Most of us can cite change points in our lives. For me, it was the discovery of “I” and “Me.”

It dawned on me that there were two selves – I and Me.

Me only thought there was me. Me is the outer self, the one we talk to ourselves about inside our head. Me is a collection of life’s experiences. To quote Czech writer Milan Kundera, “What is the self? It is the sum of everything we remember.”

The outer self is our self image. “Yep, that’s me.”

What I found out about being me is that there is built in exclusion of other ways, especially ones different from mine. Me takes on the mantle of “the way me thinks is the way it is.”

“I” doesn’t think. “I” observes.

When I discovered there was a thinker and an observer, I began to think less and observe more. One of the things I began to observe was my thinking. It was eye-opening.

I found out there is a part of me that thinks that the only thing there is is thoughts. When I found out I could observe the things I thought were the only things, I found my inner self – the observer.

The observer frees you from your thoughts. You begin to notice these tightly compacted thoughts that pretend they are the only way it is and, like magic, these thoughts begin to unravel. Old beliefs begin to fall apart because there isn’t the glue of thinking to hold them together.

Me takes on a life of its own, never noticing that I is there, until it does.

The way to “I” is to observe “Me.” It’s the observation of this ongoing train of thought that brings you to the whistle stop known as “I.” It’s there that you can hop off and observe rather than pretend to know how things are.

You’ll know you are ready to break out of the cocoon of “Me,” when you observe that there are other ways it can be.

All the best,

John

This would be a great title for a book – “Waiting for Life to Happen.”

It would be a best seller because most of us are afflicted with the waiting disease and are hell-bent on finding a cure.

We don’t wait with the patience of Job but rather with the frenetic action of the “Energizer” bunny.

Waiting is our video game of choice and we play it all the time.

Here’s one of life’s secrets: Waiting produces more waiting.

To be more precise with the book title, we are waiting for a preferred “slice” of life to happen, rather than life itself. Life is happening all the time in every moment, so no waiting is necessary.

The waiting we do is for something that has really low odds of happening – winning the lottery, being discovered, and a whole host of other pipe dreams that suggest we don’t have to work at them.

“I’ll do this until what I really want to do comes along” is the silent agenda of the waiter. Here’s a clue: It’s not coming along.

The waiter has more starts and stops than a New York City bus. They build up a head of steam for a city block and then come to a screeching halt. They repeat this pattern for a lifetime. They haven’t learned the lesson of sustained effort. Anyone who is living life now and not waiting for it to happen is progressively working at making something happen.

The missing piece of most plans is “doing.” Living life is doing because life is always moving forward and if you are not moving with it, you are left behind, waiting.

Yes, there is plenty of reflecting that goes on with someone living life. That quiet time is the “pause that refreshes” to quote an old soft drink commercial.

When you constantly wait, your body gets used to inertia and it’s harder to feel the life that’s always coursing through your veins. Look at someone living life and you can see a palpable energy moving them along.

Waiting for life to happen is suicide on the installment plan.

The good news is this: There is a cure for waiting – it’s doing. If you’re waiting for doing to come along, you’ve missed the point. Doing, like life, is always present. Doing is not on a waiting list. Doing is happening now. You just have to tap into its energy and let it propel you along.

Waiting for life to happen? It’ll be a long wait. Doing is the catalyst that makes life happen. If it’s not happening for you, may I strongly suggest “Do.”

All the best,

John

It occurred to me over the weekend that the words “fix” and “resolve” are often used interchangeably but often mean different things.

“Let’s fix the bike tire” is pretty clear cut. “Let’s resolve this ongoing issue” takes us in a different direction.

“Fix” implies getting it back to the way it was working; resolve may have you come to the conclusion that it may never work that way again.

“Fixes” are often short fixes, especially in relationships. You fix it until the next time it happens. Too many short fixes suggest that you need to resolve that which needs constant fixing.

To me, resolving is a longer term fix.

Resolving means moving past the short fixes to something that has more lasting power. Resolving may also mean it’s time to move on.

“Kiss and make up” is a staple in our culture, whether in personal or professional situations. Where it becomes counterproductive is when the bulk of your time is spent making up rather than making plans for what will work long-term.

We all get into fixes and the short-term solution often works fine. “My water heater just broke. Can you lend me the money to fix it? My tax refund is due next week and I can pay you back then.”

