The Inner Game of Everything

Imagine two outer actions, which would appear exactly the same to an onlooker. In one case, the act springs from a routine in a job that's long lost its luster. And if we could walk into that office and ask the guy involved in that action, he might tell us that he was excited about his job at first. It was his big break. It was an entry level job, but in a big company. The building was beautiful. His colleagues were smart and ambitious. He seemed to have his foot firmly in the door of greatness. But the culture around him soon became clear. It was all about the sale, all about the money. Profits were the air they breathed. But breathing that air, and only that, every day over time, had taken a toll. He had lost the true excitement of the early days. The enchantment was gone. It had gradually become a matter of pressure, and routine. He now still kept up the pace, and all relevant appearances, and did the work, but it was almost automatic, and without any inner soul.

The other guy, across town, the one performing apparently the same outer action - say, reaching for a phone, or filling out a form, or making an entry into his computer - lives and works each day with a strong sense of purpose, and a real passion for what he's doing. He's with great people who think and feel the same way. They have a camaraderie and a sense of mission for the work they do. They're building something new together. They're making a difference.

I submit that the two identical looking actions of these different individuals are really not the same at all. One of the actions is ennobled by the inner state from which it springs. The other is not. And this is not some flaky mumbo-jumbo mysticism. It's a difference that makes a difference. One action embodies something almost magical, and it will, eventually, if not right away, have seriously different results, on many dimensions, regardless of how small an act it is.

I've come to think that it's the inner that's always definitive of the outer, in everything. When the spirit is right, the enterprise is just different, and vastly more. Plato distinguished clearly between appearance and reality. We should all do so, as well. No matter what the appearances might be, it's what bubbles up inside us, what animates us in our minds and hearts, that makes all the difference.

Inner purpose, real passion, and the sort of commitment that embodies a spark of nobility simply brings something different into the world. Don't you think?

What will animate your actions today?

Hot Dogs, Potato Salad, Chips, and Commitment

I wasn't going to write anything today about the Fourth of July. It's too obvious a blog post to do. But then I came across a news article alleging that young adults tend to be less patriotic than older adults these days, and that's it's a generational thing, rather than a life stage phenomenon. The essay went on to say that there's an even greater commitment to freedom and equality and opportunity among young adults - founding values of our nation - but less commitment to the nation itself, or to common notions of patriotism.

Years ago, during a debate over patriotism that took place in the aftermath of the events on 9-11, 2001, I privately printed a little book for friends and clients called The Everyday Patriot: How to Be a Great American Now. It's message was that patriotism isn't supposed to be a large-scale version of tribalism at its worst, a nationalistic form of bellicose jingoism, an "us against them" mentality, or even a superior, exceptionalist mindset. It's meant to be about a commitment, to ideals that can be universal, yes, but also to an enterprise begun in this part of the world not that long ago, by historical standards.

Patria: Homeland. Love: Commitment. I see patriotism through the framing of our founders, as meant to be a commitment, or an engagement, of our better selves in an enterprise that, with all its flaws, is an attempt to enact principles of governance and social freedom that will allow people, as individuals, in families, and throughout communities, to flourish and have lives that are worthy and meaningful.

The essay I read today in the paper said that young people aren't as excited about the symbols of our nation as older adults tend to be. But, since when was patriotism primarily about flag pins, and flags, and certain songs, and parades and fireworks? 

Symbols are always secondary to, and reflective of, realities, if they're any good at all. And patriotism is about the realities of commitment that I like to call "voting every day." I think that voting in every election is important, for several reasons. But I think it's just as important, if not more so, to vote every day with our time and attention, and efforts to make our little parts of this nation better - our homes, neighborhoods, communities, and businesses: That's what patriotism, at its best, is all about. It's about voting every day in a way that adds something a little positive to this big enterprise that is America, not in opposition to the rest of the world, but as a positive contribution to the rest of the world, as well. Anything less is a counterfeit of patriotism, and not the real thing at all.

So today, enjoy any celebrations that you do. And take a moment to ponder your own relationship to what's being celebrated. I hope I can also encourage you to reflect on ways that you can vote every day, and demonstrate that patriotic spirit that's behind all the best in our nation's history.

Humility. Yikes.

I had a recent lesson in humility. Actually two. I wrote this post days ago with a bad title and almost no one read it. That was lesson two. I can write bad titles. Actually, I should have realized that years ago, having penned a book called Anselmian Explorations. On one level, it was aptly labelled. On another, the phrase doesn't quite sizzle, does it? But anyway, my blogpost title didn't exactly lure in multitudes to philosophize with me. It was a lonely pondering day.

Humility Lesson One happened several days prior to that.

