Category Archives: Journeys

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Why Happiness Is Old School

Happiness is all the rage these days. A good thing, I say.

Gretchen Rubin’s book has been on the New York Times bestseller list for a bazillion weeks. And Shawn Achor’s  getting 15 grand a pop for his keynotes on happiness.

(That sure would make me happy!)   images-1

Last month, there were 5 million Google searches worldwide using the keyword happiness.  And there are more than 25,000 books in print that have something to do with happiness.

So I guess it’s kinda a big deal.

I tend to think so… I talk about it a lot in my own keynotes.

It’s a key to our success, I think. And, it’s a choice.

A colleague challenged me last week over my happiness toot. He said that the pursuit of happiness is a narcissistic, superficial, self-serving preoccupation of the modern world.

I had to think about that for a bit.

Not that I don’t have a capacity for self-serving pre-occupation; but, I think my colleague is wrong.

Granted he grew up in a third world country. And I get it that folks who are scrounging  for food and just getting by don’t have the luxury of existential reflection. Don’t Worry, Be Happy isn’t likely a theme song.

And yet…

Some of the happiest folks I’ve ever come across in my travels are folks who have far fewer bells and whistles and toys than most of us have.

So I had to go back and dig deep into my thinking on this thing called happiness.

Turns out that long ago and far away Aristotle had some things to say about it: He thought happiness was the central purpose of human life!

But here’s the rub: Turns out that Aristotle and, later, John Locke and Thomas Jefferson (you, know that ‘pursuit of happiness thing’ in the Declaration), when they were all talking about happiness, weren’t referring to beach volleyball, cigarette boats or Paris in the springtime.  They were talking about fulfillment, the attainment of our human potential, and the depth and meaning of our lives.

I came across a great article from The Atlantic, a rather dense deconstruction of happiness and meaning. Seems like Aristotle probably had it right all along.

The article spends a fair bit of time reflecting on Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search For Meaning, a book I love. Frankl was the Austrian psychiatrist interned in the Nazi death camps, who lost his entire life’s work (and, oh yes, his wife and his parents too) . Through his words and his actions, Frankl taught that happiness is a byproduct of the choices we make in every moment, regardless of our circumstances; that happiness is really about valuing our own uniqueness; and that it is only in the service of others that our deepest meaning – and greatest happiness – can be found.

(Or perhaps finds us?)

The pursuit of happiness – that happiness so fundamental to the fabric of our nation – that happiness that we search for and write and talk about – that happiness that always seems to be just beyond our reach and yet so key to our success – is not about our things.

It’s about how we connect with others. It’s about how we show up in the world.

It is about how we choose to frame our lives. Even in the midst of hardship.

It is a necessary quest. It is essential to our wholeness.

It is our wholeness.

So go out and give and love and share and serve.

Don’t hold back.

Choose in every moment to live out the highest expression of yourself.

Choose to believe that you will make a difference in the lives of others.

And (don’t worry); you’ll be happy.

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Sight Unseen

I love ice climbing on frozen waterfalls. Often you can hear the water rushing underneath.  You can almost sense the motion. It feels alive.

But what happens when you can’t sense the motion?  What then?

I received an email from a coaching client late last week. She felt frustrated.  She’d made a lot of progress in 2012; scored a lot of victories. Now, though, she said, she couldn’t see much forward progress. She felt like she’d lost momentum.

I wondered aloud whether it was just the season of things.

The late great thought leader Jim Rohn spoke of the seasons of change; the seasons of our lives that always come; those season that always repeat themselves. The rhythm of things.  The springtime of planting and new life; the summer of cultivation and care; the fall of reaping and the harvest; the winter of darkness, contemplating and planning.

The seasons of things. Interconnected. Locked in balance. Necessary one to the other.

I look outside my window at winter’s frozen landscape here in the northeast. There doesn’t seem to be much of anything going on. But I know on some particularly warm day, not many weeks from now, flowers will bolt from the ground. And spring will be here.

Not by accident. Not without the work of winter.

Spring doesn’t just happen.  Stuff’s going on in the ground even now.

Momentum.  Just unseen.

I asked my client whether she was continuing to do the work… attending to her daily practices; whether she was ‘showing up’ even though she didn’t ‘feel the love.’

“Of course,” she said. Which was the right answer. (At least as far as her coach was concerned.)

Because, as I’ve written many times, it is the showing up, even in the face of failure – and especially when we can’t see the progress – that matters most.

