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I admit it. Young adults are among my very favorite people. These two young ladies in this picture are among my favorite people. They know it, too. Because I’ve told them. And I continue to tell them. This was the final year of undergraduate studies for one of them (yeah, you guessed it — the one in the cap and gown who graduated on Friday). This was the freshman year for the other one. Both of them attend the church where I serve. Sure, that makes them important to me, but that doesn’t have anything to do with how likable they are to me.

It’s graduation season. And I’m reminded of all the young adults who are somewhere on the journey toward creating the life they want. For some, like these two…that means higher education. For others, it means entering the workplace to figure out what they may want to do. For others, it may mean taking time to travel and venture out into the world to experience different countries and cultures.

Two words loom large for me (and have for the past 20 years or so): Legacy. Significance.

It was the genesis of this podcast. Nothing has changed. If anything, it’s just intensified.

Passing it on has been a preoccupation. I don’t feel any responsibility to tell anybody how to live necessarily. But I do feel confident to help show younger adults the pitfalls they may face. In the last few years, most of the focus has really been helping them navigate their own self-awareness. I find myself steadily offering insights on things they can do…things I wish somebody would have shared with me.

How We Got Here

Wherever you’re at in life. Age-wise. Financially. Relationship-wise. Any other way you’d like to gauge it. Consider where you are right now. And when I ask how you got here I don’t mean in all the little details. Mostly, I mean in the bigger issues. Important factors like influence. Viewpoints. Philosophies. Standards. How did you develop those? Who influenced the development of those?

Me? I got here because of people who had a big impact on me as a little boy. I got here because of some old men in my life. And a few old ladies, too. I got here because of parents. The short answer is, I got here because of the people who influenced me. The things they taught me. The warnings they gave me. The fear they instilled in me. It all mattered.

Something happens when you get old. Define old any way you’d like, but for me…old is when you’ve got more past than future. I know we can’t know our exact lifespan, but we’ve got some expectation. Hopefully, a reasonable expectation. Do I have 10 years, 20 years, 30 years? I don’t know. But I know how many decades are behind me and it’s impossible that I’ll have that many years ahead of me. So there. I’m old. And I’m good with it. 😉

What I’m not good with is neglecting to pass on what I’ve learned. It doesn’t mean I’m telling these young ladies, or anybody else in my life, how to live. Or what to do. It means I’m sharing experiences and insights. They can do with them what they will. Kick them to the curb. Take them in and apply them. Be bored by them. Or be entertained by them. Or all of the above. I respect whatever they choose to do with them. And that’s not hard because they give me the one thing that triggers me – TRUST.

Because our trust is mutual, we listen to each other. Because I’m old, but vividly remember being young – and because I’m completely empathetic to young people and their challenges. I don’t hold them accountable to how life was when I was young. These two young ladies have never lived in a pre-Internet world. Or pre-cell phone world. Their viewpoint is very different and I understand that. They know I understand it.

Nor am I romantic about the past. While I’m grateful to have been born in a time where I could see all the changes that have happened, I don’t suffer “good ‘ol days syndrome.” Honestly, today is the best time ever to be alive. Mostly, because this is the time when we are alive. But also because the digital age offers all of us, young or old, more opportunities than ever before. The possibilities for these two young ladies – and the millions like them – is extraordinary! Exciting. I’m very optimistic for them. Especially for these two because I know them. They’re smart. They’re wise. They’re responsible. They’re driven. They’re high achievers. It’s the stuff of success no matter a person’s age.

Now that I’m old I’m certain of a few things. Among them, the idea that if the older people in my life – when I was younger – would have taken more time to get to know me, and to allow me to get to know them…I would have learned so much more, so much faster! Fortunately, I sat around and listened carefully. I picked up bits of wisdom here and there from older folks. I befriended a few along the way and today I enjoy a solid relationship with a handful of men older than me (by 15 to 25 years). It’s important to me. So I’ve made the investment necessary.

But part of this is generational. I’m a baby boomer. The people of our grandparents and parents generation didn’t roll the way I roll. It was a different time. Each generation is. I grew up hearing about the “generation gap.” And I saw it up close and personal. But I was also a child of the late 60’s and early 70’s. The hippie movement was just before my time really. It all factors into how older and younger people relate, communicate and learn from each other (if they’re able to learn anything at all).

A lot has changed.

When my grandparents were 50, or 60 – boy, were they old. Today, folks are just hitting their prime at 50. By the time people are “old” they’re often at their very best today. They’ve got tons of life experience. Big time responsibility. Mental sharpness and energy, too. A 50-year-old in 1975 had little resemblance to a 50-year-old in 2018.

Meeting Them Where They Are

When you let the game come to you – as far as influencing young adults – it changes things for the better. But for me, it starts with meeting them where they are and communicating with them on their terms. That’s easy for me. On just about all fronts.

That doesn’t mean you’re their peer. Or you’re like them. Give me a break. I was once young. I do not want to be young again. No amount of money would suffice to get me to go back and do it all over again.

And I don’t want to live vicariously through my young adult friends. They have their lives. They have their talents and passions. I want them to be them. Not me.

