“Living is a constant process of deciding what we are going to do.”

–     Jose Ortega y Gasset, Spanish philosopher (1883-1955)

Ah, if only he’d have added the word “next” at the end…

But, Senor Gasset gets it.  (I do so love alliteration…but I digress…)

A client of mine was recently faced with a difficult decision.  I watched as he agonized and contemplated, considered and literally suffered all the “what if” models in his mind.

Ultimately, he decided.  It was a brilliant decision, one that ultimately gives every single person affected by the decision their best “most-likely” outcome.

Since he decided, I’ve seen the usual peace and warmth in him return.  I’ve seen the comfort of knowing that, when faced with a decision point, that he decided what he was going to do.

The outcome matters less now.  The deciding released the energy needed for things to follow their course.

It’s a constant process.  Perhaps our best means of making a difference is to decide.

“Imagination is more important that knowledge. For while knowledge defines all that we currently know and understand, imagination points to all we might yet discover and create.”

–      Albert Einstein

“By believing passionately in something that does not yet exist, we create it.”

–      Nikos Kazantzakis

Imagination. Belief. Possibilities.

Belief is so important to everything that we do. Without it, we will fail, no matter what the endeavor, and no matter how simple the task. Unless we believe, there is no point in imagining and there are danged few possibilities.

The whole topic of imagination brings kids to the front of my mind, as they’re (at least in the case of The Three) my inspiration, and they are the poster children (pun intended) for imagination. Kids see something and either a) believe they can do it, or b) fear the effort or the outcome. As parents, we’re called upon to create an environment where their belief can be broadened and their fears can be set aside. As professionals, aren’t the same requirements in place?

Even more exciting is when we engage our imagination from the foundation of, but in conflict with what we currently know. What if some of what we know could be displaced by what we dream about, what we want to happen, what we believe is possible or what we imagine could be true in a “perfect world.”

The classic “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus” editorial was written more than 115 years ago (September 21, 1897). I think of it whenever the topic of “belief” is brought up, and while our 12-year-old thought she had it figured out a year or so ago, what she found out was that her mother and I still believe in Santa Claus. “But, Dad, you are Santa!” And then, you could sort of see the realization cross her 110-mile-per-hour mind.

Francis Church, the author, said it far better than I can: “Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither men nor children can see… Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world…”

Belief. To paraphrase Church, thank God it lives and it lives forever. Not just in Santa Claus. In possibility. In the power of “What if?” and “Why not?” Belief in the ideal that the best – our best – is yet to come.

That’s how we change reality. That’s how we discover our true potential, as a team or as individual members of a team. That’s how we re-cast the die. That’s how we create opportunities and how we drive growth out of the chaos.

In fact, I imagine and I believe that’s how we make a difference.

“I awoke last night to the sound of thunder.  “How far off?” I sat and wondered.  Started humming a song from 1962.  Ain’t it funny how the night moves, when you just don’t seem to have as much to lose?  Strange how the night moves, with autumn closing in.”

–     Lyric from “Night Moves” by Bob Seger

One night in about 1983, a group of us sat down at Too Tall’s in Kirksville, MO to identify the “12 Greatest Songs of All Time.”  Technically, we didn’t actually sit down with the intention to identify the 12 Greatest Songs of All Time, but since we were sitting there, in a group, and other alternatives all involved leaving Too Tall’s and studying, we decided to identify the aforementioned 12 Greatest Songs.

Turns out there were 23 of them.

So, from time-to-time, I hear one of the 23 Twelve Greatest Songs of All-Time, and “Night Moves” is one of them.  (Editors Note:  No, we didn’t write them down.  Doing so would have required effort, paper and pencil, none of which was in strong supply that night at Too Tall’s…but when we hear them, we know them…)

The opening guitar progression — acoustic and simple — just nails me right between the eyes, even all these years later.  So does the lyric.

When we wake to the sound of thunder, is it an invitation to sit and wonder?  As we advance in years and experience (and this is true for younger DD readers, too) does the “night move” differently than it did before we gleaned the experience and years?

“When we just don’t seem to have as much to lose,” is it easier to make a difference?

“I try.  Maybe I try too hard.”

–     An elderly sailor named Giuseppe, whom I met on an airplane almost two years ago

Many of us have spent some time since Friday morning trying to make some sense of things.  Tragedies like the one at Sandy Hook Elementary School will prompt — and SHOULD prompt — a lot of soul searching and self-examination.  In the broader context, whether it’s a tragedy in an elementary school, a family dispute (I hear they sometimes spike in frequency during the holidays), a job lost or a relationship disrupted — there is much to ponder in these times.

