When I was a kid playing sports, there were no clubs, travel teams, or private coaches. Except for summer baseball leagues, the primary place to play was high school. When I was in the 10th grade, I wanted to play basketball in the worst way.
Unfortunately, given my size and talent, that’s how I played. But in those days, sports was part of the educational program and, to accommodate every kid who wanted to play, there were four skill levels – varsity, junior varsity, B, and C teams.
I was a third-stringer on the C team. My ambition was to play in 12 quarters during the season, the minimum requirement for a letterman’s jacket.
Fortunately, the coach liked my spunk, so he’d put me in at the end of games when I could do no harm. In the last quarter of the last game, he made sure I got my letter by giving me an eight-second stint. Although I think I played less than two minutes of total game time during that season, I was part of the team and played in every practice.
Three years later, I was the only senior on the C team but I was a starter! Of all my high school achievements, none was more important than my three basketball letters.
It wasn’t just recreation for me. It was education. My sports experience strengthened my character and helped me develop important life skills including goal-setting, preparation, and perseverance. It also taught me about honor and sportsmanship.
So when you read chilling stories about cheating coaches, out-of-control fans, or spoiled athletes, don’t blame sports. Blame those who don’t do it right.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
The Beijing Games: Thumbs Up or Thumbs Down?
There’s a lot going on at the Beijing Olympics worthy of comment and plenty of evidence to support both positive and negative assessments.
If we focus on the grand and glorious aspects of the Opening Ceremonies, the beauty of the Beijing National Stadium (the “Bird’s Nest”), the pride and enthusiasm of the Chinese people, and the astonishing athletic performances setting world and Olympic records every single day, these Games deserve a fervent “thumbs up.”
On the other hand, we could justify an equally emphatic “thumbs down” if we focus on events and attitudes that demonstrate the country’s low regard for individual freedoms, democratic principles, and basic honesty. The Games were tainted by decisions to replace a lovely little girl with a great voice with a lip-synching child thought to be better looking and to computer-enhance the fireworks display for TV. These acts fueled cynicism about the credibility of the Chinese government that is seemingly more concerned with looking good than being honest.
And though the purpose of the Olympics is to transcend politics, I don’t think we can completely ignore the inconsistency of Olympic ideals and China’s vigorous suppression of dissent or protest on any issue and their involvement in the massive genocidal actions in Darfur.
So what should we think and talk about – is the glass is half empty or half full?
It’s okay to separately admire and appreciate all the things worthy of commendation and, at another time, express disagreement and disdain for those things worthy of condemnation.
As with many things in life, we shouldn’t let beauty in some areas blind us to ugliness in others, but we also shouldn’t let ugliness in some areas blind us to the beauty in others.
At least for now, I’m going to continue enjoying these Games.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
If we focus on the grand and glorious aspects of the Opening Ceremonies, the beauty of the Beijing National Stadium (the “Bird’s Nest”), the pride and enthusiasm of the Chinese people, and the astonishing athletic performances setting world and Olympic records every single day, these Games deserve a fervent “thumbs up.”
On the other hand, we could justify an equally emphatic “thumbs down” if we focus on events and attitudes that demonstrate the country’s low regard for individual freedoms, democratic principles, and basic honesty. The Games were tainted by decisions to replace a lovely little girl with a great voice with a lip-synching child thought to be better looking and to computer-enhance the fireworks display for TV. These acts fueled cynicism about the credibility of the Chinese government that is seemingly more concerned with looking good than being honest.
And though the purpose of the Olympics is to transcend politics, I don’t think we can completely ignore the inconsistency of Olympic ideals and China’s vigorous suppression of dissent or protest on any issue and their involvement in the massive genocidal actions in Darfur.
So what should we think and talk about – is the glass is half empty or half full?
It’s okay to separately admire and appreciate all the things worthy of commendation and, at another time, express disagreement and disdain for those things worthy of condemnation.
As with many things in life, we shouldn’t let beauty in some areas blind us to ugliness in others, but we also shouldn’t let ugliness in some areas blind us to the beauty in others.
At least for now, I’m going to continue enjoying these Games.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
The Intimidating Power of Integrity
A teacher once wrote me about a parent with clout at her school who asked her to change attendance records to make her child’s record look better. The teacher said she thought long and hard about the request but eventually refused, knowing it would make the parent angry.
