TEX IS DEAD!

Tex died yesterday. I doubt any of you knew Tex. I didn't, and I was his next door neighbor for more than two years. You know how it is. Both of us working, doing our " thing," just "takin' care of business." Tex was a manager in an automobile dealership, and the goings and comings from his 12-hour-day, six-day week dedication was all of Tex I knew.

It may be different for you, but when anybody I even remotely know dies, my brain begins to rearrange priorities seemingly against my will. I start talking to myself more than usual using phrases like, "In the grand scheme of things...." and then desperately try to figure out, what the heck is the grand scheme of things?

Tex knew for about six months that he was dying. I wonder if during those last six months he ever felt angry or frustrated over the car sales he was unable to close during his years of hard work, or the weeds that were beginning to take up permanent residence in his lawn. I wonder whether he worried about the potential sale of the car dealership to an out-of-state company. I wonder if he concerned himself over what his boss thought of him or what his neighbors thought of him. I wonder if he stayed awake at night considering the effectiveness of the new advertising campaign, his receding hairline--or maybe none of those things made any difference to Tex in "the grand scheme of things."

I saw a bumper sticker that read, "The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing." The "main thing" and "the grand scheme..." both boil down to one word--priorities. It is only natural that Tex's priorities were different when he knew this life was coming to an end. My guess is that spectacular southwestern sunsets and sunrises looked even more special to Tex as his "days dwindled down to a precious few." Spending time with the family, grilling chicken fajitas on the Weber, cutting the grass and taking out the garbage, routine events often taken for granted, I am sure, were savored.

Most of us don't know how much of life we have left. Six months, six years, or sixty years? What do you do with your time? Chronobiology is an emerging science that studies how time interacts with life, but do you need a science? Time is how you partition your lives between birth and death. You don't have time, waste time or save time you can only spend time. Do you spend your waking moments deeply concerned over how your carpet is wearing, or do you spend the precious present sitting around glassy-eyed watching spiders spinning webs?

Spiders, glass eyes or anything in between, is fine as long as you understand you will never ever get that time back again. What would Tex do?

Lesson: You're dead a lot longer than you're alive; use alive time wisely.

SIGN LANGUAGE

SIGN LANGUAGE

I was killing time in a small airport gift shop in a mid-sized southeastern city. This particular gift shop was full of things one expects to find in an establishment surviving on tourist dollars, but the shop also contained something that would have been amusing if it wasn't so pathetic. In its relatively modest space this retail shop contained 22 handwritten signs placed strategically so as not to be missed. Following are the warm-hearted signs that greeted the potential customer:

2--No drinks allowed.
8--Buy magazines, then read.
1--These are old, out of date papers, please leave them alone!!
5--Please do not handle toys. Toys opened or damaged will be paid for by parents or guardians.
1--Please do not open pens.
5--If you break, you buy!


What do you think was in the minds of the owners, if anything? Do you believe they were looking to improve their bottom line by increasing profit through the patronage of satisfied customers, or was their main objective to reduce their expenses by closing up each night with nothing broken? I can just imagine their mission statement: To be the southeast's largest storehouse of unbroken stuff!

In your personal life what kind of "signs" are you putting up?
I am fragile--be careful with me.
I am tough; you can't hurt me.
Go away; I don't need anybody.
Stay with me; I am needy.
I am better than you, or anybody else for that matter.
I am a scatterbrain, follow up with me on every detail.


I judged the gift shop as non-customer friendly and chose not to stay, much less buy anything (lest I break it on the way to the cash register). How are people judging you? Why?

I first became aware of my acting like a billboard at the end of day one of a two-day program I was conducting. The group got together for beer and pizza. I was invited, and so as not to hurt the inviter's feelings, and simultaneously quenching my thirst, I graciously accepted. The next day in class an antendee of both the program and the drinkfest, came to me and said, "I saw you across the room, but you didn't look like you wanted to be bothered, so I didn't come over to say hello." It took a bit of self-analysis to admit he was right. I was tired and I had a big day coming up, but I sure never would have come right out and said, "Stay away, I'm tired and I have a big day coming up" to anyone. I didn't even think I was thinking it, and yet I was alone most of the evening. How did they know?

Lesson: You got it, you asked for it.

RUFUS GOOFUS

Ever watch hummingbirds eat?

The Selasphorus Rufus (hereafter known as Ruf) hummingbird is a sight to behold. Ruf is known as a "dominate feeder," that, loosely translated, means Ruf is the 500 pound gorilla when eating time comes around. With hummingbirds that's every waking moment of everyday of their fast and furious lives.

I was sitting in my office which overlooks a hummingbird feeder (actually in my office I tend to overlook a lot of things, but I digress) when I saw my first Ruf. Two non-Rufs were busily flitting from one feeder eating hole to another, and out of nowhere comes Ruf. The other two would have wet their pants if they could have found a pair to fit their spindly little legs. Ruf then began the process of doing his "dominate" thing and guarding the food supply so that no other hummer could feed.

To get something, you have to give up something. Ruf, to get sole possession of the food, had to give up something. What he had to give up was any time for him to eat the food he so jealously guarded. Ruf was so busy keeping others away, he couldn't eat. Sounds foolish doesn't it?

Let's ascend the food chain. My wife, Jean, taught 5th grade. A couple of times a year she had an "auction" in which the kids, using "Good Job " tickets which they have earned over the school year, bid on various items which Jean had brought in. Last auction a student named Destiny really wanted a small pitcher. Thomas another student, not knowing Destiny wanted the pitcher, outbid her. She was crushed, sad to see, but hey that's life in fifth grade (and everywhere else). In the process of wrapping the pitcher for his mother, Thomas got fifth grade boy-itis and dropped it. He now had a bag of smithereens for his mother. Jean later spoke to Destiny about what she thought of the events of the day and she said, "At first I was glad, but then I felt sad that nobody would be able to enjoy the pitcher"--a concept completely alien to Ruf.

When it comes to getting, or not getting, what you want, grade schools are full of lessons. During this same auction, Shelby a girl with special education needs really wanted a music box with a dancing clown. Shelby had 42 tickets to bid. The other kids knew that Shelby wanted that particular music box--the rest of the class stopped bidding at 40. Shelby had her music box with the dancing clown

When you don't get what you want, are you more like Ruf or Mrs. Payne's 5th grade class?



Lesson: Don't get your shorts in a wad over not having something, be happy for those who have it.

WALKING AND TALKING

Jean, what would you do if I died?

I thought that was an interesting and thought provoking question to ask my wife of many years during an after dinner walk. Jean, on the other hand, thought it was a strange and morbid question to ask anyone during an after dinner walk, but she answered it anyway.

I would move to Albuquerque, she said without skipping a beat.

I skipped a beat--let me tell you why. Over the previous few years Jean's entire family had moved from Sheboygan, Wisconsin to Albuquerque. Jean and I had some of our best vacations in New Mexico. A corporate co-worker and I had fantasized about getting out of the Chicago rat race and buying a hardware store in Albuquerque. As you can see, I was mentally settled in the Land of Enchantment already, and now I find out that the only thing that was keeping me from living out my dream was my not being dead! I thought it would be an interesting and thought provoking question.

Within the next eighteen months we were living in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The only sacrifice we had to make was my being alive.

That walking Q & A session taught us something we hadn't realized about ourselves (besides how cumbersome my being alive was). We realized that where we lived was important to us. We wanted to hang our hearts where there were mountains, sun and a sky you could see through. For other people the physical trappings of where they live mean little, for them it is the job, or closeness to family, or being able to hang around the old neighborhood.

There is nothing intrinsically right or wrong about where you choose to live or any other of life's choices, as long as you know what your choices are and choose to make them.

Get out after dinner and take a walk.

Lesson:Communicate with people important in your life about things that are important in your life.

LOVE IS A MANY SPLINTERED THING

In an interview aired years ago with the singer Boy George, not to be confused with the actor John Wayne, Boy said, "Any love is good love." Mr. George was answering a question relating to his sexual preference, so we can only guess what he meant by "any love", but the truth of his statement stuck with me.

It's been many years since my first dog-best-friend, Lucky, died and I'm still not over it. It's still hard to talk or even write about. Does love of an animal fit under the "any love" category?

The first three dictionary definitions of the word love ties love to a person. Definition four states, "A strong fondness or enthusiasm for someTHING." I accept that Lucky was not a person, but he definitely was not a "thing" and he was loved. (Obviously, Mr. Webster didn't know Lucky.)

