The language of love

"I'm in the mood for love, just because you're near me"...


The way we are loved is not the same way in which we love.

We can only do what we think we know. We use our experiences to guide us through the dark forest called life in order to get to the other side.

We raise our kids the way our parents raised us or as how we wished our parents would have raised us. In essence they come from good and bad experiences.

Luke 6:31 states, "Do unto others as you would have them to do unto you". We call this the Golden Rule.

But there's a flaw with this rule. If people loved us the same way we loved them, our love tanks would feel empty inside.

Typically, we do love our spouse the way we want to be loved.

Twice in the past two weeks someone mentioned a book called, "The five love languages", by Gary Chapman. The first time I heard about it, I nodded and listened to the other person but I had no intention of buying the book. Then within a week, someone else mentioned the book. Before he finished, he offered to give me his second copy.

I've never been opposed to reading "love" books. I've read John Gray's book about Venus and Mars.

This book is different. It has helped me understand not only the relationship with my wife but with everyone else around me.

The five languages of love are as follows:
1. Quality Time
2. Words of Affirmation
3. Receiving Gifts
4. Acts of Service
5. Physical Touch

Everybody has a dominant language. I wrote in previous blog how I was complimenting my wife every day. She loved the positive words of affirmation, but when we sat down and discussed it, I found out she felt they were empty words.

Going beyond my comfort zone, I didn't know what else to do. This book explained to me.

After a few experiments I discovered my wife's main love language is "Acts of Service". Doing the dishes, making breakfast, cleaning the house, or doing anything that helps her in her daily routine makes her feel loved. One morning, totally out of character, I folded the laundry.

Her eyes revealed feelings for me again.

After I was certain of her love language, I sat down with her and explained what I had done. Never having verbalized what makes her loved, she realized something profound about herself. And more importantly where it came from.

We also discovered together she was loving me in the way she wanted to be loved: "Acts of Service". She didn't know that having a hot meal waiting for me when I got home was nice, but it didn't fill my love tank.

For me, "Words of Affirmation" is my love language. She can do anything she wants to show her love for me, but as long as she doesn't use of "words of affirmation", I won't feel that extra special way.

Then we took the conversation one step further. What were our children's love languages? Our son was simple. He likes to spend time with us. It took a few minutes but we think our daughter's love language is the same as mine.

Now we armed with new information to solidify our marriage and our parent/child relationships. We can also use this information to enhance relationships with other people outside of our family circle.

Two rules to negotiating

Too often, we are faced with a negotiation. For some of us, they are difficult because negotiations are an art form.  Just like someone knows calculus, negotiating is an area of study that some have mastered while others have not.

To negotiate with a master is a waste of time. The apprentice gets chopped in two offering more than they should. It's not their fault. They don't know the difference.

There are two valuable lesson to be learned in negotiating.  I know these two rules because I've broken them so many times and have come out on the wrong end of a deal too many times to count.

Rule number 1: Never be too quick to make a deal.
Although I believe a deal can always be worked out, I'm positive and proactive when I want to move forward on a project. I jump too fast and always put my best foot forward.

This leaves me with no "wiggle room" and I end up settling for a deal that is less than ideal

The greatest lesson I ever learned in negotiating is the use of "No" as the starting position. This works  like gold when someone is approaching you with an offer, a proposition or a product. If the approaching party is really interested in what you have, they will come back with a better offer. If not, they will go away not wasting any more of your time.

In most cases, I'm the approaching party so I see this strategy a lot.


Rule number 2: He who speaks first loses.
If you're trying to negotiate a deal, let the other party speak first.
Offer a leading question to continue to get more out of the opposition. Learn more about their style and worry less about the offer. The more you learn about their style, the quicker you are able to use it to your advantage.

I've never been accused of not liking the sound of my own voice, so rule two is also hard for me. It's awkward. It feels like I should say something when it gets quiet, but I don't. And the longer I wait, the more anxious the other party gets. The discomfort goes both ways. My discomfort is expected and calculated.

