Success

successSuccess is defined in the dictionary as the completion of a task or assignment. On the face of it the word has a very direct and easily measured meaning, but over time we have attributed many different and personal ideas to the nature of what serves as the definitive explanation of success. More often than not, we rarely think of the achievement of ordinary goals as constituting anything worthy of being considered a success. Instead we tend to attribute a great deal more splendor to the concept, and we save it for descriptions of grand deeds or tremendous financial gains. In our minds the successful person is more often the one who wins the race, rather than those who merely participated and made it to the finish line. I suspect that in our adoration of those who reach heights that are less attainable to the vast majority, we have often overlooked and undervalued the day to day efforts of an army of nameless and faceless people who keep our world functioning.

Our competitive natures are such that we have a tendency to rank individuals as winners and losers. Someone who manages to earn vast amounts of money is sometimes viewed with more reverence than those who toil for little compensation. We suggest to our children that pursuing certain more profitable careers is somehow more laudable than doing something about which they are passionate. We are in awe of titles and degrees more so than dedication and altruism. We begin quite early to identify and reward children who learn more easily than their peers, making them appear to be a bit more worthy of our praise. By the time that our kids become adults they have been subliminally taught that survival of the fittest means scrambling for the top rather than taking care to reach a personal goal.

It is little wonder that our general focus on success as a contest to determine who ends up with the most medals, or marbles or toys or titles has so confused and even depressed our young. The quest for merit begins at younger and younger ages. Now we want our toddlers to begin the rudiments of reading. There are toys that teach them pre-Algebra skills. We enroll them in music lessons and sports and get them accustomed to competing for positions on teams. We continually send the message that their interests and efforts should be aimed toward end goals that will supply them with prestige and wealth. Rarely would any of us consider counseling our children to rejoice in the pursuit of dreams that are ordinary. We want them aiming for the stars, which means that if one of them wants to work on a job that seems homely and ordinary we will discourage them from pursuing it. All too often we make our youth feel as though they are failures simply because they choose different paths than the ones that we desire for them.

I spent a weekend with my nephew and his family and marveled at the evidence of his quite obvious success. He and his wife came from humble backgrounds and through study and hard work have achieved even beyond their own dreams. Both of them are devoted doctors who are  considered among the best in their respective fields. Their efforts have brought them both tangible and personal rewards. They enjoy the fruits of their labors and share them generously. They have managed to raise their children to be as unspoiled as they are. Virtually anyone who might meet them would readily assign the label of success and admiration to them, as it most assuredly should be, but the true extent of their achievements lies not so much in their collection of the trappings, but in the content of their character. They are truly successful because they chose to follow their own personal passions, and did so by pushing themselves to have a purpose in all that they have done.

There is a great deal of talk these days regarding who makes the best kind of leader for our country. We’ve tried scholars such as Woodrow Wilson and engineers like Herbert Hoover and Jimmy Carter. We’ve had lawyers in the embodiment of Abraham Lincoln and Barrack Obama. We’ve tried businessmen, farmers, military generals, and even actors. It was not so much those who had scaled the heights of their respective professions who proved to be the greatest among our presidents, but individuals who brought both intellect and honor to the job. The best among them somehow understood that success was defined not by praise for themselves but wins for the people for whom they worked. So it should be for each of us who choose how we desire to live our lives. It is in focusing on the greater good that we find the sense of accomplishment that we desire, rather than in the awards that we receive.

I’ve often counseled my students to find what interests them, and then apply dedication and imagination to doing the necessary tasks of their lines of work with great love. Digging a draianage ditch to the most exacting specifications is as noble as inventing a cure for cancer. When the rains come and that hole in the ground does its intended job of preventing floods, something quite grand has been accomplished. Think of how glorious our world would be if each individual so valued his/her contribution to society that all efforts were done with great care. That is the true definition of success, and the one that we should be teaching our children.

I also have a relative who is a minister. He earns very little money and has few worldly goods, but he is as devoted to his work as the good doctors that I described earlier. He believes in the importance of his vocation and he gives his all to being a guiding light and source of comfort to his congregation. I am in awe of him because I know that he has sacrificed greatly to follow his calling. He has done so with a heart so big that he is touching the very souls of his flock.