I had worked hard and for many days to memorize the famous "To Be or Not To Be" soliloquy from Shakespeare's great play, Hamlet. It's longer than you might remember, at over two hundred words. After a lot of effort, I finally had it nailed, with feeling. It's worth the effort, for the ideas you eventually glean from it, as you perform it while feeding the dog, or driving to the store, And that very day, the day I had first done it perfectly, start to finish, I was in the checkout line at my local grocery store, rehearsing it once more in my head as my purchases were bring rung up, when I suddenly became aware that the checkout girl was saying something to me. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" She repeated herself and I laughed and said, "I didn't hear you the first time because I was practicing in my head something I recently memorized."

"What did you memorize?" She seemed genuinely interested.

"The To Be or Not To Be passage from Hamlet." I said it with a feeling of great pride in myself.

"Oh, I memorized Hamlet once," she replied.

"Wait. You mean a passage from Hamlet?"

"No, the whole thing."

"The whole thing? The entire play?" My large balloon of pride was rapidly losing air.

"Yeah, the whole play," she said, and then added, "but, not in English."

"What do you mean not in English? It's an English play." I gave her a puzzled smile.

"I know, but I memorized it in Klingon."

"In what?"

"Klingon."

"The Star Trek language?"

"Yeah, it took me five and a half months. But I got it."

"Wow. Jeez. That's pretty amazing."

"Yeah, it was fun." My balloon was now empty and lying pathetically inert on the ground.

The lesson I learned, and reflected on as I carried my bags to the car, was that we should all remember the two inscriptions written in marble at the Oracle of Delphi in ancient Greece. First: Know Thyself. And second: Nothing in Excess. If you have a tendency to puff up in pride at the least accomplishment, knowing that about yourself is the first requirement for controlling it and reigning it in. It's fine to feel a glow of accomplishment, of course, but, as the Oracle also reminds us, "Nothing in Excess." Because, more often than you think, whatever you've done, there may just be someone else out there who has done much more, and in Klingon. So remember, as the Klingons say, yIDoghQo' - or in English, "Don't be silly," control the balloon of pride.

Two Famous Authors. One Big Lesson.

I've met two famous authors on airplanes, and their differences taught me a big life lesson.

I've traveled a lot for twenty years, sometimes flying on as many as 400 planes a year. I've met a lot of interesting people along the way, from every walk of life, and have had amazing seat-mate conversations with famous athletes, actors, producers, CEOs, trust fund kids, and thousands of people working in almost every job you can imagine. If they want to talk, we talk. And sometimes, four hours can pass like twenty minutes. But if they want to sleep or read or work, or maybe watch the latest blockbuster, I always have my own stuff to do, as well. And yet, I advise trying to start up a conversation, or giving one a chance. What you can learn as a result is truly life-enhancing, as you likely may know from your own experience.

Last night, as I tried to get to sleep, I found myself recalling two famous Christian authors I met some time ago on two different airplanes. One spent all our time together on telling me how great he was; the other, on telling me how great I was.

The first guy made sure that I and everyone around us knew how many books he had published, and how wild about his sales his publisher was, how spectacularly well his books were doing at Barnes and Noble, in particular, and on various bestseller lists, even regaling us with monthly sales figures and details about store placements in the big chains. Within fifteen minutes, I knew that he was number one seller in several categories, and how he could command the big stores to do his will in ways customarily thought impossible. I learned that he addressed huge multitudes and regularly signed books until his hand almost fell off.

The other guy, I had met briefly when I was a college student, many decades ago, when I had attended one of his talks, and he was already a pretty famous speaker and writer at the time. Over the years, he had continued to build a following. When I recognized him and said hello to him on the plane, he stared at me for a second and then said, "I remember you from your college days." I said, "Really?" I was shocked. He must have met a million people along the way. He said, "I've been following your work as a philosopher and hold it in high value. I'm really proud of you." I was astonished that he remembered this southern kid he once met long ago, and that he had actually noticed what I had been doing with my life. I was floored. And, of course, gratified. I hardly knew what to say. He then wanted to know more about my life since we had first met.

Lest you try to guess identities, I should quickly point out that neither of these guys was or is a pastor at a mega church. But both have sold a lot of books. Of course, I can give you exact sales numbers for only one of them. The lesson for me was simple. I was deeply alienated by the guy cared so much about his own success and deeply touched by the man who cared so much about me. And I'm pretty sure my reactions were entirely normal. Let's always try to remember that, Ok? Let's be like the guy who was in the end more eager to ask than to tell, who cared about other people more than his own eminence.