When my now grown kids were living at home my wife and I told them that while they were under our direction, living at home, we established the rules for our relationship. “There’ll come a time,” I’d tell them, “when you’re going to leave home and establish your own. When that happens, you’re going to be in charge of our relationship. And we’re going to be perfectly good with that.”

For quite a few years now, that’s exactly how it’s been. Our kids are in charge of our relationship with them. That’s how it should be. They can come over any time. Unannounced. We’ll never do that to them, though. That’s now their right. Not ours. These are choices we made because it’s how we view things. You may not agree. And that’s fine.

I only mention this because it transcends into how I choose to relate to young adults. While I foster friendships and do whatever I can to put myself out there to give them opportunities to engage…whether they engage or not is entirely up to them. I’ll only impose if I fear they’re in trouble (spiritually, mostly — but perhaps physically). Some, like these two ladies, easily engage. Others don’t. I don’t judge. I’m just thankful for the ones who decide a relationship is worthwhile.

Perhaps a bigger part of meeting them where they are is the dedication to give value first. “Let me tell you what you ought to do,” are words they won’t hear me say. Not young adults. They deserve a more mature treatment. More consideration by listening and understanding what they’re thinking. And feeling.

Part of giving value first is being vulnerable. I’m willing to open up and share with them. I’m not some flawless old man. I don’t hesitate to share insights on things I learned from my own foolishness. Wisdom has a price. It’s important for them to know that, and see it as closely as possible without it being their foolishness. They’re going to make their own foolish steps. Seems to me there’s value in learning from mine first. So I never lie or pretend. Or hide.

You Get What You Give

When it works as I want – and as I aim it to – it’s always reciprocal. First, I give. Then they reciprocate. And as much as they may feel they’re getting, in their youth they don’t realize I’m benefiting as much (maybe more). I don’t hide it either. I tell them how valuable they are to my life.

The chickens do come home to roost. Always.

You reap what you sow. Always.

I want young people in my life so I put in the work. Too many people want something, including a relationship, but they’re not willing to put in the work. They enjoy getting jealous of those who do. The art of passing it on works just like everything else in life. You won’t reap where you haven’t sown.

Judgment Free Zone

Older folks are challenged by a lack of empathy toward younger people. I get it. It’s impossible for us to not know what we’ve already learned. For some, that erodes empathy. I understand how it happens when there are quite a few decades separating us, but there’s no excuse.

Empathy enables me to remember being young. And knowing what I’d listen to versus what would shut me down from listening. Besides, no matter our age we want to live our own life. I don’t want you living my life for me (not that you can, but you may feel like you can). All the vicarious living we may do through others is absurd. Impossible, too.

Any attempt to pass it on will be ruined the minute you choose to play the role of the expert advice giver. “You should…fill in the blank,” or “you shouldn’t…fill in the blank.” Should all the young people in your life – and I’m speaking of young adults – and you’ll quickly find them leaving. Quickly. Can’t blame them. You’d do the same thing if you were them.

Sadly, there are some older people with things worth passing along but they can’t do it without constant judgment. No sale!

The Priceless Value Of Friendship

Some parents think being friends with their kids is the route to raising successful, high achieving kids while forging the strongest relationship with them. Sadly, their good intentions don’t often pay off because we need what we need when we need it. And if parents try to be friends with their growing children, then that leaves a void nobody else can fill. Your kids can find friends. If you refuse to be their parent, setting standards and enforcing them, then your kids won’t be able to find anybody else who can do that for them.

Passing it on doesn’t look the same at every age. I’ve got a grandson who’ll turn 3 this summer. I nicknamed him Road Rash Roy when he was still one…because he’s fearless and always had a scratch or something on his face. Road rash. By the way, his name isn’t Roy. 😉

Well, Triple R gets into everything. And not just like a normal 2-year-old. He’s extraordinarily resourceful in his quests. Here’s a video my daughter-in-law created showing off his prowess. This was about a year ago, too. So you can imagine how much more accomplished he is today!

This kid clearly needs some high accountability and correction. His parents give him what he needs. They know what I know, his needs will change. And with his changing needs, they’ll change in giving him what he needs. Right now, Roy’s required to meet the standards of his parents. Over time he’s going to decide what his standards of conduct are. As adults in his life, it’s important for us to pass along what we’ve all learned. The foundations for successful living like self-confidence, empathy, respect, politeness, and all those things every child deserves to be taught so they can have a profitable life. We owe Roy our best so he can be his best.

Having raised Roy’s dad – our son – my wife and I know that if we can help him harness his gifts…this kid will be a major force. I happen to think most kids have sufficient gifts to be major forces. He’ll grow up and be his own person. Maybe he’ll resemble his dad in some things and his mom in others. But Roy is like everybody…he’s going to be his own unique self. His growth and advancement will require the adults who surround him (family) to adapt, too. We won’t always treat him like a 2-year-old.

This summer Roy’s dad will turn 38. The kid I once spent hours talking to without giving him a choice now seems to find it enjoyable engaging me in conversation. Today, we’re really close friends. Our relationship has changed through the years as we’ve both adapted to where he’s at in life. He found out I meant what I told him, “Right now, our relationship is on my terms, but when you leave home our relationship will be completely on your terms.” We’re now at a stage where life has been on his terms – as far as a relationship with me and his mom – longer than not. And I don’t think any of us could be happier.