The small, tiny, incremental, perhaps imperceptible, steps over time. The ulta-marathon of life.

We might say we hate the winter. But the winter always comes.

And so the spring.

I told my client (and myself): Do the work. Keep at the work.

Hold fast the vision.

And trust more.

Just trust. In the rhythm of things.

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SharpEnd

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Do You Have A BHAG?

This is not some special rare breed of dog reserved for a select few.

No, everyone should have a BHAG.

And what an especially auspicious time of year to think about getting one!

A BHAG is a big hairy audacious goal.

If you don’t have a BHAG, you should get busy now.

You see, a true-bred BHAG lights up our life, sets us on fire; it’s one of those things that gets us up in the morning and drives us forward. A well-fed BHAG gives shape and meaning to our lives.

Everyone, yes everyone, needs a BHAG.

A BHAG can change the world:

  • Martin’s dream was a BHAG;
  • JFK’s moon program was a BHAG;
  • Edison’s light bulb was a BHAG;
  • Salk’s vaccine was a BHAG;
  • Mandela’s vision was a BHAG.

Abraham Lincoln had a big-assed BHAG; Mother Theresa had a BHAG; the Dalai Lama has a BHAG.

Thank god, for BHAGs, huh?

But BHAGs can be much more personal too, like:

  • Writing a book – that’s a BHAG;
  • Running a marathon;
  • Launching a business;
  • Composing a song;
  • Getting a job;
  • Staring a family;
  • Healing a wound

Anything with a grand arc, a big palette; anything that requires us to move and stretch beyond our comfort zones qualifies as a BHAG.

Get quiet; get still. Set aside some good quality time to think about your BHAGs for the year to come. Journal them out, write them down. Make a vision board, a mind map. Brainstorm with your accountability partner, your mastermind group, your coach, your buddy, your friend. Move it outside yourself. Make it real. Commit to it. Set a deadline. Put it in motion. Now’s the time.

Without our BHAGs, our horizons become flat; our existences vanilla.

BHAGs build muscle and resiliency. They bring us face to face with frustration and failure. They bring us tears and laughter; sadness, joy and exaltation. They change the face of who we are. And like ripples in a pond, touch distant shores in ways we cannot comprehend.

BHAGs require nothing less than the full dimension of our humanity. Indeed, they are the very essence of who we are.

Sure, some BHAGs can be messy like those special breeds of dogs. But every life needs a BHAG.

And the world is waiting. So, don’t wait another minute – find yours now.

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This BHAG, climbing Denali, Mt. McKinley, occupied my imagination for more than three decades. If you need help bringing shape to yours, inquire about our coaching. It will change your life!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Just A Flesh Wound

King Arthur: [after Arthur’s cut off both of the Black Knight’s arms] Look, you stupid Bastard. You’ve got no arms left.
Black Knight: Yes I have.
King Arthur: *Look*!
Black Knight: It’s just a flesh wound.

–Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Here are some important questions: Do you focus on your weaknesses? Do you focus on what’s not going well?

Or, instead, do you focus on your strengths, your successes, your achievements?

These are important questions because the truth is this: What we focus on expands.

When we focus on what’s good, we get more of what’s good; when we focus on what’s not working, we’re likely to get more of what’s broken.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m a big believer in identifying our limiting beliefs and cutting them to ground. They’re energy suckers that lurk in the shadows. They need to be called out and eliminated.

I’m a big believer too in strategic assessment. If something’s not working, it doesn’t make sense to keep doing it over and over again.

But I’m not talking about the beliefs that trip us up or strategies that need tweaking.

What I’m talking about is the propensity to get stuck in hand-wringing, self-defeating self-fulfilling prophecy and pessimism.

We don’t have to look far these days for bad news, for things that aren’t going particularly well.

And all of us have suffered wounds in our lives: physical wounds, wounds of abuse, wounds of loss, wounds of criticism, money wounds, and wounds of self-esteem.

But most of us can also recall times in our lives when things have gone especially well, when things have been on a roll; and as my mentor, Tony Robbins says, “success leaves clues;” clues that can catapult us to new heights.

When we acknowledge those successes, when we hold them with gratitude, when we honor them: we honor what is good in ourselves, we honor our ability to co-create, we honor the divine within us.

We live in an age that is the greatest in all of our human history; on the eve of astounding ideas, technological advances and innovation; with opportunities for prosperity and abundance beyond our wildest imaginations.