First, I commended her moral courage. I wish it didn’t take courage to do the right thing, especially in such a clear case as this, but in the real world people with power often retaliate when they don’t get what they want. This can make your life difficult.
Moral courage is the much-needed bodyguard of conscience and character. The personal costs of putting our integrity on the auction block are so high that we simply have to take the risk. Once we start on the slippery slope of moral compromise, it’s hard to resist the downward slide.
My first instinct was that the parent who subjected the teacher to this corrupt and corrupting request was a thoroughgoing villain, but I suspected she was a basically decent mom so intent on helping her child that she just ignored her moral brakes.
It’s wrong to ask someone to lie or cheat, though, and when it comes from someone with power, it’s even worse. Power is intimidating even when it’s not used.
But unswerving integrity can also be intimidating. Clearly improper requests deserve an immediate, firm, and dignified response that leaves no ambiguity that they’re inappropriate. Be careful not to be self-righteous, but let people who ask worry about what you think of them.
If they persist, let them – not you – worry about the consequences.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
First, I commended her moral courage. I wish it didn’t take courage to do the right thing, especially in such a clear case as this, but in the real world people with power often retaliate when they don’t get what they want. This can make your life difficult.
Moral courage is the much-needed bodyguard of conscience and character. The personal costs of putting our integrity on the auction block are so high that we simply have to take the risk. Once we start on the slippery slope of moral compromise, it’s hard to resist the downward slide.
My first instinct was that the parent who subjected the teacher to this corrupt and corrupting request was a thoroughgoing villain, but I suspected she was a basically decent mom so intent on helping her child that she just ignored her moral brakes.
It’s wrong to ask someone to lie or cheat, though, and when it comes from someone with power, it’s even worse. Power is intimidating even when it’s not used.
But unswerving integrity can also be intimidating. Clearly improper requests deserve an immediate, firm, and dignified response that leaves no ambiguity that they’re inappropriate. Be careful not to be self-righteous, but let people who ask worry about what you think of them.
If they persist, let them – not you – worry about the consequences.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
Good Relationships Make a Good Life
If we interviewed 100 people who are unusually happy, I think the most prominent common denominator would be unusually good relationships.
Despite the widespread promotion of materialism and vanity in our popular culture, wealth and beauty are not enough to produce happiness. In fact, they’re not even necessary. What’s more, bad relationships – at work, at home, or among friends – are a surefire source of anguish and heartache.
For most of us, the connections that most strongly influence our level of happiness are family bonds. And the most powerful of all are at the inner core of family, especially parent-child relationships.
No matter what your age, kinship with your parents will always have a unique capacity to generate comfort or pain. Many children have ambivalent feelings about their folks. Yet most crave their approval, respect, and love. Parents have a similar need.
If you’re a parent, resolve to make more consistent and conscientious efforts to make your children feel appreciated. If you want to make their lives and yours happier, be careful to not demean or diminish their achievements and to avoid expressions of disappointment. Tell your child you’re proud to have him or her as a son or daughter.
And if you still can, give your parents pleasure by showing that you love them, not only for what they did for you as a child but for who they are now. Talk to them frequently and talk of meaningful things. Ask their advice – and don’t roll your eyes if you disagree with it. One of the best ways to express your love is through respect.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
Despite the widespread promotion of materialism and vanity in our popular culture, wealth and beauty are not enough to produce happiness. In fact, they’re not even necessary. What’s more, bad relationships – at work, at home, or among friends – are a surefire source of anguish and heartache.
For most of us, the connections that most strongly influence our level of happiness are family bonds. And the most powerful of all are at the inner core of family, especially parent-child relationships.
No matter what your age, kinship with your parents will always have a unique capacity to generate comfort or pain. Many children have ambivalent feelings about their folks. Yet most crave their approval, respect, and love. Parents have a similar need.
If you’re a parent, resolve to make more consistent and conscientious efforts to make your children feel appreciated. If you want to make their lives and yours happier, be careful to not demean or diminish their achievements and to avoid expressions of disappointment. Tell your child you’re proud to have him or her as a son or daughter.