Is it possible to love an animal as much as a person or an ash tray as much as an animal? Is that what "any love" means? Heck yes!

Love, to me, loosely encompasses anything (person, place, thing or animal) without which my life would be less. Selfish? Sure, but love is selfish. The more something means to YOU the more you love it, which makes love a multi-level concept. While you may simultaneously "love" your new electric can opener, your tropical fish and your spouse, the loss of one of those loves would leave a greater hole in your life than the loss of the other two. (Which one I'll leave up to you.)

Selfish love may not be a popular opinion and I guess, since anything is possible, it's possible to love some person, place, thing or animal for its own sake, but that depth of pure unselfish love is very, very rare. If selfish love bothers you, think of a true, top of the love-list love you have in your life. Could you lose that love without any "selfish" feelings? (How could this happen to ME? What will I do without him/her/it?)

I read the obituaries and feel badly for the deceased and their families for as long as it takes me to read about them, then it's on to the comics. My lost dogs, I still morn. I must be some kind of an unfeeling, sick, weirdo moping more over dogs than people. I may well be an unfeeling, sick, weirdo, but not in this instance because I don't know those people, but my dogs were MY dogs. Their loss affected me personally.

Love, at its simplest, is a hard concept. It's both hard to define, hard to apply and often takes losing love's object to know we had love at all. Considering love as a selfish human emotion may be a hard notion to grasp, but it is easy to accept when you consider, after all, you are the Center of the Universe. (See previous lessons)

Lesson: Love thy neighbor for thy self.

FROM THE INSIDE OUT

The medical profession is know for it but I believe every profession should accept it as their guiding principle. Truthfully, I believe it should be the guiding principle of life in general! "It" is: DO NO HARM.

Think about how much better everyone's life would be if each individual (who makes up everyone) did no harm? How much better would your time here on earth be if all people dedicated their lives to not harming themselves, their family, their community and their environment?

Shouldn't you dedicate your life to doing good? "Good" sounds like something you should be doing, but I believe first you do no harm, and if you have time left over, then you can do some good.

Imagine a twenty-four hour period where you do no harm to yourself; you eat all the appropriate food groups, sleep your eight hours, and exercise your mind and body. You treat each member of your family with honor, love and respect. You are a contributing member to your community, and you are gentle with the environment. Sounds like a full day eh? Once you've done all of that, you're now free to spend the rest of your day doing good, if there is any good left to be done.

Lesson: If we each take care of our self there will be nobody left to take care of.

LEST WE FORGET

The elephant was mistreated. The elephant was rescued. The elephant was sent back to Botswanna. Years later the man who mistreated the elephant visited Botswanna. The mean man went walking in the jungle. The mistreated elephant came out of the jungle and squished the bad man like a bug.

Another elephant was sick. The good man fed the elephant oranges. The elephant got well and was sent home to South Africa. Years later other nice men wanted to help the elephant who had gotten sick again. The elephant wouldn't come out of the jungle for his medicine. The nice men sent for the good man. He came. The good man went to the edge of the jungle and held up an orange. The sick elephant came out for his medicine. The elephant got better. The end.

The lesson from these two stories is too simple to make any more complicated. If elephants, in these basically true stories, don't forget rights and wrongs done to them years ago, how much more grudge-carrying, debt-owing can we humans be?

I don't believe it's just your extraordinary human memory that remembers the good and the bad done to you. Remembrance goes deeper. Sometimes when there is a lot of energy around a criticism or a praise, it seeps in every molecule of your being. That memory becomes part of who you are and fundamentally changes you. You shed indignities and dignities in the short term, but at some level you, like an elephant, never forget.

This primal and permanent memory requires you be very selective with what you choose to let in. The choice you have of what to remember, and how strongly to remember it, differentiates you from Dumbo. (And also that trunk thing.)


Lesson: Be careful what you choose to remember because you'll never forget it.

IS THAT A FAT LADY SINGING?

Since I am officially "the crazy guy down the road with all the dogs," I read with gusto the "Ask the Vet" column in the local newspaper. A couple of weeks ago the column taught me more than I expected to learn.

A 91-year-old man wrote in asking a question about his three-month-old puppy.

A man about 11 to 12 years past his expiration date taking in a puppy with an 11 to 12 year shelf life--I like the way that guy thinks.

Life went on before you arrived, and it will go on after you leave. You're responsible for not screwing it up while you're here. While he is here, the old man is living today as if he is going to be here tomorrow. How else should we live a life? The alternative is to live today as if it's your last day on earth. While you hear that as a positive from many motivational speakers the truth is if you knew this was your last day, you would probably spend the day making funeral arrangement, crying and sitting around waiting to be ambushed by the grim reaper. So, I think it's important we make plans for a tomorrow.

If you can't take it with you whenever you go, that must mean you leave it here. What are you leaving here? What are you leaving to grow, replenish and enrich the lives of those you leave behind?

The events of September 11, 2001 exposed us all to more reality than we asked for--the reality that life and all its ingredients are temporary. As all aspects of our daily lives appear less and less secure, there is a tendency to hunker down, circle the wagons and wait out the storm of life.

Truth is, our life, and our responsibility for enriching it, is no different now than it was on September 10, 2001

Before I read the vet's column, when we would pick up another dog, I would mentally do the math to see whether the dog or I would croak first. Why? Did I really think everything in the world would automatically destruct when I did?

Life is an ongoing process and that process will go on whether we're a part of it or not. People planting trees and gardens at their homes with a "For Sale" sign in the front yard, grandmas in graduate school, and grandpas with young puppies have the right idea.

Lesson: Your life is not over until you say it's over.

BJ AND ME

BJ, an old buddy, came to my hotel room to join me in sipping at least one adult beverage.

I was glad this room belonged to the hotel and I was just using it for a couple of nights because the room was not user friendly.

[Excuse me when I go on a tangential tear. Doesn't it bug you
when things that really only have one purpose for existence
don't fulfill that purpose? I remember years ago buying a pair
of waxed shoe laces. The wax coating made the laces look great,
the only thing those great looking laces didn't do, because of
that very waxed coating, was stay tied. Laces that don't stay
tied, uncomfortable hotel rooms--interesting times in which we
live.]

Back to my particular guest-adverse hotel room: The only chair in the room wasn't near the only light, and the couch wasn't convenient for watching the TV. But it was the hotel's room, and they did seem to like it this way, so I put up with it.

BJ didn't.

He walked into the room, wet down his ice cubes, sat in the chair and without equivocation or hesitation said, "This is no good." He got up and moved the chair to the other side of the room, unplugged the lamp, set it next to the chair creating a nice, cozy reading area. Next he rearranged the top of the dresser altering the position of the TV to directly face the couch. I now had an acceptable room. My quality of life had, in some small way, improved. (No thanks to me.)

What was the difference between BJ's approach and mine? BJ assessed current reality, saw the options, had a vision of a more desirable future and took action. I, on the other hand, thought the way they set up the room was not fun but what can you do, that's life. After BJ's visit they won't have me to kick around anymore.


Lesson: Don't take things the way they are, take things the way you want them to be.

SHAKE IT UP BABY

Things had gotten pretty darn quiet around the old dog ranch.

The dogs were into their routine; go out in the morning, perform their morning constitution, (I know what that means, but what does that mean?) bark at the horses, eat, sleep, get up and sniff other dog's constitutions, sleep, bark at the horses, and come in for the night only to start all over again in the morning. Pretty much same old, same old.

What can be said about your life, pretty much same old, same old?

Our dogs' well-ordered lives changed the day we brought home, Mugs, the puppy.

Mugs, a goofball hairball, was unaware of the routine. He knew nothing about letting sleeping dogs lie and would jump, lick and nip on the older members of the tribe all day and most of the night (when not enjoying one of his copious constitutions). When the old timers would attempt to get out of harm's way, lest they be licked, nipped and jumped upon to within an inch of their lives, Mugs, being a member of the herding group, would bite rapidly and repeatedly at their fleeing and flailing legs.

The sanctity of the older dogs' feeding dishes was also not honored, turning what used to be a tranquil scene of dogs enjoying a sumptuous meal of compressed corn, poultry and insect by products into a grade school cafeteria with the lunch room monitor missing. These daily inconveniences for the older dogs paled in comparison with the very real situation of rearranging tribal hierarchy. Our alpha dog had to reestablish his dominance; the previous omega dog, at least temporarily, moved up the pecking (literally) order; and the ones in the middle had to reshuffle.

