I like to zag when everyone else is zigging. The road less traveled can be frightful and a delightful experience at the same time.
One of my zags has to do with respect. Most believe respect has to be earned. I disagree.
Respect is given, whether we like it or not. I had to respect my parents. If not, there were consequences. I had to respect my boss or I got fired. I have to respect my wife or she will eventually leave me.
Get the point?
It is not respect that is earned. It is trust. If I don't know you, I may withhold trust as I get to know you better. As I observe your behaviours, your personality, your thoughts, I will grant you little bits of trust along the pathway to a trusting relationship.
We trust our parents. They cared for us when wild dogs could've eaten our eyes out. There's a primal trust there.
I respect my parents because they respect me.
Giving respect to a complete stranger's thoughts, actions, beliefs when I first meet them comes from the need to be courteous and polite. They deserve my respect until they don't. They lose my respect as they lose respect for me.
There's a simple duality. You'll have my respect on day one. Respect me back and you'll have it to the end of time.
Where this whole respect thing gets hard is when I think of the relationship with children. I love our kids. But they don't always respect us. Silly little manipulators don't know any better.
In reviewing my respect values, I found that I disrespect my little manipulators in return for their childish banter. They need my respect no matter what.
As is usual, there has to be an exception to the rule.
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Karma
My kids' favourite expression is "curse you karma". They stole it off a cartoon they used to watch. When I'm disciplining them, they say that karma is waiting for me. Karma is their answer to right all of the wrongs of their world.
In a 9 year old's words, the definition of karma is that bad things will happen to someone who does bad things.
She doesn't see the other side. Good things will happen to someone who does good things too.
Although I believe the laws of attraction are true. We manifest into our lives what we do and want.
Karma gets blamed. Karma gets congratulated. Karma gets too much credit.
Can we agree that bad things happen to good people? And good things happen to the bad guys. Is it not our perception of those things that influences our opinions of the result?
Recently a friend complained about crap that happened to her only to be hit with an even deeper problem. She then wished bad karma on the perpetrator who caused her latest angst. I've been there. I knew exactly how she felt. The burning anger that needs to point blame on someone else. Is it not easier to blame someone else for our misfortunes than take 100% responsibility for them?
When we get beaten up, negativity distorts our vision and instead of figuring out how we can dust ourselves off, we wish ill on someone else and thus perpetually continue to attract crap into our lives.
When we are clear of anger, we know this can never work, but emotion knows how to cloud our view.
The negative thoughts are within us. They are daggers piercing our own soul. In wishing bad karma on someone else, we poison our own future. And we don't realize it.
Another friend who is a cancer survivor has a view of the world that is filled with rainbows and unicorns.. I've never heard her talk bad about anyone. Cancer slowed her down but did not disturb her eternal optimism.
Everybody has crap in their lives. Everybody has happiness. It is what we focus on that expands our universe. It's our choice what manifests into our future.
So if you have a choice, why wouldn't you choose happiness?
In a 9 year old's words, the definition of karma is that bad things will happen to someone who does bad things.
She doesn't see the other side. Good things will happen to someone who does good things too.
Although I believe the laws of attraction are true. We manifest into our lives what we do and want.
Karma gets blamed. Karma gets congratulated. Karma gets too much credit.
Can we agree that bad things happen to good people? And good things happen to the bad guys. Is it not our perception of those things that influences our opinions of the result?
Recently a friend complained about crap that happened to her only to be hit with an even deeper problem. She then wished bad karma on the perpetrator who caused her latest angst. I've been there. I knew exactly how she felt. The burning anger that needs to point blame on someone else. Is it not easier to blame someone else for our misfortunes than take 100% responsibility for them?
When we get beaten up, negativity distorts our vision and instead of figuring out how we can dust ourselves off, we wish ill on someone else and thus perpetually continue to attract crap into our lives.
When we are clear of anger, we know this can never work, but emotion knows how to cloud our view.
The negative thoughts are within us. They are daggers piercing our own soul. In wishing bad karma on someone else, we poison our own future. And we don't realize it.
