Discovering What We Want

On Saturday mornings we ride bikes. This was one of the unspoken rules of a group of grown men that for a brief time became known as the “Beechers.” There were many rules in this group of neighbors, most of whom where in their early fifties. There were macho rules like don’t ever quit or say you are tired. There were drafting rules that dictated that every rider would spend some time at the front allowing the other riders to draft off of them. There were even rules that dictated how far we would ride before we stopped for breakfast. Each of these rules was never voted upon, or decided, as this group had no real leader. This was just a group of guys that decided together that on Saturday mornings we ride bikes.

Over the years the “members” of the Beechers changed from time to time. We added to our number as more of the men in the neighborhood decided to ride with us. There was even a time, although very brief, when some of the neighborhood women would join our Saturday morning rides. These rides would consist of 25 to 35 mile treks from our Northside neighborhood, to points in the suburbs. Where we went depended upon the distance we planned to travel that day, which was one of the few things that was decided in advance. The most consistent riders among the Beechers were Larry and Dan. For a while the group included John, Mark, Bob, Chip, Jim, and me. I was the youngest in the group.

During our rides we rode hard and we talked. We talked about politics, religion, sex, the military, and life. Many of these topics led to heated discussions, and at times tempers would flare. However, the good thing about doing this while riding a bike is that even if you are angry, you are still perhaps 15 miles from home so you just might as well get over it. I learned a lot during those rides, but mostly I learned about the people that I called my neighbors and later began to call them my friends. The friendships that evolved from those rides have endured for nearly 20 years.

Our riding days together preceeded Lance Armstrong’s victories in the Tour de France. We also began riding together in the years before the rising popularity of all-terrain or mountain bikes. We rode racing bikes. These bikes were light weight, had small tires, and could easily reach speeds of 45 miles an hour going down hills. We all knew this for a fact as each of us equipped our bikes with speedometers, and odometers to track our rides. It was not uncommon at the end of a ride that someone would check their top speed and let us know that at one point we had been traveling at 47 miles per hour. It was this speed that made these rides dangerous. Many of us have watched in horror on television as riders fall off of their bikes. When watching a race we see how quickly an accident can happen and television cameras show us the damage to both the bike and the rider. Each of us that rode together knows first hand the risks of taking long rides through the city on a racing bike. Almost to a man we each suffered accidents of varying severity. Bruised ribs, broken legs, broken collar bones, or concussions are badges we all wear.

Two days ago Dan had an accident on his bike. His accident is by far the most severe that any of us have suffered. Dan shattered his hip, broke his collar bone, broke several ribs, and damaged his lung. Fortunately, as has been our practice, Dan was wearing his helmet and suffered no damage to his head. Dan is 62 years old.

I visited Dan in the Trauma unit yesterday. He was pretty banged up. After talking about the events surrounding his accident, we started one of those bicycle conversations. We began talking about what people want. Dan owns a business. He is married to a lovely woman that is an award winning artist and retired teacher. He has two attractive and well educated adult daughters, and two grandchildren. He has a beautiful home, and two late model automobiles. By most measures Dan is successful. But at that moment, there in the trauma unit, I realized that Dan would have easily traded places with me as I stood while he was lying there with his leg in traction. At the same time, I believe that had I been the one lying there in traction, Dan would also have gladly traded places with me. Life can be fickle among friends.

More than 15 years ago while standing in the alley street behind our homes Dan taught me what people want. He told me then that people want to be understood, accepted, valued, and part of a trusting relationship. I have shared Dan’s philosophy with many people since that day. I even have friends that will call me on the telephone to remind them about Dan’s philosophy. For years I have tried to find a way to make Dan’s philosophy more easily transferable to others. I often wrote down the letters U, A, V, and T, trying to find a way to make those letters make sense. On the eve of Dan’s accident at 1:30 in the morning I finally realized what was missing. The answer is love. The thing that Dan’s philosophy did not include was that people want to be loved.

