I don’t know about you, but I grew up thinking that an apology was a weakness.  After all, it is acknowledging a … well … a … MISTAKE.  Ouch.  Who wants to make a mistake in the first place?  And if you do, do you really want to publicly announce that you screwed up?

And what about a situation in which you truly don’t believe that you’ve done anything wrong?  Often in life, you can have a disagreement with someone that results in hurt feelings – even if from your own perspective you are totally in the right.

An example I’ve shared before comes to mind. Almost forty years ago I studied psychology with a psychiatrist, Paul Ware, in a week-long retreat.  At week’s end Paul spent an hour with me discussing any personal questions I might have.

With a few minutes to go, Paul asked, “Anything else?”

“We only have four minutes left,” I said.

“You can accomplish a lot in four minutes,” he replied.

“Okay.  I have a fifteen-year-old son who hasn’t spoken to me in nine months.  What do you suggest?”

“Apologize.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Do you want to have a relationship with your son or not?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then go home and apologize.”

With difficulty, I followed Paul’s advice.  As a result, the fog between my son and me lifted and we have enjoyed an excellent relationship ever since.

Paul’s advice could be some of the best I’ve ever received. If you value a relationship with someone, being right and winning an argument should never take priority over sustaining your relationship. A sincere apology, given without any excuses, diffuses the situation and can reestablish the peace. Ultimately – isn’t your commitment to making things right with someone you care about more important than being right?

During the past forty years I have followed Paul’s advice in other parts of my life.  When a mistake is made in my business, I often acknowledge my own culpability, rather than immediately blaming someone else.  And to quote a song from Mary Poppins, “Just a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down.”

Perhaps you remember the hilarious scene in the movie “A Fish Called Wanda,” in which Kevin Kline tries to apologize with, “I’m s…s…s…sor…ry.”  Good try, Kevin.

Apologizing is seldom easy.  But it is always welcome, especially when you think you haven’t done anything wrong.

Alan

It seldom rains in August in Los Angeles.  But thanks to hurricane Hilary, last Saturday we were pummeled by an out-of-season storm, and for the first time in 84 years it rained in August.  And not just a trace of rain, but a downpour of more than two inches.

When I was a boy, I loved to play in the rain.  My enjoyment wasn’t even hampered by my mother’s insistence that I wear a rubber raincoat and galoshes.

But my love of rain diminished substantially in my mid-30’s.  At that time I managed more than 50 apartment buildings in the San Fernando Valley.  Each of them had a roof that might leak, and I lacked the cash to fix them.  So in those days, when I laid in bed Saturday morning, listening to the rain, I would play a “game” with myself, estimating the amount the rain would cost.  Was this a $30,000 rain, or a $40,000 rain?  As I’m sure you can understand, when rain became costly I enjoyed it a lot less.

But isn’t it always the case that your point of view depends upon the point of your view.  My business concerns trumped my previous pleasure of enjoying a good rain in Los Angeles.  It’s also true that, over time, my values and preferences have changed.  Today, I look forward to a nine pm bedtime.  When I was in my teens and twenties, the evening was yet young.

And that leads me to my favorite line from Shakespeare’s Hamlet (one I have often quoted). “There is nothing good or bad but thinking makes it so.”  Is rain in August good or bad?  Well, I guess that depends on whether you are frolicking in it or trying to drive through a flooded intersection.

My oldest granddaughter is getting married in late October at an outdoor wedding.  Obviously, a rainstorm that day would not be good, even though I assume there’s an indoor back up plan.

But enough philosophy.  It’s now Monday morning, and I have work to do.

And a lunch date.

At an indoor restaurant.

Alan

Until last week I hadn’t thought much about how our lives are structured, even though most of us clearly follow a set routine.

We wake at a certain hour, eat our meals at about the same time each day, and our free time is scheduled around our obligations.  Ask anyone who keeps a calendar of their appointments.  But for the past three days I’ve had no appointments.  For me that’s a blessing.

Why do our lives have to be so scheduled?  I have sometimes asked myself why do I have to eat breakfast before nine am when I’m on vacation?  After all, I’m on VACATION.  I should be able to eat breakfast any time I like.  The answer, of course, is that the tour company is picking up our entire group at nine am, and if they wait for stragglers all of us could be sitting around until noon.

This sentiment was captured years ago when Mel Brooks made a film called, “If It’s Tuesday It Must Be Belgium.” The film was likely inspired by a cartoon in the New Yorker with that same caption that caricatured American tourists reading a tour schedule, oblivious to the surrounding charm of a quaint European village. Point taken.  Maybe we all need more unstructured time to truly enjoy our lives.

But, for me, it’s Monday and time to write my blog.  Though I would vastly prefer to have it entirely written by Sunday evening, I seem to do my best work only to meet deadlines – not to exceed them.  (Perhaps this is a carryover from my school days when I always thought, “If there’s no test, why study?”)

I will admit that we do have to create structure in order to organize a group or to accomplish certain goals.  For example, try driving a car where there is no structure established by roads, signs, and painted lines.  You won’t drive as far.

But even so, in considering my current appointment-free schedule, I’m appreciating that in many cases structure is unnecessary.  Sometimes it’s easier just to enjoy life without planning every minute.  Especially for kids.

So, I suggest that we consciously employ structure as a tool, but take a vacation from it as frequently as we reasonably can.

It’s a lot more relaxing.

Whew!  I’m finished.

Alan