Another friend who is a cancer survivor has a view of the world that is filled with rainbows and unicorns.. I've never heard her talk bad about anyone. Cancer slowed her down but did not disturb her eternal optimism.
Everybody has crap in their lives. Everybody has happiness. It is what we focus on that expands our universe. It's our choice what manifests into our future.
So if you have a choice, why wouldn't you choose happiness?
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Eyes are windows to the soul
In public, everyone looks so serious. Their faces look like they just sucked on a pickle. As an introvert, I can look serious when my heart is clapping with joy. I love people but they tire me easily. I need an escape hatch when I'm around a lot of people to keep me energized.
When I was 20, someone told me it was important to always look at people in the eyes. I have studied eye behaviour without much luck. I watch the shifties as people look around when I'm talking to them. Do they look around because they are searching for an answer or are they looking for a lie? Body language plays a role in these observations but I gotta figure out the eyes before I go to the rest of the body. Have you ever observed the person who can't maintain eye contact and wondered if you're freaking them out or if they have something to hide? There's the shy person who is so timid that they only thing he hides is his personality. He can be mistaken for a shady character who has something else to hide.
It's been tough for me to read a person through the eyes until yesterday.
Yesterday, I listened to the soothe sounds of John Denver while was I grocery shopping. Not only did music give me a rhythm, it gave me the mental"exit stage left" I was looking for. The rhythm gave me peace. In that solitude, I noticed people while I tapped "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" on my shopping cart. Most importantly I woke up to facial expressions. The music was my invisibility cloak. I was alone in my musically entrenched world. Under the cloak, I noticed everyone had a rhythm. The eyes were the dead give-away.
The racy eyes were in a hurry. The tired eyes wanted to go home. The hot eyes were mad at someone or something.
Eyes are supposed to be windows to the soul. I've tried to read people through their eyes before but it's never worked. Like a voodoo magic trick I expected the eyes to tell me everything I wanted to know. My mouth got in the way. As the mouth acted like the school bully, desiring attention, my ears were the mother hen accepting all sounds as fact and nurturing every word as a child needing attention.
My ears and mouth get in the way of my eyes. My ego pushes some of this. I try to keep him in the box, but he jumps out when we call his name.
With music in my ears, not listening to anyone and not thinking about what is being said, my eyes demonstrated an inexplicable beacon that I was never able to find.
My eyes will not deceive what my mouth has translated and which my ears have accepted as fact.
Eyes are absolutely windows to the soul. I finally experienced it for the first time.
When I was 20, someone told me it was important to always look at people in the eyes. I have studied eye behaviour without much luck. I watch the shifties as people look around when I'm talking to them. Do they look around because they are searching for an answer or are they looking for a lie? Body language plays a role in these observations but I gotta figure out the eyes before I go to the rest of the body. Have you ever observed the person who can't maintain eye contact and wondered if you're freaking them out or if they have something to hide? There's the shy person who is so timid that they only thing he hides is his personality. He can be mistaken for a shady character who has something else to hide.
It's been tough for me to read a person through the eyes until yesterday.
Yesterday, I listened to the soothe sounds of John Denver while was I grocery shopping. Not only did music give me a rhythm, it gave me the mental"exit stage left" I was looking for. The rhythm gave me peace. In that solitude, I noticed people while I tapped "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" on my shopping cart. Most importantly I woke up to facial expressions. The music was my invisibility cloak. I was alone in my musically entrenched world. Under the cloak, I noticed everyone had a rhythm. The eyes were the dead give-away.
The racy eyes were in a hurry. The tired eyes wanted to go home. The hot eyes were mad at someone or something.
Eyes are supposed to be windows to the soul. I've tried to read people through their eyes before but it's never worked. Like a voodoo magic trick I expected the eyes to tell me everything I wanted to know. My mouth got in the way. As the mouth acted like the school bully, desiring attention, my ears were the mother hen accepting all sounds as fact and nurturing every word as a child needing attention.
My ears and mouth get in the way of my eyes. My ego pushes some of this. I try to keep him in the box, but he jumps out when we call his name.