And if you still can, give your parents pleasure by showing that you love them, not only for what they did for you as a child but for who they are now. Talk to them frequently and talk of meaningful things. Ask their advice – and don’t roll your eyes if you disagree with it. One of the best ways to express your love is through respect.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Being Decisive
Frank is a new supervisor who wants to do well. Maria consistently comes in late. When he confronts her, she jokes about it. Hoping to win friendship and loyalty, Frank is painfully patient, though Pat, a conscientious employee, urges him to do more. Soon others begin to come in late, and Pat quits. Frank feels victimized by disloyal employees, but he has no one to blame but himself.
A frequent workplace complaint is waiting for the boss to make a decision or take needed action. It might be about a pending promotion, filling an open position, giving an overdue performance review, pricing a new product, or dealing with a sticky customer complaint. Whatever the issue, failure to make a decision can make big problems out of little ones. What’s more, indecisiveness can generate resentment and undermine confidence in the manager’s ability.
It was Frank’s responsibility to set the tone of the work environment. In management (or parenting, for that matter), what you allow, you encourage. As Frank learned the hard way, indecision and inaction can cause as much harm as a poor decision.
Sure, it’s important to be careful, and it’s sometimes wise to put off a decision or delay action – for instance, to get more information or buy-in, to let things cool off, or for other strategic reasons – but failing to make a needed decision is not acceptable because a manager is too busy, is avoiding an unpleasant confrontation, is hoping things will work themselves out, or is just procrastinating.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
A frequent workplace complaint is waiting for the boss to make a decision or take needed action. It might be about a pending promotion, filling an open position, giving an overdue performance review, pricing a new product, or dealing with a sticky customer complaint. Whatever the issue, failure to make a decision can make big problems out of little ones. What’s more, indecisiveness can generate resentment and undermine confidence in the manager’s ability.
It was Frank’s responsibility to set the tone of the work environment. In management (or parenting, for that matter), what you allow, you encourage. As Frank learned the hard way, indecision and inaction can cause as much harm as a poor decision.
Sure, it’s important to be careful, and it’s sometimes wise to put off a decision or delay action – for instance, to get more information or buy-in, to let things cool off, or for other strategic reasons – but failing to make a needed decision is not acceptable because a manager is too busy, is avoiding an unpleasant confrontation, is hoping things will work themselves out, or is just procrastinating.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
Learn From Yesterday and Plan for Tomorrow – But Live for Today
Yesterday, I read the words of former White House press secretary Tony Snow, who died last week at the too early age of 53. He had written his thoughts about dealing with terminal cancer. His feelings about facing death in the context of his family and faith were insightful and eloquent.
Randy Pausch, a 47-year-old computer sciences professor facing similar news of incurable cancer, chose another direction. He decided to talk about his situation with his students in “The Last Lecture,” which was re-created for “The Oprah Winfrey Show,” posted on YouTube, and turned into a best-selling book of the same name.
Although the backdrop for Randy’s farewell address was his impending death, he talked with exuberance, optimism, and insight about how to live wisely and fully. He urged his students to set lofty and meaningful goals, to persevere in the face of obstacles, and to live their lives so when their time came, they would have no regrets. His message was reminiscent of the teacher in the movie Dead Poets Society whose motto was carpe diem (“seize the day”).
Tim Russert, the likable and credible TV newsman, also passed away prematurely this year. But unlike Tony and Randy, he had no opportunity to formulate a final message as he died suddenly from a heart attack, leaving it to an army of family and friends to speak of his virtues and the meaning and purpose of his well-lived life.
Few of us will leave this earth with such fanfare, but the words and examples of these special men remind us of our mortality and the preciousness of the time we have to spend with the people we love and to do work we care about. As Disraeli said, “Life is too short to be little.”
We must learn from yesterday and plan for tomorrow – but live for today.
Here are some of Randy Pauch’s observations:
• Get the fundamentals down because the fancy stuff isn’t going to work.
• We can't change the cards we’re dealt, just how we play the hand.
• Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.
• The brick walls aren’t there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. The brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough.
• You just have to decide if you’re a Tigger or an Eeyore.
• Don’t bail. The best of the gold is at the bottom of barrels of crap.
• Don’t complain. Work harder.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
Randy Pausch, a 47-year-old computer sciences professor facing similar news of incurable cancer, chose another direction. He decided to talk about his situation with his students in “The Last Lecture,” which was re-created for “The Oprah Winfrey Show,” posted on YouTube, and turned into a best-selling book of the same name.
