Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Fake your way to a happier heart
During college, my friend and roommate at UND’s Selke Hall was struggling to adjust to campus life during her freshman year. We tried a variety of things to perk her up, but nothing seemed to work. She was hopelessly homesick.
At one point I was out of ideas and tired of her blue attitude. I blurted out in frustration, “Schultzie, sometimes when you aren’t happy you just have to fake it until you are.”
Happiness can be an elusive pursuit. People seek it in many ways –through spending or saving, drugs or alcohol, working incessantly or not at all. It can be the rational for marriage or divorce, caring for others or focusing on purely selfish pursuits.
Some people who seem to have everything, are perpetually miserable. Others have very little or have experienced repeated, dramatic loss and yet continue to face the world with a smile. What a puzzle.
Last week I received a video about an Australian man with no arms and legs. He can swim, cook, get up and down stairs and live independently. He has every reason to be angry and dejected about his life – to roll in the misery of life without limbs.
But he’s chosen instead a good attitude and strong faith, and that has propelled him out of the wheelchair and into a fully engaged, inspiring life.
Happiness is the subject of volumes of research and books. Some people assume that our temperament is prewired and there’s little we can do about it. Research rebukes this.
In one recent study conducted in England, scientists examined 900 sets of twins and concluded that genetics accounts for about 50 percent of happiness. The remaining 50 percent is related to environmental factors like relationships and careers. In other words, half of our disposition comes from choices that we control.
Research also shows that people’s actions aren’t so much a product of their mood as much as their mood is a product of their actions. The simple act of being nice, cheerful, and optimistic can improve your mood and your happiness.
Writer Gretchen Rubin spent a year experimenting with theories on happiness. Her book, The Happiness Project, is an account of her year. On her blog and website, www.happiness-project.com, she explores factors contributing to happiness and offers tips for people to pursue their own happiness project.
Her 12 personal commandments offer some concepts worth considering. I particularly like her pledge to lighten up, let it go, enjoy the process, and of course, act the way you want to feel.
She emphasizes this again in what she calls Four Splendid Truths of Adulthood. “One of the best ways to make yourself happy is to make other people happy; One of the best ways to make other people happy is to be happy yourself.”
There are many strategies for happiness. For me, the most effective and lasting one begins on my knees. But sometimes, that knee-jerk advice to my friend when we were teenagers is the first step. Treat others kindly, put on a smile and before long it might very well be real.
At one point I was out of ideas and tired of her blue attitude. I blurted out in frustration, “Schultzie, sometimes when you aren’t happy you just have to fake it until you are.”
Happiness can be an elusive pursuit. People seek it in many ways –through spending or saving, drugs or alcohol, working incessantly or not at all. It can be the rational for marriage or divorce, caring for others or focusing on purely selfish pursuits.
Some people who seem to have everything, are perpetually miserable. Others have very little or have experienced repeated, dramatic loss and yet continue to face the world with a smile. What a puzzle.
Last week I received a video about an Australian man with no arms and legs. He can swim, cook, get up and down stairs and live independently. He has every reason to be angry and dejected about his life – to roll in the misery of life without limbs.
But he’s chosen instead a good attitude and strong faith, and that has propelled him out of the wheelchair and into a fully engaged, inspiring life.
Happiness is the subject of volumes of research and books. Some people assume that our temperament is prewired and there’s little we can do about it. Research rebukes this.
In one recent study conducted in England, scientists examined 900 sets of twins and concluded that genetics accounts for about 50 percent of happiness. The remaining 50 percent is related to environmental factors like relationships and careers. In other words, half of our disposition comes from choices that we control.
Research also shows that people’s actions aren’t so much a product of their mood as much as their mood is a product of their actions. The simple act of being nice, cheerful, and optimistic can improve your mood and your happiness.
Writer Gretchen Rubin spent a year experimenting with theories on happiness. Her book, The Happiness Project, is an account of her year. On her blog and website, www.happiness-project.com, she explores factors contributing to happiness and offers tips for people to pursue their own happiness project.