Leadership expert Brendon Burchard says, “Unhitch yourself from the past — you won’t believe how fast you can run in the present.” The past is just the past.

We can kvetch; or we can create. There’s no time for both.

We may falter along the path. There may be a few flesh wounds along the way. But a loving Universe lifts us up and conspires for our success.

Let us acknowledge our blessings, all that is good, all that is working, all of our successes. May we learn; may we grow; may we prosper.

With grateful hearts.

Because: what we focus on expands.

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Identity Theft

What is your “I am” statement?

Don’t go skipping through this blog so fast. Stop and answer the question.

How we define ourselves really matters. It determines everything: It determines whether we succeed or fail; whether we prosper and thrive; or whether we suffocate, wither and die.

I’ve spoken recently to a number of groups comprised of folks who are unemployed, under employed, between jobs. I’ve heard countless “I am” statements that sound like “I am unemployed;” “I am unable to find a job;” “I’m unable to work.” “I am out of options.”

While all of these statements I am sure are heartfelt and seem true, they are also incredibly narrow, limiting, self-defining. They’re not the totality of potential.

And they’re certainly not the purview of only those who face employment challenges.

In my coaching, I hear “I am” statements all the time: “I am too old to do that.” I’m too out of shape.” “I’m too busy.” “I’m too stressed out.” “I’m not smart enough.” “I’m not someone who could ever do something like that.”

Then there are the organizations and the more-than-a-few substance-related groups that require their members to brand themselves with an “I am.”

And of course, my favorite “I am” stories are the ones I hear at networking gatherings and cocktail parties: “I’m an accountant.” “I’m a lawyer.” “I’m a financial planner.” “I’m a network marketer.”

We guys particularly enjoy these. There’s nothing like some good professional muscle flexing. “My ‘I am’ is definitely bigger than yours.”

“I am” statements become our realities, our narrow focus, our limiting beliefs; and the prisons of our minds.

It is the very worst form of identity theft: we steal our own potential by the tiny stories we make up about ourselves.

(And others.)

I love that scene from Exodus when Moses first meets God in the burning bush. God’s got a bunch of important assignments for Moses to be about. But before Moses heads back down the mountain, he wants to cozy up to God. So Moses asks for God’s name so that he can tell his peeps that he’s on a first name basis. God says, “I am who I am.” Tell them, “I am sent you.”

Of course generations have pissed and moaned, argued and fought, waged war and lobbed bombs over what they think ought to be tacked onto God’s “I am.”

But the bush wasn’t having it. Anything after the “I am” only serves to diminish.

The Universe is limitless; just as you are limitless.

Your “I am” statements can lay you flat; or make you fly.

So why not try on some new ones?

How about: I am abundant; I am loved; I am wealthy beyond measure.

Or try this one: I am unstoppable.

Think beyond the lines; think outside the box; in fact, just for a few moments, pretend there is no box.

What would yours be?

Write it down, make it real, share it in the comment section below.

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Ash Hole

Financial objectives; weight loss; fitness goals; career ladders; creative projects: sometimes it feels as if we’re making no forward progress; sometimes it feels as if we’re sliding backwards; in fact, sometimes it seems as if we’re caught in a deep dark hole.

If the goal is worthy and the strategy sound, there is only one real course of action: keep on keepin’ on.

I remember years ago, right after they re-opened Mt. St. Helens, my son, Joe, and I climbed to the crater rim. Seismically unstable, the trail had been shut down for years; the landscape scorched and shattered.

As we emerged from the forest, the upper slopes were covered with ash. We’d take a step up, and slide back; another step up, another slide back. It was like hiking on a beach that had been pitched at a 45º angle, grinding and relentless.

In the clear air under the hot sun, we could see our objective. But it never seemed to get any closer. Morale flagged; we were tempted to give up; it was so discouraging.

And so it often is.

When we get bogged down, it’s easy to get despondent, to lose the focus and resolve. We feel like quitting. But here’s the truth: it’s the small, steady efforts that yield the rewards. Over time, the plodding matters.

We hung our feet over the crater rim and laughed. The seeming futility throughout the effort of the climb had been almost comic. Yet the reward of that spectacular moment was beyond compare.

Darren Hardy tells the story of the man who cut his calorie consumption by just 125 calories a day; less than the “price” of a cup of cereal. After 31 months, the man had lost 33 ½ pounds. (125 calories a day x 940 days=117,500 calories x 1 pound/3500 calories=33 ½ pounds). I wonder how many times this dude looked in the mirror and said, “damn, I still look fat.”