Although the backdrop for Randy’s farewell address was his impending death, he talked with exuberance, optimism, and insight about how to live wisely and fully. He urged his students to set lofty and meaningful goals, to persevere in the face of obstacles, and to live their lives so when their time came, they would have no regrets. His message was reminiscent of the teacher in the movie Dead Poets Society whose motto was carpe diem (“seize the day”).
Tim Russert, the likable and credible TV newsman, also passed away prematurely this year. But unlike Tony and Randy, he had no opportunity to formulate a final message as he died suddenly from a heart attack, leaving it to an army of family and friends to speak of his virtues and the meaning and purpose of his well-lived life.
Few of us will leave this earth with such fanfare, but the words and examples of these special men remind us of our mortality and the preciousness of the time we have to spend with the people we love and to do work we care about. As Disraeli said, “Life is too short to be little.”
We must learn from yesterday and plan for tomorrow – but live for today.
Here are some of Randy Pauch’s observations:
• Get the fundamentals down because the fancy stuff isn’t going to work.
• We can't change the cards we’re dealt, just how we play the hand.
• Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.
• The brick walls aren’t there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. The brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough.
• You just have to decide if you’re a Tigger or an Eeyore.
• Don’t bail. The best of the gold is at the bottom of barrels of crap.
• Don’t complain. Work harder.
This is Dimeji reminding you that character counts.
The More Things Change…
The minor hoopla about beginning my 12th year of these commentaries caused me to look through the archives of more than 2,500 ninety-second essays and review what’s gone on in the world and my private life since my first broadcast in 1997.
Reading my own commentaries reminded me of all the momentous events that have changed our world, our country, and my personal life.
Just consider some of the events that have made our world so different – cataclysmic natural disasters in the form of tsunamis, hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, and fires; Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky; sexual scandals rocking the Catholic Church; Enron and a host of unprecedented business frauds; the mortgage crisis; steroids in sports; the contest between a woman and a black man to see who would be the Democratic candidate for President; and of course the attacks of 9/11 and the aftermath (including our search for weapons of mass destruction, our invasion and occupation of Iraq, and the controversies about interrogation and detention of suspected terrorists).
Finally, think how much our culture has been changed by IMing, text-messaging, MySpace, Facebook, and YouTube.
On the personal front, I have more children and they’re older. The joys and challenges of fathering two toddler daughters then are much different as I’m now raising four girls ages 10-15. During it all, I turned 65 and transitioned into senior-citizen status.
The world is so different. Yet, when looked at from a higher level, we see the same issues. As they say, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
Although the names of our natural disasters and the people and events generating new scandals are different, our need for courage, compassion, integrity, accountability, and justice is the same.
And the toughest and most important part of my job as a dad is still to give a moral compass to my children to help them traverse through a minefield of temptations that constantly pull at them to be dishonest, disrespectful, irresponsible, or self-indulgent.
In the end, it’s still all about character.
Reading my own commentaries reminded me of all the momentous events that have changed our world, our country, and my personal life.
Just consider some of the events that have made our world so different – cataclysmic natural disasters in the form of tsunamis, hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, and fires; Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky; sexual scandals rocking the Catholic Church; Enron and a host of unprecedented business frauds; the mortgage crisis; steroids in sports; the contest between a woman and a black man to see who would be the Democratic candidate for President; and of course the attacks of 9/11 and the aftermath (including our search for weapons of mass destruction, our invasion and occupation of Iraq, and the controversies about interrogation and detention of suspected terrorists).
Finally, think how much our culture has been changed by IMing, text-messaging, MySpace, Facebook, and YouTube.
On the personal front, I have more children and they’re older. The joys and challenges of fathering two toddler daughters then are much different as I’m now raising four girls ages 10-15. During it all, I turned 65 and transitioned into senior-citizen status.
The world is so different. Yet, when looked at from a higher level, we see the same issues. As they say, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
Although the names of our natural disasters and the people and events generating new scandals are different, our need for courage, compassion, integrity, accountability, and justice is the same.
And the toughest and most important part of my job as a dad is still to give a moral compass to my children to help them traverse through a minefield of temptations that constantly pull at them to be dishonest, disrespectful, irresponsible, or self-indulgent.
In the end, it’s still all about character.
