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Authors: Peter L. Hirsch,Robert Shemin

BOOK: Living the Significant Life
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The Victim Dictum

As John Wooden, another legendary coach and master of successful living, put it, “Things turn out best for the people who make the best of how things turn out.”

That’s all positive thinking is: having a positive attitude.

TIPS FROM PETER

You can’t let others determine your attitude. Before I realized this principle, I admit that I was one of the world’s biggest victims. Even little things could incite me to anger or despair.

I remember driving down the parkway one day when a car from three lanes over on the left swerved across all the traffic and cut me off to exit. For hours after, I was railing and screaming about this incident and telling everybody who would listen (even people who wouldn’t listen) about this jerk who had cut me off. Naturally, I got very little accomplished that day. Of course, that man, if he ever realized anything was wrong at all, probably forgot about me as soon as he exited the parkway. Why on earth should I have let that character affect my attitude for the whole day?

I have learned the strength and the power in three words: let it go. Now I realize that no one can harm me, bother me, or perturb me unless I accept the hurt. No one can inconvenience you unless you yourself say that you were inconvenienced. Eleanor Roosevelt said it this way: “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

All of the hurt, anger, disappointment, frustration, and other negative thoughts and feelings we blame on other people are completely not the truth. They all exist only in our own minds. We make them up. It’s a matter of
our
attitude.

Motivational teacher and author Zig Ziglar tells a story about being in the Kansas City airport, tired, beat, and anxious to get home, when he learned his flight had been canceled.

“Fantastic!” Ziglar exclaimed.

The harried ticket agent looked as though Zig were the strangest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and she said, “Sir, I just told you your plane was canceled, and you replied ‘Fantastic.’ Why is that so fantastic?”

“Well,” Ziglar said, “there must be a good reason to cancel the flight. It could be bad weather or a mechanical problem, and either way I think it’s great that you and your people are looking out for my welfare and keeping me safe.”

“I’m afraid the next flight I can get you on won’t be for a number of hours,” the agent said.

“Fantastic!” Ziglar replied.

Again, the incredulous agent asked, “And why is
that
fantastic?”

“Well, this is the first time I’ve ever been in this nice new airport. It’s cold and wintry outside but warm and comfortable in here. There’s a great-looking coffee shop over there, and I’ve got a lot of reading and writing to catch up on, so I’ll just take advantage of the free office and get all my work done.”

“Fantastic!” the ticket agent said with a smile.

“You bet!” Ziglar smiled back and went off to work in his free office with the convenient catering service.

Of course, Zig could have huffed and puffed, gotten all bent out of shape, and tried to bend everybody else, too, but the plane still wouldn’t have left for hours. Either way, the
facts
of the trip would not have changed, but through his attitude the
experience
of the trip was totally transformed.

Positive attitudes lead to positive results. Remember, in both your personal life and your work life, before people buy anything you’re offering, they buy your attitude—no matter what you’re selling.

Reinventing the Past

We choose our thoughts, and our thoughts determine our attitudes. Once again, your thoughts and feelings influence the results you experience in your life much more than the other way around. As Anthony Robbins once said: “It is choice, not chance, that determines our destiny.”

One of the most common attitude traps we all seem to fall into is keeping the past alive, and one important truth about the past is that it’s always water under the bridge.

Wherever you are, be there! Are you old enough to remember the classic slogan of the 1960s, “Be here now”? Both of these statements are saying the same thing.

Being present in the present is the only way to relate to the world as it is. So much of the time we exist enclosed in a world composed of either our past opinions and judgments of people and circumstances or our fears about the future. Over time, these thoughts form the attitudes that become our habits of thought, or habitudes.

Our habitudes are such an important force in our lives because of the nature of the unconscious mind. The unconscious is an additive mechanism: it adds up all your experiences, thoughts, and feelings and decides which ones will be prevalent by keeping score. If you keep going over and over a negative experience in your conscious mind—as Peter did with that guy who cut him off on the parkway—each time you think it over, your mind takes it in as though it just happened again. That’s what we mean by a habitude: a thought is repeated so much that it becomes an unconscious habit.

With such habitudes at work directing your imaginative energies, you can see how easy it is to stay in a rut you don’t really want. To get out of these ruts, you have to break the hold the habitudes have on your mind, and you do that in exactly the same way you developed new beliefs and conquered old fears. Some experts call this
reprogramming
, and that’s precisely what it is: a disciplined and focused effort to build a new, positive program—a positive habit.

We call it
reinventing the past.
You actually can re-create your own past by redefining events that have already occurred, giving them a new and more powerful meaning.

What would be different if Peter had defined the guy who cut him off as being a worried friend, husband, or parent rushing to the hospital, instead of an inconsiderate jerk out causing danger with his carelessness?

In his superb book,
The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People
, Stephen Covey, speaking about paradigm shifts, tells one of the most powerfully moving stories you will ever hear or read.

Covey was sitting on a New York subway one Sunday morning when a man entered with his two kids. The children were as wild as could be, tearing up and down the subway car, grabbing people’s newspapers, and disturbing everybody. They were behaving like brats, and all the while, their father just sat there staring at the floor, seemingly oblivious to his children’s rude and destructive behavior.

