I have repeatedly experienced the truth to this lesson. I usually understand it better after every new thing I learn. Have you heard the expression: "The more I learn, the more I learn I never knew"? What really makes sense about this is that the more I learn, the more ways I learn that I could have chosen to do things differently. However, this concept is a double edge sword. "When your only tool is a hammer, the whole world appears as a nail." Is a great testament to focusing on broadening and developing your skills so that you have the tools that required to respond to different situations. If you lack the skills to effectively respond, you will respond using only the tools you have. The point here is a keen focus in development, and a culture and lifestyle of learning. However, on the concept of the double edge sword is avoiding tackling a task just because you may not have the best set of tools. Settling with substandard tools is just that - settling. However always focusing on taking the best action possible with the tools that you have is being proactive and learning to adapt as required. Facing challenges head-on is how to build an arsenal of tested tools; fire hardened through experience.
I think I might expand on this lesson a bit if I have kids: "When your only tool is a hammer, the whole world appears as a nail. But, if a hammer is all you've got, then swing it like you mean it!"
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
Say Your ABC's Daily
A, B, C, D, E....
Well, that's a different kind of ABC's. How can it be different? The answer is simple, and so is this lesson, but likely the most important.
Sometimes, Dad let everything that life throws consume him. Caught up in distractions with work, family, friends and other responsibilities, Dad - as much as the rest of us - could at times lose focus. I remember walking with him one morning - Dad and Mom are both avid walkers - when he shared with me how he brought his focus back daily.
As I mentioned, Dad and Mom walk religiously; walking up to 4 or 5 miles nearly everyday, in Michigan, even in the winter, is well, nuts. I give them credit for their commitment, however, I tend to avoid that kind of torture. In the words of my friend and fellow pilot, David Jenkins: "I am plenty good at being miserable when required. I certainly have no need to practice ahead of time!" Sorry for the diversion from the main topic, but it was necessary to make this note.
Back to the walk I took with Dad on Rowe road - the place in Milford, MI where I grew up - where I learned the importance of re-centering on that which is most important everyday. Dad and I were walking; he was silent. Enjoying my time with my thoughts, too, I continued to walk beside him without a word. Several minutes into our walk, he asked: "Do you know what I do while I am walking every morning?" Of course I said that I did not.
"I say my ABC's every morning."
"Your ABC's? You have a Masters Degree; probably should have practiced those sooner," I said with a crooked smile.
"Not those ABC's. I start with A. A is for Attitude. Attitude is a decision, and I make a conscious decision every day about the attitude I want to have. When I move on to B, I consider my blessings. I think of all of the great things that God has blessed me with, and the positive influence that those blessings have on my life. Finally, I cover 'C'. Character. I can make a decision about my attitude, and I can count my blessings, but when those two thing fail to support the toughest of times, that's when real character is measured. I commit that no matter what, I will come through my challenges with character. Remember that the best defense is not needing one."
Well, that's a different kind of ABC's. How can it be different? The answer is simple, and so is this lesson, but likely the most important.
Sometimes, Dad let everything that life throws consume him. Caught up in distractions with work, family, friends and other responsibilities, Dad - as much as the rest of us - could at times lose focus. I remember walking with him one morning - Dad and Mom are both avid walkers - when he shared with me how he brought his focus back daily.
As I mentioned, Dad and Mom walk religiously; walking up to 4 or 5 miles nearly everyday, in Michigan, even in the winter, is well, nuts. I give them credit for their commitment, however, I tend to avoid that kind of torture. In the words of my friend and fellow pilot, David Jenkins: "I am plenty good at being miserable when required. I certainly have no need to practice ahead of time!" Sorry for the diversion from the main topic, but it was necessary to make this note.
Back to the walk I took with Dad on Rowe road - the place in Milford, MI where I grew up - where I learned the importance of re-centering on that which is most important everyday. Dad and I were walking; he was silent. Enjoying my time with my thoughts, too, I continued to walk beside him without a word. Several minutes into our walk, he asked: "Do you know what I do while I am walking every morning?" Of course I said that I did not.
"I say my ABC's every morning."
"Your ABC's? You have a Masters Degree; probably should have practiced those sooner," I said with a crooked smile.
"Not those ABC's. I start with A. A is for Attitude. Attitude is a decision, and I make a conscious decision every day about the attitude I want to have. When I move on to B, I consider my blessings. I think of all of the great things that God has blessed me with, and the positive influence that those blessings have on my life. Finally, I cover 'C'. Character. I can make a decision about my attitude, and I can count my blessings, but when those two thing fail to support the toughest of times, that's when real character is measured. I commit that no matter what, I will come through my challenges with character. Remember that the best defense is not needing one."