Don’t Miss the Chance
A listener got me thinking about the challenge of dealing with aging parents who become more and more needy and about the conflicts one is bound to feel. It motivated me to write this poem:
Don’t Miss the Chance
They said I was lucky my mom lived near,
But she was pretty old and it wasn’t so clear.
Sure, I was grateful for all she did for me,
But I was so very busy. I had no time free.
I had my job, my kids, my own life to live.
There really was nothing left for me to give.
I couldn’t visit often, but I did help out.
I gave money, did chores, and ran her about.
But truth be told, I didn’t like it that much.
The conversation was dull, and she was frail to touch.
She complained a lot and I just felt worse.
I didn’t have time to be handyman or nurse.
I could have done more – of course I could –
But she loved me and she understood.
I know she did because she told me so.
She wanted me to be happy – and I pretended not to know
That she was lonely, uncomfortable, and scared of dying.
I closed my eyes to how hard she was trying
To be brave, independent, and not needy at all.
She assured me she’d be fine even after her fall.
But now she’s gone and I miss her so,
And I’m so sorry I pretended not to know
How much a call, a card, or a hug brightened her day
Or how easy it was to chase her blues away.
I’m ashamed I felt burdened, pressured, and put out.
She deserved more than I gave her, without a doubt.
So if your mom or dad is still with you,
Don’t lose the chance – do all you can do.
Make time, not excuses. Go the extra mile.
Because your chance to do so lasts only a while.
Don’t Miss the Chance
They said I was lucky my mom lived near,
But she was pretty old and it wasn’t so clear.
Sure, I was grateful for all she did for me,
But I was so very busy. I had no time free.
I had my job, my kids, my own life to live.
There really was nothing left for me to give.
I couldn’t visit often, but I did help out.
I gave money, did chores, and ran her about.
But truth be told, I didn’t like it that much.
The conversation was dull, and she was frail to touch.
She complained a lot and I just felt worse.
I didn’t have time to be handyman or nurse.
I could have done more – of course I could –
But she loved me and she understood.
I know she did because she told me so.
She wanted me to be happy – and I pretended not to know
That she was lonely, uncomfortable, and scared of dying.
I closed my eyes to how hard she was trying
To be brave, independent, and not needy at all.
She assured me she’d be fine even after her fall.
But now she’s gone and I miss her so,
And I’m so sorry I pretended not to know
How much a call, a card, or a hug brightened her day
Or how easy it was to chase her blues away.
I’m ashamed I felt burdened, pressured, and put out.
She deserved more than I gave her, without a doubt.
So if your mom or dad is still with you,
Don’t lose the chance – do all you can do.
Make time, not excuses. Go the extra mile.
Because your chance to do so lasts only a while.
Moving Beyond Success to Significance
I frequently address people who are highly successful. They’re at the top of their field and often have all the comforts that wealth can afford. Most of them seem to enjoy their success.
So, in a way, it surprises me how deeply many of them respond when I talk about the difference between success and significance. Invariably, I see knowing nods when I describe Alfred Nobel’s disillusionment when he read his own obituary that was printed by mistake after his brother died. Although it was complimentary, describing him as a brilliant chemist who made a fortune as the inventor of dynamite, he was struck by how hollow and inconsequential his accomplishments seemed as the summation of one’s life. Determined to leave a more worthy legacy, he established the Nobel Prizes to acknowledge great human achievements.
Mr. Nobel realized there’s a transitory quality to success but immortality in significance. A life devoted to attaining personal goals can be admirable and satisfying, but it can be enormously enriched when we use our talents and time to improve the lives of others.
In his book Living a Life That Matters, Harold S. Kushner wrote, "Our souls are not hungry for fame, comfort, wealth, or power. Our souls are hungry for meaning, for the sense that we have figured out how to live so that our lives matter, so that the world will be at least a little bit different for our having passed through it."
If we realize this before it’s too late, we’re less likely to dishonor our families and the legacy of our lives with dishonesty or selfishness. Success just isn’t enough
So, in a way, it surprises me how deeply many of them respond when I talk about the difference between success and significance. Invariably, I see knowing nods when I describe Alfred Nobel’s disillusionment when he read his own obituary that was printed by mistake after his brother died. Although it was complimentary, describing him as a brilliant chemist who made a fortune as the inventor of dynamite, he was struck by how hollow and inconsequential his accomplishments seemed as the summation of one’s life. Determined to leave a more worthy legacy, he established the Nobel Prizes to acknowledge great human achievements.