The moment Mugs set his four big, uncoordinated feet on our property, our dogs' days had stopped being the same. Maybe it was for self-preservation, but the older dogs seemed to begin seeing the world through Mugs' eyes. There was a vibrant new life in every animal coupled with a new appreciation of everything around them. Mugs brought stimulating new smells, invigorating new activities, and exciting new relationships into a ho-hum "old" situation. I may be wrong, but if you catch him in the right light, since nutty Mugs arrived even our hound is smiling.

If you don't have a "Mugs" in your life, get one.

Lesson Embrace the crazy; it keeps you sane.

---

IMAGINE THAT

I saw a nature special on TV showing cheetahs miss their prey nine out of ten times. We would be a bit short of cheetahs if they became immobilized just thinking about the length of grass, the heat, the humidity, the extraordinary speed of the antelope and all those giant biting flies that will be around to screw up the next hunt. What kind of National Geographic special would it be if after their seventh miss, the disillusioned cheetahs went back to their den all tigered out, and their fellow cheetahs laughed at them like a bunch of hyenas. Then they spent the rest of the day lion around, taking cat naps, looking like the missing lynx and feline incompetent. (Sorry, got carried away.)

A cheetah does not spend Monday worrying about Tuesday's hunt.

Human beings are the only of the universe's creations that worry about tomorrow's "hunt," because we are the only creatures that possess imagination. (Hooray for us?) Your imagination enables you to do incredible and marvelous things, but the active use of negative imagination can also send you to the home well before your time. Imagination is simply a picture you conjure up in your mind that has no reality attached to it. You conjure; you create. Does your imagination portray you succeeding, or in your mind's eye are you meeting your cellmate Buck for the first time?

When I was in grade school, I had this belief that anybody older than me could beat me up. I didn't know I had this belief until someone older than me beat me up. The Franklin twins did it (Names are changed to protect the innocent--me. After all, they're still older.) The twins, while there were obviously two of them, were only about 1/3 my size, but did I mention they were older?

Every lunch hour for months, I would go out to the playground, and take my expected verbal harassment and physical lumps from the vertically challenged, age-enhanced, double buggers. I'd go home after school, "knowing" what the next day would bring and blaming the little weasels for not only their wompping up on me in the immediate past, but also for a projected rotten evening I was sure to (make myself) have in the immediate future. I wrapped up a perfect victim's day by tossing in bed all night, wide awake, reliving in advance the certain terror that lay in store for me the very next day. (An uncheetah like activity.)

No amount of worry (negative imagination) on my part seemed to have any affect on the actions of the Franklins. (And they, unlike me, were well rested enough to carry out whatever dastardly deeds they devised.) What ever the double nut twins did to me physically was nothing like what I did to myself mentally. I turned my imagination, given me by the forces of good, over to the forces of evil.

I did it. I knew it. Shame on me. Better luck to you.


Lesson: Imagining the best can't hurt; imagining the worst can.

TREE

A man with the chain saw was loose in the forest.

Our need for firewood, the density of the forest around our cabin, and the Forest Service's suggestion that we "thin out" to reduce fire danger, all combined to make me and my chain saw a busy pair.

I have never been big into killing living things. I will use a Dust Buster to suck up house insects and deposit them outside where nature intended them to be. So, I don't take cutting living trees lightly. But because of the above reasons, on many a weekend I put on my Paul Bunyon shirt, Paul Bunyon hat and gloves, petted my Blue Ox Babe and "Bunyonized" our little piece of the forest.

I must admit, some of the thinning out was done for the purposes of a better view from the deck. The other trees picked for execution were those that didn't "look right." Those trees were twisted, bent, too thin, too fat, basically not aesthetically pleasing. I know that doesn't sound like a caring, nature lover, but some cutting needed to be done and to me those were as good criteria as any.

But I didn't touch Barney.

Since I'm not very good at technical scientific tree names, for purposes of identification I'll call this particular tree, Barney. I usually try not to get friendly enough to name a tree I'm going to cut off the face of the earth, but I made an exception for Barney.

Barney met all the short-list criteria for cutting. He was thin, and at about three feet from the ground Barney took a ninety-degree turn. Imperfection of all imperfections, he was growing right outside a large picture window and in all his unmajestic glory, Barney obstructed our view.

I fired up the chain saw, pulled my safety glasses down off my Paul Bunyon hat looked at Barney, shut off the chain saw, put my glasses back up on my Paul Bunyon hat, and went inside to think.

I was determining which trees were perfect and which trees were not. Nature never makes that arbitrary distinction. Do I do the same thing with people? I'm afraid, all too often, I do. How about you? Do you look at people and judge them as too thin, too fat, or too "bent" in some way? I'm not saying you shouldn't judge, I doubt most of us will ever get to that high level of being where we are forever non judgmental, but how does that judgment affect your behavior toward the "imperfect" people?

I decided to leave Barney alone as a reminder to me how much more advanced Mother Nature was then I will ever be. She nurtured Barney just as she did her "perfect" trees.

Over the years we owned the cabin I was granted the privileged to watch Barney slowly and steadily straighten up, even when the heavy snows of winter tried to keep him down. I witnessed that scrawny stick fatten up the closer he got to the sun. He become a Barney to be proud of.

The day we moved out I took one last look over my shoulder at Barney, and I swear he winked at me.

Lesson: Ugly is in the eyes of the beholder.

WHO ME?

When I was asked to write an article for a book on success stories, my first thought was "What can I contribute?" I haven't been trapped in a coal mine and saved 25 of my coworkers. I haven't been on a Super Bowl winning team, adopted ten handicapped children, triumphed over massive head injury or built a multi-million dollar international company from the ground up.

Not only haven't I done any of those things, I don't personally know anybody who would qualify as the classic "success" story. That thought discouraged me until I realized something might be wrong with the classic meaning of success.

A friend had told me he was having more fun ever since he rethought and redefined fun. I think it was time for me to rethink and redefine success.

I decided success is not about winning at sports, finance, business, social status, or overcoming adversity. Success is about each of us doing our best at what we think is important.

Since we all don't believe the same things are important, who is to say each life is or is not a success story? Only we know how far we've come and how far we want to go. We must not allow anyone else to determine our success.

My mother committed 24 hours a day to raising two, clean, God- fearing, vegetable-eating boys. My father was a policeman for 40 years. He kept his nose clean even though he had plenty opportunity to line his pockets with ill-gotten gains. Instead he worked three jobs to insure his children a better life than he had. Successes? You bet.

Millions of people everyday who go about their lives contributing to their community by doing an honest day's work, caring for their families, worshiping what's in their heart to worship, and being gentle to others and the environment are successes. The family across the street that takes in foster children, the man from the office who works with the elderly on the weekends, the friend who suffers illnesses courageously, people who leave the world just a little better than when they came - those should be our heroes. These people are our genuine success stories, and they are everywhere we look.

We each have within us an extraordinary success story. So what if nobody else wants to hear it or Reader's Digest won't print it. The stories are ours, and nobody can take away from us the successes we are when we're doing our best at what we feel is important. You may have wanted to be like the late Paul Newman and ended up more like Alfred E. but you're a a success if you are the best Alfred E. you can be.

Lesson: You're most successful when doing your best at what you feel is important.

THAT OLD GREEN MAGIC

A man wakes up from a 20-year coma and calls his stockbroker. He asks the value of his $75 thousand worth of stock. The broker tells him $4 million. The man almost goes back into the coma. The computerized operator then comes on the line and says, "That will be $5 million for an additional three minutes."

What does money really mean?

When he was quite young, Grandma gave my older son, Tom, $2.00 to spend at the flea market. The first item he saw that intrigued him was a brand-spanking-newly minted dollar bill sold at the booth of a coin dealer. Tom liked the looks of the crisp, encased dollar bill. Though too young to do any serious collecting, he bought it for his $2.00.

As the day wore on and his fascination with the dollar bill wore off, he passed a booth selling toys. He saw a 60-cent squirt gun that looked better to him at that moment than the crisp, newly minted, encased dollar bill. He used the $2.00, $1.00 bill to buy the 60-cent squirt gun.

As we were driving home, my wife Jean and I mulled over the morning events and realized that Tom was not exhibiting the characteristics of a Warren Buffet (or maybe even a Jimmy Buffet for that matter). We, his sensible parents, had walked around a flea market for over two hours. We had seen many interesting items we would have liked to have, but being practical and business-like, we were going to save our money until we got well into our 90s -- then we could get whatever we wanted.