A little success can blow us up like hot air balloons. We have to be careful about it. I could tell you more stories about this same contrast of attitudes in other famous people I've met along the way, but then ... I'd start sounding like the wrong guy. So, instead, let me ask about you.

The Wild, Alluring, Unpredictable Next

We're called not to predict the future, but to create it. Uncertainty isn't an obstacle, but the canvass on which we all paint.

Will you, then, just copy what others have done, tracing the lines they've already laid down, and using colors long before mixed, in the hope that this will serve you well? Or rather, will you, perhaps, paint boldly something new?

What we learn from the past can help us to get past the past and move into the distinctive future that our present can best create.

Your Deepest Resource

The conscious mind is a high walled fortress, with only a few small gates, all under guard. Those guards are your prior beliefs, attitudes, interests, and fears. It's amazing how little of anything new these strong sentries will ever let through.

The unconscious mind, by contrast, is a vast garden surrounded by only a short and open fence. It absorbs energy and intelligence and deep truth from all around it.

The fortress is cut off and isolated. The garden is wonderfully connected. Hordes of small flying envoys tend its flowers and pollinate its plants. The radiance of something greater comes into it and elicits its growth. And it's always open to the rains that come down to nurture it and wash it clean.

You live in the fortress, but need what's in the garden. Without it, you'll never thrive. The good news is that there's a secret door to the garden. The bad news is that it's normally blocked by the clutter and debris of a noisy and busy life. The realization that you need to live with, every day, is that you can sweep aside the clutter. You can reduce the chatter of the conscious mind, and get beyond it, and open the secret door, not just in quiet meditation by a stream or in a dojo or in a closed room alone, but at your desk, in your car, or on the treadmill at the gym.

But there's a lot to let go, a lot to release. Guards will rush into the room and try to block the door, and they will tell you that it's for your own protection, but nothing could be farther from the truth. You need what's out there. And when you dismiss the guards, quiet the chatter, and remove the clutter, the door will open itself.

And then the light will shine in and you can find yourself suddenly, wonderfully, able to move into that wild garden of insight, and energy, and hope, and that distinctive form of love that alone connects us to the best we can be and do.

When I walk in the garden, I'm refreshed and inspired and emboldened to do something new. I grow. I see in new ways. I hear quiet whispers. And I connect up with so much that, for too long, I've let the clutter and the chatter and well-meaning guards keep from me.

How do you get into the garden? What happens when you're there?

I have a story about this that I'll tell soon.

The Two Great Motivators

There are two great motivators, love and fear. Fear narrows us and holds us down. Love broadens us and lifts us up.

Which will you choose today?

Choose well.

Machiavelli, in his famous book The Prince, by the way, got it all wrong. He said that we're ruled by love or fear, and that love is too fickle, so we should motivate through fear. Fear is a Max-Minimizer: People motivated by fear figure out the least they can do in order to still avoid the feared consequence (not engaging in the very least or minimum they might do, but rather the maximal level the minimum has to rise to in order to avoid punishiment). They never do their best, or become their best. People motivated by love connect what they do to their deepest values and highest aspirations and, as a result, soar.

In another book, Machiavelli got it right, but it's a book no one reads, The Discourses. He said, "Mercenaries never make the best soldiers." Why? He doesn't explicitly spell it out. But by the context you can tell. What motivates mercenaries? Money. What motivates the very best soldiers? Love. Love of country, family, city, comrades, and even, traditionally, a love of honor.

But Machiavelli never fully understood what makes everyone, not just soldiers, their best. When we're motivated by love, we maximize our efforts to learn and grow and do well. We become more. And we accomplish what we never could have attained and sustained through fear.

So, as you can see, I recommend love. It may not be all you need, but it's the main thing, for sure.

The Next Steve Jobs

Since I was first asked a few years ago to speak about Apple founder Steve Jobs and his extraordinary success, I've had several occasions to give that presentation and to further reflect on his life and work. In connection with these events, I've often been asked the question, "Who'll be the next Steve Jobs?" or "Where's the next world changer, and universe-denter, now?"

I think one such person just may be Elizabeth Holmes, who as a 19 year old Stanford University undergraduate, decided to drop out and start a business that may just change the world on the scale of a Steve Jobs. Her vision is for revamping healthcare for the better, and she has amazingly innovative and practical ways of doing so. One of the best articles about her is here, in Fortune Magazine.

It made me smile to see in the Fortune piece the little factoid that when Elizabeth went off to college, her dad gave her a copy of one of my favorite practical philosophy books, the Meditations by stoic philosopher and Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Explaining the gift, he said, "I wanted it to reinforce the message of a purposeful life," and added, "I think it really affected her." The stoics like Marcus, and Seneca, and even the most austere Epictetus, do tend to have that affect. They teach us the inner conditions for outer greatness, as I relay in my own little book, The Stoic Art of Living. The young Ms Holmes clearly got the message and has launched an entrepreneurial adventure that is likely to change the world in very positive ways. 