Figuring it all out would be nice, huh?  Heck, figuring some of it out would be nice.

A couple years back, I met an incredible gentleman named Giuseppe on a flight from San Francisco to Denver.  Here is the story of that meeting.  (I provide the link because it’s a much longer version than the DD has come to promise…)

I don’t know if Giuseppe has it figured out.  (He made it safely, by the way…)  But I sensed then, and I wonder now, if trying too hard doesn’t push us farther from achieving understanding — rather than bring us closer to it.

Maybe not trying so hard makes a difference some of the time.

“The thing that these boys need to hear is that you enjoyed watching them and you hope that they had fun.”

–     From a letter written by Mike Matheny to his teams’ parents, when he was coaching kids, not managing the St. Louis Cardinals

We’re in the heart of basketball season with our 4th grade team.  We sent out the minor league rosters for baseball this week, and practice starts early in February, with pitcher and catcher camp kicking off January 5th.

The best thing about coaching kids is seeing the “light bulb go on” for them, seeing the excitement in their faces when they get it right and seeing the tears when they lose, tears that show you how much they care, and how much they want to win.  Another great thing about coaching kids is hearing the laughter and the shouts of excitement while they’re learning the game(s).

The hardest thing about being a parent is sitting back, letting the coaches coach, enjoying watching the kids play and hoping / letting them have fun.

It’s the one thing that makes the biggest difference, though.

Try this website, dads.  Moms, you can try it, too.  It’s made a difference for me and my fellow coaches — and hopefully for the kids, as well.

“The difference that any of us will ultimately make in the world is equivalent to our throwing a stone into the sea.  Science tells us that because the stone is lying on the bottom, the level of the water must have risen, but there is no way to measure it.  We must take it entirely on faith.”

–     Gregg Levoy, to close the introduction of his book, “Callings; Finding and Following an Authentic Life”

And, to bolster our faith, we could choose to throw LOTS of stones, too.

Editor’s Note:  In light of the horrific events in Newtown, CT yesterday, the importance of “raising the water level” every day is even clearer.  Kissing those we love “goodbye” every morning, TELLING them we love them, actually LOVING them, listening to them without interruption, sharing their dreams and fears, and comforting them when hurt comes in — all these little stones that we can throw in to our oceans matter — and make a difference.

So does prayer.

Praying for those who’ve suffered unimaginable loss and trauma spreads their burden on to our collective shoulders.  Praying for the family of the perpetrator eases the horror they are suffering.  Praying that we somehow, some way, make something positive happen as a result of something so despicably horrible that we can’t tell if our tears are of sorrow or anger improves the odds that we might, as ridiculous as the prospect sounds.

Praying that today, we know where to throw our stone — and when — so that the water level rises to a level that makes a difference for someone who needs it.

P. S.   “Callings” was first referred to me by The Nickname Guy, John Leaf.  Click the link to add your nickname story.

“I’m the banking-est man in 22 counties!”

–     Dick Heston (1933-2002), upon executing a one, two or three-cushion shot at the Snooker table

Dad was not prone to hyperbole or bragging.  As proven here, and by previous posts, he wasn’t an English major, either.  I am not sure “banking-est” is, technically, a real word.  So, he was not Hemingway or Thoreau, nor was he Muhammad Ali or Ocho Cinco.

He was, however, an exceptional Snooker player.

Snooker, for those of you who’ve not been exposed to it, is a complex billiard game played on a larger table with smaller pockets and smaller object balls which are shot at, shot in or not shot at or shot in in a very precise order.  (For more lessons on composing run-on sentences, please call for an appointment…)

If 8-ball is like playing your local muni golf course with your buddies for a $2 nassau, Snooker is like playing with Jack Nicklaus and Phil Mickelson for $1 million at Augusta National and Pine Valley — in the same day.  When we build a house, there will be a Snooker table in the basement.  Just sayin’.

Confidence.  That’s the point.  (Yes, there is one!)

If we’re trying something just knowing we’re gonna whiff, why try, unless it’s practice, and there are no stakes?  If we’re trying something and we just know we’re gonna nail it, why wait?  And if we’re trying something and we just know we’re gonna nail it, it means we’ve practiced and we’re ready.