Mr. Nobel realized there’s a transitory quality to success but immortality in significance. A life devoted to attaining personal goals can be admirable and satisfying, but it can be enormously enriched when we use our talents and time to improve the lives of others.
In his book Living a Life That Matters, Harold S. Kushner wrote, "Our souls are not hungry for fame, comfort, wealth, or power. Our souls are hungry for meaning, for the sense that we have figured out how to live so that our lives matter, so that the world will be at least a little bit different for our having passed through it."
If we realize this before it’s too late, we’re less likely to dishonor our families and the legacy of our lives with dishonesty or selfishness. Success just isn’t enough
The Stars Within
According to an article in The Wall Street Journal, two-thirds of the world’s population, including almost everyone in the Continental United States and Europe, no longer see a starry sky where they live.
The reason: City lights prevent us from seeing much more than a canopy of gray shadows. What a pity. In rural or remote areas with little or no artificial lights, about 2,000 stars can be seen on a clear night, and the experience can be breathtaking.
Whether we credit God or physics, how can we avoid the conclusion that our cosmos is governed by forces that dwarf anything our simple species can muster? How can we not feel like transitory snowflakes in a universe that measures time in billions of years and space in trillions of miles?
At the same time, a star-filled sky can be both empowering and inspiring. It can cause us to ponder the meaning and purpose of our lives, and it has ignited the imagination of poets, philosophers, theologians, and scientists for centuries.
It’s bad enough that the technology of contemporary civilization prevents us from seeing the extraterrestrial stars. It’s worse when we allow the shallow values and frenetic pace of modern society to prevent us from seeing and following the aspirations and principles that are our own internal guiding stars.
Every day we’re challenged to rise above petty office politics, senseless family conflicts, negative emotions, and unbridled ego so we can live our lives large and be worthy of our place in the universe.
We may not be able to see the stars by looking up, but if we close our eyes and look inward, we can find and follow the best within us
The reason: City lights prevent us from seeing much more than a canopy of gray shadows. What a pity. In rural or remote areas with little or no artificial lights, about 2,000 stars can be seen on a clear night, and the experience can be breathtaking.
Whether we credit God or physics, how can we avoid the conclusion that our cosmos is governed by forces that dwarf anything our simple species can muster? How can we not feel like transitory snowflakes in a universe that measures time in billions of years and space in trillions of miles?
At the same time, a star-filled sky can be both empowering and inspiring. It can cause us to ponder the meaning and purpose of our lives, and it has ignited the imagination of poets, philosophers, theologians, and scientists for centuries.
It’s bad enough that the technology of contemporary civilization prevents us from seeing the extraterrestrial stars. It’s worse when we allow the shallow values and frenetic pace of modern society to prevent us from seeing and following the aspirations and principles that are our own internal guiding stars.
Every day we’re challenged to rise above petty office politics, senseless family conflicts, negative emotions, and unbridled ego so we can live our lives large and be worthy of our place in the universe.
We may not be able to see the stars by looking up, but if we close our eyes and look inward, we can find and follow the best within us
Every Good Decision Starts With a Stop
More often than we like, most of us face choices that can have serious and lasting impact on our lives. Do we go along with the crowd? Do we tell someone off, quit a job, or end a relationship? Unfortunately, these decisions are not preceded by a drum roll warning us that the stakes are high. Even worse, we often don’t have a lot of time to figure out what to do.
It’s no surprise that most bad decisions – the ones that mess up our lives – are made impulsively or without sufficient reflection.
Ancient proverbs warn us to “Count to ten when you’re angry” or “Think ahead.” But anger and the lack of preplanning are only two factors that can impede excellent decision-making. Fatigue, fear, frustration, stress, and impatience also create obstacles to wise choices.
Just as we learned to look both ways before we cross the street, we can learn to systematically analyze every important decision-making situation to allow us to arrive at conclusions that are both effective and ethical.
Each decision, therefore, should start with a stop – a forced moment of reflection to help us clarify our goal, evaluate the completeness and credibility of our information, and devise an alternate strategy, if necessary, to achieve the best possible result. Stopping also allows us to muster our moral willpower to overcome temptations and emotions that could lead to a rash, foolish, or ill-considered choice.
