Who Wins?

There is no winning formula.

Regardless of what anyone tells you, success is not one-size-fits-all.

What propels one elite athlete to excellence may not propel you to the same level of performance.

Someone else’s business plan cannot be grafted onto your business idea with the same result.

Your brother’s job search is not your job search.

You are you.

They are them.

So, beware people who want to sell you their “secrets”.  Who offer you a success template.  Who say being successful is fast, easy, and assured – but only if you follow their plan.

You are you.

They are them.

It’s so natural, so human, so very optimistic to wish and hope and pray for an easy solution.  And, we think/hope/pray -  if it worked for someone else, then maybe it will work for me.

We think: Maybe success will finally be easy.

Because we’d all really like easy.

Most of us would like what that old song promised: “That ain’t workin’, that’s the way you do it, Money for nothin’ and your chicks for free…”

But life doesn’t work like that.

The best winning solution is the one relevant to who you are and where you want to go. The best solution is the one you can visualize for yourself, and create to your own specifications.

The best solution really works for you.

So why not ask the person who’s selling you their wholesale, turn-key, nearly guaranteed thingy,  “Don’t I deserve a customized solution for this price?”

Because you do. If you want to be truly successful.

Unfortunately, the seller’s personal success plan is based on wholesaling solutions to you and hundreds or thousands of hopeful types just like you.  Customized takes too much time, is too difficult, is too specific, is too long-term. Customized requires a relationship, for heaven’s sake.  It’s hard to be a jet-setting, Internet famous, location independent superstar when you have to bother with relationships with clients!

The real problem for “secret” sellers is this:  Customized can’t be re-sold in the same way turn-key solutions can be sold – over and over and over again.

[Which, by the way, is the "secret of success" many folks will teach you. Just saved you $15,000.]

There’s not the same kind of money in telling you that success may take a little thoughtful customization. Telling you success may take some time.  It may take some failure, and learning. May need revision.  May be found in something completely different than you expected. May not come at all.  Hard to sell that in a weekend workshop, or a high-priced mastermind group, huh?

When you were a kid, did you ever read Aesop’s fables?  I did. And there’s one I keep coming back to – The Tortoise and The Hare.

Let me ask you, in that old fable, who ultimately won the big race? Was it the Hare, who ran so fast that he could rest during the race, who impressed the girl bunnies, who had so many tricks up his sleeve, who was so flashy?  Or, was it the Tortoise, who kept on plugging away, kept going step by step, kept to an approach consistent with his turtle nature?

Of course, it was the Tortoise. But it’s easier to sell the flash of the Hare than the steady plodding of the Tortoise.

That is, if you’re selling flash and tricks.

Friends, there’s just one secret to success: be yourself.

Consistently.  Patiently.  Kindly.  Generously. True to your own nature.

That’s it. That’s all. That’s the starting point.

You deserve a customized solution. Demand it.  And you’ll win your race.

 

4-Step Holiday Survival Guide







I wonder if you’re heading into the coming “magical” Christmas week with slightly more than a teensy bit of anxiety?  So much to do, so little time.  A lot of moving parts, and moving people.  Gifts to get, food to prepare, people to be polite to (it’s that last part that’s the real challenge, huh?).

As Ricky Ricardo might say, “Ai, yi, yi, yi, yi”.

If you’re beginning to feel like all you have to do is endure the next week, take a deep breath.  This 4-Step Holiday Survival Guide will turn things around for you.

Oh, it’s possible.  Yes, I know your track record.  I heard about the year with drunk Uncle Ralph, well… ralphing.  I recall the Christmas of Misplaced Nuts and Bolts.  And, of course, the never to be forgotten Year of the Stomach Flu.

Four things.  That’s all you have to remember to not only get through this week, but to really enjoy it.

1. Have no expectations. This doesn’t have to be a Christmas to remember (great song, but sorry, Amy Grant).  The more you push to make it “magical” the less likely it is going to be magical.  You might have an expectation that the True Christmas Experience means handsome mother and father in matching Christmas sweaters sipping a hot toddy before the fire while their well-behaved children play quietly and reverently with their well-appreciated new toys.  Honey, unless you live in Stepford, I don’t think that’s going to happen. Everyone has wild cards in their families. A puppy. Or toddlers. Or teens. Or Uncle Ralph. I’m just sayin’.

If you’re single, or newly divorced, or newly partnered, or newly widowed, holding this unattainable expectation of the fabled True Christmas Experience in your heart and mind will only bring you suffering.  Drop it. Love what you’ve got. Oh, of course, recognize the learning in the yearning and work toward getting some of that – connection, belonging, love, perhaps – into your life another way.  Maybe by volunteering at the food bank or mentoring a struggling reader.  Remember: You can create what you want.