Her 12 personal commandments offer some concepts worth considering. I particularly like her pledge to lighten up, let it go, enjoy the process, and of course, act the way you want to feel.
She emphasizes this again in what she calls Four Splendid Truths of Adulthood. “One of the best ways to make yourself happy is to make other people happy; One of the best ways to make other people happy is to be happy yourself.”
There are many strategies for happiness. For me, the most effective and lasting one begins on my knees. But sometimes, that knee-jerk advice to my friend when we were teenagers is the first step. Treat others kindly, put on a smile and before long it might very well be real.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Amazing to think how many families barely survived 75 years ago trying to make a living off land that rested on top of so much oil http://ping.fm/ujnK1
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Gaining wisdom from our fathers
My dad was born in 1929, the oldest boy of six children growing up on a small farm near Ryder, N.D. He spent his childhood working on those dry, windy prairies trying to help his family squeeze a living off land ravaged by the Great Depression.
Rocks were often the most plentiful crop, and the necessities for daily living were scarce. One of my dad’s earliest memories is of his mother saving the banana for Jell-O so everyone would get a taste of the exotic fruit.
This was the environment that shaped my dad’s (and mom’s) worldview. No wonder he scrapes mold off food, refuses to buy garbage bags when grocery sacks are plentiful and uses the insides of envelopes for notepaper.
With Father’s Day around the corner, I find myself reflecting on some of my dad’s wisdom for living. Perhaps these will sound familiar or trigger other memories of your own dad.
1. Get an education. When my dad completed high school, he wanted to stay and farm. But his dad wouldn’t let him. “Duane, you can always farm. Get your education first. No one can ever take that away from you.” Prudent advice from a man with limited formal schooling. Those words have echoed through eight kids, 31 grandkids and I suspect will keep ringing for generations to come.
2. Go figure. When my brother Dave was a kid my dad tasked him with fixing a broken appliance. “But dad, I don’t know how,” he protested. “Well, figure it out. That’s what I’d have to do,” dad said. So Dave did, and proceeded to learn how to fix or build just about anything. With hard work and an understanding of “basic physics,” few problems or challenges have been too big or risky for my dad to tackle.
3. Politics matters. I can still see remember watching Richard Nixon’s resignation speech on TV when I was about five. My dad realized as a young businessman that decisions in the political world had very real implications for him and his family. Being informed and involved isn’t an option it’s our duty.
4. Be a good steward. Everyone is born with gifts. It’s our responsibility to tend and multiply them. This means getting up, going to work and taking care of yourself, your kids and your community. It means living within your means, making do with what you have (even if it’s moldy food) or doing without. It’s not a complicated philosophy but somehow we have wandered far from it.
5. Play to win. A few years ago I remember scolding my son when he was whining after he lost a game. My dad watched the scene unfold and commented to me later. “Show me a good loser, and I’ll show you a loser.” Winning isn’t everything, but whether in business, sports or relationships, be there to do your best and win.
6. Seek change. People often grow complacent with age. It’s easier to stick to the comforts of the known rather than to see opportunity in something new. My dad has instinctively chosen the latter. His resume includes everything from hat sales and dance schools to cattle and commercial real estate. At 80, he routinely trades stocks online, wears a cell phone on his hip, and is still trying to decide whether Quickbooks or Quicken is the right business software for him.
As a child, my dad’s old-fashioned lessons were rather aggravating. Now, I find myself trying to instill remnants of these values in my own kids, who are growing up in a culture where cleaning up dog poop is considered a big job and bananas with too many spots are dismissed as “rotten.”
Anyone have a field of rocks that need to be picked?
Rocks were often the most plentiful crop, and the necessities for daily living were scarce. One of my dad’s earliest memories is of his mother saving the banana for Jell-O so everyone would get a taste of the exotic fruit.
This was the environment that shaped my dad’s (and mom’s) worldview. No wonder he scrapes mold off food, refuses to buy garbage bags when grocery sacks are plentiful and uses the insides of envelopes for notepaper.