As Dan, his wife Holly, and I talked there in the Trauma unit we agreed that when we add the word “loved” to Dan’s philosophy, we get five letters that help us to understand and grasp what we really want. We have been programmed by marketers of all kinds to think that we want wealth, or power, or material possessions. We are constantly bombarded by messages that tell us to “trust me”, “watch me”, “listen to me”, “and be like me.” All of these messages have taken away our ability to focus in the moment.

In the moment, we can see clearly. In the moment, we can understand what we really want. Talking to Dan in the Trauma unit we experienced one of those “in the moment” times. Dan made the message so very clear to me. He said “Harvey, we can help people see what is inside the vault”. What is inside is not wealth. The vault does not contain material goods. The vault does not demand that you look like me, or listen to me. But inside the vault there is power that is immeasurable.

Take a look inside the vault and you can learn the secret to what people really want. The secret is what you want too. Inside you will learn this: People want to be Valued, Accepted, Understood, Loved, and part of a Trusting relationship. That is the simple secret of what is inside the vault.

My friend Dan has a long road to recovery. I know that he is going to do well. I know this because Dan already understands what was inside the vault. He lives his life with the clarity of being in the moment. Dan’s message, this message, is one that everyone should hear. In the coming days I will begin to outline how we can live our lives in a way that brings us what we want.

Running Through Our Fears

I started running when I was a child growing up in Philadelphia. When I started I did not so much run for fitness but rather as part of the games I played when I walked to or from school. The games consisted of trying to see how far away I could get from a certain point in so many seconds. I would pretend that a bomb was going to explode at a point. My objective was to be so many feet or yards away in order to be safe. These games were like spy games that I played when I was around twelve years old.

I took up running as a part of my fitness routine later when I was seventeen. At that time I ran as a way to relax and escape the pressures of school and work. I would run anywhere from three to five miles each day. Quite a few years have gone by since then, and I do still run on occasion as a part of my fitness routine. However, most of my aerobic exercise these days consists of riding a stationary bike, taking long walks, or walking two to three miles on a treadmill. Running long distance no longer appeals to me physically as the recovery time for my body has gotten longer and longer over the years. Still, I run on occasion because I still like the feeling of gliding through the air swiftly moving from place to place under my own power. I also like the rhythm. If you have ever run or had the chance to listen to the footsteps of a runner you know that there is a consistent rhythm to running. When you run for distance you fall into a cadence. This is a soothing sound that creates a rhythm as each foot strikes the ground. Runners use this cadence as a feedback system that helps them to know that they are on whatever pace they have set. After running for a number of years experienced runners can hear that cadence in their heads and can differentiate between the cadence of a seven minute mile and a nine minute mile. Even though I now run infrequently, I can still hear the pace in my head.

When I began running all those years ago I always considered it a solitary activity. Because running is something you can do with very little advance planning, most of my running time was through city streets or sometimes in a park when there was one nearby. I never imagined then that someday I might have the chance to run with my own children. Yet, yesterday I had just such an opportunity.

I committed to run daily with my sons as part of helping them to prepare for the soccer season. We had been talking about the need to become fit in order to effectively play most sports. In soccer in particular, I had noticed that my boys would tire in the late portions of their games. While they seemed no more tired than the other children, it occurred to me that my boys were finally at an age when we could begin to do some conditioning work. So, we committed to run a mile each day.

I realized yesterday that children don’t run distance anymore. In fact there is not much in the way of physical fitness required of young children in our schools. The result is that before yesterday only one of my sons had ever actually run a mile. And even for that son, he ran his first mile only the day before. Additionally, I understood that for my son Alex, the thought of running a mile was really not on his personal radar screen. Still, like most young boys he wanted to keep pace with his brother and if for no other reason he wanted to give it a try.