With music in my ears, not listening to anyone and not thinking about what is being said, my eyes demonstrated an inexplicable beacon that I was never able to find.
My eyes will not deceive what my mouth has translated and which my ears have accepted as fact.
Eyes are absolutely windows to the soul. I finally experienced it for the first time.
Growing old
Do we stop playing because we grow old or do we grow old because we stop playing?
My grandfather was 92 when he died. He played games up until his death. He loved to laugh and thoroughly enjoyed a good teasing.
One Christmas, I vividly remember my elderly grampy lifting my wife on a set of bathroom scales to find out her weight. He was at least 85 at the time. She kicked and screamed as he hoisted her on the liar's pad.
His body failed him in his nineties. His joie de vivre did not.
I think we grow old because we forget how to play. Play like a school child. Play like no one's watching. Even if they are, who cares? Having fun is not a bad thing.
I'm my true self when I laugh out loud while slapping my leg. Yet I protect that laughter in fear of someone discovering the playful, youthful, lightening eyed me.
If you ask a child what they want most out of life you'll hear they want to grow up. If you ask most adults what they want most out of life, you'll hear the opposite answer. Adults want to stay young. Not the peer pressure, no experience in anything young. Adults are looking for experiences in which they can feel young.
Feeling comes from doing. What are you doing to stay young.
The older I get, the less I care about what others think about me. Dancing in the middle of the grocery isle, embarrassing my kids is so much fun. Not just because of the look I get from them. It's also from the adrenaline rush of doing something I would never have done as a young man. It's like streaking in public without removing the clothes. That's a story for a different time.
Keep playing and youth will follow you around like a hungry cat.
My grandfather was 92 when he died. He played games up until his death. He loved to laugh and thoroughly enjoyed a good teasing.
One Christmas, I vividly remember my elderly grampy lifting my wife on a set of bathroom scales to find out her weight. He was at least 85 at the time. She kicked and screamed as he hoisted her on the liar's pad.
His body failed him in his nineties. His joie de vivre did not.
I think we grow old because we forget how to play. Play like a school child. Play like no one's watching. Even if they are, who cares? Having fun is not a bad thing.
I'm my true self when I laugh out loud while slapping my leg. Yet I protect that laughter in fear of someone discovering the playful, youthful, lightening eyed me.
If you ask a child what they want most out of life you'll hear they want to grow up. If you ask most adults what they want most out of life, you'll hear the opposite answer. Adults want to stay young. Not the peer pressure, no experience in anything young. Adults are looking for experiences in which they can feel young.
Feeling comes from doing. What are you doing to stay young.
The older I get, the less I care about what others think about me. Dancing in the middle of the grocery isle, embarrassing my kids is so much fun. Not just because of the look I get from them. It's also from the adrenaline rush of doing something I would never have done as a young man. It's like streaking in public without removing the clothes. That's a story for a different time.
Keep playing and youth will follow you around like a hungry cat.
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Joy is not just a woman's name
I believe we are born to experience joy.
Joy is not found with money.
Joy is found in serving others.
Do you want joy? Help someone today.
I try to lead a healthy, helpful life. I stop to push cars out of snowbanks. I listen to others and their woes in business. I am giving of my time and my knowledge. But stuff can get in the way. I get busy and don't notice the small things. I don't always see that person who could use a simple hand. My body is here. My mind is thinking about the next thing that has to be done. I get busy with work and forget to look life in the eye.
We let joy slop around the busyness barrel, hoping to find it in some elusive cranny.
Have you ever noticed it is more fun giving a gift than it is to receive one. Joy is inside all of us exploding at the seams waiting for us to help someone out.
One of my goals for this year is to be a better person. Part of that goal is to perform 4 random acts of kindness per month. That's one per week. It can be as easy as buying the next person in line at the coffeehouse a warm beverage.
I'm sure I'll learn a lot about this random acts of kindness thing. Wish me luck. No, wait. Luck has nothing to do with it. Wish me success.
My joy depends on it.
Joy is not found with money.
Joy is found in serving others.
Do you want joy? Help someone today.