2. Be present. I mean:  when you’re with people, look them in the eye.  Participate in conversations.  Help with the dishes. When you’re checking your office email, or mentally checking off your to-do list, you’re not really “here”. You’re “there”.  When you find yourself with alone time during the holidays, be equally present. With yourself.  Feel how you feel.  Pay attention to the book you’re reading.  Really taste your food.  If you’re present to yourself, you’ll be a fuller person, and, voila!, much happier.

3. Find the fun. Let’s just say it out loud – the holidays are hilarious. You are making the stuff of family legends, folks. To tell you the truth, memories of the unintended humor inherent in Christmas gatherings can keep me going through the dark, cold days of February, like when Andrew ate potpourri, thinking it was a snack (priceless).  Or, like the time my friend Karen and her family woke to the sound of “Crash (tinkle, tinkle, tinkle)” to find the Christmas tree had toppled, the ornaments had all broken and sappy tree water had run all over the gifts (OK, they laugh about it now). Oh, and remember that spontaneity can be an instant fun creator.  Have a snowball fight.  Or a margarita party.  Dance.  Do the Wii with great-grandma (I bet the old girl could nail Beatles Rock Band).

4. Give generously, not reciprocally. Yes, this is the lesson Scrooge finally learned, and we all know it because we saw the Bill Murray movie. But times are still tough for a lot of people, and what matters most is that you be the kind of person you want to be this Christmas. Want to send something to your nieces and nephews? Go ahead, do it – even if their family can’t reciprocate.  And you don’t have to give Things – you can give time.  Trust me on this one, even teenagers appreciate it when someone makes time to listen to them.  Give because you want to be a giving person.

Oh, and don’t forget to give something to yourself this year.  I mean it – find a little something that will buoy your spirits, and give you joy.  Wrap it up and put it under the tree.  Or give it to yourself in a quiet moment of reflection.  It can be as low-cost as the gift of a nap.  Or as expensive as a new car.  Choose what feels right. Because taking care of yourself is just as important as taking care of others.

When you hold Christmas in a clenched fist of direction and control, or focus on the keeping and settling of scores, it’s a lose-lose-lose situation you’re setting up. And you’ll have a lousy week.  So, lighten up.  Relax.  Enjoy.  And sing along as great-grandma belts out “I Wanna Hold Your Hand.” 

She’s gonna nail it.


A Generous Spirit

This week, I was going to write about Dan Pink’s new book about motivation, Drive.

Then, I also considered writing about Brigid Schulte’s article in The Washington Post, about a busy working mom’s search for leisure time.

I also thought about writing an arch, sassy essay on New Year’s Resolutions.

But I couldn’t write those posts. They seem so inconsequential.

Because I can’t get Haiti out of my mind.

The scope of the loss there is so hard to grasp. The only way I’ve been able to understand it is like this: It’s as if Land Shark Stadium in Miami, filled to the rafters for the Super Bowl, collapsed and suddenly every single person in the stadium – players, refs, fans, vendors, women selling programs, beer guys, security guards – died.

And as if every single car in the parking lot were filled with people who were hurt by falling debris from the stadium, had no gas, no food, no water, and no where to go.

And everyone in Miami suddenly had no power, no police, no firemen, no nothing.

Imagine if we began burying people in a mass grave in the middle of the football field.

That’s what Haiti is like.

And so much else feels insignificant.

Last Friday as I watched the news coverage out of Port-au-Prince,  I found myself feeling much the same way I did on September 11, 2001. I live four miles from the Pentagon, and I knew someone on that plane. I knew people who worked at the Pentagon, and a security guard who saved lives. Firefighters just down the street were among the first responders. I saw the smoke, I smelled the jet fuel, I saw the scorch marks. The loss felt so heavy.

One hundred and twenty five souls died that day at the Pentagon. Almost 3,000 people died in New York, Pennsylvania and DC as a result of the 9-11 attack. Our attention has been grabbed by other recent situations. Nearly 4,500 soldiers have died in Iraq since 2003.  Eight hundred and fifty in Afghanistan.  Six thousand five hundred people died from swine flu in 2009, worldwide.

All of these instances have received understandable media coverage.

But Haiti’s death toll is almost 1000 times that of the Pentagon. More than thirty times the losses of 9-11. Twenty times the soldiers lost in Iraq. Fifteen times that lost to swine flu.

It is so big.

So what can we do? We can, and have, given to charitable organizations who are on the ground in Haiti, delivering basic supplies, medical assistance and coordinating recovery efforts. In just a few days, $12 million has been generated in ten dollar increments for the American Red Cross by text messaging alone.

We are a generous people.

And catastrophes tend to bring us together, and bring out the best in us.

So I have an idea.

What if we could keep that generosity going? Certainly to Haiti as it rebuilds.

But also to Flint, Michigan, as it recovers.

And to Schenectady and Siler City. And to Des Moines and Danville.

And to Main Street and to your very own street.

Amid our personal concerns about our financial health and prospects for the future, what if we made a commitment to keep on being as generous in the future as we are right now?

