I'm guessing it was 25 years or so ago that I went to visit my college roommate, her husband, and her young son. I really don't remember what age he was, but little. I wanted to bring something to him, but I really knew nothing of little boys. At the time, I lived in Eugene, Oregon, so I went to the University of Oregon bookstore, and I bought him a University of Oregon pennant. End of story or so I thought.
Fast forward how ever many years it has been, and I learned two or three years ago that the little boy, now an accomplished man in his mid-20s, has been smitten with Oregon sports teams ever since. While I was working at my computer this afternoon, I got a text from his mom. The family has finally sojourned to the Mecca for Oregon Duck fans: Autzen stadium. My friend sent a picture of her son in front of the stadium where they were attending a football game.
I slumped back into my chair and had a flash. How could I have ever known that such a little thing as a souvenir pennant would grab a young man's attention for decades? A humbling thought.
That really set me thinking. I didn't even remember giving him the pennant until his mom and dad reminded me. (I do remember that the toddler and I had quite a love affair during that visit. How very sweet to recall.) I wonder what else I have given children in my life that I have forgotten about, which has impacted their lives. I am not thinking about "stuff," like pennants or other gifts. My concern is of acts of kindness or unkindness, thoughtfulness or sleight.
We really never know when we do something for or to a child what long-term impact the act will have. As part of my personal growth session this week, one of the things we did was to create a "conflict history." Some of the things in our lives were not huge in the normal scheme of things, but because of timing or impact, they have colored how we faced the events of our lives since then.
I wonder about the two little miracles that are in my life right now. ("Anticipation," 8/8 and "Through the Eyes of a Three-Year-Old, 8/9) How very mindful I will be in the future of what I do or say and how it may color their young lives. I want them to remember our times together as planting seeds of love and excitement for when they are older, like happened today. I don't ever want to end up on someone's "conflict history" 30 years from now. The only way I can avoid that is by being very conscious and intentional about every moment we have together.
Perhaps there is nothing that we do that more influences the world we leave behind than how we love and treat the children around us. That is how we make miracles happen. That is how we change the world.
Showing posts with label making a difference. Show all posts
Showing posts with label making a difference. Show all posts
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Monday, September 1, 2014
Labor Day
Today is Labor Day. When I was teaching, school started in mid-August, so the early September holiday was a good opportunity for me to give my university students an extra credit assignment. "What is this holiday about?" I'd ask, "and how does it relate to the subject of this class?"
I taught a number of classes--human resource management, organizational behavior, management strategy, and even labor relations. Labor Day had something to do with all of them. If you go to Google today, you will read, "Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers."
My students didn't get off that easily.
In the late 19th Century, a lot of blood was shed to acquire for workers basic rights that most of us take for granted today--paid vacation, sick leave, and benefits packages. While many achievements were the result of labor-management contracts that were assured by the National Labor Relations Act (NLRA,) which was passed in 1935, to my mind, the real impact of the labor movement came from legislation: legislation that prohibited child labor and made school attendance mandatory, a minimum wage, a 40-hour work week which allowed for overtime pay, and a reasonably safe workplace.
To a certain extent, the success of labor unions in accomplishing so much legislatively may have led to weakening the movement. With that weakening, coupled with the advent of technology which allows it, has come the 24x7 work life. As more and more employers have figured out ways to circumvent overtime pay, work days and work weeks have expanded dramatically.
In the years when American workers were treated more sanely, they produced incredible creativity and breakthroughs in productivity. In the last decade of the 20th Century many employers actually expressed and demonstrated an interest in the souls, spirits, and passions of their workers. A "Spirit in Business" movement blossomed across the country. (Really across the world, but my concern is what is happening with American workers.)
My first two books Leading from the Heart and The Alchemy of Fear were written to leaders who wanted to foster a more compassionate workplace. Not because the NLRB said that they had to negotiate or one piece of legislation or another required them to do so, but because in their hearts they knew it was the right thing to do, and they wanted to do the right thing.
On Labor Day, I am concerned that the kind of compassion and caring by employers that was reasonably common in the 1990s has all but disappeared today. I truly hope that people, who read this post, will reassess and ask themselves, "What can I do to make work in American more humane, more caring, and more compassionate?" Of course, it is easier to make an impact from a formal management role, but, like I said in Leading from the Heart, we are all leaders and have within us the ability to make a difference.
The difference that I am committing to make is to be more compassionate to myself. If my bosses choose not to, then I have to draw a line. I also commit to not feeling guilty because workaholic coworkers choose to work the despicable hours. Finally, I will do a lot of prayer work to find my way to a work situation where compassion is not only present but still rules the day.
I taught a number of classes--human resource management, organizational behavior, management strategy, and even labor relations. Labor Day had something to do with all of them. If you go to Google today, you will read, "Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers."
My students didn't get off that easily.
