"Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." Confucius
He was grumbling about some co-workers. "I'm not taking anymore of this," he said. "I'm going to start treating people the way they treat me." I didn't get all the details, but I heard him loud and clear. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Now I've heard it said that those kind of guys finish last. Certainly if people are taking advantage of you, you need to put an end to that. I am a big believer in healthy boundaries.
Say please and thank you. Don't push and shove. Wait your turn. Don't hit. Share your toys. Young children understand the rules of getting along with others, even if they don't always observe them. They also become indignant if they obey the rules and others don't. It's not fair! If someone messes with them, they retaliate.
Getting back at someone, giving them a taste of their own medicine, can be tempting. Do you give other people what they deserve? Do you treat other people well because of who they are, or because of who YOU are?
Susan
Thursday, March 10, 2011
What Goes Down, Must Go Up
"Do you wish to rise? Begin by descending. You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? Lay first the foundation of humility." Saint Augustine
All great people have some things in common. The truly great person is self-aware. He is humble, meaning that he knows where his talents lie and he also knows his limitations. He seeks out help and advice when needed. He is a leader, but he has no problem following the right people. He doesn't surround himself with bobbleheads who will always nod in agreement. The great person has no problem being challenged. He avoids tunnel vision by welcoming the perspective and opinions of others. He has no problem rolling up his sleeves and doing the dirty work, but he also knows how to delegate. He assembles a group of the brightest and the best, but avoids micromanaging them. He can do this because he's not at all intimidated by other great people.
I once worked for a woman who was great. She was the first one in the office in the morning, and the last one to leave at night. She modeled hard work and dedication. I trusted her because she knew the workings of our department inside and out, and I respected her because of her work ethic. I gave her 110% percent every day because her leadership inspired me to be the best possible follower.
Great people make great things happen. Once a dream begins to unfold, it often brings with it an opportunity to show humility. It's not humiliation; there is a difference. The truly great person is willing to make sacrifices to see her dream realized. She has no problem living simply, doing without some luxuries, waiting tables or sweeping floors. No illusions of grandeur occupy her mind, because she has a clear understanding of what it takes to succeed. She is determined and will not be denied. The dream is such a part of the fabric of her being that she is more than willing to pay her dues. When she reaches the top, she will always acknowledge the other folks who helped her get there, and will be thankful for the lucky breaks she got along the way.
Some people have a false pride that inhibits them from doing what it takes to build that tower that will pierce the sky. They won't lower themselves to grubby tasks. It's just too humiliating. These people are not great. They miss the entire point of greatness, which is simply this. To go up, you must first go down.
Susan
All great people have some things in common. The truly great person is self-aware. He is humble, meaning that he knows where his talents lie and he also knows his limitations. He seeks out help and advice when needed. He is a leader, but he has no problem following the right people. He doesn't surround himself with bobbleheads who will always nod in agreement. The great person has no problem being challenged. He avoids tunnel vision by welcoming the perspective and opinions of others. He has no problem rolling up his sleeves and doing the dirty work, but he also knows how to delegate. He assembles a group of the brightest and the best, but avoids micromanaging them. He can do this because he's not at all intimidated by other great people.
I once worked for a woman who was great. She was the first one in the office in the morning, and the last one to leave at night. She modeled hard work and dedication. I trusted her because she knew the workings of our department inside and out, and I respected her because of her work ethic. I gave her 110% percent every day because her leadership inspired me to be the best possible follower.
Great people make great things happen. Once a dream begins to unfold, it often brings with it an opportunity to show humility. It's not humiliation; there is a difference. The truly great person is willing to make sacrifices to see her dream realized. She has no problem living simply, doing without some luxuries, waiting tables or sweeping floors. No illusions of grandeur occupy her mind, because she has a clear understanding of what it takes to succeed. She is determined and will not be denied. The dream is such a part of the fabric of her being that she is more than willing to pay her dues. When she reaches the top, she will always acknowledge the other folks who helped her get there, and will be thankful for the lucky breaks she got along the way.
Some people have a false pride that inhibits them from doing what it takes to build that tower that will pierce the sky. They won't lower themselves to grubby tasks. It's just too humiliating. These people are not great. They miss the entire point of greatness, which is simply this. To go up, you must first go down.
Susan
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Trivial Pursuit
"A weak mind is like a microscope, which magnifies trifling things, and cannot receive great ones." Lord Chesterfield
I always know when he is doing some house cleaning. I open my email and see several from him, and all the subject lines start with "Fwd:" Jokes, dire warnings, tear jerking stories, pictures of adorable bunnies, kittens and puppies. Then there's the 21st century version of the chain letter. Send your favorite recipe to ten people within the hour and your greatest wish will be granted. I joked with him about it, and now it's escalated. I imagine him cleaning out his inbox and chuckling as he forwards this stuff to me, having a little fun at my expense.