Now Tom, having parlayed his $2.00 to a 60-cent squirt gun with a few pennies left, did not demonstrate good business - not good business in the financial sense. But in the big-picture sense, Tom traded in money that has no value in itself and all day long had in his possession what to him did have value. His parents, on the other, hand drove home practical, business-like and empty-handed.

What good is our money, whatever the amount, if we don't have our squirt gun when we want it?


Lesson: A dollar saved is smart. A dollar spent is fun.

THE WHOLE TRUTH, AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH

In a magazine article I read, the COO of an international corporation, said: "I don't talk to my people about employability, but about this being a career. It costs a lot of money to get consultants up to speed. I don't want people who work for a few years as a consultant, and then get a "real job" in a company HR department. We're looking for people who want to stay 15 or 20 years."

Mr. Rogers, can you spell baloney? This is the same hole we were all pushed in--then buried up to our necks with shovels full of downsizings.

Of course organizations want you to stay 15 or 20 years as long as they need your skills. As soon as they don't need them, hasta la vista, baby.

I don't blame the organizations for reprioritizing their skill needs. Out with the old in with the new makes perfect sense to stay competitive in today's rapidly changing world. Just 'fess up! Getting what organizations need and telling the truth are not two mutually exclusive concepts!

With the mobility higher skilled people possess, why do some executives continue to try to lure folks into a sense of false security? They must stop peeing on workers' legs and telling them it's rain.

Lesson: Organizations rent employee skills for as long as the organization needs those skills. Period.

SO MUCH TO DO AND SO LITTLE TIME

I found a list of "to do" items in a book I took from my brother Bill's office. This would not have been an event worth remembering, much less writing about, if it hadn't been for the fact that I got the book when we were cleaning out Bill's office after his death.

A "to do" list for a person who has died set me to thinking. Listed were items in Bill's hectic, get-on-and-off-an-airplane, take-a-taxi, check-into-a-hotel, make-a-difference-in-others-lives, check-out, get-on-an-airplane, and start-all-over-again world. These were activities he believed he needed to accomplish to make his life and the lives of those he touched meaningful. Bill was, when you sort through all of the descriptors, a teacher.

While he was my younger brother, I followed him into the world of improving organizational performance by concentrating on the fulfillment and growth of each individual. Granted, I may not be very objective for many reasons, but I believe Bill's work was important. Bill gave it everything he had and was darn good at it. He took his work and his life seriously (a family trait), so those "to do" items were to Bill a real commitment. But to see them in the context of life and death definitely put "9 a.m. meet with Dean" into perspective.

In the past I have shared with you my philosophy of life -- "We're born, we die, and in between we do something." As simple as this philosophy is to understand, it takes most of us our entire time here on earth to figure out what that "something" is.

When Bill was diagnosed with cancer of the esophagus (Warning: not taking consistent heartburn seriously may be harmful to continued life), we spent time together just talking. Talking about things other than business was something we hadn't done in years. (Warning: not taking consistent time out with someone you love may be harmful to who you are.) I had recently read an article in Reader's Digest on 50 things the author wanted to do before she died. I told Bill that I couldn't think of more than two or three things that I wanted to do. Bill felt the same way. This meant that we had either done everything (which we knew was not the case), or our "possibility genes" had atrophied.

Over time, when you take life too seriously, and your "to do" list gets too long, you close out all other possibilities. You're born, you work on your "to do" list, then you die. If you don't fancy that as your epitaph, what are you doing to change it? Because of some errant cells, Bill and Ardele lost a devoted son, Joan lost a loving husband, I lost my brother/friend and you lost -- Bill.

In his life he taught thousands of people how to work. In his death, he taught me how to live. Adios, my friend.


Lesson: If you don't live a life, you don't have a life.

THE PICTURE OF YOUR LIFE

God's a real kidder. He consistently gives us a 30-hour fill on our daily to-do list yet aligned our planet into a 24-hour day.

What to do? What to do? Do we do what we want to do (also know as fun)? Do we do what we have to do (also know as work)? What about a combination?

Most people, for the sake of their own sanity, pick a combination. But how much of each? What we want to do (fun), all too often doesn't bring in enough money to feed the dogs. What we have to do (work), isn't always, well ---- fun.

Life balance is in the mix.

Genuine, honest-to-goodness, wouldn't-trade-with-anybody, life balance is in the mix of the various aspects of our human existence (Spiritual, Family, Social, Financial, Emotional, Physical and Intellectual)

Seven aspects divided by 24 hours means we must then devote approximately three hours and 45 minutes daily to each aspect to have a truly well balanced life, right? Except for the truly anal, of course not. Life balance must be more like Webster's New World Dictionary definition of balance: pleasing harmony of various elements...; harmonious proportions as in a painting.

"Harmonious proportions as in a painting" -- I like that. We're all busy slapping colors on our life's canvas. A little bit of family blue, a touch of social mauve, just a smidgen of intellectual gray, and since we're all not painting the same picture, maybe for us just a little dab of financial green in the corner will make the picture we want. But how do we know how much green and should it even be green?

The key to a well-balanced life is knowing the proper proportions. And we can't know the proportions until we know what want the picture to be. Too many folks today are diligently, doggedly, daily painting without the foggiest idea what they want the end result to look like, and then blaming the picture for turning out as it does.

What do you want your life picture to look like?

Lesson: The choice of how your life is balanced will be made. If you don't choose the "proportions," then something else will.

ALL OF LIFE'S A CIRCLE

Our dogs and the dogs on the next property are separated by a fence and united by a desire to run the fence line barking at each other. Up and back, back and up, until their hairy legs get tired, their barkers wears thin and their concentration fades.

Fence running was the one doggy game Lucky enjoyed even as he was getting close to the end of his life. In this one game he thought he was a puppy again. As the other dogs, ten to twelve years younger than Lucky, took off like greased lightening, Lucky took off like frozen peanut butter.

The pack would run the entire length of the fence with Lucky a minimum of fifty feet behind, but then the god that looks out for old dogs and children would take over. As the pack approached the end of the fence and turned to run back, the sun would shine, the birds would sing and there was Old Luck at his glory fifty feet in the lead.


Lesson: Sometimes you get so far behind you're ahead.

IS THAT YOU?

You slowly and luxuriously awaken on this Monday, a picture perfect, spring morning. The sun gushes in through the half open blinds. The smell of fresh country air blends with the cheerful chirping of the morning birds. Everything is right with the world, or is it? Among all this serenity and splendor something doesn't feel right. Then it hits you smack between your well rested eyes. It's not right! You meant to set the alarm for 5:30 am and it's now 8:30! (What a dope I am!)

You rush into work all disheveled, no time to put your facial self together and a coworker says, "You look like the south end of a north bound sheep." (What a mess! I don't look good even when I'm "heveled".)

All day is one gigantic screw up after another culminating in a long talk with a short boss over your very recent performance. (What a knucklehead! Another day like this one and I'm out on the street)

On the way home you remember you need gas as the car chugs to a stop on the freeway during rush hour. (I'd better get some gas because I'm too stupid to walk.)

Tuesday Morning: You wake up ten minutes before the alarm with the answer to the marketing problem you've been facing all week. (Pretty sharp somebody I am)

While simultaneously putting together the best omelet you have ever made, you correctly answer the quiz on the radio, winning an all expense paid trip to Las Vegas. (Vegas, start packing up the money, here I come.)

The elephantine error the boss thought you made at work yesterday was, in fact, not an error but the solution to all of the department's budget woes. (I wonder when my raise will come through?)

On the elevator, a coworker you have had your eye on for months enters and presses the "close door' button to be alone with you and tells you what a hotty you are. (It doesn't get much better than this.)

Which day was the real you, Monday or Tuesday?

Lesson: You are never as good as your best days or as bad as your worst days.

HI, HO, HI, HO

Work has been described as something you have to do and play as something you want to do. But the distinction is not always that clear cut.

What is work and what is play? Are there times you're more tense and strung out on vacation than on the job?

Have you had times you would rather be in a performance review with the boss than playing a friendly game of horseshoes at the in-law family reunion? (The preceding was an extreme example.)

To muddy up the meaning of work and play even more, your want to (play) may well be someone else's have to (work). Speaking in public was my "want to," and considering it's one of the top fears of adults, I can only assume it would fit snugly in most people's "have to" category.

Activities are activities and just that. What beliefs you bring to those activities determine whether for you they're work or play. If the activity exhilarates you, if for you it's full of excitement rather than excrement, what do you care if it's called work or play?