Passing it on successfully means adapting. Serious adapting. As people grow up we have to adjust by honoring the fact that they’re growing up. Growing up means shouldering more responsibilities…and doing it well. It doesn’t just mean growing another year older. It’s earning trust. Both people earning more and more trust in each other.

Friendship happens when we do it well with our own children. It also happens with young adults who aren’t our children when we exhibit trust and work to earn it. I have no kinship with the two young ladies pictured. The relationship began because I serve as an elder for a congregation where we all worship. That instantly put upon me a responsibility to watch out for them. From there, friendships were forged. Not because I made them happen, but because I gave them the opportunity to happen. Each of them decided – I didn’t – that friendship was worthwhile. I’m glad they did.

Friendships don’t just happen. We have to foster them. And they can’t be forced, but they can be nurtured. When these 2 young ladies entered my life (not at the same time), I had no expectation of friendship. I only had expectations of what I was going to do for them – watch out for them. I knew I was going to serve them and their parents. It was non-negotiable for me. But that was on me. Not them.

My only expectation for them was to allow me to do that for them. That meant, they had to allow themselves to be accountable to me in the context of being a spiritual leader for them. That’s not necessarily an easy thing, but these two girls are very smart, wise and sober-minded. They didn’t hesitate. And it wasn’t something we hashed out. I started checking on them and they immediately responded. Over time we developed relationships and trust built. Quickly friendships formed as they learned more and more to respect my intentions. They knew – and now they know even more – that I care their welfare. And their life. And their ability to learn, grow, develop and improve. Without imposing on them what I may do in their situation.

I’m not them. They’re not me. We’re worlds apart in many ways. But they know I have a perspective, experience and wisdom that can help them think through whatever choices they face. And that’s the bottom line of our friendship – and all this passing it on. Thinking clearly. Gaining insights.

Sure, there are serious expectations I have for them, and for the other young adults in my life. One, I don’t want them to be ruled by fear. I want to help them think through their fears so they can manage them, or overcome them. Two, I don’t want them to be victims. I want them to face the reality that life is going to determined by their choices and behaviors. Bad things can happen to them. Bad people, too. But in the end, what they choose to think, believe and feel will determine what they choose to do. Roll all that up and it’ll determine what they do, which will give them the outcome. I don’t want them waking up each day feeling as though the universe is going to dictate anything. Three, I want them to be optimistic. I want them to expect the best outcome possible. I know that if I can help them be more optimistic then their lives can be greatly enhanced. Four, I want them to be empathetic. I don’t know how to teach it, or even if it can be taught. But I want them to not judge people harshly by assigning motives and feelings on others. I want them to embrace forgiveness and not let bitterness creep into their lives. Empathy is the answer. Fifth, I want them to be grateful. We’ve all got blessings. Most of us have far more blessings than we realize. It requires concentrated effort to make mental (or even physical) note of them. Gratitude is such an enormous positive power in life, it’s important to me that they embrace it and make it a lifelong habit.

Friendships are built on mutual caring and trust. Passing it on is important because of these two things. And there’s the burden of responsibility, too. I owe it to them. They deserve it. They’re worth it.

The Value of a 2-Way Street

Collective wisdom is only powerful and valuable if it’s shared. Collected. And collective.

It doesn’t flow only from me toward them. It flows back to me, too. It’s not selfish. It’s just highly valuable.

These girls and other young adults in my life teach me a lot. They provoke questions and conversations that help us both. They face issues that prompt deeper thinking on my part.

Their insights enhance my own. Sometimes their insights may alter my own. A 40 year age gap provides different viewpoints that help us gain clarity in life.

To assume that age gives us a lock on wisdom and insight is foolish. I’ve never made any such assumption. “Out of the mouth of babes,” and all that is an absolute truth. Those of us who are older have much to learn from the younger. We come from very different times. It’s not right or wrong. It’s different. And I find it very cool because it helps me navigate the present – always the present – instead of being stuck in the past. Granted, I’m not prone to living in the past. I suspect that’s one reason – very strong reason – why younger adults may be able to better relate to me. The past experiences only provide stories used to illustrate insights that can help them face some present opportunity or challenge.

Every Generation Deserves It

Our children and young people deserve our best effort to share our wisdom. They also deserve the freedom to take our stories, distill from them whatever they will and create their own path. That doesn’t mean they deserve the right to behave poorly. Nobody deserves that. But it’s their life. Our hope as mentors is to help them navigate it to the best of their ability.

Watching their growth is pretty stinking terrific. I love it. I love the work. It’s a great time of life.

“Each generation imagines itself to be more intelligent than the one that went before it, and wiser than the one that comes after it.” -George Orwell

A generation may not necessarily be better or worse. Just different. Choices and behavior determine our greatness. Every generation deserves the best opportunity to be great. The opportunity to make thoughtful, sober, conscious choices in their own lives.

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Music. Movies. Books.

Songs. Stories.

We love them. Enjoy them. Remember them.

I’m not a fan of the musical, but there are 2 that I love – and have owned on DVD for years. Paint Your Wagon with Clint Eastwood and Lee Marvin. A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Forum with Zero Mostel and Phil Silvers. Both are funny. Both make me smile. That makes them memorable for me.