Firewood Warms You Twice
Oh, how many times I participated in the cutting and stacking of firewood. It seems like every single year that Dad would resurect his favorite 'wood stacking' quote, saying: "It is often said the best thing about firewood is that it warms you twice. Once when you cut and stack it, and once when you burn it!" Needless to say, at that age, I probably would have settled for half the warmth, if I was able to avoid the half that involved the cutting and stacking.
Cutting and stacking wood, however, was damn near our winter religion. An important lesson I learned during these excursions was that a true man takes the hardest task for himself, and leave the other tasks to other people. I remember having a foreign exchange student from Mexico; he had the honor of participating in the cutting and stacking of wood the winter he was with us. He started to complain that Dad had taken the easy job by selecting to work with the chainsaw and hand splitter while George was doing the loading and stacking. Dad taught George an important lesson - one I was obliged to learn by watching rather then through personal experience.
Dad handed George the chainsaw and splitter, and began stacking wood (at a rate quite beyond that of George, I might add) and set George to work. The time it took George to learn his lesson was short - very short. I learned that if you select to challenge a man of such character, you had better be prepared to get extra warm the first round with the firewood. A great man selects the toughest job for himself, and allows those around him to tackle other tasks.
Cutting and stacking wood, however, was damn near our winter religion. An important lesson I learned during these excursions was that a true man takes the hardest task for himself, and leave the other tasks to other people. I remember having a foreign exchange student from Mexico; he had the honor of participating in the cutting and stacking of wood the winter he was with us. He started to complain that Dad had taken the easy job by selecting to work with the chainsaw and hand splitter while George was doing the loading and stacking. Dad taught George an important lesson - one I was obliged to learn by watching rather then through personal experience.
Dad handed George the chainsaw and splitter, and began stacking wood (at a rate quite beyond that of George, I might add) and set George to work. The time it took George to learn his lesson was short - very short. I learned that if you select to challenge a man of such character, you had better be prepared to get extra warm the first round with the firewood. A great man selects the toughest job for himself, and allows those around him to tackle other tasks.
The Menacing Bear
It is not uncommon for all of us to roll our eyes a bit when those close to us repeat a story we have already heard far too many times. The story of the menacing bear was just one of those stories my dad would tell when I would roll my eyes. I suppose, I should share the story with you:
Josh and Brian were out camping one evening in the backwoods of the North. As they were winding down their day - cleaning up from supper, stoking the night fire, and preparing their beds - they began to hear movement in the trees just beyond their campsite. Josh turned to Brian with a look of wonder in his eyes, which quickly turned to concern as the rustling in the bushes began to circle the camp, growling. As the sound of the growling turned to snarling and began to grow louder, Josh sat down and began to put on his running shows, carefully tying each one. Brian turned to Josh and asked frantically: "Josh, what are you doing, putting on those shoes? You're never going to outrun that bear!" Calmly, Josh turned to Brian and said: "I don't have to outrun the bear. I just have to outrun you."
I smile every time I think of this story because of the comical nature of it. However, the more I consider the meaning of what my Dad was teaching me, the more I appreciate the allegory held within. Earlier I shared about the lessons of "It Depends" and "Analysis Paralysis". This short story is how we keep it all in perspective. No task is insurmountable if viewed with the right attitude. "I don't have to outrun that bear. I just have to outrun you."
Josh and Brian were out camping one evening in the backwoods of the North. As they were winding down their day - cleaning up from supper, stoking the night fire, and preparing their beds - they began to hear movement in the trees just beyond their campsite. Josh turned to Brian with a look of wonder in his eyes, which quickly turned to concern as the rustling in the bushes began to circle the camp, growling. As the sound of the growling turned to snarling and began to grow louder, Josh sat down and began to put on his running shows, carefully tying each one. Brian turned to Josh and asked frantically: "Josh, what are you doing, putting on those shoes? You're never going to outrun that bear!" Calmly, Josh turned to Brian and said: "I don't have to outrun the bear. I just have to outrun you."
I smile every time I think of this story because of the comical nature of it. However, the more I consider the meaning of what my Dad was teaching me, the more I appreciate the allegory held within. Earlier I shared about the lessons of "It Depends" and "Analysis Paralysis". This short story is how we keep it all in perspective. No task is insurmountable if viewed with the right attitude. "I don't have to outrun that bear. I just have to outrun you."
It Depends
One of the excellent lessons that my Dad taught me was the answer to nearly every question. This lesson was much larger that just giving me a pre-programmed response, but more significantly, prompted me to realize that on every occasion there are variables to take into consideration with every decision. Originally I learned this while assisting my Dad in conducting Hunter's Safety trainings. When Dad was discussing ethics with the students in his class he would ask them a series of questions to which the correct answer was always: It Depends. This sparked conversation on each of the ethical questions which allowed each of the students to make determinations on conditions which would effect the outcome of the decision making process.