Lesson: Work is not always work, play is not always play, and the lucky ones can't tell the difference.

THE BIG GOOD BYE

I envy Tiny Tim. (The "singer," not the Christmas Carol Kid.)

Yes, I mean that 60s, long-haired, falsetto who tiptoed through the tulips and married Miss Vicki on the Johnny Carson show.

Tiny was performing in a room full of his fans in Minneapolis when he died of a massive heart attack.

So where does the envy part come in?

In an interview after Tiny tipped his last toe, his wife summed up the experience by saying, "He died singing Tiptoe Through the Tulips. The last thing he heard was applause, and the last thing he saw was me."

Herbert (Tiny Tim ) Khaury died doing what he loved, being rewarded for doing what he loved and lying in the arms of the one he loved. Neat eh?

I envy Tiny Tim.


Lesson: Even a mediocre performance can be salvaged by a classy exit.

THE SOUNDS OF SILENCE

Meditating doesn't necessarily require staring at a crystal while sitting in the lotus position, humming a mantra in the red rocks of Sedona, Arizona.

If that works, fine. But meditating, while having many meanings, to me means simply sitting still for a minimum of 15 minutes, breathing correctly and deeply, listening to what I have to say to myself.

How many people do you know spend 15 minutes a day to just "be," sitting back and letting what happens, happen? I know, we're all too busy. When can you find an uninterrupted 15-minute block of time what with the bosses, unreasonable requests, the kids' soccer practices, walking the dog and can't miss TV?

As hard as it might sound, taking personal time is possible. Mahatma Gandhi meditated for 24 hours straight once a week, and he seemed to get other things accomplished. (Of course he was the boss, not a soccer mom, and the cell phone reception was lousy.)

You may not see yourself as having the mental discipline of Gandhi, but why don't you even take a shot at it? Could it be when you're alone, eyes closed, breathing deeply, your conscious mind disengages and you access your subconscious mind and unasked questions begin to float to the surface? Questions such as:

"Am I growing and having fun on my job?"

"Are my relationships rewarding and full of mutual satisfaction?"

"Is my life playing out the way I thought it would?"

"OK enough of that," you say. "Let's turn on the radio and the TV, and call somebody on the phone while waiting for the computer to boot up"

As Blaise Pascal, a French mathematician and philosopher, said, "All man's miseries derive from not being able to sit quietly in a room alone." If meditation is so helpful, what is the real reason so many people don't take this beneficial time alone? Could it be they don't like the company?


Lesson: You have the answer; listen quietly for the question.

LET US SPRAY

Jean and I had a log cabin in the Jemez Mountains of New Mexico. It was a place we used to get away from the hustle and bustle of big city Albuquerque. Like anything else worthwhile, it required maintenance. Log maintenance required wood preservative.

To apply the preservative we decided to use a sprayer. Spraying the preservative was basically spraying oil in a windstorm, a disgustingly nauseating, but necessary, task.

I wore goggles, carried the heavy, unwieldy and sticky sprayer and covered myself from head to toe to keep the spray off any part of my body. Next I took a deep breath and sprayed for as long as I, or the sprayer, lasted. Then it was time to pump the sprayer, take a deep breath and go at it again.

After a few rounds I realized I needed to step back and take a time out. I needed time to see that the job was coming out the way I wanted.

I asked myself:

"Have I covered everything I want to cover?"

"Is what I'm doing making a difference?"

"Is it OK to move on?"

What about the big "spray job" of life? Might you need to step back, take a time out. Do you need time to see that everything is coming out the way you wanted?

Ask yourself:

"Have I covered everything I want to cover?"

"Is what I'm doing making a difference?"

"Is it OK to move on?"


Lesson: Life, like a log cabin, requires maintenance.

ME ME ME

You are the Center of the Universe.

A poem I once read said the least important word in the English language is the word "I." Balderdash! "I" is the most important word. The popular saying, "It's not about you," couldn't be more incorrect. It's all about you. How about "No man is an island?" Another dash of balder, of course we are each "islands." No one, and I mean no one, on this earth cares about what happens to you as much as you do. That's all right, after all you are the Center of the Universe.

Skeptics read on.

When people tell you they feel "good," did you ever wonder what their "good" is like? If you were in their body and felt the way they feel when they feel "good," might you be tempted to dial 911?

What does it feel like to them when people tell you they are in pain, hungry or sad. You know how it feels to you when you're in pain. You know what goes on in your innards when you're hungry and in your mind when you're sad. But do others twinge in the same places as you twinge? Are others grabbed in the same place you're grabbed?

You are the Center Of The Universe. Everything that happens in the world is given meaning by you based on your experiences and beliefs. Fred tells you he feels good, you immediately "know" how Fred feels based on how you feel when you feel good. How else could you possibly interpret Fred's condition?

When you walk down the theater aisle to your pricey, front-row seat, the people on your left you would call, "The people on my left." When you leave the theater, the people that you called "the people on my left," would now accurately be called, "The people on my right." The people didn't change sides during the play, but they did in relation to you.

Every way you view the world is in relation to you. Therefore you must be the "center," correct?

Being the Center of the Universe carries with it good news and bad news:
Good news--you're always right
Bad news--the rest of the world doesn't always believe the good
news. (The trick here is to realize that everyone else is also the Center of the Universe!)

You will have made a giant leap forward in living a less stressful and more rewarding life when you realize the truths in life you hold as indisputable are made up by you, judged by you, defended by you, and can therefore be changed by you.


Lesson: Contrary to popular parental precepts, the world does revolve around you.

STRAIGHT FROM THE GURU'S MOUTH

There I was, working from seven in the morning to seven at night and still not getting everything done. I was losing heart as quickly as I was losing ground. No matter if I worked the 12 hours or quit in two hours, there was so much to do I'd never get it done anyway. My job might as well have been emptying the ocean with a bucket.

I was discouraged, disillusioned and just plain tired. I needed some time management help.

Attending seminars, reading books and absorbing videos only put me further behind. Then while watching a documentary on TV (when I probably should have been doing something else), I heard the answer to my problem.

The answer came from that well-know, world-renowned, time management guru -- Arnold Schwartznegger. (We have learned recently just how he was using his "free" time.)

Arnold was telling a story of how in the past when he was a body building champion he was having difficulty finishing his workouts in the 2 1/2 hours he had allotted. They always ran longer. He (unlike me) was aware of the reason. He was a very gregarious person and would get to talking to others in the workout room, and his time would be up before his muscles were.

So Arnold's solution was to set a time limit. In 2 1/2 hours he would be done. There would be no staying longer to finish what he had not accomplished. That provided him with definitive criteria with which to make a decision. "Do I talk to Franco or finish my workout?" Either-or, he didn't have time for both. This worked for Mr. S.

I then decided to apply the Schwartznegger technique. I went to work at 7 a.m. but set 5:30 p.m. as quitting time. Then when a coworker would come to the office and inquire if I had a few minutes, I would ask myself "Could I meet with her and still get out at 5:30?" If so, the meeting was on. If not, we scheduled for the next day. Previously to my Arnold fix, I would have said yes, then added the extra time on the end of the day.

When you view your time as elastic there is a tendency to try to cram 30 hours of work in a 24 hour day. Set logical, attainable expectations, establish a time limit, and stick to it. The ocean may not get emptied, but you'll sure feel better about it.

Thanks, Arnold. You should have stayed with pumping iron.


Lesson: Time is life's currency; spend it selfishly.

TODAY LING-LING SAT ON A PIE

In 1972 the People's Republic of China presented a treasured gift to the people of the United States,

This unique gift was presented to then President Richard Nixon when he visited China in 1972.

This cherished gift was bestowed as a gesture of peace and harmony to our esteemed Leader.

This beloved gift made its home in The National Zoo in Washington DC.

This rare gift was a pair of giant pandas, Ling-Ling and Hsing-Hsing

In 1992 to celebrate 20 years in this country, the prized gifts of Ling-Ling and Hsing-Hsing each were given their favorite treat, Sweet Potato pie.

Ling-Ling, the treasured, unique, cherished, beloved, rare and prized gift bestowed to solidify the relations of two great countries, in all his majesty...

sat on his pie.


Lesson: Sometimes you just gotta do what comes natural.

OH YOU POOR BABY...