I suspect that much of the angst that we are imposing on our children might be alleviated if we were to stress the importance of doing whatever we choose with great pride. In turn those of us watching young people make their way into life must always value their choices and provide them with the encouragement that they need. We seriously have to take care not to send messages that make them feel that what they are doing is somehow less worthy than what others do.

As an educator I have longed to find a way to develop each human at his or her own pace and without all of the numerical data that attempts to squeeze individuals into one size fits all definitions of success and failure. I love the idea that life is a continuum connected by an infinite number of points through which we flow as we accomplish tasks in a manner that takes our unique talents and difficulties into consideration. Whenever we do something well it feels glorious and serves to encourage us to keep moving forward. Sadly we all to often look up to notice that the rest of the society is focused mostly on those whose efforts appear to be more significant than our own. We become discouraged and question ourselves. We feel undervalued and lose focus.

I have seen success on a grand level and in the smallest of ways. It is something to always celebrate. I am that child who wowed my teachers academically but who frustrated them athletically. When I finally learned how to connect a baseball bat with a ball and send that orb flying over an open field I felt as accomplished as I did when I earned a college degree. Because I had teachers, mentors and guides to encourage me no matter how many failures I endured I felt the surge of success in my heart and it was so good. My hope as I travel through the twilight years of my life is that somehow I might send the message to our youth and the people who are guiding them that success is exactly as the definition describes, the completion of a task. There are no parameters of time. There are no rankings of the value of the work. Success implies a willingness to get back up even after failure to get a job done. When the ending produces something accomplished with great care, it is indeed a beautiful thing, and we all need to learn how to celebrate success as it was meant to be.

The Last Lecture

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I love to listen to the radio while I drive, but I prefer talk shows over music. I spent some time listening to conservative programs, but when I reached the point of becoming so angry that I considered shooting the bird to nobody in particular I realized that it was time to try something different. Of late I’ve been enjoying NPR where I’ve learned so many interesting and quirky things. Last week I heard about a professor at Sam Houston State University who’s offering a last lecture series. It’s based on the idea of providing one’s own elegy before death. The prof got the notion from an Oprah program that featured a guest who was dying of cancer who had given a powerful final lecture to his students. The incident was recorded and went viral after it was uploaded on YouTube. Now a number of teachers at Sam Houston are volunteering to give their own versions of final lessons for their students.

The format is interesting in that the speaker tells a brief history of his/her life and then gives advice on how to live a full and meaningful existence. Those who have agreed to lay bare their souls have found that they leave the experience feeling quite fulfilled. Their public self reflections are as helpful to them as to their listeners. They serve as reminders that we should cherish each breath that we take, and do our best to make each moment as meaningful as possible. We assume that we have miles to go before we travel down the rainbow highway, but we never really know when our time here on earth will end. It’s actually a challenging but freeing experience to look back on what we have accomplished and assess how well we have done.

The program made me wonder what I might say if I were given an opportunity to present a last lecture of sorts. What might I tell an audience that would make a difference or inspire? Where would I begin?

I’ve already written a memoir, but it focuses mostly on my mother and the trials that so defined her life. I suppose that like her my own story has a before and after all having to do with my father’s death. Literally everything in my world changed in an instant that was tragic but also hardly the end of my world. I learned that life takes twists and turns that seem impossible to overcome at the time, but in reality help us to grow and become stronger. In my own case it took a very long while for me to regain my footing. I was afraid and unsure of myself even with the amazing strength of mother to guide me. Ironically it was when I became responsible for her care after her first mental breakdown that I realized just how much courage I was capable of mustering. I was literally forced by circumstances to either sink or swim, and I chose to dog paddle my way through situations that once might have terrified me. There is strange twist in the fact that I learned how to be brave at a time when I was most afraid.

I always wanted to be a highly successful and accomplished woman, but I somehow believed that doing so meant that I needed to be rich and famous. I felt a bit ashamed that my biography was seemingly so ordinary. After all who really views a mom and a teacher as someone outstanding? I knew that I was never going to be honored as an exceptional graduate or have my name in a headline or on a marquee, but I have to admit that I made great choices that I would repeat again if I had the opportunity to live my life all over again. It felt good to quietly make a difference in my own children and my many students. There was great meaning in what I did from day to day and that has always been important to me.