I try to lead a healthy, helpful life. I stop to push cars out of snowbanks. I listen to others and their woes in business. I am giving of my time and my knowledge. But stuff can get in the way. I get busy and don't notice the small things. I don't always see that person who could use a simple hand. My body is here. My mind is thinking about the next thing that has to be done. I get busy with work and forget to look life in the eye.
We let joy slop around the busyness barrel, hoping to find it in some elusive cranny.
Have you ever noticed it is more fun giving a gift than it is to receive one. Joy is inside all of us exploding at the seams waiting for us to help someone out.
One of my goals for this year is to be a better person. Part of that goal is to perform 4 random acts of kindness per month. That's one per week. It can be as easy as buying the next person in line at the coffeehouse a warm beverage.
I'm sure I'll learn a lot about this random acts of kindness thing. Wish me luck. No, wait. Luck has nothing to do with it. Wish me success.
My joy depends on it.
What's the definition of good scotch
I hate to admit this but I know as much about scotch as I know about women.
My friend Daniel can speak at lengths about the six regions of Scotland and the distinct taste each of the regions produce. Watching him talk about scotch is theatre. Entertaining, informative, and drunk with delight, he shares his love not from the upper deck where only nose-waving snobs exist. The one thing I remember about Daniel's instruction is his definition of a good scotch.
As he starts his soliloquy, he asks, "What's the definition of a good scotch?".
Answer: One that you will enjoy.
In looking for other answers to elusive questions, I found the same answer to a lot of life's pressing questions..
What's the definition of a good exercise routine, good diet, good life, good family, good house, good job, good business, good vacation?
Enjoy!
My friend Daniel can speak at lengths about the six regions of Scotland and the distinct taste each of the regions produce. Watching him talk about scotch is theatre. Entertaining, informative, and drunk with delight, he shares his love not from the upper deck where only nose-waving snobs exist. The one thing I remember about Daniel's instruction is his definition of a good scotch.
As he starts his soliloquy, he asks, "What's the definition of a good scotch?".
Answer: One that you will enjoy.
In looking for other answers to elusive questions, I found the same answer to a lot of life's pressing questions..
What's the definition of a good exercise routine, good diet, good life, good family, good house, good job, good business, good vacation?
Enjoy!
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Goals for 2015
It's a new year and I just finished my goals for the upcoming 365
days.
Don't misinterpret me. These are not resolutions. I gave up
resolutions a long time ago. These are things I want to achieve for the year.
There are only five of them.
The Fab Five is what they will be called.
Two of them are personal goals in trying to be a better person.
The others are business related as I aim to achieve my business objectives.
I spent a week thinking about the Fab Five. I don't want to waste
another year. I want to achieve something remarkable.
It started with a review of what I want out of my life. A real
question that isn't easy to answer. It starts with knowing what one wants.
Knowing, not thinking...
I went wrong last year by allowing my goals to be dependent on
someone else's decision. It became unrealistic in the short term because
everything I wanted to do last year depended on someone agreeing to sell me
their business. Which they didn't do. They will want to sell me their business
someday but I can't control that right now.
So this year, with the dream still lingering like a musty pair of
unwashed underwear, I set annual goals that were achievable and were not
dependant someone else's decision.
So here are my goals for the year:
1. Weigh 170 lbs
2. Be a better dad/husband/person
3. Make $150,000 this year
4. Start a coaching company
5. Buy two businesses with two operating partners. Both have to be
found.
Each goal has a minimum of five actionable items or smaller goals
that will result in the annual goal being achieved.
For an example, I've identified five things I need to do to be a
better dad/husband/person.
- Do dishes for my family five times per week
- Clean two bathrooms for my wife each week
- Mop kitchen floors each week
- Perform 4 random acts of kindness/month
- Find a church to expose my kids to the word of God and go at
least twice/month.
So there you have it.
It's a new year. A clean slate... What are you going to do
different this year?
Resolutions are for the fragile, good intended dreamers seeking
change but not willing to do the work.
Goals are for the strong minded, fierce competitors fighting the
distractions of life to make it better for themselves, their families, and
their communities.
Are you a fighter or are you numbed by the electromagnet field
from your television?
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