I couldn't resist it, either.
"A talent can be cultivated in tranquility; a character only in the rushing stream of life." Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe.
I remember as a boy of twelve sitting alone at home practicing holding my fingers in the right positions on the fretboard of a classical guitar. The house was quiet and my soul was filled with the difficult efforts I was making.
Many talents can indeed be cultivated in solitude and in tranquility. But character requires more.
What we do in solitude and tranquility can contribute to our character, certainly, and powerfully, but most of its formation is due to how we respond to and grow from the rough and tumble of life. What Goethe called "the rushing stream" will carry us in one direction or the other.
I understand character as just the sum total of the inner strengths and weaknesses that we bring to any challenging situation. And these strengths and weaknesses result from many forces - heredity, upbringing, association, and mostly choice. How we choose to react to people and events over time will slowly form our character, for better or worse. And then it's that character which will empower or diminish us as we move forward to new challenges.
Long ago, the philosopher Heraclitus said, "Character is destiny." And that about sums it up. It's hard to rise above who you most inwardly are. Those of us who would accomplish great things should work to establish great foundations within. And, in the end, it's all about how we react to the good things and the bad things, to the opportunities, achievements, challenges, and disappointments that come our way today, and tomorrow.
Whenever I react to a situation in a way that I later regret, I try to pay attention to what led me to do that, and I work to avoid responding that way again. The more honest we can be with ourselves in evaluating our actions, the better we're prepared to cultivate character with strength.
To judge someone else's character, pay the most attention to how they act in "the rushing stream of life."
"Don't be afraid to take a big step if one is indicated. You can't cross a chasm in two small jumps." David Lloyd George.
This is a nice image that I've long loved. You can't cross a broad chasm in two small jumps. Sometimes, you have to take a huge step, and sometimes a giant leap.
If you're normally a small stepper, that can be hard. But some things can't be accomplished any other way.
There are some big leaps in life that don't make sense. And there are others that do.
How can we know the difference? Discernment. Wisdom. Intuition. Listening.
What are your values? What do you love? What matters to you?
What do your dreams tell you? What is your heart saying?
If you're led to the edge of something new, and it's something very good, and a leap needs to be made, and your heart is nudging you forward, then leap!
Anyone reading this blog post may have heard me speak at some point on what the great philosophers said it takes for success in whatever we do. My claim is simple.
From Plato and Aristotle to the present day, the wisest people who have ever thought about success and excellence have left us bits and pieces of powerful advice for attaining true success in our lives. I've put them all together as this framework of seven universal conditions. For the most deeply satisfying and sustainable forms of success in our lives, we need to bring into any situation, relationship, or enterprise:
(C1) A clear CONCEPTION of what we want, a vivid vision, a goal clearly imagined.
(C2) A strong CONFIDENCE that we can attain that goal.
(C3) A focused CONCENTRATION on what it takes to reach the goal.
(C4) A stubborn CONSISTENCY in pursuing our vision.
(C5) An emotional COMMITMENT to the importance of what we're doing.
(C6) A good CHARACTER to guide us and keep us on a proper course.
(C7) A CAPACITY TO ENJOY the process along the way.
I was talking to a friend yesterday, and he mentioned Stephen Covey's Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, quoting one of the habits, "Begin with the end in mind." I thought it might be helpful to reflect briefly on the difference between Covey's framework and mine.
I once directed a weekend retreat with Covey and found him to be a sweet and kind person, as well as very thoughtful. I had great fun with him. And I admire the results of his work. But, that being said, on to the comparison. First, I'll just list his seven habits, as he does, in the form of recommendations or imperatives:
Habit 1: Be proactive.
Habit 2: Begin with the end in view.
Habit 3: Put first things first.
Habit 4: Think Win/Win
Habit 5: Seek first to understand, then to be understood.
Habit 6: Synergize
Habit 7: Sharpen the saw.
A few comments. Habit (1) is about taking initiative, always good, and included in the application of my C3 - the focused concentration condition.