If I were to share the advice that I deem to be the most important it would be to follow one’s heart. Life should be joyful, and if we are not feeling a burst of happiness and satisfaction in whatever we do, then maybe we are in the wrong place. Of course not every single day will ever be perfect, but there should at the very least be meaning and a sense of importance in whatever we choose to do. My advice for young people has been to find their passions and follow them. If they do so they will rarely go astray.

I have always attempted to be a woman of integrity. I have few secrets and most of those are things that I do not share in order to protect other people. Otherwise my life is an open book. I admit to my imperfections and do my best to improve them. I try not to judge or be self righteous. I honor and love people and accept and cherish differences. Doing so is the spice of life that makes each day more interesting. I try to be humble, but I am indeed proud of my family and my friends and the work I have done. I believe It gets one nowhere to brood over what is lacking rather than counting the blessings that are always there. Mostly I know that the key to a life well lived is found in the simple act of love. It is in giving of ourselves to the people around us that we become our very best. Being able to glance in the mirror and like what we see is a tremendous gift, but it takes hard work to achieve.

At the end of the day our possessions and our wealth mean so little. We can’t take anything with us, but we can leave behind legacies that continue to inspire long after we are gone. We never know what people will say about us as they gather to mourn but we always hope they will know and remember how much we truly cared. It is in sharing adventures and travels and learning and quiet moments that we are most likely to find our way into hearts. The best among us are always ready to listen or comfort or just laugh.

I recently answered a reference call for one of my former students. I haven’t seen him for quite some time, but when asked what kind of personality he has the words that came to my mind were sensitive and compassionate. I have forgotten his flaws and only recall his sweetness. That’s how we tend to be when someone has shown us kindness, and he always did. I suspect that every one of us would very much like to be remembered like that. I know I would.

A high school friend recently asked me what I would write about him if he were to die. He was curious to know what kind of man I perceive him to be. I was happy to be able to tell him what a positive impact he has had on this world. He possesses high principles and constantly strives to live up to the standards that he has developed as a guideline for living. He has done an excellent job in that regard so I have little doubt that if he were to deliver a last lecture it would be quite compelling just as I know he would want it to be.

It is said that each of us is forgotten within two generations, left to become dust blowing in the wind. It truly matters not whether or not we are remembered in the future, but it is important to be well regarded in the present. If we are careful to consider the needs of those that we encounter even if it only means smiling to make them feel happy, then we are on the right track. It doesn’t take much to find that little bit of heaven right here on earth so long as we simply celebrate ourselves and the people that we encounter along our way. 

Satisfaction

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Last year my high school Class of 1966 had its fiftieth reunion. It was fun seeing people who had dropped out of my life for so long. Since then I’ve tried to stay in touch with many of them via Facebook and the occasional lunches and such that our class leaders schedule. I’ve attended a few funerals as well where I have encountered the most faithful among us. Mostly those sad occasions have been for the parents of my school pals, but now and again we gather for one of our own. I have written blogs about many of those people in an effort to honor their memories and to thank them for the impact they had on my life. It’s particularly sad to see peers losing battles with disease. It is a reminder that all of us are headed in one direction, so we need to be certain that we are getting the most out of life while we have the opportunity.

Last week we received notification that yet another among us is now gone. Harry Butler did not attend our reunion which was rather in keeping with his general personality, but I often thought of him even though I never saw him again after our graduation day. Harry was in the same honors class in which I was. Since the school chose to send us from class to class as a group we were rather constant companions for four years, but I still didn’t know him as well as some of the others. Nonetheless I was fascinated with Harry because he was one of those individuals who insisted on marching to his own drumbeat. There was always something quite interesting about him. I always believed that he would have an exciting life.

It did not take long for all of us to realize that Harry was a gifted writer with an imagination and wit that was intriguing. As someone who longed to be a journalist or a story teller I watched Harry with great interest because I believed that I would learn much from him. It became sadly apparent to me that I would never be able to equal his talent. He had a way with words that set him apart from those of us who labored away at composing. He was an artist who painted stunning pictures with his sentences and paragraphs. He was able to make us all howl with uncontrollable laughter with his essays and newspaper articles. When he created much of the script for our annual Junior/Senior banquet one year the whole class saw how remarkable he truly was.