While it’s great to have a day or two to sleep on a problem, or even a few hours, many situations don’t afford us that luxury. But a pause of even a few moments can often be enough.
This is Dimeji reminding you to think ahead because character counts.
It’s no surprise that most bad decisions – the ones that mess up our lives – are made impulsively or without sufficient reflection.
Ancient proverbs warn us to “Count to ten when you’re angry” or “Think ahead.” But anger and the lack of preplanning are only two factors that can impede excellent decision-making. Fatigue, fear, frustration, stress, and impatience also create obstacles to wise choices.
Just as we learned to look both ways before we cross the street, we can learn to systematically analyze every important decision-making situation to allow us to arrive at conclusions that are both effective and ethical.
Each decision, therefore, should start with a stop – a forced moment of reflection to help us clarify our goal, evaluate the completeness and credibility of our information, and devise an alternate strategy, if necessary, to achieve the best possible result. Stopping also allows us to muster our moral willpower to overcome temptations and emotions that could lead to a rash, foolish, or ill-considered choice.
While it’s great to have a day or two to sleep on a problem, or even a few hours, many situations don’t afford us that luxury. But a pause of even a few moments can often be enough.
This is Dimeji reminding you to think ahead because character counts.
Every Good Decision Starts With a Stop
More often than we like, most of us face choices that can have serious and lasting impact on our lives. Do we go along with the crowd? Do we tell someone off, quit a job, or end a relationship? Unfortunately, these decisions are not preceded by a drum roll warning us that the stakes are high. Even worse, we often don’t have a lot of time to figure out what to do.
It’s no surprise that most bad decisions – the ones that mess up our lives – are made impulsively or without sufficient reflection.
Ancient proverbs warn us to “Count to ten when you’re angry” or “Think ahead.” But anger and the lack of preplanning are only two factors that can impede excellent decision-making. Fatigue, fear, frustration, stress, and impatience also create obstacles to wise choices.
Just as we learned to look both ways before we cross the street, we can learn to systematically analyze every important decision-making situation to allow us to arrive at conclusions that are both effective and ethical.
Each decision, therefore, should start with a stop – a forced moment of reflection to help us clarify our goal, evaluate the completeness and credibility of our information, and devise an alternate strategy, if necessary, to achieve the best possible result. Stopping also allows us to muster our moral willpower to overcome temptations and emotions that could lead to a rash, foolish, or ill-considered choice.
While it’s great to have a day or two to sleep on a problem, or even a few hours, many situations don’t afford us that luxury. But a pause of even a few moments can often be enough.
It’s no surprise that most bad decisions – the ones that mess up our lives – are made impulsively or without sufficient reflection.
Ancient proverbs warn us to “Count to ten when you’re angry” or “Think ahead.” But anger and the lack of preplanning are only two factors that can impede excellent decision-making. Fatigue, fear, frustration, stress, and impatience also create obstacles to wise choices.
Just as we learned to look both ways before we cross the street, we can learn to systematically analyze every important decision-making situation to allow us to arrive at conclusions that are both effective and ethical.
Each decision, therefore, should start with a stop – a forced moment of reflection to help us clarify our goal, evaluate the completeness and credibility of our information, and devise an alternate strategy, if necessary, to achieve the best possible result. Stopping also allows us to muster our moral willpower to overcome temptations and emotions that could lead to a rash, foolish, or ill-considered choice.
While it’s great to have a day or two to sleep on a problem, or even a few hours, many situations don’t afford us that luxury. But a pause of even a few moments can often be enough.
Tell Someone You’re Proud of Them
An unanticipated benefit of the contest the Institute is conducting asking listeners to tell us how these commentaries have impacted their lives is that my almost 12-year-old daughter Carissa was impressed.
She has seen me write and heard me record these messages her entire life, but there was something about the contest letters that made her finally realize why it’s so important to me to burn the midnight oil almost every night.
I probably should be long past the vanity of enjoying praise and savoring kind words about my work, but I’m not – especially where my children are concerned. Maybe I’m shallow, but I love being a hero in their eyes.
I knew I reached a new level when Carissa asked me, “Do you think anyone has named their dog after you?” That may seem an off-the-wall question to you, but I understood what she was thinking. You see, my wife named our three dogs after L.A. Lakers – Kobe, Pau, and Sasha. To Carissa, the ultimate measure of a celebrity is to be admired enough so people will name their pets after you.