One time, I had a house for sale. The listed price was a bit high for the market but I got an interested party. He approached me with a low-ball offer about $50,000 less than the list price. I told him to go back and re-work his numbers. I wasn't interested in negotiating with him. He asked me to come down in price. To which I said, I will treat you as serious when you start acting it. I instructed him to go home and if he was still interested to give me his best price. No more negotiating...

It pissed him off. He walked out of our meeting but called me two days later with a very reasonable offer.

Whether you're selling a house, a car, a product or a business, never forget these two rules. They will save you time and money if used properly

Brand growth or brand confusion

I am sitting in a cafe next to a fireplace. The chair is comfortable. The decor is anything but utilitarian. Above the fireplace sits a television playing the latest national news. There were barely any seats when I came in. But the one next to fireplace was calling my name as if I were at a Starbucks.

The conversations around me swirl like leaves in the autumn air. There's a lot of beeping, humming chitter chatter and employees squeezing back and forth as they make the next order to industrial perfection. 

If I had just woken from a coma, I would never have guessed I was sitting in a Tim Horton's. Tim Horton's has always been the "blue collar" coffeeshop. With the upgrades, it is clearly trying to attract a different crowd. 

I am the only one taking advantage of its free wifi. I'm the only person with a laptop. I've been saying for years that working on a laptop at Tim Horton's sounded weird. Now that I'm doing, I feel like a high school student who has no friends. I'm the fish out of water. I'm the outcast. The people here are regular people. Everyone is wearing jeans, sneakers and workboots. Pounding away on my Apple MacBook Air, in dress shoes, dress pants and button down shirt, I dress and act exactly the opposite of these people. Now I know how the guy who goes to Starbucks in steel toe workboots feels (if there is such a guy). 

The gentleman across the dining room glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. I'm sure he's thinking, "Who's that weirdo with the laptop?" 

The chair on the other side of the fireplace sits empty as customers don't gravitate toward it nor the crazy guy with the shiny computer. 

So why am I here?

I have a meeting in an hour. 

I could have gone somewhere else, but that would mean nestling in at Starbucks, and as I got comfortable, I would have had to leave. 

So I sit here and wait for my appointment admiring the new decor of this newly built restaurant cafe.

Is the new direction Tim Horton's going in going to be effective in increasing sales? I don't think it's going to stop the regular customers from buying.

Will it encourage a new crowd? Based on my discomfort this morning, it's going to take time. A lot of time. I doubt I'll see many people pounding away on laptops anytime in the near future.

I go to Starbucks because I can sit there all day and not feel like I'm taking away profit from the business. Tim Horton's is built on speed. The disruption of speed and wifi baffles my brain. I'm sure it makes sense to someone but strategically I feel weird to be taking up a seat when so many people would love to have it. 

I've been here 20 minutes and just took my first sip of coffee. Imagine if there were 10 other people like me in here right now. Someone would have to call the loitering police. The business cannot support that type of service. 

Tim Horton's needs a lot of customers to make a profit. They need people to move. They need the drive thru to move quickly just like they need dining room customers to leave quickly. 

There was a  time when you could find a "no loitering" sign near the door. I haven't found it yet so maybe it no longer exists to fit with the wifi idea. 

The strategy of this re-design is to encourage a new clientele: youth and working professionals. I don't see a lot of either in here today.

I'm not sure this strategy will work. 

Maybe I'm setting the bar too high. A customer just commented about the decor, "It's nicer than McDonalds".

If the strategy is to pull back customers who have left for McDonalds, maybe they are on to something. 

All this reminds me of the kids who came to school on the first day of a new year with a whole new wardrobe. The change in clothes gave them renewed hope, esteem and confidence. Deep down, they were the same people with the same friends with the same attitudes.  

You can put lipstick on a pig. It'll still be a pig, with pretty lips.

Tim Horton's is still the utilitarian coffeeshop. Only now it has pretty lips.