With Father’s Day around the corner, I find myself reflecting on some of my dad’s wisdom for living. Perhaps these will sound familiar or trigger other memories of your own dad.
1. Get an education. When my dad completed high school, he wanted to stay and farm. But his dad wouldn’t let him. “Duane, you can always farm. Get your education first. No one can ever take that away from you.” Prudent advice from a man with limited formal schooling. Those words have echoed through eight kids, 31 grandkids and I suspect will keep ringing for generations to come.
2. Go figure. When my brother Dave was a kid my dad tasked him with fixing a broken appliance. “But dad, I don’t know how,” he protested. “Well, figure it out. That’s what I’d have to do,” dad said. So Dave did, and proceeded to learn how to fix or build just about anything. With hard work and an understanding of “basic physics,” few problems or challenges have been too big or risky for my dad to tackle.
3. Politics matters. I can still see remember watching Richard Nixon’s resignation speech on TV when I was about five. My dad realized as a young businessman that decisions in the political world had very real implications for him and his family. Being informed and involved isn’t an option it’s our duty.
4. Be a good steward. Everyone is born with gifts. It’s our responsibility to tend and multiply them. This means getting up, going to work and taking care of yourself, your kids and your community. It means living within your means, making do with what you have (even if it’s moldy food) or doing without. It’s not a complicated philosophy but somehow we have wandered far from it.
5. Play to win. A few years ago I remember scolding my son when he was whining after he lost a game. My dad watched the scene unfold and commented to me later. “Show me a good loser, and I’ll show you a loser.” Winning isn’t everything, but whether in business, sports or relationships, be there to do your best and win.
6. Seek change. People often grow complacent with age. It’s easier to stick to the comforts of the known rather than to see opportunity in something new. My dad has instinctively chosen the latter. His resume includes everything from hat sales and dance schools to cattle and commercial real estate. At 80, he routinely trades stocks online, wears a cell phone on his hip, and is still trying to decide whether Quickbooks or Quicken is the right business software for him.
As a child, my dad’s old-fashioned lessons were rather aggravating. Now, I find myself trying to instill remnants of these values in my own kids, who are growing up in a culture where cleaning up dog poop is considered a big job and bananas with too many spots are dismissed as “rotten.”
Anyone have a field of rocks that need to be picked?
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Birth of a Saleswoman
Our 8-year-old likes to play Barbies, dress up and dolls like most little girls. But her favorite past time has very little to do with these typical childhood games. Her first passion is door-to-door sales.
When I was a kid, I hated having to knock on doors selling magazine subscriptions or candy bars for my school or club. Unfortunately for our neighbors, our daughter loves this.
The minute she receives her school raffle tickets she heads begins hitting people up with a practiced pitch that emphasizes purchasing not just one ticket but a whole book. She joined Brownies this fall and the highlight of that was selling Girl Scout cookies.
But she doesn’t need an organization to inspire her door-to-door sales. When she was four, she and a friend made cards and scoured the neighborhood selling them. After her first failed sale, she ran home, tears streaming down her face. “She didn’t have to say it so mean mom,” she said. “She could’ve said it nice.”
A few breaths later she had shaken it off and bounced away, determined that someone else would be inspired to purchase her creations.
Elizabeth has initiated countless lemonade stands, the most popular kid marketing scheme. The fact that we live on a cul-de-sac, however, makes for awfully slow sales in the middle of a workday. She’s learned the truth of the mantra, “Location. Location. Location.”
Last summer she set up a spa and offered manicures, pedicures and makeovers to anyone who could afford them. She designed invitations, delivered them to the most likely clients, prepared lemon water for her customers, hung up her sign on front of the porch and waited to get rich. Two customers later she was totally satisfied with her success.
Elizabeth’s entrepreneurial spirit is contagious. This weekend, her brothers set up a plant sale in our front yard. They conned me into buying them each a pack of impatiens, which they then divided and sold at twice my cost to anyone who walked within earshot of our house.