My children are only ten and so we did not want to run in the city streets. At the same time, I did not want to turn this outing into a production that would require us to go to a formal track to run laps. So we decided that we would go to Heinz Field, home of the Pittsburgh Steelers, and run around the circumference of the building. Our plan was to run around the building as many times as was necessary to complete our mile. We knew that this would afford us a continuous stretch of sidewalk on which we could run safely. It also did not hurt that the field is only a few blocks from our home and we could easily walk there and back.

When we arrived at the field we began our run. Like most children the boys took off at a rapid pace. Max was leading the way and Alex was right behind him. Given the forty years difference in our ages, I knew that I could not think about joining them. Also, since we had not charted out the distance in advance, at the beginning I had no idea how many times around the stadium would be required. I knew that I needed to go the distance and so I set out at a very easy pace, probably close to a ten or twelve minute mile.

Before we made one complete revolution around the stadium both of the boys had slowed their pace. But, I noticed that Alex had slowed considerably. While he was still running in front of me (an agreement we made in advance that the boys must stay in front of me), I could tell that he was laboring. First Max shouted encouragement to him and Alex continued to run. Then he told us that he had a pain in his side which runners know is that familiar “stitch” you get early in a run. Max again shouted encouragement and told him that the pain would only last for a little while then it would go away. I just watched and paid close attention to Alex to make sure he was in no real danger. At one level I was dealing with the demons in my own head telling me that I could not run the distance, and reminding me of my age compared to my sons. On a whole other level I could feel the competitive spirit in me telling me that I could not let my boys down and that I had to go the distance.

As I continued to run my mind went back to the days of my youth. I reminded myself of the pace that I could hear in my head. I settled in by just keeping the pace and continuing to move myself forward. By this time I was running side by side with Alex with Max continuing to run just a bit ahead of us. As we ran together I was talking to Alex and checking to see that he was alright. I suggested to him that if the pain became too great that he could stop running and walk the rest of the way. He declined, and I could see in his face that he wanted to succeed at this. Realizing his desire to succeed, I began to talk to Alex about pace. I told him that we had to just keep our pace and go one step at a time.

After we had completed our first time around the stadium I had a clear sense of what was now required to reach our goal. As it turns out the distance around the stadium is equal to nearly one half mile. I told Alex about this and we continued running together step for step and I offered encouragement to him as much as myself letting him know just how many more turns we had to go. We talked about breathing evenly and just making sure that he ran no faster than me. I pointed out that we were going to make it as long as we kept our pace the same.

When we rounded the final stretch of our run with about a quarter mile to go, I noticed that Max made a start at running faster. Looking back and seeing that Alex and I were keeping the same pace he quickly gave up on his idea of a sprint to the finish. When Alex and I reached the final turn and completed our mile he looked at me with a proud sense of accomplishment. We gave each other high fives, and acknowledged that we had made it. We both walked over to Max and he too gave us a high five as we celebrated that moment.

When we started out on our run we did not know how many laps around the stadium were required. We faced an unknown that led to fear and doubt about our ability. We became aware that reaching our goal was causing us considerable pain. When we are in uncharted waters we don’t know if we can reach our goal. Sometimes we can find ourselves alone as we take each step or we realize that the pain and sacrifice may be too great. Or maybe we realize that we initially set out at a pace that we can no longer maintain. This is the time when we experience failure and defeat. This is the time when we need to pull up along side a friend or a coach or a mentor. We need to begin to pace ourselves so that we can reach our goals. We need to experience the reaffirming assurances of someone that cares about our success who not only tells us that we can make it, but takes every step along the way with us and experiences the same pain.

When we manage to face our unknown fears and conquer our pain we realize that in order to reach our goals we just need to take one step at a time. We have to learn to hear the rhythm of our steps. Each step moves us closer to our goals. When we give in to pain or fear we regret those failures. But, when we work through the pain, and keep pace to the goal, we experience an exhilaration that is unimaginable. The joy and sense of accomplishment on Alex’s face is the image that I will keep in my head forever as I strive for difficult goals. It is that look that reminds me that we can face our fears, and we can reach our goals in life if we just go one step at a time.