Women are stronger than men

Sitting here, typing away at the screen, I have come to the realization that women are the stronger sex.

Men have larger muscles, so they can physically lift heavier stuff.

But that's where it ends.

When I get a cold, I lie in bed for two days taking enough cold medication to effectively knock me until I start to feel better. The virus runs through my body while I lie in a comatose state. Life continues to swirl around me. The kids still need to be cared for. But I lie in wait for a better day.

My wife gets a cold and her voice changes. She gets up in the morning, puts on her best smile and gets to work. She may whimper a bit but she goes about her business like nothing is wrong. I always admired her for that.

This week, I did something to my back. I can't sleep. I can't walk for too long. I can barely stand up. It hurts all the time. And the wimp in me has emerged like a pro.

At first, like any cramp or pain, I sloughed it off. It will just go away I thought.

But it didn't.

It got worse.

Today is the eighth day of pain. And I'm useless. Stuck between a heating pad and medication, I can't do much. I can't sleep without taking melatonin. I can't walk without advil. I can't help with the kids.  I can't work or play. Life is seemingly over.

My life is in limbo as I deal with this pain and wait for an appointment with a chiropractor.

My wife has had back pain like this for years. Although in pain, she doesn't stop. She doesn't slide silently into the TV room like an old dog looking for death.  She goes about her day in pain, slipping on the beautiful smile I fell in love with.

And I don't know how she does it.

I believe God made women bear children because the species would not have survived if it were a man's responsibility.

Men might be stronger with lifting heavy items. But we can't bear the same pain as women.

Today, I thank all those women in my life who are so strong.

I don't know how you do it, but I'm grateful.

The story of your life in one sentence

Sit down and write the story of your life in one concise sentence.

Without any cues, the exercise will be impossible. There is too much that happened, too many relationships, too many experiences to summarize them into one sentence.

The story of our lives will be told either in our lifetime or in our death.
Wouldn't it be best the story is told by the main character while he is still alive?

Branding, by definition, is a story embedded in the mind of the market. A good story has the ability to pull emotions out of the audience.

People are also brands. Children tell stories about their parents, brothers, sisters. Parents tell stories about their children to whoever will listen.

The strength of the brand lies in the ability of the individual to tell a compelling story.

I learned how to tell the story of your life without even knowing you. I don't have to know you and I can tell you the underlying theme of your life.

The answers are in your heroes!
We emulate our heroes and they in turn plant their hopes and dreams into our lives.

I know this sounds a bit nuts, but allow me to show you how this works.

Heroes aren't just the people we look up to. They are mostly characters we invest our time with.

Take twenty minutes and write down your top five favourite movies, tv shows, bible passages, characters, poems, books. If you don't know the bible and don't know what a book looks like, skip it. But do the rest.

Don't give it any thought, just write your favourite stuff out on a piece of paper.

Then look at the list and see if there's a pattern in the list.

Some won't make sense.
This exercise is nuts anyways, so it doesn't matter.

You will see a pattern. If you don't, message me with your list and I'll try to find it for you.

The things you gravitate toward are already inside you. You may or may not have known it.

I did this exercise with a client and didn't know any of the books, movies or tv shows she mentioned. After she explained what she liked about each of them, I saw her story clearly.

She has the same story as mine.
Now I know why I like working with her so much.

This is crazy.

Hockey is supposed to be fun

I love hockey. And so does my son.

The scratching ice, the crisp, thick air penetrates the soul of every hockey fan.

I'm not good at the game. There was a time I could waste days pretending I was a hockey superstar.

I see me in my son's eyes. Sometimes I'm too busy to play with him. He pretends to be Sidney Crosby. He's excited to play organized hockey for the first time.

We don't want to take anything away from our son's childhood.

When I was his age, I begged my parents to play. But my parents couldn't afford it.

We never pushed our boy to like hockey. It's in his blood.

He started by playing on a team where the other kids have been skating for 7 years. They've been playing hockey for 5. Needless to say he's behind.