Harry went to St. Thomas University in Houston, Texas after graduation form high school and majored in English. I lost track of him except through friends who would encounter him from time to time. I learned that he eventually went to Los Angeles to try his hand at screenwriting. I heard rumors that he had actually done well out there and I often found myself scanning film and television credits to see if his name popped up. I really did expect to see him at an awards ceremony one day because I felt that he was that good at his craft. Of course I never saw such a thing but I never really forgot about him. When I traveled to that part of the country I found myself wondering where he lived and how he was doing. I tried to imagine whether or not he had worked with famous people and what scripts he may have created.

I learned from his obituary that he had been sick since January of this year. He had developed an infection of unknown origin that caused an embolism in his brain. This is how he died and it made me so very sad because he possessed a truly remarkable brain. I hoped and prayed that his final days and weeks had not been too painful and that he had been able to read the books that he always enjoyed and listen to the music that enchanted him.

Harry’s father had been a record distributor when we were in high school. Because of that Harry always seemed to have advance knowledge of what new music would be coming our way. He enjoyed regaling us with his insider information and I delighted in being privy to it.. Harry was a character in every sense of the word and his musical insights only added to an air of mystery that always seemed to surround him.

Harry was an exceptional debater, another talent of which I was a tiny bit jealous because Lord knows that I tried so very hard to master that skill. No matter how hard I worked at it I was unable to come close to being as exceptional as he was. Harry was quite simply one of those people who thought on his feet and was able to come up with just the right retorts at just the right moments. He and his debate partner and friend had quite a run as superstars. I often thought that he might become a lawyer but I suspect that such a career was just a bit too tame for him. Harry was out of the ordinary and we all seemed to sense that.

I learned that Harry spent his work life in Los Angeles but returned to Texas after he retired. He chose to settle in Galveston where he loved reading and listening to music. He brought a former ballerina with them and the two of them enjoyed a quiet life near the sea. Even in his final days Harry managed to seem a bit exotic and to have done things on his own terms.

It’s amazing how we never quite forget the people with whom we spend our teenage years. I regret that I never really got to know Harry just a bit better or to tell him how much I admired him. I suspect that I was too much in awe of his remarkable talent in areas in which I so wanted to succeed in my own right. It was as though I saw myself as little more than a hack whenever I compared my abilities with his. Eventually I found the confidence that I had lacked back then and realized that Harry and I had very different styles. I became content to have watched him from afar and to know that maybe just maybe he had found some magic out in Hollywood. At least I certainly hope that is true. I’d like to believe that he lived the kind of life of which he had dreamed so long ago.

Harry’s death signals the passing of another extraordinary member of our class. I feel confident that he is now resting in peace with the angels and cracking them up with his razor sharp sense of humor just as he shared his gift with us so long ago. I remember a time when he proclaimed that the Rolling Stones were the best rock group ever. I argued with him at the time and lost of course, but I always thought of him over the years as that group became my favorite as well. Upon hearing of his death I heard the strains of Satisfaction in my brain and thought of his grin and sarcastic humor that always made us laugh. Thank you, Harry, for some really good times.

The Importance of Being There

largeAs adults we wear many different hats, all of which takes chunks of time to accomplish. We have relationships to nurture with family and friends. We may hold jobs that demand enormous numbers of hours. We want to be healthy, and so we may be dedicated to a routine of exercise and healthy eating. If we are religious we attend church services or read from tracts integral to better understanding our faiths. There are tasks related to our finances, the maintenance of our homes, and personal care and feeding. We push back moments of relaxation even though we know that we need them as much as the other dynamics of living. We are on the go from the moment that we arise in the morning until we fall exhausted into bed at night, sometimes far later than we might have wished. If anything happens to alter our routines we may feel as though we are drowning. An accident, an illness, a death, an unexpected event has the power of throwing us out of kilter, because we already feel pushed and prodded from all sides. Since we are responsible we do our best to satisfy everyone who is asking us to give them our time and talents, but we often feel as though we are slighting everyone and every aspect of our busy days. We find people among us who appear to keep it together so much better than we do which only adds to our feelings of imperfection. We are taught to admire the over achievers among us and to scoff at slackers, but we somehow think that living on a perpetually moving hamster wheel isn’t the best way to spend our days.