Contrast that with the person who asks you to borrow $20 every Monday and says they will pay you back on Friday on pay day. You no longer have access to your money for four days every week. That’s an ongoing situation that needs to be resolved, not fixed.

Final thought: If you’re constantly in a fix, you would be best served to find some resolve, otherwise you’ll be forever pedaling on flat tires.

All the best,

John

I wonder how many people will come upon their twilight years and sing, “I did it their way.”

Frank Sinatra would turn over in his grave.

There is only so much “go along to get along” a person can take before it takes its toll.

There has to be something in it for you otherwise you’ll end up in a perpetual stew.

I’m not addressing “my way or the highway” here; just strongly suggesting that you lay claim to the notion that you’re important enough not to be impotent.

Helplessness is only conditioning; you weren’t born with it. At some point you will have to make a choice to recondition yourself or resign yourself to do it their way.

This isn’t about rebellion; it’s more about waking up from sleepwalking down someone else’s path.

Begin to get curious about your path. Just opening your eyes to the idea that there is another way takes you a step closer to your way.

Be willing to entertain the concept that there is a way for you. You don’t have to “figure it out” – just be open to the idea that there is a way for you. It’s this willingness to be open that wakes you up to open doors.

My claim is that discoveries are really “uncoveries.” That means they’ve been there all along, just covered over. Your way has been there all along too; you just have to wipe the sleep out of your eyes to see it.

Be willing to be open to your way. Before long, this mindset will have you singing a different tune.

All the best,

John

This is just a little slice of life that happened last night that tickled me.

I was involved in a rare event – a conversation with my grandson. He attended a wedding over the weekend and I was asking him about his experience. He went on to tell me about the people he met and some of the local flavor he encountered out on Cape Cod.

I then asked about an incident I had heard about that happened and was looking for a bit more detail. I said, ” I heard that _____________ gave you some shit (verbal abuse).” He looked at me quizzically and said, “Maybe you’re referring to . . .” (an innocuous comment that this person made).

He then said, “If it’s anything other than that, I don’t remember.” He then went on to hit me with the quote worth re-quoting: “If I don’t care what you are saying, I’m not going to remember it.”

It caused me to come up with a new version of the old schoolyard ditty that we’ve all learned.

“Sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me, especially if I don’t care enough to remember them.”

Thanks, grandson. You can teach an old dog new tricks.

All the best,

John

If there’s a more used word than “because” to defend our limitations, I’m unaware of it.

We divert attention away from a solution when we defend our or anyone else’s actions with “because.”

How often have you heard or said some form of this sentence: “I’m/He’s/She’s this way because . . .”?

“Because” will send you off into the land of illusion. If you put a period after the word “way,” you are now looking at the unfiltered reality and are better positioned to seek a solution.

Here’s my favorite: “He drinks too much because he’s an alcoholic.” What’s the real issue here? The answer is: “He drinks too much.” Notice the period after the sentence.

“My son is acting out because I’m having problems with my ex.” Begin to notice the trip to Never-Never Land that follows “because.”

“Because” keeps you focused on the reasons things are the way they are. You’ll never run out of reasons. If you don’t believe that, just ask a high school freshman why they’re failing Algebra. “Because all the kids are failing.” “Because the teacher doesn’t like me.” “Because our textbook is outdated.” The list could go on forever if you let it.

“Because” will not lead you to a solution. Reminds me of a story I may have told before . . . Back in my radio daze I had a DJ who worked for me who was not paying attention one day while on the air. There were a couple of occasions of “dead air.” That means the song he was playing was over and he didn’t notice the on-air silence because he was talking on the phone. Dead air has happened to every broadcaster in their career. It’s usually the rare exception. On this day, it happened twice in 10 minutes.

After his show was over, I invited him in for a chat. I said, “You had dead air twice in 10 minutes on your show today.” What he said next astounded and amused me at the same time. He told me that his doctor diagnosed him with ADD and that’s the reason he was having a problem concentrating.

I said, “Let me ask you a question off the topic. How are things going with your new girlfriend?” He said that everything was fine and, in fact, they had moved in together. I then asked, “This is none of my business but do you have any concentration issues when making love with her?” He laughed and said that everything was fine in that department.

I then told him that ADD wasn’t selective and he needed to pay more attention to his show. The instances of dead air immediately ceased.

Beware of the breadcrumb trail of “because.” It will lead you away from the issue that needs addressing and into the abyss of excuse.

All the best,

John

Here was The Grasshopper’s holiday weekend message: “The only thing we know for sure about the future is that it’s not here now.”