He loves it.

I was worried after the first game. He didn't touch the puck much as he wobbly skated. He spent  more time on his butt than on his skates.

Was he discouraged?
Was he be disappointed?
Was he mad?

I didn't know what to expect when I got in the dressing room. I rushed to him ready to console his boyish ego.

He was smiling. He was talking about all the good things he had done and how much fun he was having.

And that's all we wanted for him. To have fun.

We saw noticeable improvements in his hockey sense by game two. He was more aggressive and less wobbly. He was still slow but he was more involved in the play and less on his butt.

Every hockey parent knows this, but being new we weren't aware of it. The hockey bullshit started.  For some reason, there is always one parent who believe his kid is going to make the NHL. They believe that winning is the only thing that matters.

One parent commented on how our boy should go down a level to learn the game better. A fair statement but our son doesn't want to play with kids a year younger than him. He wants to play with friends from his class.

A second parent told us that if he stayed with his age group, it wasn't going to be fair for the rest of the players. Although recreational hockey is supposed to be fun, the boys have more fun when they win. Having kids who can't keep up will most definitely handicap the chances of winning.

I couldn't believe my ears. The second parent went on to say that as a parent I shouldn't put my child in a situation where other kids are going to blame him for the loss. I should provide a positive environment so that he doesn't fail, feel belittled, or feel inferior.

IT'S MY FAULT!!!!

Do these people actually believe their own bullshit sandwiches they force down others throats?
This is recreational hockey.

I coached baseball this summer. We didn't win a lot of games. But everyone played equally. And everyone tried hard. We didn't keep score. The kids tried but their attention spans couldn't keep up. When the kids thought they won, they won. When they thought they lost, they lost. We didn't tell them either way, mainly because we didn't know. The score didn't matter.

The only thing that matters is that kids have fun playing a fun game.

If kids don't have fun when they lose, then they shouldn't be playing.

Every game has a winner and loser, when you keep score. Hockey is one of those sports that keeping score seems to be important.

But it's not.

My child will play where he wants.
If kids blame him, we'll give him the skills to deal with adversity.
If parents blame us, we'll bite our tongues and laugh at their own immaturity.

If parents blame him, we'll cut out their throats.

Hockey makes good people crazy. Did you know that?

The clock said 4:18

I rolled over in bed wondering what time it was. I had been awake for a few moments as thought particles entered by consciousness at warp speed.

How could this be? I just went to bed.

The previous day shook me at 3:47 am so I could prepare for an annual pilgrimage to Austin, Texas. After a long travel day, dinner with old and new friends combined with a nightcap, I rested my head down to see the clock scream 11:58 pm. Living in a timezone 2 hours earlier, the clock keeper in my brain translated the time to 1:58 am. I had been up for almost 24 hours. 

No wonder it was time to go to bed.

How the hell could I not sleep with only 4 hours and 20 minutes of shut eye? I had to be tired. I needed the rest. Today is going to be a thought provoking, eye screamer type of day that requires my full attention and concentration. There will be no snooze button in the middle of this day.

But right now, I can’t sleep.

Thoughts are racing through my brain synapsis like Formula 1 racecars in Monaco. The sound of the engines are deafening my ears. My body vibrates as the roaring cars slither across the pavement. My heart skips a normal beat as I realize I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be on this fine Thursday morning at 4:18 am.

It’s time to get up. I have two choices: exercise my body or my brain. I decide to make the body wait. The brain must release its juices or I will forever regret this little window of opportunity, the universe has bestowed upon he.

I start by reading a book I’ve already read. But it’s like I’m reading it for the first time. There’s something new I hadn’t seen before. With every page, I’m sitting further up in my bed. I’m getting more excited.

That’s it. I must write, I mutter to myself. I shower my decayed thoughts from the day before.

Today is a new day. Everything starts fresh today. Sleep has washed away my unimportant memories. And today I write with a clean slate that every new morning brings.

I can’t sleep. But… I feel awake.