So, why not practice and prepare to the point that we become the “banking-est” players at our “table” — and within the 22 surrounding counties?  Why not build the confidence to make a difference?

“So often at work, people have issues they they can’t resolve because they won’t talk about it.” (sic)

–     Paul English, CTO and Co-Founder of Kayak.com in Bloomberg Business Week

“People make things complicated because they’re afraid to look at the simple issue.”

–     Patrick Lencioni, author of a series of business fables, all of which are worth reading

Ain’t it funny how often the simple issue is elephant-sized, and right there in the room with us, and ain’t it funny how rarely we talk about it?  Um, maybe it’s not funny at all.  Maybe it’s scary, and sad, and dopey and difficult.

So, why don’t we talk about it?  Are we that averse to conflict?  Even constructive conflict?  Is it because we fear the pain of conflict, no matter how constructive it might be?  Does it really hurt more to resolve the conflict than it does to sit beneath the weight of the elephant?  How much of what kind of pain are we willing to sign up for?

The Business Week article offers a fun and simple way to ease the pain (hit the link above) and resolve the conflict, but even if it still hurts, what if we committed to talk, productively, about the elephant-sized issue in our businesses?

Would it make a difference?

“Stuck?  It might not be because you can’t find the right answer.  It’s almost certainly because you’re asking the wrong question.  The more aggressively you redefine the problem, the more likely it is you’re going to solve it.”

–     Seth Godin, from his blog, August 16, 2012

Yes, I am fully aware that I have a business “crush” on Seth Godin.  Yes, I know he’s linked on my website and that I quote him often.  Yes, I am completely comfortable with this capitalistic infatuation of mine.

Because he makes me better.  Because he tempted me to think differently and taught me how to redefine problems.  Because he makes a difference.

And not just for the people who buy his books, either.  Seth Godin makes a difference for everyone who knows or works with someone who’s read his books or his blog, or heard him speak or even seen him quoted in a blog like The Daily Difference.

Years ago, we hired Seth to speak to a room full of community bankers.  The bankers were skeptical.  The banking industry, and I hope I’m not shocking any one here, is a) not very good at marketing and b) even worse at innovation.  The last really new idea the industry embraced was — oh, never mind…

So, we paraded Seth on to the stage, no suit (just sweater and jeans), no podium, no “credit-risk and capital-ratio” power point, just Seth Godin, a stack of “Purple Cow” books and a room full of “we’ve always done it this way” bankers.  Over ten years later, I still run in to bankers who were in that room who credit some portion of their success with Seth’s ability to get their minds around concepts like the one above.

If we devoted one-third of the time we spend seeking perfect answers to asking better questions instead, how much of a difference will THAT make?

Thanks, Seth.

Oh, and buy Seth’s books.  All of them.  Right now.  It’s Christmas time, and you’ll love the gift you give yourself all the way to the bank.

“Leaders can let you fail and yet not let you be a failure.”

     –     General Stanley McChrystal

Nothing is about perfection.  Since, arguably, there’s only been one perfect person that ever walked the earth, it’s an unrealistic and self-defeating goal.

I get a big kick out of people who say they’ll “give 110%.”  (“Um, no you won’t.  That’s impossible, because there is only 100%.  I appreciate your willingness to give more, but I can’t cut off three of my arms, nor can I keep more than two eyes on your kids while you go to the movie.  All we have is 100% to give.  That’s it….but I digress yet again…)  Now, where was I?  Ah, yes!  Perfection.  It’s impossible…

So, why do we spend so much time avoiding failure?

Because failure sucks.

Unless you fail forward.

We’ve all heard the stories; Edison and the light bulb, 3M and the Post-It Note, etc.  We all know the stories of people who tried, again and again, sometimes for years or lifetimes, before failing so far forward that they became an “overnight success.”

Jim Yarger, my friend and the founder of Endece LLC, has spent a career as a chemist seeking a cure for cancer.  So far, he’s failed in that pursuit, seein’s how there still ain’t a cure for cancer.

In a scoreboard world where the sound bite rules, if perfection is your goal, Jim and his company are failures.  Until you understand that they’re on the verge of what may well be a cure for MS.

Not since Jonas Salk will there have been such a success if it turns out to be true.  If it doesn’t, this kind of failing forward gets us closer to one cure, maybe two.  It gets us that much closer to tomorrow being so much better than today.

I realize it’s not perfection, but help me understand how, in any way shape or form, it’s failure?