Like most of us today, on the 10th anniversary of 9/11 - I'm filled with a boatload of emotions; a funky mix of reflection, anger, grief, anxiousness, hope and appreciation (to name a few).
While part of me wants desperately to write about the whys and wherefores of these feelings - and pen something poignant and impactful - it's just not in the cards. Nope. Not now. Not today.
So if it's okay with you, in lieu of coming up with new words and spending energy I don't have (and would rather devote today to family and friends) - I'm going to post some excerpts from the last chapter of Pocket PorchLights. After all, I have always looked at this chapter as a big group hug; an all encompassing hand-holding tribute to what it takes to thrive at business, work and life.
Moreover, since this chapter, like the rest of the book - was heavily inspired by tons of wonderful people, both directly and indirectly - it seems to fit today's "let's come together and count our blessings" vibe. Hopefully, you'll feel the same.
On that note, I wish you and yours peace, love and togetherness.
It Matters ...
I keep two Father’s Day cards at my desk: one from my parents, and one from my wife. On the cover of the card from my parents is a picture of a young boy dressed in goggles, wearing one of those old-fashioned pilot’s caps with the flaps that hang down over the ears.
He’s standing on a box, with a towel wrapped around him like a cape. His arms are stretched out wide as if he is flying. He has a big smile and a marvelous look of pure enjoyment. The writing with the picture says, “Son, from playing the hero…” Then when you open the card, there’s another picture of a grown man, walking on the beach with his child sitting on his shoulders, holding onto Dad’s hands. They’re playing happily in the waves. The caption underneath this picture, and in an obvious continuation of the sentiment from the cover reads, “…To being the Hero.” Then on the other side of the card is written: “How wonderful it has been to watch you grow into the amazing man you are. Happy Father’s Day.” Then it’s signed simply, “Love You, Mom and Dad.”
Now inside the card from my wife is a picture of our two children, happy as all get-out. Opposite of the picture are the following words: “‘Walk a little slower, Daddy,’ said a child so small. ‘I’m following in your footsteps and I don’t want to fall. Sometimes your steps are very fast. Sometimes they’re hard to see; so walk a little slower, Daddy, for you are leading me. Someday when I’m all grown up, you’re what I want to be. Then I will have a little child who’ll want to follow me. And I would want to lead just right, and know that I was true. So walk a little slower, Daddy, for I must follow you.’”
I have to tell you, about a week or so after getting those cards, I brought them into my office and read them again, maybe ten times or more. They made me cry — and I’m not just talking about getting watery eyed. That happens even when I watch sappy TV. I’m talking about a caught-off-guard, grimacing, tears-rolling-down-my-face-crying-like-a-little-kid-kind-of-cry. Talk about a Hallmark moment.
In hindsight, I don’t really know why the cards affected me like they did. Maybe I was having a bad day at the office, or had been short-tempered with my kids or my wife earlier that morning, and it made me remorseful. Or maybe it was because I really didn’t think that I was worth such neat cards. Regardless, they did something besides generate tears. They still do.
The cards make me stop and reflect. They motivate me and make me appreciative of all that life has to offer, as well as the responsibilities and obligations that we have in life. The cards also impress upon me the fact that we have to be mindful of everything; that everything matters, and even what doesn’t matter — matters.
You see, if it matters to you, but not to somebody else, it certainly matters, right? Intuitively then, if it matters to somebody else, but not to you, it still matters, though, because it matters to that person. That’s why the so-called “Golden Rule” is flawed. It shouldn’t be, “Treat people the way you want to be treated.” After all, “you” could be a real jerk and think it’s okay to treat, and be treated, like a jerk. What the Golden Rule actually should say is, “Treat people the way they want to be treated.” That’s assuming they’re not devil-worshipping, sadomasochists into bad music. That is not good.
But seriously, it’s not just a difference in wordsmithing — it’s not. There’s a fundamental differentiation in the philosophy between the two interpretations. Simply stated, one’s self-oriented and one’s others-oriented. Because you’re savvy, you’ll agree. As importantly, you’ll appreciate the difference and choose the right one. After all, you’re cool enough to read this book, willing enough to get this far, and smart enough to hang in there until the end. That says something about your ability to learn, to be challenged and to accept different interpretations and points of view.
Sure, there will be those who disagree with us (assuming we think alike) and pundits who will say that we’re wrong, or at a minimum, overly sensitive, and just not tough enough. That’s okay. They can, and should, have their own opinions. After all, opinions are like belly buttons: we all have them. How you manage them however, is what it’s all about. The writer F. Scott Fitzgerald said, “the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function” is the sign of a truly intelligent person. And you can do that, can’t you?
Again and as always, pretty much everything matters.
Most of all ...
That we’re compassionate. There’s a terrific book by Harry Palmer called, Resurfacing: Techniques for Exploring Consciousness, that recommends a five step-exercise for putting compassion in action.
It goes like this: With your attention focused on the other person, be it a friend or stranger, tell yourself, that:
Step 1: Just like me, this person is seeking happiness.
Step 2: Just like me, this person is trying to avoid suffering.
Step 3: Just like me, this person knows sadness, loneliness, despair.
Step 4: Just like me, this person is seeking to fill needs.
Step 5: Just like me, this person is learning about life.
It matters that we go to work and that we do our best work. But it also matters that we do so smartly and in recognition of why we work, which is to provide for and secure that which is important.
It matters that there is too much violence, hatred, injustice, pain and suffering. We need to do what we can, in our own way, to help the discriminated against, the sick and the less fortunate.
It matters that we have values and ethics; that we can be trusted and trust, that we genuinely listen and genuinely learn, and that we’re empathetic and sensitive.
It matters that we can be individuals with individuality, but that we can also be sensitive, others-oriented and mindful of what others think, feel and what they’re going through.
It matters that we are disciplined and accountable; that we do what we say and say what we’ll do, and that we can take and accept criticism and respond accordingly.
It matters that we can promote, embrace, manage, and deliver change; that we are both realistic and idealistic, and that we know the difference between when, where, and why.
It matters that we can disagree agreeably and that we can take the high-road and turn the other cheek.
It matters that we keep tabs on our finances and manage our cash flow and credit; that we only spend what we can, and only buy what we should.
It matters that we care for our environment and deal with the “inconvenient truth” of global warming; that we respect our world and do our part to keep it clean and healthy.
It matters that we’re always improving ourselves — our minds, bodies and spirt.
It matters that we promote quality in work and life.
It matters that we bestow love and receive love.
It matters that we parent conditionally and respect the job of parenting.
It matters that we appreciate our individual and collective responsibilities to ourselves, our families and our friends — and yes, our companies, colleagues, country and world.
It matters that we laugh, listen to music, sing, dance, stay fit, read, work, enjoy life, learn and strive to thrive.
* This space has been left blank for your own unique “matters". Talk about it with family and friends. Think big.
Recognizing It Matters Is Good.
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