Let me give you an example. Do you dislike having a large needle inserted into your arm to take your blood into large vials several days before your annual physical, or any other sort of doctor visit? She's discovered a way to replace the dreaded needle in the arm with a painless finger prick, get all the blood needed in one drop, and do pretty much any test in four hours, and at a fraction of the cost of traditional lab work, which can often take many days. Because of her numerous inventions, we'll be able to monitor our health at a fundamental level and in an ongoing way, and catch problems before they develop into terminal difficulties. Medication delivery systems will also likely be revolutionized by her company, Theranos, with doses constantly tailored to patients and their particular responses, changing as alterations are needed, and with information being instantly sent out to both patients and doctors. The large scale shift from her small but powerful innovations will be amazing, over the years,

Elizabeth is described by people who know her the best as having "pure" motivations, wanting to do great good, and as being basically uninterested in the personal financial boon that her inventions and creations will inevitably bring her. What's made her so different? What's set her apart? Well, the pure heart was a great start. But she also combined this with a powerful approach to business. She's a young woman with great curiosity about how things work, and how they could work, instead. She's paid attention to common problems, thought about them creatively, and come up with innovative solutions that bring together divergent perspectives in a unique way.

That's a formula we can all aspire to emulate. Will it make you or me the next Steve Jobs, too? Hey, I'd be content to be the next Steve Wozniak! But, actually, I really just want to be the best TomVMorris that I can be. A strong purpose, pure motivations, a desire to do good, great curiosity, and a proclivity to take innovative approaches to common problems can position any of us to be the best that we can be, and to put our own small dents in the universe.

Finally here, a shout out to the universe-denter and game-changer Tanya Maslach, Chief of the Tribe at www.GoTribal.com, where healthy lifestyles are being encouraged in new and innovative ways, through the power of relationships. It was Tanya who just recently introduced me to the work being done by Elizabeth, whom I consider to be her kindred spirit. Go visit GoTribal and find out why.

The Power of Old Books

If you read what everyone else is reading, you'll tend to think what everyone else is thinking, which can lead you to do what everyone else is doing. And that certainly won't set you apart.

We've all noticed the way best selling-books on business or life can change what's on people's minds and their to-do lists. Fads develop and sweep the world of business, until the next one comes along. And at each stage, at some point, you come to realize that what you thought would give you an advantage and make you stand out has been adopted by all your competition, and your new trick has become the standard used by all, leveling the playing field just when you thought you'd be summiting the mountain.

As C. S. Lewis once said, the only way to break out of the thought patterns of the present and get some truly novel ideas would be either to read the books of the future, or the books of the past. The books of the future are, inconveniently enough, not yet available to us. Therefore, we should read books of the past.

In an era where everyone is trying to make the leap from good to great, there are a few who attain the status of legendary. And that never happens by just doing a little better what everyone else is doing. It requires some revolutionary twist. And how does that get sparked? I've found that it's often people who feed their minds on something different, whose own thinking then becomes interestingly different, and, on occasion, even revolutionary.

So, my advice, on this Sunday morning, is to go find a book of the past to read. Some that have meant a lot to me recently are Gilgamesh, the story of a rich, powerful, handsome king in 2700 BCE who went from being an exploitative tyrant to becoming a good leader, building things to last. How? The old epic tale tells the story. Then, there's Beowulf, a great classic cautionary tale about a powerful achiever and slayer of monsters who made one crucial and all too common mistake that cost him everything. You want to avoid it? Read the book. Or try Frankenstein, Mary Shelley's amazing tale of goal setting gone bad. Who knew that Dr Frankenstein, through a turbulent mix of classic hubris, outsized ambition, self-centeredness and fear, could create a nightmare which he tried to solve, not by doing the right things, but by becoming a motivational speaker!

If you have more time, Don Quixote may be the greatest novel of all time. Is he the ultimate paradigm of the ideal visionary now beloved by the tech world and VCs everywhere, or a stark raving madman to be avoided at all costs? Or look at Moby Dick. If you can stomach all the whale blubber, you get a tale of a captain who is supposed to steer the ship to profits for its owners, but takes it over for his own purposes and ruins everything. Short of time to read?  The great Roman stoic Seneca has some of the greatest advice ever in his letters and essays.

Then, there's the Manual of Epictetus, the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, and Xenophon's captivating and amazing book on leadership, The Education of Cyrus. 