Success One Step at a Time

Yesterday we experienced another one of those beautiful days that often come at the end of summer in Pittsburgh. With moderate temperatures and low humidity, September days are days when you still want to go outside. With the children adjusting to only their second week of school, we are finding that every evening we spend time outdoors just playing in front of the house. Or, to be more specific I find myself outside reading while the children are playing in front of the house. Neighborhood children as young as one year old are outside with their parents and we all seem to just congregate as the children play. Given the urban setting of our home, most of the games are played in the street with cars parked on either side. The children routinely yell out “car” as a vehicle comes down the street. For the most part our one-way street does not get a great deal of traffic, and most of the cars coming down the street are usually sight seeing taking a look at the Victorian homes and interesting architecture.

It seems that somehow yesterday my sons finished their homework a bit earlier than their neighborhood friends. This meant that for at least a few minutes my sons would be playing together without the company of their friends. Even though my children are twins, at their current age they are reluctant to play outside with just themselves. Rather, they wait for the company of other children at or near their age so that they can engage in one or another of the “made up” games that they play every day. While the boys were waiting for their friends to show up my son Max walked over to a small patch of grass that borders the old church on the corner of our street. This patch of grass that we call the “church yard” has been the closest play area for my children and all of the other children in our neighborhood since the boys were old enough to walk. It has been the site of petting zoos and once even hosted an elephant providing rides for children for just one dollar. My own sons have learned to bat (resulting in one broken stained glass window), pitch, throw a football, and even race on this patch of grass which is less than 20 yards long and 20 feet wide. But grass is still grass no matter how wide or long and children will always find a game that they can play at the church yard.

Max walked to one end of the grass and started in an easy jog to run to the opposite end. Reaching the opposite end he turned around and then jogged back to the starting point. I watched as he continued this back and forth all alone on the grass over and over again. Curious, I finally walked over to the grass to ask Max what he was doing. He said that he was “running a mile.” I asked him how given the small size of the area on which he was running he would know when he had reached his goal? He then lifted up his shirt and there clipped to his belt was a pedometer that had been recently given to him as a gift from my brother. I did not want to burst his bubble by telling him that given the size of the space on which he was running he would likely need to run back and forth over 80 times to reach his goal. Rather, I just watched as he frequently checked his pedometer and continued to run back and forth.

I continued to watch Max running and I was pleasantly surprised by his persistence. He continued to run until finally his pedometer displayed a total distance of one mile. I did not count how many times he actually had to run back and forth, and I also recognize that generally pedometers are only “fair estimates” of total distance traveled. I personally wear a pedometer most days with a goal of walking 10,000 steps. Most days I meet or exceed my goal, but here again the accuracy of the pedometer is really not the point. The point for me is to have a goal that is relative to the last time I set out to achieve it. Whether my 10,000 steps is really 8,000 steps or is actually 12,000 steps is not the point. For me the point is to have a measurable goal that I can strive to achieve every day.

This morning I asked Max if he wanted to run after school. He wondered how far we would run and I said well I thought I would run with you to accomplish your one mile per day goal. I also asked Alex if he wanted to join us. They both wanted to know where we would run. I suggested that we could run around our neighborhood until we achieved one mile. I was amused when they both said to me that running a mile around the neighborhood seemed pretty far. Then I pointed out to them that it was no farther than Max had run the day before when he went back and forth in the church yard. While both of the boys agreed to give it a try I know for sure that they are both skeptical.

As I have thought about watching Max yesterday and then comparing it to his reaction this morning, I realized that when setting goals the increment really matters. Max’s goal yesterday was to run one mile. But, even though he did not plan it this way he had broken down the goal into very small pieces. He was only running about twenty yards at a time. Additionally, each time he turned around, the next little piece of the goal was clearly in sight. When I suggested today that we run a mile around our neighborhood the hesitation wasn’t so much the distance, rather it was the fact that in running around the neighborhood the goal would not be so plainly in sight. Which streets were we going to run around? Would we run out for half a mile then run back over the same course? Where we just going to run around the block four or five times? These questions and perhaps even some that would occur to a ten year old boy that don’t occur to me I am sure had a lot to do with their reaction.