Habit (2) is a brief version of my C1 (the first condition of the 7Cs), the condition that tells us that as we begin to work toward any goal, we need a clear conception of what we want to result from our activity, and that we need to make our conception vivid and rooted in the imagination, aspects of goal setting that Covey doesn't explicitly address in his framework.
Habit (3), like (1), is included in my understanding of C3, the focused concentration condition, as developed in True Success.
Habits (4), (5), and (6) come into play in relationships, in negotiations, and in work situations of joint endeavor, but not always in the successful meeting of individual, personal challenges. They are very good advice for the circumstances in which they apply, and are, in those circumstances, applications of C3, concentrating on what it takes, or C4, the consistency condition, or C6, the character condition, but they are not themselves, in my understanding, strictly universal conditions for success. Some things can be, and sometimes must be, properly done by one person alone, and for some of these private matters, a strategy of synergism need not necessarily play a role. And where not more than one person is involved, the most basic requirements for win/win thinking may not even arise. Obviously, there can't be two winners except where there are at least two players.
Habit (7) has to do with personal renewal, growth, continuing education and skill development, which is always a good idea. But, again, there are some forms of personal challenge, relationship goals, and even professional demands where, in meeting the demand, or accomplishing the goal, it does not necessarily come into play. A very commendable activity, even one necessary for a full life, does not necessarily count as one of the fundamental conditions I'm focusing in on as crucial for all forms of success. Where it does come into play, it falls under my C3.
Even more noteworthy, my conditions C2 (Confidence), C4 (Consistency), C5 (Commitment), and C7 (the Capacity to Enjoy the Process) are nowhere explicitly captured in this framework. I say this not to claim that Covey's important schema is incomplete in any way, but just to point out that it's different in design and intent from my framework of seven conditions. Although there are important fundamental similarities and overlaps, The 7Cs of Success, as a framework or tool kit of ideas, is significantly different from The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.
For more on the 7 Cs, see True Success, The Art of Achievement, and the big new ebook, The 7 Cs of Success, which reveals how these tools were understood by some of the greatest practical philosophers throughout the centuries and around the world. For Covey's original book, click here, The Seven Habits of Highly Successful People.
"Luck is something that happens at the right time." Tony Bennett, Esquire, November, 2014.
Hey, I can't just quote Plato and Aristotle.
There's a phrase in the New Testament: "When the time had fully come ..."
Luck is something that happens at the right time. Serendipity is something that happens at the right time. Coincidence. Fortuity. Kismet. Destiny. Miracle.
Providence ... is something that happens at ... well, you get the idea.
When, in your life, has something happened at just the right time? If you're doing anything now that will succeed only if the right conditions develop, remember that, in order to provide for what you most hope to see or do, things need to happen at the right time.
Await that time. Pursue that time. Be diligent. And, meanwhile, be patient. And prepared. Be ready.
Your time will come.
And like Tony Bennett's time, it may stay around for a while.
"The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom; for we never know what is enough until we know what is more than enough." William Blake.
Often, what Blake said is true. But he should have been a bit more careful in how he said it. His statement is a bit ... excessive.
The Oracle at Delphi, the holiest spot in ancient Greece, had two commands for wise living inscribed in marble to greet all visitors.
The first command was "Know Yourself." The second was "Nothing in Excess."
I long thought these were just two important but unrelated recommendations. But now I understand more deeply. You can't really know yourself unless you know what counts as excessive for you, in any area. And you can't know what's excessive for you unless you know yourself. These are deeply intertwined imperatives.
I wish William Blake had been more cautious in his often quoted statement about excess. The road of excess doesn't always lead to the palace of wisdom, but it can. It can also lead to the mortuary, or to a dark cave of chronic stress, or else to what my mother, and many mothers of her generation used to call "the poor house." It can lead to the edge of a cliff or to another unexpected dead end. It enlightens only those who are sufficiently aware that they have crossed a line, and need to back up.