I could go on. But I have to go read something old. Meanwhile, have a great day.

The Secret Source of Creative Success

We've all heard the old saying: Curiosity killed the cat. But I can assure you that the cat's just fine. It was simply propaganda put out by the dog. Only that ancient cat named Socrates was rewarded for his curiosity the final way.

It turns out that curiosity is the great differentiator. Highly curious people tend to be chief among the creative innovators, inventors, and pioneers in all dimensions of life and work. It's hard to think of anything a company needs in order to stay creative and competitive more than a culture of curiosity. And yet, that's something we rarely talk about, thereby once again confirming the profound and rarely discussed Socratic Inverse Attention Rule: The least important things, we think about and talk about the most; the most important things, we think about and talk about the least.

We should begin talking more about curiosity - what it is, and how it's cultivated. Because that, I believe, is the secret source of creative success.

What do you think? I'd like to know.

I'm curious.

Freedom Riders and The Magic of Commitment

What brings people together with a special sense of excitement and meaning? What amps up motivation and commitment through the roof? What bonds people into great winning teams? I recently watched two PBS broadcasts about the civil rights movement in the United States, in the early sixties. The many student volunteers who rode buses from northern universities into the far land of Mississippi to engage in voter registration in the June of 1964 faced hostility, violence, and constant threats during a hot and scary summer. And now, decades later, looking back, they report that it was the time of their lives. They say things like, "When it was time to leave and go home, I knew that I'd never have an experience like that again, a sense of doing something to change the world, and a sense of extended family with people I'd probably never see again."

A friend of mine once talked with lots of veterans of World War Two and was surprised that he kept hearing them speak of their wartime experience as "the time of my life." They were being shot at and bombed, under the most difficult daily living conditions they had ever experienced. But they often reminisced about those days as something truly special. They spoke of bonds they made with guys who were very different from them in so many ways, but who became like a band of brothers.

Those two contexts clearly involved (1) a strong sense of purpose, (2) constant danger, and (3) a special bond that seemed to arise out of elements 1 and 2. It could be that from our collective early human history as hunters and gatherers, we developed a special experience of purpose amid danger, and an intensity of commitment in relationship to those who shared that purpose and that threat. It was a matter first of survival, and second, of flourishing. Those who did not bond and arise to overcome the odds did not survive. And we are the inheritors of those survivors.

It could well be that there is a deep motivational mindset that arises in such a context, which allows us, in turn, to rise to the occasion and do great things that go far beyond the mundane, and become almost magical.

You occasionally see it on sports teams, without the extremity of danger confronted by those in the civil rights movement, and those who have fought in wars. I saw in on one particular Notre Dame football team, during my many years there, the team that, interestingly, won the National Championship of 1988. So, it seems possible that the special bonding and motivation that we're talking about depend, not on danger itself, but on a sense of very high stakes. When the stakes are high enough, we respond. And, if that's true, then, in principle, we could create the conditions for this in our work lives. Why should it be that those who came back from the second world war, and those who returned to school or work from The Freedom Summer of 64, should never have that special experience of service again?

A friend just came back from the big rock music festival of the summer, in Dover, Delaware. He said of the 80,000 people around him that "They were all so happy to be there." They wanted to be there. They were there with a purpose. And, he said, "They were a happy bunch, as a result." They were part of something big, something they believed in, and they were there with a commitment that was "all in."

Why can't we create conditions in our companies where nearly everyone feels a sense of purpose, a sense of being part of something big, something that's going to "change the world" for the better in some way that makes them feel "all in"? When the purpose is great enough and the stakes are high enough, it can happen. Then, why do we ever settle for so much less?

The Very Short Tale of the Hare on the Chair

“Where is the hare?”

“Oh, no! On the chair!”

“You swear?”

“Over there!”

“With his nails and his bunny tail bare?”

“You care?”

“Oh yes! Beware! An Impending Nightmare!”

“A rip or a tear?”

“Or worse! We need some small underwear!”

“I’m afraid, alas, there is none to spare!”

“The things that I bear!”

“But this is so rare!”

“It’s just not fair!”

“Should I chase him away, and right down the stair?”

“Oh me! Oh my! Do you really dare?”

“There’s no other choice of which I’m aware!”

“But, this is a job that we should both share.”

“Yes! First, you stand right over here,

and shout and wave your arms in the air.”

“I will! I’ll give him a jolly good scare!”

And they did, with really no further fanfare,

Which took all their brains, with none left to spare.

And, when it was done, the new fabric would wear,

not one single stain, but truly, a pair.

It looked like two bits of chocolate éclair

had dropped on the cloth and, in the sun’s glare,

had melted and soiled it beyond any repair.