In the late 19th Century, a lot of blood was shed to acquire for workers basic rights that most of us take for granted today--paid vacation, sick leave, and benefits packages. While many achievements were the result of labor-management contracts that were assured by the National Labor Relations Act (NLRA,) which was passed in 1935, to my mind, the real impact of the labor movement came from legislation: legislation that prohibited child labor and made school attendance mandatory, a minimum wage, a 40-hour work week which allowed for overtime pay, and a reasonably safe workplace.
To a certain extent, the success of labor unions in accomplishing so much legislatively may have led to weakening the movement. With that weakening, coupled with the advent of technology which allows it, has come the 24x7 work life. As more and more employers have figured out ways to circumvent overtime pay, work days and work weeks have expanded dramatically.
In the years when American workers were treated more sanely, they produced incredible creativity and breakthroughs in productivity. In the last decade of the 20th Century many employers actually expressed and demonstrated an interest in the souls, spirits, and passions of their workers. A "Spirit in Business" movement blossomed across the country. (Really across the world, but my concern is what is happening with American workers.)
My first two books Leading from the Heart and The Alchemy of Fear were written to leaders who wanted to foster a more compassionate workplace. Not because the NLRB said that they had to negotiate or one piece of legislation or another required them to do so, but because in their hearts they knew it was the right thing to do, and they wanted to do the right thing.
On Labor Day, I am concerned that the kind of compassion and caring by employers that was reasonably common in the 1990s has all but disappeared today. I truly hope that people, who read this post, will reassess and ask themselves, "What can I do to make work in American more humane, more caring, and more compassionate?" Of course, it is easier to make an impact from a formal management role, but, like I said in Leading from the Heart, we are all leaders and have within us the ability to make a difference.
The difference that I am committing to make is to be more compassionate to myself. If my bosses choose not to, then I have to draw a line. I also commit to not feeling guilty because workaholic coworkers choose to work the despicable hours. Finally, I will do a lot of prayer work to find my way to a work situation where compassion is not only present but still rules the day.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Personal Leadership
Jonathan Fleming is a Brooklyn man, who was recently exonerated of a murder he didn't commit after spending 25 years in prison. He was released with $93 from his prison account and has been living from cousin to cousin. Many would be angry, but not Jonathan. Jonathan was just happy to be out of prison and wanted to go to school. When he was released, he said, "Today's the first day of the rest of my life."
Enter Alex Sutaru, a Wall Street banker, who was impressed by both Jonathan's positive attitude and his total lack of resentment after spending half his life in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Alex is the kind of leader that I wrote about in "Acting the Courage of our Convictions" (4/26/14.) He could see how he could make a difference, and he did.
Alex went online and started a crowd-sourcing campaign to generate money to help Jonathan get a new start in life. More than 600 people from 14 countries gave a total of $35,000 to help Jonathan start his life over. Because of Alex's leadership, Jonathan is able to afford a place to live and food while he gets back on his feet again.*
Each of us can do something. We just need to listen when something pulls at our heart strings. Alex did, and he changed Jonathan's life. Our hearts always know.
*The source of materials from this abbreviated piece is from ABC Nightly News with Diane Sawyer. http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/headlines/2014/04/america-strong-stranger-raises-35k-for-exonerated-prisoner/
Enter Alex Sutaru, a Wall Street banker, who was impressed by both Jonathan's positive attitude and his total lack of resentment after spending half his life in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Alex is the kind of leader that I wrote about in "Acting the Courage of our Convictions" (4/26/14.) He could see how he could make a difference, and he did.
Alex went online and started a crowd-sourcing campaign to generate money to help Jonathan get a new start in life. More than 600 people from 14 countries gave a total of $35,000 to help Jonathan start his life over. Because of Alex's leadership, Jonathan is able to afford a place to live and food while he gets back on his feet again.*
Each of us can do something. We just need to listen when something pulls at our heart strings. Alex did, and he changed Jonathan's life. Our hearts always know.
*The source of materials from this abbreviated piece is from ABC Nightly News with Diane Sawyer. http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/headlines/2014/04/america-strong-stranger-raises-35k-for-exonerated-prisoner/
Monday, February 3, 2014
Having Heart
Last night I watched "The Gaby Douglas Story," a movie about the gymnast who won both individual and team gold in the London Olympics. She is the only woman to hold that distinction. She trained with famed gymnastics coach Liang Chow for almost two years before he told her he was going to share "the secret to being an Olympic champion."
Before he told her, she indignantly asked, "Why didn't you tell me two years ago?"
"You were not ready to hear it," he said. "The secret isn't in muscle or speed. The secret to being an Olympic champion is heart." Then, he asked, "Do you have the heart of a champion?" (I wasn't taking notes while watching the movie; these quotes are paraphrased, but fairly close.)