I had to admit I didn’t think I’d achieved quite that pinnacle of fame yet, but I was pleased that so many people do listen to and read what I have to say.
Still, the interchange reminded me how important it is to earn the admiration of one’s children. Having someone you care about express his or her pride in you is an eternal gift. Why not make it a point in the next few weeks to give that gift to all those you know who deserve it?
And if there’s someone you’re exceptionally proud of, name your pet after them. It would please Carissa.
She has seen me write and heard me record these messages her entire life, but there was something about the contest letters that made her finally realize why it’s so important to me to burn the midnight oil almost every night.
I probably should be long past the vanity of enjoying praise and savoring kind words about my work, but I’m not – especially where my children are concerned. Maybe I’m shallow, but I love being a hero in their eyes.
I knew I reached a new level when Carissa asked me, “Do you think anyone has named their dog after you?” That may seem an off-the-wall question to you, but I understood what she was thinking. You see, my wife named our three dogs after L.A. Lakers – Kobe, Pau, and Sasha. To Carissa, the ultimate measure of a celebrity is to be admired enough so people will name their pets after you.
I had to admit I didn’t think I’d achieved quite that pinnacle of fame yet, but I was pleased that so many people do listen to and read what I have to say.
Still, the interchange reminded me how important it is to earn the admiration of one’s children. Having someone you care about express his or her pride in you is an eternal gift. Why not make it a point in the next few weeks to give that gift to all those you know who deserve it?
And if there’s someone you’re exceptionally proud of, name your pet after them. It would please Carissa.
I Don’t Like It When You Lie to Me
Whenever I can, I take each of my four young daughters on an out-of-town trip so we can spend special alone-time together.
When my youngest daughter Mataya was seven, she accompanied me to a speech and we took a train to Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. We had a great time touring and talking about American history, the Liberty Bell, the Declaration of Independence, Abraham Lincoln, and even the first moon walk.
Mataya told me it was the best trip of her life, and I told her it was my best trip, too. She smiled, then looked at me with great earnestness. “Daddy, do you say that to all my sisters?”
You should know Mataya is extraordinarily principled. When she was four, she learned that some of the food she was eating was once a live animal. She decided on the spot to become a vegetarian, and she’s never wavered from that decision.
So her question was like an uppercut to my conscience. I tried to finesse my answer by saying how I really loved every trip with my girls, but that one had really been special.
She wasn’t buying it and nailed me with a family code we use. Whenever one of us wants a positively no-nonsense, truthful answer, we say, “Really, really?” It imposes an absolute obligation on the other person to be totally honest.
She “really-really-ed” me, so I confessed: “Yes, I’ve said that before.”
After a moment, she said, “So you lied to me.”
I tried to weasel out of it by telling her how much I did love our time together, but she stopped me cold with a line that made me proud of her and ashamed of myself: “Next time, just tell me it was one of the best trips of your life. I don’t like it when you lie to me.”
When my youngest daughter Mataya was seven, she accompanied me to a speech and we took a train to Philadelphia and Washington, D.C. We had a great time touring and talking about American history, the Liberty Bell, the Declaration of Independence, Abraham Lincoln, and even the first moon walk.
Mataya told me it was the best trip of her life, and I told her it was my best trip, too. She smiled, then looked at me with great earnestness. “Daddy, do you say that to all my sisters?”
You should know Mataya is extraordinarily principled. When she was four, she learned that some of the food she was eating was once a live animal. She decided on the spot to become a vegetarian, and she’s never wavered from that decision.
So her question was like an uppercut to my conscience. I tried to finesse my answer by saying how I really loved every trip with my girls, but that one had really been special.
She wasn’t buying it and nailed me with a family code we use. Whenever one of us wants a positively no-nonsense, truthful answer, we say, “Really, really?” It imposes an absolute obligation on the other person to be totally honest.
She “really-really-ed” me, so I confessed: “Yes, I’ve said that before.”
After a moment, she said, “So you lied to me.”
I tried to weasel out of it by telling her how much I did love our time together, but she stopped me cold with a line that made me proud of her and ashamed of myself: “Next time, just tell me it was one of the best trips of your life. I don’t like it when you lie to me.”
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