And now, when guests are told, "Sit anywhere,"

they tarry a bit and try not to stare.

The use of this seat is, sadly, too rare,

which leads to the lesson we need to declare:

Never to scare a hare on a chair.

© 2014, TomVMorris.

A cautionary tale, of course, on how we deal with challenges. Did you ever dare to scare a hare on a chair?

*First comment, from a little child: "Berry Bunny."

shhhhh

Number One: In a Hurry

First: New on The Huffington Post, June 24. Tom talks with Patricia Pearson, author of Opening Heaven's Door, about death and the possibility of life after it. Click here.

When you have literally thousands of competitors, how do you get to be Number One?

Shortly after I arrived at Notre Dame as a young assistant professor of philosophy, we went on to become the Number One place in the world for my first academic specialty, the philosophy of religion. And it happened within a year. Given that there are over 7,000 universities worldwide, and 10,000 research institutions of various sorts, being Number One at anything in those circles is pretty remarkable.

How did we do it? Engagement. Expectation. Energy. Encouragement. Enthusiasm.

We hired professors and admitted graduate students who were maximally engaged in our enterprise, intellectually and emotionally. Engagement was through the roof. We believed in what we were doing, and we were passionate about it.

And we set new expectations. I remember my first month on campus. The Director of the Center For Philosophy of Religion had been the host of a big meeting to present and discuss new work in the field once every two years. I asked him if we could have meetings every week. He looked shocked. He said, "What do you mean? Do you have in mind weekly groups where we'd read and discuss books written by the leading people in the field, worldwide?" I said, "No, I have in mind weekly groups where we'd develop the ideas that will be in the books that will be read and discussed by people in the field, worldwide."

We wouldn't just read the leading authorities in the field. We'd be the leading authorities in the field. And that expectation paid off. Within a very brief time, colleagues from around the world wanted to come to us, as visiting fellows, guest lecturers, and just informal colleagues, to see what was going on, and maybe try out their own ideas on us. We were the hub, the center, the locus of innovation in a discipline that had been around for centuries. Yes, it was a mature industry, to be sure. And there were thousands of competitors. But we did new things. Every single week.

The energy up and down the halls was electric. People were always dashing around, popping into my doorway with a new idea, an innovative angle on something, a story to share, or a question to ask. We were inventing the future of our discipline every day. We were the creators, the pioneers, the bold adventurers. Everyone else was watching us. How you could not be excited about that?

And we encouraged each other constantly. We fed the fire of each other's enthusiasms. Anyone's success was everyone's success. We were a team summiting the mountain together. I wanted to see the younger guys succeed. And they, in turn, cheered me on. Many scholars have subsequently told me that there was never a department, never a specialty, and never a time, quite like that. We made history. And so, I know how it's done.

Any group of intelligent, well trained people can rise to new and even surprising heights, sometimes even becoming world class, and - yes - Number One, if they instill a culture of engagement, expectation, energy, encouragement, and enthusiasm to light the fire of greatness in each other. We too often settle for so much less. And I have just one question. Why should we ever do that?

The Power of Position and Perspective

Two of the most powerful things in the world are position and perspective. A highly skilled old friend who travels the world all the time came up to me today to show me the screen of his iPhone. On it was one of my recent posts proclaiming that:

1. Ideas rock the world. 2. Relationships rule the world.

My advice was that we embrace and use these two truths well. My friend, who works with one of the world's biggest and best known companies, said, "I'm going to send this one to the CEO. We're in a position right now to change the world, but without these two insights and their careful implementation, it'll never happen."

There's great power in being well positioned to do something huge, vital, and good. But without the proper perspective on your placement, on what's important, and on the best purpose guided plan to get you to the next level, the leverage of position evaporates, and the world is left without the positive impact that you were well placed to make.

Position can encompass your role, or status, in a company, your company's network in the world, or a culmination of any individual's talents, skills, past successes and current regard. I mean it here in the most general and universal sense of positive placement. You've worked hard to position yourself to do something important. You now need the proper perspective on what comes next - on what to do and how to do it in order to make the most of your overall resources.

So, it looks like what we've got here is another non-trivial alliterative template for making great things happen:

Position and Perspective. 

And to parse out what position and perspective have to involve, we get the fuller list:

Position, Perspective, People, Purpose, and a Plan.

What's the connection between this and my previous post? Every position involves relationships, and every positive perspective involves ideas, as well as the people without whose passion those ideas will never get implemented at the highest level.

Without ideas that rock and relationships that rule, the power of position alone is lost. The needed perspective always involves appropriating great ideas, and appreciating great people.

That's the recipe for cooking up something great. And, hey, maybe changing the world.