Now I adore fluffy kittens just as much as the next person, and I've never been one to turn down a new recipe. But let's get serious. If you're not carefully organized, you can find that your inbox is so flooded with junk that you miss the emails that truly are important.
Trivia can really clog up our thought life as well. We make too much out of the daily annoyances. We take offense at a comment that was not intended that way, magnifying it way out of proportion. Then there's the careless driver who cuts us off in traffic. She probably never even saw us, but instead of patting ourselves on the back for driving defensively, we fuss and fume over that. We hear some gossip and talk and think about something that frankly is not even any of our business. We become overly invested in the lives of celebrities we have never met. And don't even get me started on how the person who bags the groceries always seems to put the bread in the bottom of the bag. Distracted and agitated, we don't have the time or calm energy to quietly meditate or pray. To listen to some inspiring music, to read something worthwhile. To paint or write a poem, to create something delicious in the kitchen. To have a positive conversation about something other than the weather.
Our minds are such marvelous things, and our thoughts can enrich our lives and the lives of those around us. But not if we are caught up in the pursuit of trivia.
Susan
I always know when he is doing some house cleaning. I open my email and see several from him, and all the subject lines start with "Fwd:" Jokes, dire warnings, tear jerking stories, pictures of adorable bunnies, kittens and puppies. Then there's the 21st century version of the chain letter. Send your favorite recipe to ten people within the hour and your greatest wish will be granted. I joked with him about it, and now it's escalated. I imagine him cleaning out his inbox and chuckling as he forwards this stuff to me, having a little fun at my expense.
Now I adore fluffy kittens just as much as the next person, and I've never been one to turn down a new recipe. But let's get serious. If you're not carefully organized, you can find that your inbox is so flooded with junk that you miss the emails that truly are important.
Trivia can really clog up our thought life as well. We make too much out of the daily annoyances. We take offense at a comment that was not intended that way, magnifying it way out of proportion. Then there's the careless driver who cuts us off in traffic. She probably never even saw us, but instead of patting ourselves on the back for driving defensively, we fuss and fume over that. We hear some gossip and talk and think about something that frankly is not even any of our business. We become overly invested in the lives of celebrities we have never met. And don't even get me started on how the person who bags the groceries always seems to put the bread in the bottom of the bag. Distracted and agitated, we don't have the time or calm energy to quietly meditate or pray. To listen to some inspiring music, to read something worthwhile. To paint or write a poem, to create something delicious in the kitchen. To have a positive conversation about something other than the weather.
Our minds are such marvelous things, and our thoughts can enrich our lives and the lives of those around us. But not if we are caught up in the pursuit of trivia.
Susan
Monday, March 7, 2011
Show and Tell
"The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them." Maya Angelou
His supervisor seemed to dislike him right off the bat. He was hired by someone higher up in the company, and for whatever reason he and his new boss just did not hit it off. "He really has it in for me," is what he told me as he enumerated some of the fault-finding that was going on.
Is it human nature that when we dislike someone, we look for all kinds of things to support our theory? The reverse is also true. Once we decide we like or love a person, it's almost like our pride is at stake and we want our good judgment validated. So we look for the good stuff and ignore the bad, to our own peril.
Time and time again I have heard honest people look back on a failed friendship, business relationship or marriage. With the 20/20 vision of hindsight, they will say that they saw the first sign that something was terribly wrong very early on, but ignored it.
Don Draper, a character in my favorite television show "Mad Men" said it best. "People tell us who they are and we ignore it, because we want them to be who we want them to be."
Susan
His supervisor seemed to dislike him right off the bat. He was hired by someone higher up in the company, and for whatever reason he and his new boss just did not hit it off. "He really has it in for me," is what he told me as he enumerated some of the fault-finding that was going on.
Is it human nature that when we dislike someone, we look for all kinds of things to support our theory? The reverse is also true. Once we decide we like or love a person, it's almost like our pride is at stake and we want our good judgment validated. So we look for the good stuff and ignore the bad, to our own peril.
Time and time again I have heard honest people look back on a failed friendship, business relationship or marriage. With the 20/20 vision of hindsight, they will say that they saw the first sign that something was terribly wrong very early on, but ignored it.
Don Draper, a character in my favorite television show "Mad Men" said it best. "People tell us who they are and we ignore it, because we want them to be who we want them to be."
Susan
To Pink and Back
(Friend and fellow blogger Loudmouth Birdie told me I should write a post titled "To Pink and Back." So I did. Thanks, Birdie!)