As I continue to experience life at my own pace, I understand this concept more an more. By answering each question that requires me to make a decision on the outcome with: It Depends, I too am able to take the time to consider conditions which will effect my determination on making the best decision possible.
As I continue to experience life at my own pace, I understand this concept more an more. By answering each question that requires me to make a decision on the outcome with: It Depends, I too am able to take the time to consider conditions which will effect my determination on making the best decision possible.
Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas.
My dad used a saying when I was young that always frustrated me. It was not until my mid-twenties that I began to truly understand the importance of what he was saying to me. When my choices were not the best I could make, or more significantly, when those choices would get me in trouble, Dad repeated the favorite quote of a judge that he knew from his years in police work. When that judge had people in his courtroom that would blame their plight on others, he would say to them: "Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas". Although this saying did a great deal to insight the rolling of my eyes when I was young, as I continue to learn more in my life, I realize the importance of this lesson.
I have another mentor who taught me another principle that helped me to learn the significance of my dads lesson. Tim Green - Certified Trainer with Referral Institute of Michigan first exposed me to the concept presented by Jim Rohn: "You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with". Out of necessity in business, I began to consider that concept. During that period of consideration, I was able to connect the message and lesson I had learned from my dad at such a young age: Lie Down With Dogs, Get Up With Fleas.
I have another mentor who taught me another principle that helped me to learn the significance of my dads lesson. Tim Green - Certified Trainer with Referral Institute of Michigan first exposed me to the concept presented by Jim Rohn: "You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with". Out of necessity in business, I began to consider that concept. During that period of consideration, I was able to connect the message and lesson I had learned from my dad at such a young age: Lie Down With Dogs, Get Up With Fleas.
Cooperate to Graduate
This is one of my favorite sayings my dad had. In fact, he was taught this term by one of his favorite professors. While working on his Master's Degree, Dad was challenged with trying to do everything perfectly. As time went on, the strain really started to weigh on him. At the point that he was unsure if he was going to be able to succeed at the task of completing the degree, his professor and mentor talked with him, telling him that he was making the process harder on himself than it had to be. Dad expressed his concern about doing as well as possible. The professor reminded him that there was a process to the program, and that process was what the university expected of him. "Marty", he said, "cooperate to graduate."
This was a very meaningful lesson growing up, especially because of another conversation Dad and I had, that I never forgot. When I was young, I asked him about a family member who seemed to live life very differently, and quite frankly, sadly - than other family members. He explained to me that society had certain expectations. Only after meeting those expectations, could anyone reap the rewards that society had to offer. He taught me that the beautiful thing about freedom - living in the United States - was that we are each able to decide for ourselves to what extent we wish to conform to societies demands. However, with great freedom comes great responsibility. By having the freedom to decide to what level we desire to conform to what society demands, we also must have the fortitude to accept the rewards that society chooses to bestow - or withhold - in return.
This was a very meaningful lesson growing up, especially because of another conversation Dad and I had, that I never forgot. When I was young, I asked him about a family member who seemed to live life very differently, and quite frankly, sadly - than other family members. He explained to me that society had certain expectations. Only after meeting those expectations, could anyone reap the rewards that society had to offer. He taught me that the beautiful thing about freedom - living in the United States - was that we are each able to decide for ourselves to what extent we wish to conform to societies demands. However, with great freedom comes great responsibility. By having the freedom to decide to what level we desire to conform to what society demands, we also must have the fortitude to accept the rewards that society chooses to bestow - or withhold - in return.
When in doubt, climb. No one ever collided with the sky!
My Dad and I have an complimentary, but interestingly different, appreciation for aviation. The simple description is that I love helicopters that fly low and fast; I am a veteran U.S. Army UH-60 Blackhawk Helicopter Pilot. My Dad is a private instrument airplane pilot who thoroughly enjoys cruising around, gazing over the world at several thousand feet. I find this difference ironically similar to the relationships of many fathers and sons; Dads seem so conservative, and sons are out soak up all of the intense experiences the world has to offer.
Often, my Dad will share his wisdom with me in ways that I never see coming. (This still amazes me to this day. I tried so hard to resist his teachings growing up; he always seemed to sneak them in without me noticing.) One of the things I remember him telling me - when we were talking about flying - was: "When in doubt, climb. No one ever collided with the sky." Of course, this can be taken in its most simplistic form: if ever you are having problems while flying, gain altitude so you have more time before you get to the ground to make good decisions. It also occurs to me now, however, that this lesson is just as valuable in all of the other aspects of my life. By climbing - growing, improving, saving, etc - we are left with a great deal more time and space between ourselves and calamity.