I’m as guilty of running at full speed in the rat race as anyone. I tend to be a classic Type A personality. I recall times when my mother or my in-laws would drop by our home unexpectedly throwing my finely honed schedule into a state of chaos. I still remember how anxious I felt and how much I wanted them to leave as quickly as possible so that I might resume my routines. Sadly I can’t remember any of the tasks that I was so frantic to do, but I do have fond memories of those visits and I find myself wishing with all of my heart that my loved ones might come knocking on my door once again. It’s funny how our perspective changes over time, and how we ultimately come to value our relationships over all of the other distractions that once seemed so important.

I copied a quote from someone’s Facebook wall that spoke to me. It goes something like this:

What if we stopped celebrating busy as a measurement of importance? What if instead we celebrate how much time we had spent listening, pondering, meditating, and enjoying time with the most important people in our lives? —-Greg McKeown

It’s funny how Mr. McKeown’s words are little more than common sense, but they seem so profound. Why is it that we all too often choose to ignore what is truly significant in favor of tasks and duties that other people tell us are important? Why are we so often fearful of shedding some of our responsibilities so that we might devote more of our time to making ourselves and the people around us happy? Why aren’t our heroes the people who have learned how to say “No”, or those who allow a bit of dust to accumulate in their homes so that they will be free to have some fun?

As an educator I sometimes encountered parents who were well known and highly regarded in the community because of their many outstanding achievements, but they were literally neglecting their children. Somehow their little ones had become not much more than props that helped in the advancement of their careers. When their kids began to falter and fail they could not understand that their continual absence from the home was a major contributing factor. Instead of altering their own behaviors they often threatened to send the young ones away if they did not work harder to overcome their lazy ways. What those students actually needed was a more stable and loving home life, not lectures on becoming more like their parents. The oft lauded parents had eschewed their duties in favor of devotion to careers, and somehow never learned how to balance their lives to include loving time for their offspring. 

I’ve also met brilliant men and women who chose to view their jobs as an adjunct to the real purpose of their lives, which was to build a nurturing and loving home. These individuals were often viewed as being rather average employees because they gave full efforts during normal work hours, but insisted on going home at reasonable times. For them what happened at the end of the day when family gathered together was the highlight of their efforts. The job was work, but what happened at home defined their essence. We sometimes overlook the enormous accomplishment of being an excellent parent, even to the point of dismissing women who spend a significant portion of their lives staying home to raise the children. We dismissively ask them what they do and judge them to be uninteresting once we realize that they have not had exciting careers outside of their homes.

Perhaps many of the ills that we presently see in society have their origin in the frantic paces that define so many of us. We are so busy running from one event to another that we don’t allow ourselves to do the things that Mr. Mckeown suggests should be backbone of our existence. If we were more willing to listen there would be far less hatred and far fewer broken souls. If we allowed ourselves to ponder the things that we see and hear and read we would be less inclined to fall for propaganda. If we were to make meditation an integral part of our days we might learn to relax and love ourselves just a bit more. If we were to spend more time with the people that matter most to us we would find more contentment, and most assuredly we would build more beautiful relationships and memories.

As I look back over the sixty plus years of my life I recall  hundreds of spectacular moments that make me smile and feel accomplished. Few of them resulted from performing mundane tasks to impress people who would eventually drift out of my life. The best of them center around people, members of my family, my friends, my students and colleagues. In the end it is not how busy we are that makes us important, but how well we spend the time that we have. In being there for ourselves and the people who mean the most to us we find our ultimate success.

An Honorable Day’s Work

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He is one of the most faithful people that I know. I depend on him to arrive each weekend and never once has he let me down. He has come to my home over and over again for twelve years, leaving his mark of excellence as visible proof of his efforts and making me feel quite happy. He is my yard man, Jose, an individual with a work ethic as strong and unwavering as any that I have ever known. I find him to be quite noble and I am awed in observing that his labors begin at the crack of dawn and do not end until the last light of day. When I see him hard at work I think of my two grandfathers who brought a consistent level of pride to their work in spite of the fact that it was often back breaking and punishing. Like them, Jose does not complain nor does he require praise or extra perks to leave his mark on the work that he does even though he is quite deserving of more than just the weekly pay that I leave for him on my door. I find his services to be extraordinary and I see him as an exemplar of what our expectations for a job well done should be. His is an honorable day’s work in every sense of that idea.