Imagine you arrive home about an hour later than usual. You drop your coat on the floor and yourself on the couch. With a concerned look, your politically correct spouse/partner/significant other/companion, observes your glazed appearance and says, "We have to talk. These last couple of months you have been especially uncommunicative with me and the kids. You've been argumentative with the neighbors. You do little else but stare at the TV, and half of the time it's not even on! And you're drinking more than you ever have. What's wrong?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong. My boss won't get off my back; customers are constantly complaining; policies keep changing; rumors about reorganizing are running wild; and all my coworkers have bad attitudes. It's a jungle out there that's why I'm the way I am."

Your s/p/so/c responds, "Oh, you poor baby, have a glass of wine and relax."

"Thank you," you say with a slump and sigh.

Now let's change the scene a bit. You go home at night about an hour later than usual. And drop your coat on the floor and yourself on the couch. Your s/p/so/c comes over to you and says, "We have to talk. These last couple of months you have been especially uncommunicative with me and the kids. You've been argumentative with the neighbors. You do little else but stare at the TV, and half of the time it's not even on! And you're drinking more than you ever have. What's wrong?"

"This time you respond, "I'll tell you what's wrong. My boss won't get off my back; customers are constantly complaining; policies keep changing; rumors about reorganizing are running wild; and all my coworkers have bad attitudes. So I'm choosing to be this loser you see slumped over on the couch. Could you get me another drink please?"

If you do get another drink, it's a good bet that for telling the truth you'll have to get that drink yourself!

Lesson: When you make others responsible you get sympathy, when you make yourself responsible you get control.

BETTER SORRY THAN SAFE

I was in my garage workout room. I had the door open a few feet to let in some air, and the open door also let in our five-year-old neighbor David. I was riding my stationary bike, and David had never seen a stationary bike. He had just learned to ride his two wheeler and had recently removed the training wheels. He had scrapes on his face as proof of that premature act.

He watched me peddling furiously for a couple of minutes and said, "Tom (he's a modern kid), what's that?" I told him, "It's a bike, Dave, but not like your bike. I don't fall off of this one, don't have to ride out in the hot sun, and don't get splashed after a rain. It's neat, isn't it?" He replied, "Yeah, but you're not going anywhere!" (Out of the mouths of babes!) "Sure, Dave, but I'm safe."

Always playing safe is breaking even at the casinos by only playing the change machine. Lots of excitement, commotion, and activity but not much reward.

A sure way to be safe is to never try anything new, but never trying sharply reduces your learning. You're also not advancing toward success, not growing, and not having nearly as much fun as you could have.

Picture this scenario: You're 120 years old sitting in the Old Employees' Home. You're gumming a bagel. At that point in your life would you be most upset over projects you tried that didn't work out or projects that you would like to try but feel you're too old to do? Sure, research and common sense backs up the latter.

During a break at one of my programs, I was speaking to a man who told me a truly disheartening story. He was about 65 years old. He and his older sister were the only ones left in the family. Getting together was infrequent. The last time they began talking about why they don't keep in better touch, they both came to the realization that why they don't write to each other is because both lacked confidence in their spelling and punctuation! When they're 120 years old, what will be more important, their relationship or winning the inter-family spelling bee?

What would you be doing, or not doing, in your personal and/or professional life if you didn't always play safe? What would you be doing if you didn't care about what others thought and if you fully understood the benefits of failure what projects, ideas might you implement? When you're retired from your job, what will you have wished you had done before you left? What are you doing now to make that happen?

Lesson: "Safe" may be a desirable destination, but safe is not where most of us are headed.

FEAR -- A VIABLE OPTION

In Mel Brooks' classic comedy skit, The 2000 Year Old Man, Carl Reiner, asks the old man what the major form of transportation was 2000 years ago. The old man answers, "Fear!"

Fear has been given a bum rap.

Fear keeps you going -- going to a job you might not like, going with a relationship that's less than rewarding, going to the health food store and going to the gym. Fear provides the "transportation" from things you don't want -- unemployment, loneliness, illness, and fat. Not to want something to happen is as good a motivator as to want something to happen. Fear motivates as effectively as desire.

Without good honest fear you'd be quitting your job at the slightest provocation, ending relationships the moment the toothpaste tube is squeezed in the middle, and stuffing down fried peanut butter and honey sandwiches on white bread during an eight hour stint on the couch.

Fear in the proper doses keeps you on the straight and narrow -- but you can overdose on this potentially good thing. Too much fear and you don't do what needs to be done -- leaving the job or the relationship that's draining you, using your leisure time doing the things you enjoy doing.

Fear, both healthy and unhealthy, drives your actions. Where does such a powerful force of nature come from? You're not born carrying a file folder full of fears. Fear is a learned emotion. You learn to fear everything you fear (except fears of falling, loud noises, and a legislature in session). What you have learned, you can unlearn. Unfortunately, when it comes to our fears, we tend to learn quickly and unlearn slowly.

You can't fear the past. Fear is a future thing, and since the future is all in your head, fear must be a head thing.

You're responsible for allowing in your head the amount of fear that stops you from crossing a busy street blindfolded and for blocking out the fear that keeps you in the house altogether. A rich, exciting, and vibrant life is the balance between productive and destructive fears -- your choice.


Lesson: Fear doesn't come as part of the human package, you add it as an option.

MR. FIX-IT

In 1985 Jean and I moved from Chicago to Albuquerque, New Mexico. That was a great year. The next year the kids found us. Our excitement tapered off a bit, but we still knew the Southwest was for us. When we arrived in Albuquerque, we bought a house and had a swimming pool installed.

We had our pool, deck chairs, table, umbrella and pool toys, but something was missing -- a shelf. We needed a shelf mounted outside of the kitchen window. On that shelf we could put party items like blue corn chips with salsa and being health nuts, the juice of several margaritas.

We asked our neighbors for a recommendation for someone to furnish and install the shelf. Their recommendation -- Mr. Fix-It. Despite the dorky name, we gave him a call. An appointment was set.

Mr. Fix-It arrived, right on time, and much to my surprise (the first of many), Mr. Fix-It, the handyman/carpenter, was dressed like my version of an English professor. I explained our shelf needs and asked for an estimate.

As we walked around to the backyard, Fix (I felt I knew him well enough by that time to call him by his first name) asked me more questions about how we use a backyard than the real estate agent asked during the entire home-buying process. He took measurements, asked a few more questions, and gave me an estimate.

Since I didn't want to seem too easy, I said I'd get back to him with our answer. As a result of his previous probing questions, he got me thinking about other things, like where we were going to store the chemicals, hoses, covers, all the miscellaneous pool paraphernalia. Really into this spending money thing, I asked him for an estimate on a couple of additional cabinets.

Consider how a man calling himself a handyman/carpenter might react to that "buying signal." Fix said, "Mr. Payne, you told me you have not enjoyed a summer by your pool as yet, so I would like to make a suggestion. Before you invest additional money in cabinets, spend a summer, use your backyard, and use your pool. After you have lived with what you have for a season, if you still feel you would like cabinets, you'll have a better idea of how many and where they would be most conveniently located."

I told him waiting to order additional cabinets sounded perfectly logical (although unexpected from a handyman/carpenter), and we would be getting back to him on the shelf quote.

As we walked to his van, I saw the reason for Mr.Fix-It's rather unconventional behavior. On the side of his van in large letters read: Mr. Fix-It. That, of course, was no surprise, but under the large letters was written the reason Mr. Fix-It showed up exactly on time, the reason he dressed and spoke as he did, the reason he asked the questions he did, the reason he responded to my not-too- well-thought-out request as he did, and the reason I'm writing this story. The entire message read:

Mr. Fix-It
Adjustments to Human Environment

Mr. Fix-It didn't see himself as a handyman/carpenter, he saw himself as an "adjuster of human environment" and behaved as someone committed to adjusting human environment would behave. How might he have behaved if on the side of his van was written:

Mr. Fix-It
Net $100,000 This Year

If he believed his purpose to be netting $100,000 this year, you can bet I would have had cabinets over every square inch of the backyard that wasn't water!

Lesson: In the long run you will act in harmony with what you believe. Be
sure you know what you believe.

THE FUTURE DOESN'T THE PAST MAKE

You can only experience things for the first time once.

The reason for that obvious and gnarly statement is that you can never approach something "clean" the second time around. Through filters of the first time is the way you "reapproach" any person, place, event or experience. You apply to all areas of your life a future that's based on the past.

How do you know if future changes in your life will benefit you or cause you to slobber uncontrollably on your shirt? In truth you don't KNOW, but you have a definite belief based on your prior experiences.