It sounds like it could be a pronouncement from “Captain Obvious” until we dig a bit deeper.

We spend lots of time contemplating a time that doesn’t yet exist and spend too little time in a time that does – Now.

Our future is quite dependent on what happens now. We can have more effect on our future by paying attention to what we’re doing now. Wishing away what’s here now will only insure its future.

The real message is this: You can wish for the future but you can’t count on those wishes if you don’t take any measurable action now.

“I wish my _________ would ___________” will have a greater chance of happening if you climb out of the pseudo safe haven of the wishing well into the light of day. The view here is panoramic and presents more choices to act on not found in the dark hole of wishing.

We hear lots of advice about “planning for the future.” It would be more solid counsel if we changed one word – “doing for the future.”

There’s no harm in daydreaming unless it’s your lifestyle. It’s quite fun to craft a magical future from time to time. It gives our imagination a good workout. But things will not work out if that’s all you do.

I’ll end this post with some sage advice from author, Wayne Dyer: “Go for it now. The future is promised to no one.”

All the best,

John

It’s my experience that many people have no clue when they’ve “lost the room.” That means they continue talking but don’t notice that no one is listening.

Successful comedians and successful teachers have developed their sensory acuity to the point that they immediately can tell when they’ve gone off course, and that sensation leads them back to a workable path.

Some people will throw up on you if you let them. That means that their only purpose is to say what they want without any idea that their spewings are alienating you. You’ve got to interrupt them or you’re in for a long, smelly encounter.

Like most flaws, it’s easier to spot them in others than it is to notice them in yourself. The exercise is to start noticing how you’re being received.

We can all imagine the guy at work in the break room telling an off-color joke to someone, not noticing that there are others within earshot who may be offended. But can we begin to notice that lack of sensory acuity in ourselves?

The key is to pay attention while you are speaking. Start noticing others’ reactions in real time. Also, pay attention when someone is speaking to you rather than going inside your head and planning what you are going to say next. That practice is at the top of the list of communication killers.

There is a very successful self-help author who is the worst “professional” public speaker I have ever encountered. He is intent on getting out his message but isn’t getting the message that half the room has disengaged. That’s lack of sensory acuity. Good thing he writes well.

His attention was completely on himself. It never came out to see what others were up to. I’m genuinely surprised he didn’t trip on his way to the podium.

Just giving a bit more attention on how you’re being received will give your message a greater chance of getting through and not have people mentally check out on you.

All the best,

John

What’s your reward for doing what you do? That was a question The Grasshopper posed this morning.

We do lots of “necessary” stuff in a day, a week, a year, a lifetime, but do we ever stop and consider the reward?

Is there one?

My guess is that if there wasn’t one, we would eventually find a way to stop doing what we do.

I invite heresy when I assert that Mother Teresa wasn’t entirely altruistic when doing her missionary work for a lifetime. There was a reward in there or she would have stopped doing it long before death stopped her.

Even selfless people get a reward.

Notice it’s easy to complain about what you do, but if you keep on doing it, there’s a likely reward that you’re overlooking.

With the advent of social media, it’s easy to read parents’ complaints about doing what they “have” to do. Rarely do I read about the reward they get for doing it.

We won’t stop complaining anytime soon, but it just may be worthwhile to balance our complaints by considering the rewards.

What’s your reward? If there isn’t one, my guess is, sooner or later, you’ll pursue something else that provides one.

My suggestion is to become a bounty hunter and find out what your reward is. It will tamper down the complaints long enough to have a rewarding experience.

All the best,

John

The Grasshopper was singing in the shower this morning and belted out this tune: “I Don’t Care is a Lonely Place to be.”

It dawned on me that the more things you don’t care about, the more isolated you become. The more isolated you become, the less you care about. It’s a downward spiral.

There is a priority to things we care about. For example, #3 on your list may be #497 on mine and vice-versa. But at least we have a list.

People who live the “I don’t care” mantra don’t have a visible list.

There is a new trend going on in Facebook-ville. You are “called out” by a friend or family member to post three things a day you are grateful for and do it for 5 days.

It’s really a focusing exercise to find out what you care about.

The practice forces you to come up with a list, and a byproduct of the exercise is reconnecting you to what you care about.

If you’re lonely, call yourself out and make a list of what you care about. It’s a catalyst that leads you to connection, leaving “list-less” isolation behind.

All the best,

John