We indeed never know our limits until we attempt to pass beyond them. And, to the wise, the experience is enough to give rise to a sense of what is ... enough. One year, I gave talks in 93 cities. That, I found out, was for me far too much. And I cut back on my schedule right away. The decision was a wise one, and brought me immense benefits.
Experience can be a great teacher, if we're alert students.
Is there any excess in your life right now? Be honest about it. Come on, really.
Ask yourself whether there is anything you need to do to back up a little and correct course.
Today.
"Greatness is a spiritual condition." Matthew Arnold.
Matthew Arnold was an insightful student of philosophy, literature, and theology in the nineteenth century. Some of his essays are of timeless value. He saw deeply into the nature of greatness of every kind. The outer is always a result of the inner. Physical greatness, intellectual greatness, or greatness of any kind is ultimately a matter of the spirit. Greatness in any form is a spiritual condition. To think otherwise is to misunderstand the fount of all sustainable excellence.
How is the spirit of your enterprise? Of your company? Of your family? How is your own spirit? If you don't tend the inner garden, the outer fruit will not grow and ripen.
Set aside some time to examine the spiritual state of your life and work. And identify one thing that you can do for your own spiritual health. Then begin to do it.
Today.
"When your will is ready, your feet are light." George Herbert.
No job is harder than the one you don’t want to do. And no job is easier than one you love. Skill building is important in any profession. But will building is the key. John Ruskin once said, “When love and skill work together, expect a masterpiece.”
How do you prepare your will, what the philosophers called “volition,” for the job at hand? How can you move the will to love what you're doing?
The answer is simple. You do whatever you can to match yourself to a task that's right for you. And then you use your imagination. You envision its ultimate good. You put it into perspective, within the context of what you already love and care most deeply about. Only the heart can move the will in the deepest and most enduring ways. So prepare for your work by using your imagination to tend to your heart. Use the imagination well, and the heart will follow. And then, eventually, it will lead.
We can always find a reason for not liking, or not doing, a task we need to do. We can build up resentment, irritation, frustration, and even hatred by how we think. Or we can mentally put ourselves into a totally different state of being and doing. Its finally up to each of us. If you feel good about your work, it will feel much easier to you. Remind yourself of this simple truth when things seem tough, and pass on the insight to anyone you see struggling along.
Today.
"By the work, you know the workman." Jean de La Fountaine.
Cause and effect. A great guitarist plays a great solo. A master mechanic gets a car to purr. An original thinker writes original books. A salesperson who cares shows that care in her preparations, and serves her client like no one else.
The old view was that this is a matter of pride. Our jobs never define us. But the quality of the work we do will disclose us, reveal us, and give us away. It will also not just show who we are today, but in great part determine who we'll be tomorrow.
Do we do our best? Do we strive for excellence every day?
The great philosophers would have us recognize that all our choices define who we are. We're known for the quality we bring to the world. Let's remember that and pour our hearts into everything we do.
Today.
And tomorrow.
I was with the top management of a company the other day, discussing how to have continued success in the midst of chaos and change. We were using my framework of The 7 Cs of Success to tackle the issues. One topic that came up was how to prioritize when too much is happening at once and apparent chaos prevails.
The first point worth mentioning is this: Chaos creates confusion. Clarity begins to establish control. As we discussed this idea, we dwelt a bit on the first of my seven conditions of success, the one saying that, in any challenge, we need:
C1: A clear CONCEPTION of what we want, a vivid vision, a goal clearly imagined.
How do we get clear goals? Where do they come from? I pointed out that we often think we have a goal when all we have is a fantasy, a figment of the imagination floating in and out of our conscious minds. And sometimes, we think we have a goal when we have something stronger than a fantasy, but it's merely a desire, an inclination of the appetites, as philosophers have said. A goal can be suggested by a fantasy or a desire, but it isn't the same as either of these other things. Then what is it? It's a commitment of the will.