All of us set goals. Sometimes the goals are those BHAGs (Big, Hairy, Audacious, Goals) that are really tough to achieve. Sometimes they are the common kinds of goals like I am going to quit smoking, or I am going to lose weight, or I am going to exercise daily. While many of us have set such goals, we often fail. We start out by not smoking at all for a few days then we have just one cigarette, and then another and then we forget about the goal all together. We begin our new diet by cutting out sweets, or bread, or something else that we regularly eat that we have now decided we will do no more. We begin an exercise program by buying new workout clothes, new sneakers, and even joining a gym. Then a month or so later we have a gym membership that is unused, new sneakers that we are now wearing on Saturday afternoon, and exercise shorts that we decide to start sleeping in at night. I think we need to take a look at the simple and innocent way that Max approached his goal. I believe that he has reminded me of how we can all achieve success.

When you want to achieve a goal you must remember to break that down into very small and manageable pieces. The goal should have many small successes built in. The achievement of your goal must also remain clearly in sight. Finally, always remember to avail yourself of some simple measuring device.

You might think that it is pretty boring running back and forth 80 plus times to run a mile. This is not the way that we normally think. For most of us if we wanted to run a mile we might set out on a quarter mile track or decide to run eight city blocks. Perhaps on your first time out you would reach the goal. But you see Max is only ten years old. He is not allowed to go to a track and he isn’t allowed to run in the streets. So Max had to improvise and set a small goal right in his own literal “church yard.” He decided how he would measure his progress, and he started out slowly. Max reached his goal because he did not know much about how many times he would have to run back and forth. He did not measure the distance of the church yard. He did not set an allotted time. No, the key to Max’s success was that the increments were small, the feedback measurement was continuous, and he knew that in the end he was under the watchful eye of his constant coach.

If you have a goal that you want to achieve then I urge you to use Max’s method. Start slow, establish small success benchmarks, and measure progress often. Finally, if you don’t have your own coach to cheer you on, then contact me. I love to see people celebrate the achievement of their goals.

What Is Your Why?

Have you ever found yourself in one of those conversations with a four year old when they respond to everything you say with “why?” This is a frustration that many of us have experienced. The child comes to you with a question. You provide the best answer you can come up with and then the child just says “Why?” You respond with a fuller explanation hoping to make your answer make sense for the child and then once again you get “why?” Again you try to clarify your answer and you get still once again “why?” This chain only ends when either you give up in frustration or the child becomes interested in the toy you offer up as a distraction.

Children ask us why because they want to have a better understanding of the world around them. When children are young they ask lots of questions. I am told that children stop asking us questions when they stop believing that we have the answers. Today that can happen as early as ten or twelve years old. In many ways though we too function like twelve year old children. We stopped asking questions long ago. Perhaps it is because we think we now have all of the answers. Or maybe we are sometimes too embarrassed to ask the question because we don’t want the world to know that there is something we do not know. Or maybe, we just remember back to the days when we too were four years old and some adult got frustrated with our unending round of asking “why?”

I recently read again the famous quote by Friedrich Nietzsche “He who has a why can endure any how.” This came up once again today in a conversation with a friend and colleague when we were talking about the day to day pressures of work. The pace of our days has become so hectic that we spend much of our time in reaction mode. The current buzz word in the business world is “I work 100 hour weeks.” I have no idea as to what happened to the old badge of the workaholic who worked 80 hours each week. I don’t put in 100 hour weeks and so it is difficult for me to imagine what that must be like. However, just a simple calculation tells me that you would have to work over 14 hours each day, every day in order to work a 100 hour week. Since most of us are not the CEOs, this also means that we need to drive ourselves to and from work each day so let’s factor in just an hour of your time for your daily commute. Also, assuming that you have a really bad diet (exclusively fast food) you would still need about one and a half hours each day to pick up and eat your food (I recognize that some of us work while we eat). As for personal hygiene tasks, let’s give that a total of an hour each day (potty breaks included given how badly you would be eating). That would leave you about six hours to sleep every day. So now the question I would ask is “Why?”