Creativity in the Air We Breathe

Engagement and expectation are the twin keys to a culture of creativity. We need to feel deeply engaged in what we're doing, intellectually and emotionally, and we need to feel an encouragement and expectation that we'll always be trying something new. That should be in the air we breathe!

One of my old college friends, wrote me this morning that he had been blogging for ten years, and just went through all the posts of the past to see what had stood the test of time. He sent me a link to one he had put up after an email exchange we had in 2005. I want to post it today as a "Guest Blog" on these thoughts from my old buddy, the immensely creative Ed Brenegar. Here's Ed's original blog post:

Pioneering Creativity - Being Emotionally and Intellectually Engaged

Tom Morris emailed me about the notion of creating a culture of creativity.  Here's what he said.

"I think this climate of creativity is fostered when people are emotionally and  intellectually engaged in their work. They should think of themselves as pioneers. That's what it was like in my early years at Notre Dame. We just assumed we were the pioneers in philosophy of religion. We were all engaged so that no interaction was bland. There was a general expectation that we were always trying out new ideas on each other. Not many departments were like that. There was too much "ordinariness" of expectation. Even knowledge workers can fail to be emotionally and intellectually ENGAGED.  It's almost a spiritual disposition."

I very much agree with Tom here. 

What intrigues me about his comment is the recognition of the "'ordinariness' of expectation" by other departments. Unless there is an intentional effort to raise standards, the lowest standard in an organization will rule. Or, it is the standard that requires the least amount of effort to maintain a level of performance that keeps the wolves at bay.

In order to foster a culture of creativity, it requires people who are emotionally and intellectually engaged, and for that to happen, the leadership of the organization has to set a standard for performance that is both compelling and counteracts the tendency to marginal goals and aspirations.

Ultimately, this goes to the character of individuals. What I have found is that low standards are a product of the lack of vision or personal calling to achieve and the self-confidence to venture into unknown territory.

The people we celebrate as heroes, like Nobel Prize recipients, explorers like Lewis & Clark and Shackleton and soldiers who fall on grenades to save their comrades, are people who are intellectually clear about what matters and emotionally passionate about the opportunities and the cost that their ventures bring. These are the leaders from whom we can learn how to pioneer creativity that brings greatness.

- See more at: http://edbrenegar.typepad.com/leading_questions/2005/02/pioneering_crea.html#sthash.goBJkYU7.dpuf

Ideas and Relationships - The Magic in Action

There is a magical yin and yang of insight, as powerful as it is simple, for your work, and your life.

Yesterday, I wrote my shortest blog ever. It consisted of two basic insights.

1. Ideas rock the world.

2. Relationships rule the world.

Then I recommended pondering, using, and relishing these truths while leveraging them for great things. And, boy, did you guys do that - instantly! I got more email from that short post than from any I've done! One old friend told me that he's going to remember to "Rock and Rule!" Another described what he's learned as an executive in the midst of a huge merger. He's been reminded that even great ideas, without the implementation mechanism of relationships, are inert, and that our relationships, without the guiding spark of ideas, never lead to anything new, innovative, and great.

There is a yin and yang between these two truths. Great ideas can bring people together, passionately, to form relationships and rally energies. And great relationships, in turn, can spark new ideas. Many ancient proverbs recognize this. And there's been a crowd of profound philosophers who have seen it in action.

It's one thing to find great ideas, and form great relationships, and another to make the most of them, with each other. Are we keeping our relationships fresh and energized with ideas? Are we planting our best ideas in the fertile soil of our best relationships? And are we ever seeking new ideas, and new relationships for that special yin and yang magic they can bring?

Propositions and partners, concepts and comrades. Ideas rock. Relationships rule.

Or as an ancient philosopher might say, if he had been born in our time:

Don't be a fool, go rock and rule!

The Two Most Important Business Thoughts. Ever.

The two most important thoughts for any business, or actually any life adventure:

1. Ideas rock the world.

2. Relationships rule the world.

So, my advice for the day is: Ponder these two thoughts. Use these two truths. Relish these two leverage points for your energy and passion to make a difference.

Who Do You Spark? Who Sparks You?

Socrates taught Plato. Plato Taught Aristotle. Aristotle taught someone pretty important, too - Alexander the Great, but back when he was just Alexander the Average, a teenager needing guidance. Greatness sparks greatness. And it always has.

I had an amazing phone call yesterday with an old friend who is three years into building a business that will help change the world for the better. Yeah, it's in tech. But its all about sparking great things through connecting people well. And she reminded me of something interesting. All new business builders need investment money at the outset, and along the way. But what they need most of all is connections - mentors, people to spark them, and guide them, and hook them up them to others who can reveal what it will take to get to the next level, and maybe make that crucial introduction that will change things like magic. Did you ever read Keith Ferrazzi's book Never Eat Alone? It's a great one on the crucial importance of relationships in business.

