Alan Fox

As I began driving to work this morning I had a random thought.  “This is going to be a bad day.”

Whoops!

How did that saboteur enter my brain?  When I walk into my office would I ever say to a coworker, “Good morning!  This is going to be a bad day”?

Of course not.  I seem to only send that kind of negative message to myself.

It has been said, “As the twig is bent, so grows the tree.”  Should I allow the twig of my thoughts to grow into the tree of a really bad day?

I assume that you are thinking, “No.  Of course not.  Have positive thoughts, Alan, so that you‘ll have a great day.”

And you’re right.  I agree with you.  So as I drove to work I thought of everything I was looking forward to throughout my day.  Frankly, at the top of my list was lunch.

At my desk, partly to avoid actual work, I thought about another statement that almost all of us use often, and this phrase is one of my pet peeves.

“You made me feel . . .”

Really?  You “made me” feel good?  You “made me” feel awful?  You “made me” feel like a million dollars?

If I have to, I’ll choose number three.  But my point is that whatever you do is entirely within your control, not mine.  But how I respond is entirely within my control, not yours.  So you cannot “make me” feel anything.  “Invite?” Perhaps.  “Make?”  No.

From time to time in my business career I’ve been involved in litigation, which is always a waste of time and money.  In many cases the goal of the other side is to “make me” feel miserable.  They haven’t succeeded yet.  I remind myself that I enjoy the thrill of being deposed (as a witness, not as a king).  I believe that a trial is terrific theater, with a real audience and real results.  I appreciate the skill of the better attorney (who I always hope is mine).

When my alma mater USC plays football against Notre Dame, occasionally Notre Dame gets lucky and wins, just to upset me (as they did last Saturday).  But I always remember that I choose to be upset.  I also choose to be delighted when USC wins.  I also remind myself that no one is forcing me to either watch the game or care about the outcome.

I recently received the first really negative comment on this blog.  The comment was anonymous, and began:

“I read your blog often and find it to be awful.”  The four following paragraphs elaborated on that theme.

I admit that my immediate reaction was ninety-five percent rage, five percent shame.  But my second reaction was to wonder, if my blog was so awful to Mr. or Ms. Anonymous, why did he or she keep reading it week after week?  Hmmm.  No doubt an internet troll trying to “make me” feel anger or shame.  Instead, I felt pleased.

Well, Troll, if you are still reading my blog, I’d be happy to hear from you again.  I hope you don’t “feel” frustrated because you didn’t “make me” feel angry or ashamed.  After reading your negative comment, I felt delighted that you and several thousand others are regular readers.

Of course, now that I’ve shared my secret with you, you might not bother to write to me again.  I’m okay with that too.

Today has started well.  It’s going to be a great day.

Alan

Suppose you knew that you had one year to live.

I’m not going to ask what you would do with your remaining year.  I’m going to share with you what I wouldn’t do with mine.

I wouldn’t buy a new car.  I love my red Tesla. It accelerates so quickly that I don’t ever push the pedal to the floor because I’m afraid of what might happen.

I wouldn’t start any new relationships.  I’d spend my time deepening the friendships I already have.

I wouldn’t be silent about political issues.  Expressing my strongly held beliefs might not change a thing, but I’d rather go out as a rabble rouser.

I wouldn’t spend time with people who bore me (and I wouldn’t be indirect about it).

I wouldn’t spend so much time at the office.

I wouldn’t pay attention to the news.  I would read books instead.  I would watch shows on TV that entertained me, rather than news shows on CNN, Fox News, or MSNBC that scare me.

I wouldn’t set an alarm to wake up in the morning, ever.  I would wake up whenever I wanted to.

I wouldn’t be afraid of rejection.  What the heck, it would only last for less than a year.

I wouldn’t care so much about the size of my bank account (not that I would be irresponsible).  Well, maybe a little.

I wouldn’t seek approval.  I would let it all hang out.

I wouldn’t buy any new clothes.  The ones I have are just fine.

I wouldn’t be so “polite” in my relationships.  I would get to the essence of what matters to me.

I wouldn’t tell anyone except my wife when I was going to die until the very last month.  It would be interesting for me to see how people not in on “the secret” treated the new me.

I wouldn’t start any new projects unless I knew I was going to be able to finish them.  My computer already stores too many half-written ideas.

I wouldn’t beg or bargain for more time. I wouldn’t bemoan my single year.  My time here always was limited.  The only difference – now I would know the expiration date.

I wouldn’t spend much time on the superficial.  I would spend more time on introspection.

I wouldn’t be as much of a couch potato.

I wouldn’t hang out with adults so much.  Maybe I’d help out by teaching fourth grade.

I wouldn’t read any weather forecasts.  I would just enjoy whatever comes.

I wouldn’t stop writing my blog.  The weekly deadline imposes a structure in my life that I like.

I’m sure, if you thought about it, you also have a valuable “wouldn’t” list.  Of course, the final “wouldn’t” for each of us should be:

I wouldn’t wait for tomorrow to fully be the person I would like to be today.

Alan

“I had rather be right than president,” the well-known United States Senator Henry Clay of Kentucky declared in the U. S. Senate on February 7, 1839.

I don’t know if the voters of that time agreed that Senator Clay was right.  I do know that he was never president.

Being right, of course, is subjective.  I enjoyed the recent movie Wonder Woman, which scored highly on the review web site Rotten Tomatoes.  Is it a wonderful movie?  Many people would say “Yes”, and some would say, “No.”  Who is “right?”  Who is to make that determination?

When I look at reviews on Amazon for my three People Tools books there are favorable reviews, including many five star ratings.  But there are also a few ones and twos.  Who is “right”?

My point is that being “right” is subjective.  Being president is objective.

When you disagree with your spouse, parent, children, friend, or boss, which of you is “right?”  I don’t know how to determine that.  If I agree with you then I might be careless and say, “You are right,” when I really should say, “I agree with you.”

In a relationship this is an extremely important distinction. It can make the difference between being married or not, having a job or not, maintaining a good relationship or not. Because if you insist all of the time that you are “right,” what you really are is obnoxious.

I think you’ll agree with me that no human being who ever lived was “right” all of the time.  No one is infallible, including you.

A business associate and I recently returned from a short business trip.  He thought my car was parked on the top level of the LAX parking structure.  I was certain I had parked my car one level below so it would be out of the sun.  We disagreed.  We both searched the lower level several times.  No car.  Had it been stolen?  While I sat on my suitcase, reflecting, my friend climbed the stairs to the top level.

“I found the car,” he texted.

He had, indeed, found my car.  But I must admit that as I sit in my office today typing this, I still believe I parked my car on the lower level.  It must have been moved by some mysterious force that wanted to expose my car to the sun, or just to make me “wrong.”

I know.  You think I’m irrational about this.  And I am.  But I hope you will also recognize that sometimes – not often, but sometimes – you are irrational too.  And there’s the rub.

Would you rather be “right” than married?  Would you rather be “right” than have a job?  Would you rather be “right” than keep a friend?

To maintain a good relationship it helps to say “You’re right” often and “Sorry, I was wrong,” even more often.  Your relationships will thrive.

If my memory is correct, many years ago the best-selling novel Love Story began with the line, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

I disagree.  Love means that you have to say you’re sorry often.

Sorry, Henry.  I too disagree with you.  I don’t need to always be right.

Am I right?

Alan