At mile 32 of the Vermont 50 miler, I sat and wept. Thirty-two miles was the farthest I had ever run before; and 18 miles more seemed incomprehensible to me. I stood up and plodded onward: I picked those 18 off one mile at a time.

It’s one resume at a time; a few dollars more; an extra crunch or two; just another chapter. It’s one more lesson; another rejection; another practice session; a couple more laps around the track; just a draft or two more.

No matter how dark the hole or steep the ash, take a step; and then another.

You’ll be so glad you did.

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Playmate of the Year

Who are your playmates? Who are your buds? Who do you hang with?

It’s an absolutely essential question to consider. Because here’s a (potentially scary) truth: we are the average of the five folks we hang out with most. Average in terms of where we live, how we live, what we do, what we make.  And average in terms of what standard we hold ourselves to; average in terms of what we aspire to do, be and have.

I was away in Miami last week at a Tony Robbins event. There wasn’t a lot of downtime to write. I might as well have been in Detroit – a Tony program can go 16 hours a day, for days at a time.

But, no matter. Ann and I are big Robbins’ fans. We’ve been to a bunch of his events. And this past week, we graduated from his Mastery University, a program that has made – and will continue to make – a profound impact on our lives.

Here’s what’s special about a program like Tony’s: you get to be with folks from all over the world who have incredible vision; who thirst for more, aspire for more, dream for more; who want to live with passion and purpose; who want to serve and to lead; who want to make a profound difference in the lives of others; who want to change the world; and who truly believe that the best is yet to come.

And although they come from all walks of life, they all have one thing in common: a burning desire to create masterpieces of their lives; to make their lives extraordinary.

Even though Ann and I hold ourselves to incredibly high standards as professionals, as distance runners, as mountaineers, we always find that, when we spend time with our fellow seekers, we are called even higher; that there is always room to step our game up even further; that there is always more that we can do to live and play full out. And we come away excited and hopeful and filled with possibility.

All too often in our weary world, we struggle to get by.  It is our peeps, our buds, those we hang with, who lift us up, who pull (or push) us forward. And if you’re not careful, you can become enmeshed in the weariness of the world, pulled down by worry and anxiety, by pessimism and fear – and despair.

One of the greatest gifts you can give yourself is to find a group of like-minded folks who hunger for more, who want to set a new standard, who believe that anything is possible, who want incredible things for their lives, and for yours.

They’re out there.

Don’t settle. Don’t muddle. You deserve to fly.

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You Know You Want It

“Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.”                   

–Psalm 37:4

“Do you think it’s possible to be too young to follow your dreams?” she asked.

She was sitting in the third row; she looked to be about 16. She wanted to go to New York to pursue her passion for music.

I had been telling my audience how so many folks grow weary, and feel as if they are too old to fulfill their dreams.

My response: Our dreams are the whisper of Spirit, the call of the Divine. We are never too old – or too young – to pursue them.

People get nervous sometimes when I urge them to follow their hearts. It somehow feels selfish, self-centered, self-indulgent, wrong to steep in what genuinely makes them happy, to soak in what truly brings them joy. For some reason, it seems better to suffer, to plod, to muddle. More egalitarian; more noble.

Here’s what’s true: Our passions, the things that excite us, the music that sings in our hearts, the words that long to be written, the art that waits for the canvas, the ideas that spring from our minds: these are not idle fancies. They are the truest longings of our hearts, the deepest expressions of who we are, of who we can become, just waiting to explode into the world.

In his book Desire, John Eldredge writes, “There is a secret set within each of our hearts. It is the desire for life as it was meant to be.”  Many good people, Eldredge says, have been told that the path to a holy life requires us to kill our hearts’ desires, and call it sanctification.

But the truth is this: Our desires, our yearnings, the things we dream of doing, the longings of our heart: they are the call of an abundant Universe, the call of the Creator Spirit dwelling within us.

So get quiet. Get really quiet. And listen to the Still Small Voice of your heart.

Trust the call; trust the vision; trust the dream.

This is who you were always meant to be.

There are gifts that need to be shared that only you can share; there are lives that need to be touched that only you can touch.

I don’t care how old – or young – you are. The world is waiting for you.

Get busy.