Our friend Mitch stopped by and said he’d take three but didn’t have the money on him. When a few minutes had passed and Mitch hadn’t gone home to grab his cash, Sam interrupted the conversation with an urgent question. “When is Mitch going to pay us? They aren’t fwee ya know.” Sam’s not as smooth as his sister.
Elizabeth’s latest venture is dog baths. She gathered a kit of supplies – a leash, shampoo, a brush, pet treats and doggie breath mints -- and was heading down the street seeking business before I knew what she was doing. She and her pal offered willing four-legged friends the full spa treatment for just two dollars. Quite a deal, I thought.
She marched next door to Bill’s house first. Bill, who owns a sweet and docile black lab, has paid a pretty penny over the years for warm, watery lemonade so I’m sure she expected an easy sale.
When she came back without a dog to wash, I thought that might be the end of her latest business venture. But, she was un-phased. “Who else has a dog?” she said, looking with determination down the block -- her box of doggie spa supplies resting on her hip.
Before I could respond, she was already out of our yard. She had dollar signs in her eyes, which were clearly set on a neighbor three houses away where four dachshunds with bad breath were surely waiting for some doggie pampering.
Perhaps it’s the innocence of her youth, but I hope she is always able to see the opportunity that exists beyond every closed door.
When I was a kid, I hated having to knock on doors selling magazine subscriptions or candy bars for my school or club. Unfortunately for our neighbors, our daughter loves this.
The minute she receives her school raffle tickets she heads begins hitting people up with a practiced pitch that emphasizes purchasing not just one ticket but a whole book. She joined Brownies this fall and the highlight of that was selling Girl Scout cookies.
But she doesn’t need an organization to inspire her door-to-door sales. When she was four, she and a friend made cards and scoured the neighborhood selling them. After her first failed sale, she ran home, tears streaming down her face. “She didn’t have to say it so mean mom,” she said. “She could’ve said it nice.”
A few breaths later she had shaken it off and bounced away, determined that someone else would be inspired to purchase her creations.
Elizabeth has initiated countless lemonade stands, the most popular kid marketing scheme. The fact that we live on a cul-de-sac, however, makes for awfully slow sales in the middle of a workday. She’s learned the truth of the mantra, “Location. Location. Location.”
Last summer she set up a spa and offered manicures, pedicures and makeovers to anyone who could afford them. She designed invitations, delivered them to the most likely clients, prepared lemon water for her customers, hung up her sign on front of the porch and waited to get rich. Two customers later she was totally satisfied with her success.
Elizabeth’s entrepreneurial spirit is contagious. This weekend, her brothers set up a plant sale in our front yard. They conned me into buying them each a pack of impatiens, which they then divided and sold at twice my cost to anyone who walked within earshot of our house.
Our friend Mitch stopped by and said he’d take three but didn’t have the money on him. When a few minutes had passed and Mitch hadn’t gone home to grab his cash, Sam interrupted the conversation with an urgent question. “When is Mitch going to pay us? They aren’t fwee ya know.” Sam’s not as smooth as his sister.
Elizabeth’s latest venture is dog baths. She gathered a kit of supplies – a leash, shampoo, a brush, pet treats and doggie breath mints -- and was heading down the street seeking business before I knew what she was doing. She and her pal offered willing four-legged friends the full spa treatment for just two dollars. Quite a deal, I thought.
She marched next door to Bill’s house first. Bill, who owns a sweet and docile black lab, has paid a pretty penny over the years for warm, watery lemonade so I’m sure she expected an easy sale.
When she came back without a dog to wash, I thought that might be the end of her latest business venture. But, she was un-phased. “Who else has a dog?” she said, looking with determination down the block -- her box of doggie spa supplies resting on her hip.
Before I could respond, she was already out of our yard. She had dollar signs in her eyes, which were clearly set on a neighbor three houses away where four dachshunds with bad breath were surely waiting for some doggie pampering.
Perhaps it’s the innocence of her youth, but I hope she is always able to see the opportunity that exists beyond every closed door.
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