I guess that if you are the CEO of a large company your “why” is to grow the business or to create shareholder value. Maybe you work in Silicon Valley and you are creating the next groundbreaking technology that will turn your stock options into a billion dollars. But you are more than likely just an average person that is somehow caught up in the sense of importance and status you get from saying “I work 80, 90, or 100 hours a week.” Whatever need is being fulfilled by this super human effort, it is time to stop and ask “why?”

Now the truth is that very few people actually work 100 hours a week. In fact, there are few of us that actually work for 60 hours each week, and I will save for another day my discussion of how few of us really do put in the 40 hours for which we receive our pay. But, no matter how many hours you actually work, have you spent any time lately making sure of your “why?” Whether you work for yourself, or work for a small company, or work for a large corporation, sometimes work can be hard. If you are self-employed you deal with cash flow problems and worry about how you will generate the next deal. If you are work for a company you worry about getting the work done that has been heaped upon you. Some of us are working with psychopaths that are making our lives miserable. And then there are those of us that are just working at jobs that are not stimulating or challenging. No matter what situation you find yourself in today, you need to take the time to really understand your “why.”

In order to answer the question we need to go beyond the immediate. We need to not just stop at the simple answers like how much money we need, or we have bills to pay, or even because we can’t afford to lose our job. I love to quote the old saying “what profits a man to gain the world, yet lose his soul?” You need a bigger “Why?” Your “why” must make a difference in your life or in the lives of those you love. Your “why” must be filled with passion. Why did a person like Martin Luther King risk his life? It was because he had a dream. His dream was his “why.” Why does a fireman run into a burning building? It is because their “why” is to save just one life if possible. Why does a mother shield her child with her own body when danger strikes? It is because her “why” is that she values the life of her child more than her own. These are the kinds of “why” that matter. These are the kinds of “why” that makes the risk, or the pain or the challenge make sense. These kinds of “why” don’t translate to money, or pride, or status. These are the kinds of “why” that makes a difference in the world. These are the kind of “why” based on established values and character.

Why did you get up this morning? Why are you working so hard? Why didn’t you have time for dinner with your family? Why did you spend one-on-one time with your child? Why did you not stop to say I love you? Keep asking this question. Take the time to figure out why. We all need a “why” so that we can endure our “how.” Taking the time to identify your “why” will keep you on the path you have chosen for your life. Knowing your “why” makes the how worth every step of the journey. Commit your “why” to writing.

There is so much power in the answer to that very simple question. I guess that we all need to wonder why?

Where Are You Now?

As I was making reservations for a business trip this week I realized that I needed to fly on Sunday in order to be at the appointed destination for a Monday morning meeting.  This is not at all unusual as I frequently will travel the day before a meeting or appointment.  This reduces my anxiety over delays, and assures that I will get a good night’s sleep and be productive during my appointment.  When making the reservations I noticed that Sunday was September 11.  I hesitated for a moment asking myself if I really wanted to fly on this date.  

As things turned out for me my trip ultimately was cancelled and I have no need to fly on September 11.  Still, just the thought of flying on that date took me back to the tragedy of 9/11/01.  Like most Americans I can remember vividly where I was when the first plane hit the World Trade Center tower.  As the morning wore on and yet another plane hit the tower, I began to also hear the news of a plane in Pennsylvania that was possibly hijacked about an hour from my home in Pittsburgh.  