Often, my Dad will share his wisdom with me in ways that I never see coming. (This still amazes me to this day. I tried so hard to resist his teachings growing up; he always seemed to sneak them in without me noticing.) One of the things I remember him telling me - when we were talking about flying - was: "When in doubt, climb. No one ever collided with the sky." Of course, this can be taken in its most simplistic form: if ever you are having problems while flying, gain altitude so you have more time before you get to the ground to make good decisions. It also occurs to me now, however, that this lesson is just as valuable in all of the other aspects of my life. By climbing - growing, improving, saving, etc - we are left with a great deal more time and space between ourselves and calamity.
Work Hard, Play Hard
One of the sayings my Dad often used growing up was "Work Hard, Play Hard". What's more significant is that he really lives this principle more than any other person I know. Working harder and longer than any man I know, to the point sometimes that it would appear to someone on the outside that it consumed him, he always knew how to take time for fun. Not just average family fun like board games or cards (although we did a lot of those things). We are talking hard-core fun, like flying, boating, traveling; and at times, all out partying! He would always remind my sister and I while playing hard that: "When it's time to work, we work. When it's time to play, we play ... hard."
Growing up, I never really liked this philosophy; we should play all of the time! In my youngest years, I failed to understand the lesson he was teaching. In my mind, if there was such a significant gap between working and playing, why would anyone work.
As I continue to experience more of this world, I realize now that he was framing in my mind a concept that later would have more meaning for me than many other things I would learn. What he was teaching me is that when we work hard, we are building our experiences and personal self worth through a job well done. When we play hard, we express ourselves while enjoying the fruits of our labors. Work Hard, Play Hard is not a chasm between two extremes of fun and misery, but rather an all encompassing expression of finding fulfillment in all of the aspects of our lives.
Growing up, I never really liked this philosophy; we should play all of the time! In my youngest years, I failed to understand the lesson he was teaching. In my mind, if there was such a significant gap between working and playing, why would anyone work.
As I continue to experience more of this world, I realize now that he was framing in my mind a concept that later would have more meaning for me than many other things I would learn. What he was teaching me is that when we work hard, we are building our experiences and personal self worth through a job well done. When we play hard, we express ourselves while enjoying the fruits of our labors. Work Hard, Play Hard is not a chasm between two extremes of fun and misery, but rather an all encompassing expression of finding fulfillment in all of the aspects of our lives.
Analysis Paralysis
What a great place to begin this journey of sharing the education that my father has given me through the years. Revisiting this lesson - called 'Analysis Paralysis' - is why I finally decided to begin blogging, and sharing these thoughts. Recently, I believe that - as so many parents do - my dad has started questioning, now that it is too late to change the past, if he was a good father. To be honest: he was less than perfect. That's right. Accept it. Dad's are human like everyone else, and they are less than perfect. They argue with Mom's sometimes, wrongly scold you for something you never did, or even - God forbid - forgive a little too often or easily.
As I was thinking about my Dad's plight, it occurred to me that I should find a way to tell him all of the great things he did for me; why the sacrifices he made are so valuable. Great effort was spent considering a method for sharing my thoughts and feelings; deliberation on delivery, and the moment of pride when the message was received. How was I going to share this very important gift with my Dad. How would I tell him? It must be perfect.
That is when I revisited on of the ideas that Dad shared with me while I was growing up. He talked often of an illness he called 'analysis paralysis'. Basic concept: If you allow yourself to focus on the details so much that you fail to be able to take action, then you will be unable to accomplish anything. You suffer from analysis paralysis.
Considering this concept, I decided that I would just begin to write. Displeased with what I was writing, I began to toss thoughts aside and hope for something better to come along. Finally, I realized that I was falling into a trap, and I must take action. I have gathered up all of the minor writings that I have assembled, and will be posting and developing them here - on this blog - In The Living Years: 52 of the greatest things my Dad taught me.
Thank you for reading.
As I was thinking about my Dad's plight, it occurred to me that I should find a way to tell him all of the great things he did for me; why the sacrifices he made are so valuable. Great effort was spent considering a method for sharing my thoughts and feelings; deliberation on delivery, and the moment of pride when the message was received. How was I going to share this very important gift with my Dad. How would I tell him? It must be perfect.
That is when I revisited on of the ideas that Dad shared with me while I was growing up. He talked often of an illness he called 'analysis paralysis'. Basic concept: If you allow yourself to focus on the details so much that you fail to be able to take action, then you will be unable to accomplish anything. You suffer from analysis paralysis.
Considering this concept, I decided that I would just begin to write. Displeased with what I was writing, I began to toss thoughts aside and hope for something better to come along. Finally, I realized that I was falling into a trap, and I must take action. I have gathered up all of the minor writings that I have assembled, and will be posting and developing them here - on this blog - In The Living Years: 52 of the greatest things my Dad taught me.
Thank you for reading.
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