This was the last day in my long weekend of writing. This afternoon I sat and read 20 pages. "Not bad," I thought. It actually sunk in for perhaps the first time that I've had a pretty interesting life and that other people may enjoy reading my memoir.
Yet, as I thought about it, I wondered what Chow would tell me about being an author of successful books. Each of my first two books won minor recognition. Leading from the Heart was an alternate selection of Book-of-the-Month Club, and The Alchemy of Fear was chosen by The Executive Club as its monthly selection. (It also won a similar award in France, but since my French is non-existent, I don't remember the exact name.) Each was out in multiple languages. Each has a following which says the books have changed their lives.
My royalties were small, and foreign language rights were negligible. I never came close to making back what I lost in consulting fees when I was working on them. And, they were my financially successful books. Would Chow tell me that I didn't have the heart of a successful author? If so, where do I find that heart because I want it in this book? As I wrote today, I wept. In fact, I've had to retrieve a box of tissues more than once on this writing project. Does that mean that this book will have more heart?
Just months before Douglas would distinguish herself with the double-gold accomplishment in London, she was ready to give up. Chow's words reminded her that she had the heart of a champion, and remembering that drove her through those last difficult months. In running, it is called "hitting the wall," when a marathon runner runs out of steam with only one or two miles of the 26 remaining. Pure will and heart are what keeps her on the course.
In the voice-over at the beginning of the movie, Douglas says that she tried giving up but she found that was harder than winning. In the last few years when I've pretty much walked away from writing, I've been miserable. I know what Douglas means when she says that giving up is harder than winning. Fighting one's very nature must be harder than following it.
When I started this blog, I had two purposes: 1) to provide an outlet for my writing that might serve others and 2) to share the spiritual journey with other pilgrims. I said, "I don't claim to have the answers, but often the questions are informative...." Some days I feel like I have more of the answers than others. Today is not one of them. Today I am squeezed between knowing that I must write and not-knowing how to have the "heart of a champion" writer. Today I am sharing the questions. Not only "How can I not do what I must?" but also "How can I do it well enough to really make a difference?"
As a youngster Gaby Douglas precociously proclaimed that she wanted to go to the Olympics: she went, and she won. I want my words to make the world a better place...and I hope they will. I may not know the answers, but I do know that intention is a powerful thing.
Before he told her, she indignantly asked, "Why didn't you tell me two years ago?"
"You were not ready to hear it," he said. "The secret isn't in muscle or speed. The secret to being an Olympic champion is heart." Then, he asked, "Do you have the heart of a champion?" (I wasn't taking notes while watching the movie; these quotes are paraphrased, but fairly close.)
This was the last day in my long weekend of writing. This afternoon I sat and read 20 pages. "Not bad," I thought. It actually sunk in for perhaps the first time that I've had a pretty interesting life and that other people may enjoy reading my memoir.
Yet, as I thought about it, I wondered what Chow would tell me about being an author of successful books. Each of my first two books won minor recognition. Leading from the Heart was an alternate selection of Book-of-the-Month Club, and The Alchemy of Fear was chosen by The Executive Club as its monthly selection. (It also won a similar award in France, but since my French is non-existent, I don't remember the exact name.) Each was out in multiple languages. Each has a following which says the books have changed their lives.
My royalties were small, and foreign language rights were negligible. I never came close to making back what I lost in consulting fees when I was working on them. And, they were my financially successful books. Would Chow tell me that I didn't have the heart of a successful author? If so, where do I find that heart because I want it in this book? As I wrote today, I wept. In fact, I've had to retrieve a box of tissues more than once on this writing project. Does that mean that this book will have more heart?
Just months before Douglas would distinguish herself with the double-gold accomplishment in London, she was ready to give up. Chow's words reminded her that she had the heart of a champion, and remembering that drove her through those last difficult months. In running, it is called "hitting the wall," when a marathon runner runs out of steam with only one or two miles of the 26 remaining. Pure will and heart are what keeps her on the course.
In the voice-over at the beginning of the movie, Douglas says that she tried giving up but she found that was harder than winning. In the last few years when I've pretty much walked away from writing, I've been miserable. I know what Douglas means when she says that giving up is harder than winning. Fighting one's very nature must be harder than following it.
When I started this blog, I had two purposes: 1) to provide an outlet for my writing that might serve others and 2) to share the spiritual journey with other pilgrims. I said, "I don't claim to have the answers, but often the questions are informative...." Some days I feel like I have more of the answers than others. Today is not one of them. Today I am squeezed between knowing that I must write and not-knowing how to have the "heart of a champion" writer. Today I am sharing the questions. Not only "How can I not do what I must?" but also "How can I do it well enough to really make a difference?"
As a youngster Gaby Douglas precociously proclaimed that she wanted to go to the Olympics: she went, and she won. I want my words to make the world a better place...and I hope they will. I may not know the answers, but I do know that intention is a powerful thing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)