 

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There Will Always Be Tigers

“I’m going to stop working in five years,” Peter said. “After I’ve finished paying for my son’s law school tuition.” (This after Peter told me that the average lifespan of a trial lawyer is 57. Peter, a trial lawyer, is 55.)

“I’m going to start the fitness program as soon as my son starts kindergarten.”

“I’m going to go back for my degree when my youngest is out of college.”

“We’re going to take the trip to France right after I finish the next project.”

“I can’t take time off this year; we’re down a staff member.”

“If the house didn’t need painting this year, we’d get away to the Cape.”

“If I could just find a new job and a fresh place to live, I could get out of this crappy relationship.” (This more than six months after we first had this conversation.)

“Before I do the product launch, I need to take the copywriting course and learn SEO.”

“I’m going to finish the book (really I am), but right now I just don’t have the time.”

As a coach, I hear every story there is about why it is that now is not the right time, the auspicious time, the convenient time to do what we feel called to do, drawn to do, really want to do; to do what makes our hearts sing, our spirits soar.

Perhaps out of fear (of success or failure), or convention (what will people think?) or inertia or resistance, we create (artificial) barriers to the lives we really want to live; we imagine forces that must be fought and overcome before we do what really makes us happy. We imagine tigers that must be slain.

I love that old Buddhist story of the monk who is being chased through the jungle by tigers. He comes to the edge of a cliff as the tigers close in behind him.  A hundred feet below, six more tigers claw at the base. The monk jumps from the cliff and on his way down grabs for a vine to stop himself. As he hangs by the vine, he sees a mouse gnawing at it. And just in that moment, he spies a fresh ripe strawberry growing out from the cliff face. The monk plucks the strawberry, tastes it and revels in its sweetness. ”My how good this is,” he says.

Here is the truth: Now is all we have. Now is the only moment in which we can create the lives we want to live.

As I write in Journeys, “dreams delayed are dreams denied.”

When we defer the call of our souls, we get angry and sad and bitter and resentful.

And the reality is, a step in the direction of our dreams usually doesn’t require a whole lot of time or a ton of resources or monumental change. We don’t need to throw the baby (or the husband) out with the bathwater. The step forward can be a tiny one. 

And then another.

Do what you’ve always dreamed of doing.

Do it now.

There is no time to waste.

There will always be tigers.

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Bad Weather and Dead Racoons

I’ve had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened.
― Mark Twain

Some folks seem to be blessedly care-free. They never seem to worry. Many, though, find themselves anxious and unsettled on a regular basis.

There is certainly plenty to worry about in the world: Afghanistan, unemployment, a nuclear Iran, the price of gas, death, disease and hurricanes to name just a few popular topics.

A coaching client of mine recently shared with me her worry. Her young daughter had a run-in with Leukemia. Now in complete remission, the daughter radiates health and happiness. The likelihood that she’ll live to a ripe old age is extremely high. Yet, my client says, “I can’t stop worrying that it (the disease) will come back. I want to enjoy every moment of the day. But I don’t know how.”

She worries too about animals getting hit by cars. (Hey, who am I to judge. I have my own fairly random list.)

Of course, as a coach, and as a Professional (Certifiable) Worrier, I had some pithy thoughts to share with her on the topic of worry. Here’s what I said:

1. You were raised in a household of worriers. How has that worked out for them? What catastrophes has worry prevented?

2. Worry is a habit; like biting your nails. With just a bit of mindfulness and effort, a habit can be broken and re-programed. Break the habit.

3. Worry is a waste; there is absolutely no return on investment for the time; it yields no outcome; so you literally piss away the time. Do you like to piss away time?

4. The chances of something extraordinarily good happening in any moment are just as high (or low) as the chances of something extraordinarily bad. You can focus on either. Why not choose to focus on the good?

5. You usurp the province of the Divine when you believe that your worry somehow controls the outcome in the Universe. Do you really want that job too?

6. The shit that actually befalls you (or someone you love) is almost never the shit you worry about. Maybe you should worry about that as well?

7. Worry is a choice. You can choose to worry. Or not. Not is better.

Here’s the truth: You’re gonna die; your parents are gonna die; your kids are gonna die; there will be wars and famine; there will be dead racoons in the road; there will be ups and down in the economy; and really unpleasant weather.

Life is way short. Choose well. Focus on the good.

Live, laugh, love, celebrate.

Don’t waste a minute of it.

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This is an encore of a post first published on June 14, 2012