Who do you spark? Who do you guide? Sometimes, an act of mentoring takes just minutes, or even seconds, to shoot off a quick email with exactly what your friend or young acquaintance needed to hear, or know. Even the dreamers who are great doers need help.

In 1814, Miss Mary Shelley, only 18 years old, was traveling with a group of friends. They challenged each other to a competition. They'd each write a scary story for their mutual entertainment. She pondered for days what she'd write about, and then had a dream that brought together elements of things that they had all been talking over in their time together. She woke up and wrote it down, a great cautionary tale about setting goals without thinking through their consequences, the novel Frankenstein, that offers wisdom on so many levels. It payed off to be hanging out with the likes of Percy Shelley and Lord Byron. And it payed off for them to be with the likes of her.

Who are your traveling mates? Who do you hang out with? When I left Notre Dame years ago, a lady said to me, "Tom, I'm 50 years old, and I always try to have at least one friend much older than I am, and one much younger. The older friend shows me the way forward. The younger one gives me the energy to get there." And I'm sure the sparks flew back and forth among them all.

Wise words. Who do you spark? Who sparks you? Spark on.

Say It Like You Mean It

Whenever you explain what you do, the product you sell, or the service you offer, do you nearly recite something you've said a hundred times, or do you speak from the heart?

Several months ago, I was pondering the fact that the main complaint of old age seems to be memory problems. I work out pretty much every day for my physical strength and health, but, I thought to ask myself on that occasion, what am I doing for the health of my memory? We adults hardly ever memorize anything like we did when we were in school. Somebody starts to give you a phone number, and you go, "No, no, no, text it to me!"

So I decided to start memorizing passages from Shakespeare. I could have done Miley Cyrus lyrics, or committed to memory the evening's tv schedule - anything would have helped exercise my powers of recall, I suppose. But I chose Shakespeare, because I thought: Maybe I'll be filling my head with things that will also help me think more deeply about life. 

And I was right. My first two passages came from Hamlet - first, the "What a piece of work is a man" passage (about a hundred words in Act Two, Scene Two), then the "To be or not to be" soliloquy (more than two hundred words in Act Three, Scene One), and then the famous "Saint Crispin's Day Speech" from Henry V (over four hundred words in Act Four, Scenes Three through Five). That was really a challenge. Now I'm doing, "All the World's a stage," (From As You Like It (Act Two, Scene Seven).  It's been a lot harder than I thought. But I've soldiered on, as King Henry would have wanted me to. And the results have been immensely enriching.

After working on each passage, and living with it, and trying to get the inflections and the emotions behind what was being said, I started watching famous actors do these passages on YouTube. The videos are easy to find. And I noticed something unexpected. I was surprised, now and then, to see a famous actor just going through the motions, "reciting" the lines he had memorized, and not speaking from the heart, not "feeling it," not owning the words as his own.

It's a truly great actor who can say it like he means it. And what I've noticed is that, when someone does that effectively, it connects with me at a different level. I really feel what he's saying. It goes deep.

And it occurred to me that this is probably what happens when we speak to others from the heart, authentically, and with genuineness. We connect at a deeper level.

Isn't that what we want in business and life? Not superficially going through the motions, but  doing whatever we do from the heart, with soul, and with lasting results for others.

So, the next time you go to speak to a client about anything important, or a family member about something vital - whatever you have to say - say it like you mean it, and give yourself the chance to really connect.

Does this connect with you? Comment here or email me. To Comment or Not To Comment isn't even a question.

Flying High

Airplanes facilitate creative thinking. And I want to ponder that a moment. Today, I'm flying from my home to San Diego, for a talk tomorrow morning. The first flight was Wilmington, NC to Atlanta. Now I sit on the second plane and what will be the long flight. But I've already had that experience, frequent to me on planes at altitude, of enhanced creativity. Is it the solitude, the absence of constant email and messages, or is it oxygen deprivation?

Wouldn't it be wild if creative thinking is enhanced by a mild lack of oxygen to the brain? Maybe, without the normal fuel supply, the normality of function is interrupted and something new can happen. But then creativity experts have been telling us for years that disruption can be beneficial. Get out of your routine. Do something different - especially if it's really different - shake up your normal cognition, and new thoughts can appear. Anything novel can crack the shell, and as philosopher CD Broad once said about famous mystics, "Maybe you have to be a little cracked to let the light shine through."

Oops, airplane mode announcement! More later!