Since viewing your future through the lens of the past is natural, it's worth taking a good look at what beliefs from your past life (lives?) you're allowing to create that future. Your past beliefs have gotten you to where you are. Your beliefs are and should be a major input into future decisions. However your beliefs can not, and should not, be firmly locked in concrete like Jimmy Hoffa.

Think of your beliefs as a wall of safety deposit boxes--all yours.

These boxes are different from the standard, bank-assigned, safe-deposit boxes. They do not contain your run-of-the-mill odds and ends like stock certificates, rare coins, wills, and one half million in unmarked bills. These boxes contain something important. They contain your beliefs.

Each box contains a past belief you hold concerning a specific issue. When your present life's experiences lead you to a new belief concerning that issue, and you go to store the new belief, you quickly realize the box is not big enough for two conflicting beliefs so you toss out your past belief, and deposit your current, new belief.

This concept of conflicting beliefs is worth expanding upon. You cannot hold two conflicting beliefs at the same moment. Your "boxes" are just not big enough. And since the belief you choose to deposit, old or new, drives your future behaviors, which ultimately drive your life's results, which belief you choose to stuff in your metaphorical safe-deposit box is a critical choice.

Lesson: The past got you to where you are now, but it doesn't have to take you to where you're going.

LEARNER, LEARNER YOUR FUTURE'S ON FIRE

Peanuts cartoon:

The character, Rerun, was hiding under a bed. Lucy asked if he's coming to school. Rerun said "no" because, he exclaimed, the teacher was sarcastic to him. The teacher had asked him if he thought he had "learned everything he needed to know." Lucy, being Lucy, queried "Well, do you think you've learned everything you need to know?" Rerun replied, "I think I've learned everything I need to know to live under a bed."

Rerun's philosophy, at this stage of his young life appears to be, "If I'm going to live under a bed for the rest of my life, what is the sense of learning anything more? Logical, but somewhat flawed, thinking

Maybe today all he needs to learn is what's necessary to live "under a bed," but tomorrow he may find himself "under a dresser." Does he know how to live under a dresser, or does he only have "under the bed" skills?

I remember attending a then live concert by the now dead Jim Croce.

He was a gifted songwriter, minstrel and between-songs philosopher. That evening he spoke of his college experiences and said, "During four years of college I took philosophy, psychology, sociology, all of these "ologies," and I came out totally prepared for life in the 12th century."

If you don't learn how to learn, you will be, just as surely as the terminally inconvenienced Mr. Croce or the dust bunny covered Rerun, preparing for life under a bed in the 12th century. You'll find yourself able to function quite well in a world that has ceased to exist.

For those who use statistics to generate personal excitement, try these: 95 percent of what you use daily is learned after you leave school. Every five years 50 percent of what you know becomes obsolete. Doesn't say much for stagnant learning does it?

If you don't buy those statistics, and believe you have all the education you'll ever need with your high school, college or college plus degrees, try this little exercise. Dredge up the report card from your last year of formal education. See if you even remember taking a particular course, much less what was taught in that class. How would you do if you took a test today on the material you were exposed to in your last year of school?

With the high obsolescence rate of your knowledge you obviously can't rely on "used learning." Therefore continuous learning is critical at all stages of life. But of the gabillion things there are to learn, what specifically do YOU need to learn? Selective learning is no easy task considering you have very little idea of what you should select to learn.

No matter how well you have planned your life, your life has a life of its own and that life is full of surprises of all sizes. What do you need to learn when your spouse runs off with the circus? Didn't plan on that I bet. How about a job loss; quadruplets; lottery winning; hemorrhoids; aging?

It is one heck of a challenge to prepare for a life that has never been lived before. Will life hide you under the bed or stick you on the top shelf?

Lesson: Learn something everyday; you're never sure what you'll need to know or when you'll need to know it.

IS GOOD GOOD ENOUGH?

Growing up in a middle-class neighborhood, getting B- grades in school, being chosen 5th out of 11 for the block football team, being promoted with peers, being in the top 40 percent in income, having 2.5 children, living in a house costing $10,000 more than the median.

That's all good, right? Yes, but that much good can be bad.

When what you have is desired by 3/4 of the world's population, your drive to improve is weakened, because not much more is expected of you. If as a kid you were consistently picked 11 out of 11, a desire may have been triggered to "show them" by improving so to became more wanted by the others. Or you might say, "the heck with it," and never play football again. Being picked 5th is good -- good enough.

When making $5000 more in yearly income than you ever dreamed you would make is good, where is the incentive to exceed your dream by even more? It takes significant effort and energy to move to the next level in life. When you are hurting, miserable and down, that effort becomes worth making. When your life is "good," that effort is often seen as not worth expending.

Frequently in stories of successful people, we read of their disadvantaged background or possibly they came from great wealth and managed to keep and/or increase their fortune. How much do you read about successful people who started out just a tad above average? Either they don't make good copy or there are not too many of them.

I believe climbing to the top from the bottom is easier than climbing from the middle to the top.


Lesson: The major obstacle to being great tomorrow is being good today.

OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF DOGS

Our big, old Lab Lucky loved to chase rabbits. This dog chasing rabbits was not as pretty a picture as you might think. Lucky had heart disease, a severely enlarged heart (in more ways than one) which was not working well enough to pump waste fluids from his body. The vet, in telling us about the situation, said Lucky probably should rest as much as possible. We decided not to share that news with Lucky and let him do what comes naturally. He wanted to chase rabbits. We knew that he may die doing just that, but meanwhile he would enjoy his life. His body may place limitations on him in the future, but in the present his dog brain was not telling him he "can't."

Animals, being a lower form of being than humans (in most cases), know precisely what they can and can't do--"I can lick myself all over, but I can't drive a car in heavy traffic."

"Can't" is a contraction for can not, which literally means impossible. We all have many reasons we can't. Some of our "can'ts" are actualities-- mental or physical impossibilities like that licking all over thing. Others have no basis in reality. Have you ever heard anyone say "Oh! I can't drive in heavy traffic." Chances are they can, the truth is they choose not to.

The Luckys of this world can be a reminder to us to separate the real impossibilities from the limitations we place on ourselves just to keep comfortable and safe. Remember there is no complete comfort or safety, but there is a lot of fun, excitement and thrills to be missed when we mistakenly substitute "I can't" for "I don't choose to."

I have noticed over the years that, beside can't, there are other words thankfully missing from our horses', dogs' and cats' vocabulary. Power depleting words and phrases like; "Never," "It's not fair," "Have to," "That's just me," "I've always been that way," I can't help it," and "That's just my nature."

We humans are the only ones of God's creatures who not only know their limitations but will also limit themselves without any logical reason to do so.

While Lucky has since chased his last rabbit over the Rainbow Bridge we know one thing, we can forget him we just don't choose to.

Lesson: "I can't" is a contraction in life as well as in language.

BURNT BY THE MIDNIGHT OIL

Does it seem like the light at the end of the tunnel is painted on?

Long hours at work were never a problem for the majority of workers I've known. They were willing to give of their "free" time to help the organization through some tough periods. That was then, this is now.

The 10 to 12 hour days will not last. But rather than going back to eight hours (the light at the end of the tunnel), the time is more likely to go to 14. Why?

In a survey quoted in USA TODAY, people were asked why they are working more hours today than they worked five years ago. The answers: 38 percent said it was "expected of them," 37 percent said they "enjoyed it" (God bless them), and 25 percent said there's "more work to do." I may be naive, but shouldn't "more work to do" account for 100%? If there's not more work to do, what do they expect you to do and what is it you enjoy doing?

I'm willing to go out on a limb here and say that the majority of people who consistently work long hours are doing so because they are afraid. Workers are afraid of the negative consequence leaving work and getting home at a decent hour will have on their performance appraisal, and ultimately their security. Organizations, relying on this twisted thought process, with an eye on the bottom line, would be foolish not to continue to push for 14 hours of work for eight hours of pay.

If you identify with anything you just read, commit to take control of your existence now before burnout rots the very foundation of your personal life and robs your organization of its most creative, dedicated, loyal and bottom-line-enhancing resource -- [fill in your name].


Lesson: Work when there is work to be done. Play when there is play to be done.

WAS PLEASURE, IS PAIN

Think of your cute, little, seven-year-old, darling self.

In your memory, were you happier, more spontaneous, more creative, innovative, honest, more trusting, more self confident than you are now? Were you less tense, less anxious, less skeptical, less frustrated, less concerned with change or failure? Were you less stressed?

What happened?