As an educator I always encouraged my students to become as well educated as possible and to aim for their dreams rather than settling for less than they might achieve. Nonetheless I wanted them to understand the importance of the sacrifices that their parents made for them. I recall a time when one of my students was embarrassed upon seeing his mother coming to a meeting at the school wearing her McDonald’s uniform. He literally avoided her notice by dashing in the opposite direction. When I confronted him regarding his behavior he expressed anger that she had not disguised her profession by changing clothes before coming. He also noted that whenever teachers ridiculed a student for a lack of ambition they always seemed to note that without some effort people end up working for a fast food restaurant. He did not want to be associated with his mother’s job because it embarrassed him.

It hurt my soul to hear this young man denying the importance of his mom’s hard work, but it also worried me that we teachers sometimes unwittingly expressed our hopes for our students in ways that demeaned their parents. In this particular situation I felt compelled to insist to my student that he and all of us should honor the fact that his mother worked so hard to provide him with a secure home. I reminded him of how difficult it must have been for her to balance all of the demands in her life, and yet she was so concerned about his welfare that she came straight from a long day of work to take an interest in his education. I remarked that her uniform was not something of which he should be ashamed, but rather that it was a true badge of honor that he should embrace. He listened intently to my arguments, but I was never certain that he had actually heard the full import of what I was saying. It was many years later that I learned that he had indeed understood what I was attempting to convey.

I had all but forgotten about this particular incident when my former student returned to the school where he and I had spent so many days together. He was all grown up, a very fine looking young man who was well on his way to earning a college degree. He told me that he had come back to thank me for setting him straight on the value of his mother’s efforts in his behalf. He had learned over the years just how remarkable she was, and he had eventually been able to understand how much he had benefited from her labors. He said that he had eventually seen her as a paragon of wisdom and generosity. Mostly though he was quite proud of her hard work and the care that she had always put into being the best possible employee. She had taught him the importance of showing up on time, ready to work. He had followed in her footsteps and with her guidance had accomplished more than either of them had ever thought possible.

As a society we don’t always give the proper respect to all forms of work. We somehow mentally rank occupations based on level of education rather than on efforts expended, and yet it is truth that we need every skill, trade and degree in order to function well. The young man who keeps the Panera Bread restaurant spotless creates a pleasing environment that provides us with a greater level of comfort as we eat. Ken who smiles and greets us each time we visit Cracker Barrel makes our dining experience more personal and pleasurable. Big John who provides us with an honest deal when we have a plumbing problem instills confidence that we are getting the best possible service. Miguel who climbs on my steep roof to fix a minor leak brings me a sense of security that I will be fine when storms rage overhead, as indeed was recently the case. Mr. Nguyen who makes my home cool with an exceptional new air conditioning system gains my respect and my thanks.

We certainly know that college degrees might sometimes bring a higher level of economic success, but merely having a job that requires one does not guarantee that the quality of work will be even close to someone like Jose who puts so much effort into being the best he might possibly be. We need to remember such things whenever we speak to our young about the expectations that we have for them as they move toward their own futures. What we really want from them is mastery and pride in doing a job well. That is the true secret to living meaningfully.

Jose began manicuring our lawn when we first moved into our home. Since that time he has secured contracts with five other residents on our street because they have observed that he has never let us or anyone else down. We also sent him to do my father-in-law’s yard several years back and that has led to more jobs in the Heights. I know that he keeps busy each evening after he completes his day job and all weekend long. He is a paragon of the work ethic that we should be encouraging all of our young to emulate and honor.

We need to be mindful in our enthusiasm for helping our young men and women to achieve the highest possible educations that we do not inadvertently give them the impression that the hard work of laborers and skilled craftsmen is somehow less than that of professionals. We cannot get along without those who do jobs that we either can’t or don’t want to do. it is up to us to praise any form of hard work because it is the true key to greatness.