I drive a pink VW Beetle. Like her owner, Pink is a girly girl. But she's not just a pretty face. She's safe and strong, can parallel park like nobody's business, and gets great gas mileage. I obey the speed limits, but if you challenged Pink and me to a race, you'd lose because she is a turbo. Super fast! Upon meeting Pink for the first time, a friend exclaimed, "That car looks just like you!" I take that as a compliment.
I negotiated to get the price I wanted for Pink. I have no problem stating what I want. I could have walked away from the deal at any time. I can be tough when the situation calls for it. On more than one occasion I have been told I think like a man. I take that as a compliment.
When I was born in 1958, gender roles were pretty rigid. Blue was for boys and pink was for girls. Women stayed in the home and men went out to work. Then a little something called equal pay for equal work became law, bras were burned, men were blamed for way more than they were guilty of, women flooded the workplace, feeling compelled to dress like men and act like men. It was a little crazy for a while.
My older son is a stay-at-home dad. We live in a world that allows him that wonderful experience. It's likely dads of previous generations would have enjoyed spending more time with the kids, but society told them that real men don't do that. His wife is the sole breadwinner, but that in no way diminishes her as a mom and as a woman. He does a wonderful job nurturing the kids, but that doesn't make him less of a man. I think it makes him more of one.
The pendulum swung from one extreme to another, and is now back in the middle. A place of sanity, where men can be men and women can be women. But mostly, where we can all just be human.
Susan
I drive a pink VW Beetle. Like her owner, Pink is a girly girl. But she's not just a pretty face. She's safe and strong, can parallel park like nobody's business, and gets great gas mileage. I obey the speed limits, but if you challenged Pink and me to a race, you'd lose because she is a turbo. Super fast! Upon meeting Pink for the first time, a friend exclaimed, "That car looks just like you!" I take that as a compliment.
I negotiated to get the price I wanted for Pink. I have no problem stating what I want. I could have walked away from the deal at any time. I can be tough when the situation calls for it. On more than one occasion I have been told I think like a man. I take that as a compliment.
When I was born in 1958, gender roles were pretty rigid. Blue was for boys and pink was for girls. Women stayed in the home and men went out to work. Then a little something called equal pay for equal work became law, bras were burned, men were blamed for way more than they were guilty of, women flooded the workplace, feeling compelled to dress like men and act like men. It was a little crazy for a while.
My older son is a stay-at-home dad. We live in a world that allows him that wonderful experience. It's likely dads of previous generations would have enjoyed spending more time with the kids, but society told them that real men don't do that. His wife is the sole breadwinner, but that in no way diminishes her as a mom and as a woman. He does a wonderful job nurturing the kids, but that doesn't make him less of a man. I think it makes him more of one.
The pendulum swung from one extreme to another, and is now back in the middle. A place of sanity, where men can be men and women can be women. But mostly, where we can all just be human.
Susan
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Emergency Exit
He told of a family trip to Disneyland when he was a boy. One of his brothers didn't like scary rides, but got in line with the other siblings for Space Mountain. But he never rode it, because just before it was his turn to get on, he went out the chicken exit. Those of us listening to this tale laughed because we had never heard of the emergency exit being called the chicken exit.
I have found that whenever I am ready to do something scary, there is always a chicken exit. I can dream, hope, work, and along with the opportunity to live my dream comes an opportunity to not take it. A convenient reason or excuse to not get on the ride. To turn away. When I was 24, I decided to leave my hometown and drive across the country to a new life. My penny-pinching boss at the last minute offered me a generous raise to stay. It was my chicken exit. I could have changed my mind. It was a legitimate offer, and it would have been the perfect excuse for me to stay. I was moving to a place I'd never even seen and there was no job waiting for me there. I had saved enough money to last a month once I arrived. I could have chosen the security over the unknown. I told him no thanks. My sister predicted I would be back in six months. That was 28 years ago.
Dreams are personal to the extreme. There is no bigger, stronger person who will force me against my will to get on the ride. I can take the chicken exit if I want. It's right there. Obvious with its large red letters, "EMERGENCY EXIT." It's the easy way out, a last-minute test of the will and a question. Do I really want to live my dream? I think if I don't chicken out at that point, it just may be that I have what it takes to make that dream come true.
Glancing at the exit, stomach queasy and knees weak, I get on the ride.
Susan
I have found that whenever I am ready to do something scary, there is always a chicken exit. I can dream, hope, work, and along with the opportunity to live my dream comes an opportunity to not take it. A convenient reason or excuse to not get on the ride. To turn away. When I was 24, I decided to leave my hometown and drive across the country to a new life. My penny-pinching boss at the last minute offered me a generous raise to stay. It was my chicken exit. I could have changed my mind. It was a legitimate offer, and it would have been the perfect excuse for me to stay. I was moving to a place I'd never even seen and there was no job waiting for me there. I had saved enough money to last a month once I arrived. I could have chosen the security over the unknown. I told him no thanks. My sister predicted I would be back in six months. That was 28 years ago.