Remember, as a kid, the fun of the first, big snowfall, holidays, birthdays, vacations? Do you enjoy them as much since you've become your big, old, mature self?

What happened? Life happened.

You learned the big snowfall brings snow shoveling and traffic jams. Holidays bring family out of the woodwork and the closet. Vacations, you do double work before, double work after, spend the first half winding down and the last half gearing up.

Through these experiences of your life you've learned to react differently to events than you might have reacted the first time you experienced them. It's important to remember, the events didn't change. Snow is snow, holidays are holidays and vacations are vacations.

Which reactions then are correct? Are snowfalls, holidays, vacations a scourge from hell or a blessing from heaven? Yes, and they don't give a rat's which way you view them!

Events just are. If at one point they were acceptable to you, and now they're not acceptable, it's obvious the event didn't change; you did. You have learned and chosen to let events over which you have little or no control drive you nuts. If you don't like now what you did like then and continue to do what you don't like now and did like then, you've got work to do.

If you want to get back the pure childish pleasure you felt when you first experienced snow, holidays and vacations and the like, you have to "unlearn" the bad and remember the good.

An old East Indian saying: "All the struggle to learn and all we have to do is remember." Pretty clever old East Indian, eh?


Lesson: Events have no feelings attached to them; that's your job.

WHAT WILL THEY SAY?

A TV report about a tragic accident at a local high school got me to thinking.

A student crossing the street in front of the school was hit and killed by a car driven by another student. In an attempt to boost ratings by appealing to the morbid curiosity of the general public, the reporter stuck a microphone in the shocked faces of the grieving student witnesses and asked them to describe their friend who had just been killed. The curious answers were, "He was very respectful. He wasn't the kind who'd try to start fights. He would just try to get along and be nice." And, "He was your basic, all-around student. He wasn't into drugs or anything".

Do those on-the-spot eulogies sound strange?

"He was a great kid. He wasn't a mass murder or anything."

Maybe it's just me, but I don't expect a kid to start fights or to do drugs. Are antisocial behaviors so much a part of our young people's world that people are defined by their absence? Is our society at a point when someone abstains from deviant behavior, we find that newsworthy?

The words used to describe people may say as much about the times we live in as the people we're describing. What will they say about you when you're moving on to life--phase 2?

"He was a good guy, never cheated on his income taxes and almost never cheated on his wife."

"She was a loyal employee, didn't lie or steal hardly anything."

"What a great cousin, never knocked my teeth down my throat with a baseball bat."


Lesson: Be so much there is little room for what you're not.

A MURPHY METAPHOR MOMENT

Murphy, the dog, liked to hike with us in the mountains. Murphy also liked to jump in mud up to his neck and accompanied by the inevitable sucking sound, Murphy would leap out and rapidly roll in the nearest pile of fresh animal droppings. In that "earthy" condition, Murphy would come up to us, eyes caked and twinkling, begging to be petted. Murphy was a dog oblivious to the theory of cause and effect, among many other things.

Unfortunately Murphy is not the only animal struggling with cause and effect. This is a concept seeming very difficult to grasp for the human animal also. Examples from my sparsely populated home state of New Mexico:

o A lady in Albuquerque spilled hot coffee in her lap, sued McDonalds and was awarded $2 million plus which was eventually reduced to approximately $600,000. (What would you spill in your lap for $600,000? Battery acid comes to my mind.)

o A former medical student sued University of New Mexico contending the school, under the Americans With Disabilities Act, didn't make reasonable accommodations for his disability. His disability -- test anxiety! His suit stated he suffers from an anxiety disorder. (A doctor with an anxiety disorder?)

o A gambler (apparently not a very good one) sued the Indian gaming casinos for loss of his money and his marriage. Said he couldn't resist gambling so the casinos shouldn't have been there to tempt him.

o A high school football player was arrested for running 35 yards across the field and blindsiding a referee who had tossed him out for unsportsmanlike conduct only minutes before. The boy's mother explained to the press her son was not at fault; it was the fault of the authorities who let him play when he was tired.

For all too many people, they do everything to create the cause and fight with every ounce of their strength against accepting the inevitable effect their cause created. You spill coffee, you get burned, You flunk enough tests, you fail. You gamble long enough, you lose. You cold cock a referee in front of a hundred people, you get punished. Why should someone else pay for the effect of your cause?

If you, like Murphy the dog, insist on rolling in it, others shouldn't have to suffer because you're not getting petted.


Lesson: You reap what you sow, but don't expect somebody else to eat it.

SECOND HAND SMOKE

Two days before Christmas the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, chestnuts were roasting on an open fire, sugarplums were head-dancing, and our dogs were tearing apart a little, gray kitten.

'Tis the season.

Living in a more rural area sometimes we unintentionally play host to families of feral cats, this was one of those times--we were not very good hosts.

My son Dave was home for Christmas, and he and his mother were playing in the snow. The tranquility of the moment was disturbed when they saw (and heard) the kitten being worked over pretty well by two of our otherwise friendly dogs, who must have thought they had received an early Christmas present.

Extricating the dog-spit-covered feline was a trick in itself, but the dogs didn't stand a chance against Jean's maternal instincts. The dogs lost their present, and we gained a second cat.

Smokey the cat is now twelve years old, an indoor cat, well-fed, warm and loved. For Smokey to go from very perilous existence in the wild to a protected life in our home he had to go through being used as a pull toy by creatures fifteen times his weight.

To go from what you are now to what you can become, do you also have to be metaphorically pulled apart by the big dogs of life?

Sadly for many of us, that's the case. Smokey would never have experienced the solace in Jean's arms if being held by a human hadn't been infinitely better than the pain of being chomped on by large, canine incisors.

To leave what you currently have, staying must be too painful. That is the root reason anyone would choose to change. As long as you perceive what you have now to be less painful than facing the "dogs" guarding your brighter future, you ain't goin' nowhere.

If Smokey could only have reasoned that once he got through this dog thing, the rest of his life would be better, he might have gone looking for the dogs.

How are you different from Smokey the cat?

To change your job requires facing the dogs of interviews, working with strangers, new policies and procedures and a chance of failure.

To change your house requires facing the dogs of paperwork, meeting new neighbors, leaving old neighbors, arranging for furniture moving, new grocery stores, additional financial obligations.

To change a relationship requires facing the dogs of tears, meeting new people, self-doubt, additional financial obligations and a chance of failure.

Look at all the good things you have in your life and think about the dogs you had to face to get them. Don't leave an even greater future unexplored. Grab a box of treats, a can of citronella spray and wade through the pack.


Lesson: Sometimes to get what's best, we have to experience what's worse.

TICK TOCK

On the TV show ER, a couple in their 80s are stage center. The man is dying, the wife asks concerned Doctor Carter, "How much longer?" Doctor C says, "A few more minutes." Woman sobs in stunned and saddened disbelief, stares at Carter with a look in her eyes that rips your heart out and mumbles numbly, "Only a few more minutes?"

Sixty years of loving togetherness for that man and his wife came down to only a "few more minutes."

There comes a time for all of us when our relationship with those we love will be over in just "a few more minutes." The difference between most of us and the TV characters is they knew which minutes would be their "few more."

Given this finality fact of earthly relationships, should you then be kind, tender, warm, devoted and giving to your loved ones every single minute of every single day? Commendable, yes, but just as certainly unattainable, and in many ways, undesirable. (How would you like to spend a serious amount of time with someone who treated you as if you were going to croak any minute?)

Here rests our earthly dilemma. You shouldn't treat others as if they are going to die before lunch because 99.99 percent of the time you will be wrong. But if you're not treating them the best you know how when their few minutes are indeed up, you beat yourself upside the head with the guilt stick. "I was going to call Aunt Lenore last night but I watched ER instead. Now she's dead, I'm a terrible person."

It would seem to be a part of our human makeup when someone close to us dies to feel we didn't "do enough," "weren't there for them," "didn't say what we wanted to say," yada yada. Get over it. The odds are against us always doing the right thing at the right time.

A loving relationship is a balancing act of living daily with the humanness brought to that relationship. A loving relationship is the times you called Aunt Lenore twice in a day blended with the times you didn't call at all. Death as well as life is a game without rules. You can't judge the quality of a relationship on the last "few minutes." But you definitely could hold yourself accountable for all the years, months, weeks, hours and minutes before the last few.

When you have treated your loved ones the best you know how for 99.99 percent of the time, the last few minutes are just the last few minutes.


Lesson: Enjoy others as if they will live forever, and love them as if they only have a few more minutes.