What if, as a business owner, you hired someone and accepted a slightly smaller profit margin for yourself?

What if, as a homeowner, you hired someone to repair your roof rather than get up on a ladder?

What if, as a corporation, you added just one percent to your workforce?

What if, as a bank, you lent money to people who will use it to create opportunity for others through employment?

What if, as a society, we figuratively kept texting each other $10 each day?

Why, we’d change everything.

Always You

I have a theory. It’s that we are pretty much who we’re going to be at an early age. That’s not to say that life experiences don’t change us, or that we can’t undertake change on our own. Stuff happens, our perspectives shift and we change.

But if you’re born left-handed, you’re probably going to stay left-handed for life.

The Internet is an unparalleled way to reconnect. I got this in my Classmates.com in-box:

“I don’t know if you remember me from elementary [school], but I’ll never forget you. I remember nervously walking into the school for the first time after I moved there at the beginning of the 3rd grade. Mrs. W (who scared me to death!) was showing me where the classroom was located — it was early and hardly any kids had arrived yet. You walked up to me from the other end of the hall and struck up a conversation, and made me feel like I wasn’t an outsider. I don’t know if I ever thanked you, but I always appreciated that. You made my transition to a new school much easier.”

I have to tell you, this email rocked me. Families tell stories of our youth, but they usually involve — in my case — where I made a complete and total fool of myself by saying or doing something incredibly dopey.

To hear a tale of my past, from an outside, objective observer is like watching a documentary of my life. No spin, no role-playing — just a glimpse of who I was in third grade. Priceless.

And know what? I don’t remember the woman who wrote me (I do remember the evil and wicked Mrs. W, our teacher. Still get the shivers mentioning her name). But a year or so after the incident my correspondent described, my family moved two thousand miles away and I haven’t been back to that little town since. So in writing me she had no relationship to mend, heal or promote — she just had an open, grateful heart and a place to share. What a gift to me.

I’ve been spending a lot of time recently working with clients — and myself — on discovering strengths. I ask questions like: What do you do best? What do you really like? How can you play to your strengths? Because when you play to your strengths, whatever you do feels…easy. Not at all like work. Even, dare I say, fun?

Can you imagine what life would be like if you played to the inherent strengths you’ve had your whole life? Since you were in, oh, third grade? How effortless would that be?

So, what parts of your childhood personality remain? Who were you then — and who are you now? Understanding who you were — to others, to yourself — can illuminate and inspire your life today. Turn the light on, and uncover your own, innate, wonderful strengths. Then put those natural strengths to use, and craft a meaningful, purpose-filled… easy life.

Clinging To Money


So, you have two gold coins. They are the only gold coins you have in the whole wide world, so you hold them tightly in each fist. Then one day you actually meet the leprechaun at the end of the rainbow with his pot of gold.

He says to you, “Dip your hands in and you can keep as much gold as you can carry.” If you dip your hands in with your fists clenched, holding tightly to your two gold coins, how much gold can you scoop? Uh, none.

But if you open your hands, allowing those two gold coins to possibly slip out, how much gold can you scoop?

When you open your hands, you can hold so much more. When you close them tightly, there is no room for more than what you’ve already got.

I developed this little story to illustrate the “issues” many people have around money. Most of the time we cling to what we think money does for our status, and what we perceive money can do for us. I can’t tell you how many times a client will say, “I know I’m not happy in my job, but to do what I truly love I’d have to take a cut in pay!” Hmmmn. Perhaps. But doing what you love is, just like the commercial, priceless. And, remember this: do what you love, and the money will follow.

I was recently in a meeting when a man declared that his objective was to make $10,000 a day. Again, I thought, “Hmmmn.” Will $10,000 a day make you measurably happier than, say, $9,000 a day? Would you be even happier at $12,000 a day? Is there an end in sight, or will you always incrementalize your happiness – ‘til you get to the point where you can never make enough to be “happy”?

Can you tell me who’s got their gold coins grasped tightly in their fists?

I have the most wonderful CPA. His name is Stan Friedman, and I’ve worked with him for quite some time. Many years ago, Stan told me that he saw a direct correlation between how much clients give away and their income. When he told me that, I was intrigued and made an effort to look at how I allocated my money. And Stan was absolutely right.  The more I gave away, the more I got. The happier I got, the less I felt I needed. And still, more came to me. It’s nutty!

Don’t get me wrong. It’s better to have a dollar in your pocket than have none. Having been in both situations, I can personally testify to that statement. Being paid what you’re worth is affirming, and having financial integrity is fulfilling.

But, when you give yourself the freedom to be generous, the world opens up to you. Generosity begets abundance. Don’t take my word for it — give it a try.

Clinging tightly to an idea that money = happiness… limits you. It restricts your access to the underpinnings of true happiness, which are, simply, doing what you love and are good at. You can’t help but be rewarded for that, my friends.