A commitment is an interesting thing. It's a decision and a new path of action. It embodies focus, conviction, and determination. If you don't have new actions in your life, or in your business ventures, you don't yet have a new goal. You may think you do, but unless you've made specific, concrete commitments, you don't - at least, yet.
We often speak of goals and values. What, then, is a value? You may say, "I value my family" or "I value growth" or "We value customer service," but what does that mean? A value isn't just an affirmation or a mild belief that something is good. A value is also a commitment of the will. If you don't have a real commitment to something, you don't have that thing as a value. You may like your family a lot, you may enjoy growth immensely, or see the need for good customer service, but unless you're committed to these things, they aren't really values for you.
So a value is a commitment of the will. And a goal is a commitment of the will. Then, what's the difference? It's simple. A value is a general commitment. A goal is more specific. Both are present and future oriented, and enriched by the past. But one is broad and the other is narrow. In fact, it's our values that best suggest, support, and guide our goals.
Everyone in a business needs to get as clear as possible on what the values of the company are. Only that can reliably lead to the right goals. Each of us needs to do the same in our personal lives. What are your values? What proper goals do they suggest, going forward?
In times of chaos and complexity, we can prioritize well only if we're clear on our goals and values. That clarity can create a new form of control and a personal command that's otherwise impossible to attain.
So think a bit on what your foundational commitments are, and about what your specific goals are.
Today.
First thoughts, initial ideas, can be great, or they can be dangerous. Often, we find ourselves in a situation where we're trying to make sense of something and figure out what to do next. The first thing that occurs to us can sometimes be right, as a deliverance of intuition or instinct, or as a gift of the unconscious mind. But there are other times when our first thoughts are due to fear, or habit, or some other extraneous factor that actually gets in the way of discovering the truth.
I was speaking yesterday at the downtown Hyatt Regency in Indianapolis, a great urban hotel. And right before I was to give my presentation inside the Regency Ballroom, I was wandering the nearby hallway and came across a sign. I took out my iPhone and snapped it, posting the photo to start this blog, above. Theory A.
And then I walked a few feet and saw the following, of course.
Every philosopher likes to initially have more than one theory available, when attempting to understand something new. The same thing holds true in business, and even in our personal lives. Theory A. Theory B. Sometimes, even more of a selection of possibilities helps. What's important is not to rush to judgment. Don't let your first thought necessarily dictate all subsequent rumination. Reconsider. Open up to the possibility of something new. We can always be learning. It may be that your second, or third idea is the best, and the one you need to run with. Test whatever comes to mind. Then act.
And even when you find that your first theory was right, your exploration of other possibilities will help you understand how others might think about the situation, and might even give you clues into how to implement your favored approach. What's important is to broaden your thinking and keep open to something new.
Try this if you can, in any new situation you might face. Whenever Theory A occurs to you, conjure a Theory B, to help you think better about it all. Then choose which is best.
Keep your mind open and flexible, always able to contemplate the new.
Today.
Or Tomorrow.
"Energy is eternal delight." William Blake.
Printer, painter, poet and mystic, William Blake knew what he was talking about. Samuel Smiles once praised energy and described its place in life like this: “It is energy - the central element of which is will - that produces the miracle of enthusiasm in all ages. Everywhere it is the mainspring of what is called force of character, and the sustaining power of all great action.”
Do you have that experience of eternal delight that Blake refers to, the motivating enthusiasm that Smiles so values? If the answer is "no" or "rarely" then you should ask yourself some questions.
Are you well rested? Do you eat right? Do you exercize every day? Do you meditate or pray? Those are what philosophers call facilitating but not sufficient conditions for that inner magic that moves the world. The most important ingredient is a cause to believe in. Deeply.
Are you doing something you really believe in? If not, why not? Find a way to get a big picture for your work. Connect it to the meaning of life. Connect it to something noble. Or change what you do to something you can view in this way. Then you’ll experience the energy that's always at the heart of great endeavors.
So get some rest. Eat right. Move around. Calm your spirit. And believe. Then surf on the good energy that can flow though you.
Today.