On 9/11/01 I was the Chief Operating Officer of the Pittsburgh Housing Authority.  My immediate superior, as well as the majority of our executive staff were in Washington, D.C. that morning attending a meeting at HUD, near the Pentagon which also became the site of another plane crash.  In the midst of the shock and devastation of the people around me during those critical moments, I suddenly realized that I was responsible for an agency of 500 employees, and that we managed housing for about 5,000 people in Pittsburgh.  Given the information available, I needed to make a number of decisions that were likely to be second guessed later, but were yet important to make immediately.

I began the decision making process by contacting each of my available co-workers.  This included our Operations Director, HR Manager, and Police Chief.  We decided that we needed to assure the security and safety of our residential communities and Hi-rise buildings which housed the elderly and disabled.  At the same time we needed to act with compassion towards our employees who were concerned about children in school, and their own families.  We decided that all employees that were non-essential to the security of our communities could leave work immediately to look after their families.  Essential personnel and a small group of volunteers agreed to continue working until we knew for certain that our communities were safe and secure.  As I looked out the windows of our offices I could see the motion and panic of people below emptying out of nearby office buildings and heading for home.  I knew that we were facing a long day when many of us might not get to go home for a while.  

As I now look back on that day I recognize that Pittsburgh escaped tragedy.  We did not experience problems in our communities, and our buildings were spared from disaster.  The lessons of that day however caused our own agency and many others to begin to prepare plans for future disasters.  We had a heightened focus on the fact that low probability incidents of drastic proportion do still happen every day.  We all spent the next several days experiencing a swelling sense of nationalism, and everyone in the country seemed to pull together.  

Just four years later America finds itself facing yet another disaster.  Once again America finds itself questioning whether or not we were prepared for the flood waters of Hurricane Katrina.  There is massive finger pointing and political posturing to heap blame for everything from the speed of the relief response, to the lack of availability of $2,000 debit cards for the purchase of essentials.  Perhaps as many as half a million people are suffering today because of the hurricane.  All across the country we are all affected by rising gasoline prices, and threats of fuel prices for heating rising as much as seventy percent.  

We have very short memories in this country.  We forget the commitments we make when we are under duress.  We utter prayers at moments of disaster or despair and we make promises to our God in exchange for mercy.  We pull close to loved ones; we cherish the small things in life, and we all understand that we are in many ways spared just by grace.  All of this fades as we move further in time from the latest disaster, or when we realize that the latest event did not really affect our own lives.  

As I write this I sit comfortably in my office in my home.  I will spend my day developing business relationships, scheduling appointments and travel for upcoming events, and waiting for my children to return from school to begin the weekend.  As I write this there are families that are living in shelters with no hope of returning to their homes.  There are perhaps thousands of children that have no school to attend for whom the weekend is just another day in an impoverished life.  And there are thousands more that have lost jobs, careers, and businesses.  

As you take the time to read this I would ask you to think about a question.  Where are you now?  You are probably reading this in your office.  This of course means that you have a job today.  If you are reading this in your home, you have electricity and even a computer.  Where were you four years ago during 9/11?  What changes did you vow to make in your life on that day?  Have you kept your promises?  Did you realize on 9/11 how important your family is to you?  Do you live today like that is still true?  As you watched families walking through flooded streets in Louisiana did you stop to acknowledge that you were safe and dry?  

In the past four years my life has continued to change dramatically.  I am no longer the COO of that agency I managed in 2001.  I work now as a consultant helping people and organizations understand the importance of authenticity, values and character.  I teach clients about valuing people and serving those that they lead.  I can’t say that all of this happened because of 9/11.  But I know that the events of that day changed me in a way.  I was reminded recently of those changes as I planned a simple business trip that was later cancelled.  Now I have another chance to sit back and reassess my own priorities.  I have the time once again to make sure that I am living my values.  And most importantly, I will say a prayer of thanks that once again disaster has struck and yet those that I love are safe and secure.  It is my sincere hope that as you read this you too will take stock with where you are now and where you have been in these past four years.