Music is a much bigger player in my life. Lyrics and harmonies are the focal points for me. Songwriters have long exclaimed that most songs are about some sort of love. Often about lost love. Heartbreak and heartache. But these are audience consumables. We’re watching a movie. Listening to a song. Reading a book. Reaching a big audience doesn’t always rely on relatability, as evidenced by this past weekend with the release of the movie, Avengers: Infinity War. The film was produced for about $320 million and this past weekend – that’s right WEEKEND – it grossed over $640 million. I’ve not seen it, but I know it’s about superheroes. I don’t know any superheroes so I know it’s not relatable like that, but clearly millions of people love the fictional stories of superheroes.

We’re being entertained. And it’s fine. Better than fine really because I suppose it gives us the break from reality that helps us cope better with ours. All in moderation of course.

But then there are more personal stories shared by others that really impact us. Not like the temporary smiles provided by a movie like Support Your Local Gunfighter with James Garner (another favorite of mine). I even use it as my Twitter and Facebook header image because it makes me smile. I’m talking about something deeper. More impactful. Longer lasting. A real connection.

There’s a guy I follow named Bryan Elliott. He produces a web series, Behind The Brand. I don’t know Bryan personally, but I like him. He’s earned my attention. Back in February, he posted a little segment of a longer interview he did with Seth Godin. It’s about 9 minutes and it perfectly illustrates the title of today’s episode. You need to watch it.

Bryan tells Seth that during their first interview back in 2009 Seth gave him the best advice. Seth didn’t remember giving it to him, but it was pretty good stuff.

Bryan shared the story of his pain as an adopted boy. Grateful and thankful for the family who adopted him and loved him, Bryan grew up with the urge to find his real mother. He had questions and was desperate for answers. It’s a very touching story best heard directly from Bryan. So go watch the video of him telling it. I promise you’ll be moved. It just might make you a fan, even if you’ve never heard of him before.

Why?

Because you can’t hear him, or watch him and avoid thinking, “He’s real. I can relate.”

I’m not adopted. I know my parents. I knew my grandparents. But back in February when I first watched the interview Bryan did with Seth, I was moved by his story. Yes, I was already following him, but the connection grew deeper for me. Bryan showed me something I hadn’t seen before. He opened himself up and became vulnerable.

It’s all this hard stuff – our pain, our suffering, our heartache – that forges strong connections. I say hard stuff because it’s hard for people to share all that. We’re prone to hide. To make sure we look good. And sound good. Proving to the world, and fooling ourselves, that we’ve got it all together. But we don’t. Deep down we all know it, but there’s just enough doubt to make us think, “I’m such a failure. Look at them!”

What we care about. That’s the deal. Self-preservation. Putting on the front so others think well of us. It’s inside most of us. Society has conditioned us. We’ve spent years looking at people who seem better, smarter, better looking, more talented, more successful than we are. We have to do what we have to do to show we’re at least trying to keep up. That we belong

Question: To what are we trying to belong?

The fraternity of other frauds? A group of people who are behaving just like us, pretenders?

Question: Who are we trying to fool? And why?

Everybody. I get it. We want to fool everybody. Maybe most of all, we want to fool ourselves. And there’s the danger. Self-delusion.

The irony of it all is that the thing we most seek – connection with others – is foiled by our behavior. Hiding ruins it. Courage fosters it.

The paradox is that showing our underwear (my metaphor for letting others see our pain) promotes easy connection with others. And that takes courage because it feels like weakness. Fear takes over, forcing us to rationalize that if we let anybody see us sweat, then they’ll know we’re not as great as we want them to think we are. We’re afraid people will think less of us.

You know the truth? People aren’t thinking about us anyway. They’re busying thinking about their own lives. They’re wrapped up in their pain, suffering, and heartache. Sure, they’re also wrapped up in their success, accomplishment, and happiness (or their ongoing quest for it all). You don’t think so? Take a moment and think about yourself. In the last hour, have you thought about anybody more than you’ve thought about yourself – your own life? The stuff going on in your life?

Well, there you go!

We’ve conned ourselves into thinking that hiding is better. That it serves us well. But it never does. And it ruins our ability to connect because we’re just another lemming in the sea working hard to make sure the other lemmings see no difference. Meanwhile, we’re all living secret lives of desperation. Here’s my copy if a classic book I’ve had since 1988, “Quiet Desperation: The Truth About Successful Men” by Jan Halper, Ph.D. That quote on the cover is by leadership expert Jim Kouzes, who at the time was the President of The Tom Peters Group. Here’s what he wrote about this book, “Explodes the myth of business as a totally rational process…a compelling and ultimately uplifting book about how men feel.”

The title of the book is taken from a Thoreau quote,

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.

The book began in the late 1970’s as a study to develop a management training program that could deliver a better leadership style. Over the course of conducting many conversations with successful men, the author discovered men talking about things they didn’t reveal to anybody else. They talked about their relationships, marriages, careers, fears, and dreams. They opened up, revealing themselves. Along the way, they shared why it was so hard to show up that way with their peers, spouses, and friends. They were reluctant to share, but each proved desperate to change but didn’t know how. They weren’t just executives. They were men. Humans. People dreaming, even desiring, to change. But stuck in their fear to operate any differently than they had in the past.