Dreams are personal to the extreme. There is no bigger, stronger person who will force me against my will to get on the ride. I can take the chicken exit if I want. It's right there. Obvious with its large red letters, "EMERGENCY EXIT." It's the easy way out, a last-minute test of the will and a question. Do I really want to live my dream? I think if I don't chicken out at that point, it just may be that I have what it takes to make that dream come true.
Glancing at the exit, stomach queasy and knees weak, I get on the ride.
Susan
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Checking Your Bags
"Forgiveness means giving up all hope of a better past." Lily Tomlin
One of the recent changes to air travel is that most airlines charge fees for checked bags. I was amused the last time I flew, because passengers tried to skirt around this by attempting to carry on big bags. But the airline was on to that. As we stood in line to board at the gate, an announcement over the intercom warned us that those bags would have to be checked. They gave us time so passengers could get their reading glasses or medications, things they really needed for the journey, out of the bags before they had to hand them over. In a matter-of-fact way, airline personnel walked down the line with tags in hand, smiling professionally and offering reassuring words. But it was very clear. If you wanted to board the flight, you would have to check those bags.
How we love to hold on to our stuff. We all carry around some baggage. No way can you reach adulthood without some bad experiences holding you back and holding you down. Some have more baggage than others. Some of us hold on to our bags with white knuckles, daring the world to pry it out of our hands.
A friend asks you to accompany her to a new exercise class. She tells you it's really fun. You open your baggage and look around. "I was always the last one chosen for dodgeball. I'm not athletic. People might laugh at me. Besides, I hate to exercise." You don't get that job you applied for, and you dejectedly pull that big suitcase out. "Anytime I put myself out there I always get slapped down. Why even try?" You feel rejected, but at the same time there is some kind of sick satisfaction you find in being right once again. Someone says something rude to you that smarts, and you rummage around your bag. There it is! You knew it was in there somewhere. "My father always spoke to me that way," you think.
To me, forgiveness is not about pretending it didn't happen, pretending it wasn't wrong, pretending it didn't hurt you, pretending other people are actually sorry for what they did. It's about going through your baggage and seeing what's there, and then letting it go. Easier said than done, I know. The help of a therapist can be invaluable in this process. It might take you some time to loosen that death grip you have on your baggage. No one will pry your fingers off your bag. You have to willingly give it up.
But I have some great news for you. The flight is ready to take off! You won't be on it unless you let go of that baggage. Do you actually want to go on that journey? Do you really want to fly, to soar high above those beautiful clouds to an exciting new destination? Then you know what to do. But the choice is yours.
Susan
One of the recent changes to air travel is that most airlines charge fees for checked bags. I was amused the last time I flew, because passengers tried to skirt around this by attempting to carry on big bags. But the airline was on to that. As we stood in line to board at the gate, an announcement over the intercom warned us that those bags would have to be checked. They gave us time so passengers could get their reading glasses or medications, things they really needed for the journey, out of the bags before they had to hand them over. In a matter-of-fact way, airline personnel walked down the line with tags in hand, smiling professionally and offering reassuring words. But it was very clear. If you wanted to board the flight, you would have to check those bags.
How we love to hold on to our stuff. We all carry around some baggage. No way can you reach adulthood without some bad experiences holding you back and holding you down. Some have more baggage than others. Some of us hold on to our bags with white knuckles, daring the world to pry it out of our hands.
A friend asks you to accompany her to a new exercise class. She tells you it's really fun. You open your baggage and look around. "I was always the last one chosen for dodgeball. I'm not athletic. People might laugh at me. Besides, I hate to exercise." You don't get that job you applied for, and you dejectedly pull that big suitcase out. "Anytime I put myself out there I always get slapped down. Why even try?" You feel rejected, but at the same time there is some kind of sick satisfaction you find in being right once again. Someone says something rude to you that smarts, and you rummage around your bag. There it is! You knew it was in there somewhere. "My father always spoke to me that way," you think.
To me, forgiveness is not about pretending it didn't happen, pretending it wasn't wrong, pretending it didn't hurt you, pretending other people are actually sorry for what they did. It's about going through your baggage and seeing what's there, and then letting it go. Easier said than done, I know. The help of a therapist can be invaluable in this process. It might take you some time to loosen that death grip you have on your baggage. No one will pry your fingers off your bag. You have to willingly give it up.
But I have some great news for you. The flight is ready to take off! You won't be on it unless you let go of that baggage. Do you actually want to go on that journey? Do you really want to fly, to soar high above those beautiful clouds to an exciting new destination? Then you know what to do. But the choice is yours.
Susan
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