For the first time in my life, I feel like my professional life, my personal life and my spiritual life are falling into alignment better than they ever have before. I don’t mean to say that up to now my life has been all these multiple, incongruent buckets of activity and philosophy. But never before has all my energy, thought and actions been more perfectly aligned where it feels like one path is pretty parallel to the other lanes of my life. It’s a good feeling. To be living more open, authentic to who and what I really am – and more importantly, to be a better version of myself. The goal hasn’t changed…to become better every day.

When I first read the book, I had no idea that 30 years later I’d be embarking on a new professional journey to help business owners – not just men – overcome this very thing. That’s what The Peer Advantage by Bula Network is all about – a professional peer advisory group designed to serve small business owners operating businesses in the $10-50 million range. If you’re a small business owner or know somebody who is – and you care about your growth as a business leader and a person, then I’m going to invite you to check it out (and at least have a free conversation with me to see if it’s something suitable for us to work together).

It’s fascinating when the desperation that has been quiet for so long comes out. Like Bryan Elliott’s. For some reason, at that moment sitting with Seth Godin, he was compelled to open up about it. He decided to go with his heart instead of his head. To lean into his emotional space instead of his fears. My guess – and it’s strictly a guess based on how we all behave as humans – is that he just up and decided. If he’d thought too much about it, he probably would have talked himself out of it. Fear would have ruled the moment instead of brutal honesty.

Let’s clarify and differentiate complaining and whining from letting down our fear-based guard to share our pain. One is selfish. The other is genuine. They’re not kin to each other. Not even close. So don’t confuse yourself or try to confuse others, hoping they’ll accept your moaning for being authentically candid.

Too many people embrace being a victim. Because it feels good believing it’s not our fault. Short-term salve doesn’t heal though. It just makes us feel better in the moment. And actually furthers the damage.

People who enter a room with a moan often tickle me. They don’t mean to. They’re hoping I’ll feel bad for them. Instead, I feel bad for myself having to hear them sigh. “Oh, your poor, poor person!” That’s what they’re going for. And they get it. It doesn’t help them though.

Any attention will do. It’s a habit. A sick, bad, destructive habit.

I’m not talking about that.

I’m talking about reaching a spot where we allow our heart to let go of the pent-up pain. A place where we’re brave enough to embrace our humanity. Where we feel confident enough and brave enough to let others know about our struggles. Our pain. Our suffering.

At that moment – in that very instance – we’re connected to such people more than to that expert or guru who tells us how together they are. Those folks spewing all the advice, telling us what we should do, and what we shouldn’t do. Inadvertently (or maybe, advertently) robbing us of the experience to figure things out, own our own stuff and live our own lives without feeling like a victim.

But this isn’t about gurus. It’s about YOU. It’s about US. However ordinary or extraordinary we may be. It’s about all of us.

It’s about those of us who are financially wealthy and those of us who are financially strapped. It’s about those of us who are debt-free and those of us who are debt-laden. It’s about those of us who are single and those of us who are married. It’s about those of us who lack any color and those of who have color. Any color. It’s about those of us with lots of letters behind our name indicating high achievement in education and those of us with not so much as G.E.D. behind ours.

Humanity has this in common. Not just pain, suffering, and heartache, but the bigger burden of fear.

False Evidence Appearing Real

Boy, does it appear real? In an upcoming episode of LTW, I plan to share some more insights about how our beliefs drive our lives. I’ve told you I’m reading a book about our minds – the way we think – impacts our life. We’re likely much more capable of controlling our destiny than we realize. And there’s no doubt in my mind that we can accomplish much more if we can simply find a way to believe it. Simple. But not easy to do. Or more people would do it.

Personality traits aren’t lost on me. Some people are shy and bashful. Others are open and loud. Still others are a bit of both. What’s easy for some, is crazy hard for others. I’m empathetic. I’m also open and candid if the circumstances allow it. I tend to let the game come to me. I’m not prone to force the game. I don’t judge folks who roll differently. We’re still all humans. Each of us fully capable of hiding, putting on a mask, hoping and wanting others to think we’re better than we really are. Overcoming those fears is individual to us. But the fears are universal.

Does it motivate you to fully understand that what we endure – the bad stuff – drives us to deeper connections? Is that not a good enough reward to consider finding safe spaces and spots where you can do it? Or do it more?

There’s two parts to this. Well, maybe more than two. There’s US. There’s THEM. The other people to whom we feel a deep connection.

Yesterday here in Dallas Jason Witten, the famed Dallas Cowboys’ tight end retired to join Monday Night Football. Fifteen years in the league, all of them as a Cowboy. Coach Bill Parcells drafted him in the 3rd round in 2003. By all accounts, he’s who we think he is. A genuinely good guy who mostly tries to do the right thing. Oh, and he’s a future Hall of Famer, too.

Like all retiring professional athletes, Witten said he’d mostly remember the moments with teammates. And he’ll miss the locker room, that band-of-brothers feeling going through the same struggles and pain with teammates.

The accolades are great. The winning, too. But the grind is memorable when we share the experience with others. Jason Witten’s life as a Dallas Cowboy likely includes a larger circle than mine, or yours, but we can still relate to the pain. I’ve never experienced the pain, suffering or heartache of a professional athlete, but Witten’s realness was always enhanced because we got to see him as “a guy.” Whenever the team would lose – which happened quite a lot over the last 15 years – Witten would be the guy stepping up to field hard questions by the press. Others would hide. He never did.

Reliable. Dependable. Honest. Durable.

It’s what we aspire to be ourselves. And it demonstrates that it doesn’t matter if you’re a multi-million dollar a year pro athlete or just some working schlub…the deep connections are with family and friends with whom you can safely share your pain. And the THEM matters because the people willing to view you as a safe person with whom to share their pain…they’re the ones drawn more deeply to you.

Laughs are terrific. Smiles, too. Good times. We need them. They add zest to our lives. But the growth and connection mostly occur when we’re grinding our way through or past adversity. And when we encounter somebody brave to enough to step out. Somebody with the courage to not hide their pain, fears, and failures.

What does this mean for you? I don’t know. Do with it as you please.

Do you want to focus on not hiding as much? On being less hypocritical? On being more open and pulling off the mask?

Do you want to shell down the adversity, challenges, and opportunities with somebody?

I hope you find value in the truth of what connects us to help you move away from the fear that may be standing in your way of embracing the shared pain where we can benefit each other. And where we can not make it just about ourselves, but about helping each other knowing that we’re all hurting in some way. Cue the R.E.M. song, “Everybody Hurts.”

Be well. Grow great. Lean toward wisdom.

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On April 21, 2018 former first lady Barbara Bush was laid to rest. She was 92, the wife of our 41st President and the mother of our 43rd. Two former Presidents, Barbara’s son, George W. and Obama shook hands with the clear aim being the consolation at the death of a mom. The photo dispells the very title of today’s show – the death of empathy. But not really.

Empathy, as a widespread, viral-like experience may not be dead, but she’s on life-support. Greater Good Magazine, produced by the University of California at Berkley, defines empathy like this…

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His name was Rocky. Like all Westies (he was a White West Highland Terrier; commonly called Westies) he’d cock his head when he was puzzled. You may be puzzled, too. I often am. Which is why I’m always asking questions. And I’m great at it – asking questions, that is. By the way, I lost Rocky a few years ago and he gave me quite a lot. I gave him a lot, too. In a word, love!

Today’s question is pretty stinking ancient, but it’s not as ancient as another question that is asked more, “What do you have to give me?” Flip it and let’s not think about ourselves from a “getting” perspective but from a “giving” perspective.

But let’s start with keeping score. I’m competitive, but I’m not a scorekeeper. I’m am blessed. Grateful.

I’m a baby boomer, born in an old-school era. Where kids could ride in the back of a pickup truck through town. And not be pulled over by cops.

I’m an American. A country with tremendous opportunities and freedoms.

I’m blessed with a ton of empathy. I was emotionally intelligent before I even knew that was a thing.

I’m an INFJ. Highly intuitive. Introversion (I), Intuition (N), Feeling (F), Judgment (J) — and it’s a blessing. I own it. Long ago I learned I might as well because I’m unable to change it.

I’m candid. And that’s a blessing, too.

I’m a speed freak. Okay, blessing and curse somewhat. No, much more a blessing.

Knowing who you are and how you have to roll isn’t keeping score. But there’s more.

You also have to know what you’re afraid of. We all have a ton of fear! Life has absolutely been terrific at teaching me that fear is THE culprit that spoils success. It paralyzes people. It gives people an excuse. Tons of them. It stops us before we even get started. And it’s almost always tied to somebody. Somebody close to us. Somebody we love. Somebody who may love us. Or may just say they do.

Fear causes us to hide. It feels safe, but it’s deceptive. Dangerous. It lulls us into behavior that wrecks any opportunities we have to achieve, grow and reach a higher capacity for our lives. Fear is a nasty, ridiculously effective enemy.

Why then would we wrap it around our shoulders like a comforter on a bitterly cold night?

Because it feels good. Sorta like eating half a dozen glazed donuts. Or one of those 2000 plus calorie concrete ice cream shakes from Sonic.

Because it seems like we’re convincing ourselves that we’re protecting ourselves. Operative word is, “seems.” Looks are sometimes deceiving.

What has this got to do with figuring out what we have to give? Everything.

Let’s look at this from your perspective. You’re no different than the rest of us. You want to be special. You want to feel like you’re valuable. To somebody. In some way.

That can fuel narcissism, an unhealthy focus thinking you’re all that and more — where you’re diluted thinking you’re somehow more special than everybody else. So you live your life intent on showing us the movie that is your life feigning interest in others only so you can get more attention for yourself. It’s all about you when you’re narcissistic. Let’s not likely you because you’re not paying me, or anybody else much attention if you’re really that self-centered. Unless you think there’s something we can do to shine a brighter light on you. And my little light runs on two AA batteries so I’m no help at all. 😉

You’re special. But you’re no more special than me, or anybody else. Do you really think we all have value? That we all have the potential to bring value to the world, in some way? Come on, be honest! That’s the problem with unfair, harsh judgment and prejudice. This has nothing to do with the actual value provided because clearly there are people who don’t provide value. That doesn’t mean it’s impossible for them. It just means, for some reason, they choose not to deliver. They decided not to give. Maybe they decided they’d just focus on taking. Too busy doing that to give anything of value to others. It happens.

It’s why people grow discontented. And suffer envy. Jealousy. It’s why you get sucked into measuring yourself by what’s going on with other people. In spite of the truth that what’s going on with them has no bearing on you and your life. Unless you let it. Which is stupid.

Your neighbor pulls a brand new Tesla into their driveway. Suddenly, you and your Toyota feel inferior. Like a failure. Just another instance of the dangers of comparing yourself to anybody else. Their Tesla has nothing to do with you…but suddenly it does. Because you let it. We need to stop it. And it’s hard. Really hard for some of us.

I get it. I’ve been there. I’m a baby boomer. We grew up chasing and pursuing it hard.

You know what I love about minimalism, the tiny house movement and all the talk about frugal living? Because they’re congruent with how I really see the world. Chasing materialism goes against everything I believe. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with owning a Tesla, or a Bentley if that’s what you want. Just leave me alone if I don’t follow you down that path. ‘Cause those don’t matter one whit to me. I love the margin that affordability offers. Enter my admiration for those things like minimalism.

That may not feel good to you. That’s fine. Just don’t gauge my life by your measuring stick. And don’t expect me to gauge my life the way you may gauge yours.

It’s freedom. It’s a start toward lowering your fears, too.

Your lifestyle holds you hostage. You “need” so much money. Well, you think so. Because you’ve got stuff. Your stuff owns you. And man is that a rotten place to be. Crowded, too.

Focus on yourself. Stop focusing so much on yourself. It’s the paradox of contradiction. The zig and the zag. The Yin and the Yang.

Besides regret, what are you afraid of?

Me?

I’m afraid of losing people who matter to me. Because I know that’s likely as I grow older.

Most of us have people-based fears. We don’t want to disappoint somebody. We want somebody’s approval. Or respect. It’s likely our parents or a spouse. But honestly, it’s like your neighbor’s Tesla. It’s got nothing to do with you, but it’s also got everything to do with you. It’s YOU. Not them.

We get things wrong in our own head, which is why I’m so fascinated by our brains and our minds. New flash: what you think matters! We’ve talked about that quite a lot here inside The Yellow Studio. For good reason. What we think and what we believe changes things. Changes everything.

Back in episode 5001 – the first episode of this new iteration of LTW – I talked about a book that I hadn’t yet read, “Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself: How to Lose Your Mind and Create a New One,” by Dr. Joe Dispenza. Well, I started reading that book last week. When I’m finished I’ll do a show about what I learned so you can learn it, too. But I’m far enough into it to confirm what we all know is THE difference maker. How we think and what we believe.

It’s so fundamentally valuable because it determines our actions. And how long we’ll stay with something to make it work. It’s the linchpin to our success. In anything.

That matters because it’s at the heart of today’s topic, the question – What do you have to give?

You may think you have nothing. You may even believe that. Well, then you’re right. Not technically, but practically. First, you have to find value in yourself so you can determine where you can provide value to others.

For instance, there are many things I’ve learned about myself. Things that are natural, normal and feel just right for me. Because that’s how they are in my life, I can discount them and think, “That’s not so special.” Wrong.

Yesterday news broke that Lindsey Buckingham was quitting Fleetwood Mac. They’re planning a new tour. Depending on the news report you choose to believe, he quit or was fired. In his place will be two guys I really like. Mike Campbell of The Heartbreakers, Tom Petty’s band. And Tim Finn of Crowded House. Frankly, neither of them will be able to pull off being Lindsey Buckingham in my opinion, but that’s 3 guitar players who are all insanely good guitarists. Put a guitar in their hands and you get magic. Put a guitar in my hands and you’ve got a big bag of nothing!

But put me in touch with somebody who trusts me and is willing to share their troubles, and I’m a rockstar. I thrive on deep conversations. I love them. I love being a shoulder people can lean on. I don’t shy away from it. It’s who I am.

Just because you’re good at something…and it comes easily and naturally to you doesn’t mean it’s not valuable. You have to get past that kind of faulty thinking. Mike Campbell is a killer guitar player. According to Tom Petty, when he first met Mike it was clear Mike was a natural. So because he’s a natural and it’s easy for him we don’t think he’s good? Wrong. We all bow to his prowess. He’s terrific. You are, too — at something!

The crux of it is to figure that out. And to think of our contribution. What we have to give!

Put that upfront. Not what you need. Not what you want to get. But what you want to DO. What you have to give. Something that is naturally easy for you that is valuable. Not necessarily in terms of money (but maybe). Something that other people likely already see in you. If you’re young, maybe they don’t yet see it, but you do. Or you suspect it’s what you’ve got to give.

Magical things start happening. We get less focused on ourselves and more focused on others. We increase our gratitude for what we’ve got, growing less focused on what we lack. Our energy is elevated as we’re doing what feels right, and natural for us. The more we do it, the better it gets. The more expansive things become.

It doesn’t have to be some “save the planet” type deal. It just has to be “save the moment” type deals. I can spend an hour or more on the phone listening to somebody’s troubles and ask some questions along the way to provoke deeper thought – and hopefully to help provide greater clarity – and I’m foolish enough to think I’m going to change somebody’s life (that’d be wonderful if it happened). I am practical enough to know that I’m very likely changing a moment though — and that’s what I have to give. And I’m good with the bigness of that.

You just gave me quite a few moments. I hope I changed them in a positive way for you. That was my goal all along!

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Jeremiah Denton died on the morning of March 28, 2014. He was 89. You never heard of him? I’m sorry to admit it, but neither had I. Today I’ve been reading about him in the news.

During the Viet Nam war, Denton, a US Navy flyer, was shot down in July 1965 and captured by the North Vietnamese. For 7.5 years he suffered as a POW under horrible conditions, including the famed “Hanoi Hilton.” In his book, When Hell Was In Session, he wrote…

In the early morning hours, I prayed that I could keep my sanity until they released me. I couldn’t even give in to their demands, because there were none. It was pure revenge.”

Denton suffered torture. During an interview in 1966 that his captors shot, he blinked the word T-O-R-T-U-R-E using morse code. The North Vietnamese were unaware, but the United States got the message loud and clear.

For 4 years he endured solitary confinement. As if being in a windowless, nasty, filthy cell wasn’t enough.

When the war ended he was released in February 1973. I’m now interested in reading his book because I have no idea how he endured this experience. I realize there were many other POW’s who made it out of Viet Nam alive. I also know there were countless who never made it home. In fact, for many years after the war ended, there was speculation that many POW’s were still being held illegally by the North Vietnamese. We may never know for certain.

I was just getting my driver’s license when Denton was released. I have vivid memories of the network news devoting almost all the newscast to the war. Walter Cronkite was far and away the most trusted news anchor in America during this time. Dan Rather and other notable journalists were in the field, providing us with daily reports.

And there were body counts. Those dreaded body counts. We were told how many Americans had died versus how many North Vietnamese had been killed. It was a gruesome, depressing time.

I was always fascinated by the Viet Nam war. I watched documentaries on it. Read books about it. It was the first unconventional war in that, the enemy didn’t always wear an identifiable uniform. So much to take in, but that’s not the point today. No, today the point is resilience. The point is determination. And hope. Survival.

How does a person under such duress press on day after day without losing hope? How did Jeremiah Denton and other POW’s survive the beatings and torture for such a long time? Did they use psychological tricks the rest of us don’t know? Were they endowed with some super-duper mental toughness that only a few of us possess?

For decades I’ve been fascinated by these things. It’s a bit like the pain level difference in people. Some can withstand tremendous pain and not think it’s that bad. Others can get a hangnail and whine as though they’re on the brink of death. What gives?

Mr. Denton’s story of survival brings to the forefront – just one more time – the power of enduring and grinding it out. Since I’m a business guy, one of my first thoughts when I read of his death, was how sometimes in our business pursuits we let the smallest obstacle foil our success. The minute we run into our first, “No!” we pack up our bags and quit, thinking that nobody is ever going to buy this.

Okay, we don’t all do that because if we did nobody would succeed. Clearly, the successful among us aren’t so easily defeated. But you know the successful are far fewer than those who fail. Does the 80/20 rule apply? Probably.

I could easily believe that only 20% of the people who set out to make a go of some business enterprise succeed…while 80% fail.”

I’ll go you one better. I’d venture to guess it’s more like 90/10. Who knows? Who cares? Here’s the deal – one man endures 7.5 years of torture in a North Vietnamese prison camp while another guy makes a cold call resulting in, “No, I’m not interested” and quits. He can’t take it. Not one more time. Not another call.

Really?

Yep, really.

Or maybe a guy knows what his next step might be toward success, but he’s stuck. Literally. He can’t move. He’s paralyzed. Unable to take that action, whatever it might be.

What’s he afraid of? What if the worst-case scenario happened? Would it be .0001% as bad as being in a POW camp? NO. NO COMPARISON.

Are we too soft?

Yes. We absolutely are.

I’m not talking about enjoying rejection, or pain. I’m not talking about being a masochist (a person who enjoys suffering and pain). Some of those freaks are out there, but I don’t think that describes most of us. I hope not anyway.

No, I’m talking about our sheer tolerance for a little bit of pain and suffering. Let me put it in context for you. I’m talking about the pain and suffering required to IMPROVE our condition. I’m not talking about enduring it simply because we want to live long enough hopeful we’ll regain our freedom. I’m talking about business people, salespeople, leaders or anybody else who is enduring the pain of failure as they try to find success! These people are aiming for success, not merely survival. They’re striving to earn more, serve more, do better – and a host of other worthwhile goals.

Failure isn’t fun. But if we let the smallest hurdle stumble us, then doesn’t it appear we’re more committed to failure than success. Ah, now we’re onto something I think.

Sometimes we’re too committed to failure, even though that failure generates more pain and suffering. Okay, we need Freud or some other brainiac to enlighten us I guess. Or, we can look at the obvious, think about our fears, and our suffering – and decide we want something else. That’s right, we can DECIDE to do something else.

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