Finally, Covey could take it no longer, so he remarked to the man that his kids were a mess and he ought to be more responsible.

The guy looked up at him with vacant, sad eyes and apologized. Then he told Covey that they had just come from the hospital where his wife—the kids’ mother—just died. He said he supposed that the children didn’t know how to deal with that, so they were going a bit nuts, because they didn’t know what else to do. Again, he said, he was sorry.

Wham!

In an instant, Covey completely changed his mind—shifted his opinion and judgment of what was happening right in front of him—180 degrees.

It is sad that we often need such dramatic and even heartbreaking information to shift how we’re thinking about things. There is powerful truth in the Native American wisdom “Walk a mile in the other man’s moccasins before you pass judgment on him.”

This is all part of developing a high-achieving, happiness-producing attitude. Live each day as though it were your last, with passion and with excellence. Yesterday is over, and tomorrow may never happen. Today is all we have.

This is not a limiting belief; on the contrary, it is tremendously powerful. It brings an end to procrastination, and it marshals a passion and desire to achieve all the good things that we know we can achieve, because when we live each day as though it were our last, we live each day to its greatest potential.

As Crazy Horse, along with other Lakota warriors, said at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, “It is a good day to die.”

“When Do I Die?”

A doctor once had a patient, a thirteen-year-old girl, who needed blood to live. The doctor walked over to the girl’s younger brother, who was sitting in the visitors’ room, and asked, “Davy, I need your blood to save your sister; will you help us?”

The little boy gulped but said yes without hesitation. Davy would do anything to help save his sister’s life.

The doctor laid Davy down on a table and started removing blood from one of his veins to transfuse directly into his sister. The family and the doctor prayed as they watched the girl in silence. Miraculously, in half an hour she was over the crisis. She would live. They were all elated, including Davy.

Then, through teary eyes, Davy asked, “Doctor, when do I die?” Davy thought that he was giving
all
of his blood to his sister. He thought that he had agreed to die for his sister.

There’s a great spark that is in all of us. The story of young Davy’s courage can help us find such a spark in ourselves.

I’m not suggesting that you have to die, or even be willing to die, in order to be a success. These stories are powerful illustrations of beliefs and attitudes that simply cannot be broken. They show us what it can be like to have the kind of passionate, courageous attitude that inspires any effort, any enterprise, and any life purpose—no matter how grand.

Living with a thirteen-year-old girl is rarely easy, and Megan Murphy was no exception. She could go from laughing to crying in the blink of an eye, usually leaving her parents bewildered about what had prompted such a sudden change. “She’s weird” was the usual response from her younger brother, Ben.

Her parents, Mark and Amy, had braced themselves for their children’s teenage years, but the reality had still come as a shock. Their oldest child, Brian, had become reclusive, lethargic, and argumentative, but this behavior had gradually disappeared by the time he finished high school and left for college.

Almost before Mark and Amy could exhale and congratulate themselves on having successfully navigated raising a teenager, Megan turned thirteen and seemed to change overnight. The formerly sweet child who had loved to snuggle with her parents on the sofa now barely spoke to them. The little girl who had loved family outings morphed into someone who was embarrassed to be seen in public with them, even ducking below the car windows if she spotted her friends.

Although her relationship with Mark remained fairly stable, Megan and Amy seemed to be constantly engaged in a battle of wills. A typical conversation went something like this:

Amy
: Megan, please take your dirty dishes into the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher.

Megan
: In a minute. I’m busy right now.

Amy
: You’re texting with someone. That can wait, and this will only take a minute.

Megan
: I’ll do it later. Besides, they’re not hurting anything.

Amy
: That’s not the point. They belong in the kitchen.

Megan
: Then you take them. You’re the one who cares.

Amy
: Don’t talk to me like that. I asked you to do something, so do it.

Megan
: In a minute. I’m busy right now.

Amy
: Who are you texting?

Megan
: Nobody.

Amy
: Clearly you’re texting someone. All I’m asking is—oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m going to take a bath. Take your dishes into the kitchen.

More often than not, the evening would end with Amy returning to the family room to find that Megan had gone to bed and the dirty dishes were still on the coffee table.

“I swear, I don’t know what we’re going to do with her,” Amy said one evening as she and Mark took a walk through their neighborhood. “I feel like all I do is nag her about everything. Chores, homework, picking up after herself. Everything is an argument with that girl.”

Mark always tried to be sympathetic and supportive during these conversations, but it was a little hard for him to relate. He still had a pretty good relationship with his daughter. She didn’t actively engage him the way she did Amy. He’d had some problems with Brian when he was in high school, but usually they’d still been able to connect through their mutual interest in sports. Maybe they hadn’t talked for hours about deeply personal issues, but they’d certainly been able to discuss whether the Cubs would ever win a pennant and how the Lakers had managed to blow a twenty-two-point lead in last night’s game. It wasn’t the same with Megan, but they usually got along fine. She seemed to save most of her animosity for her mother.

“I could never have gotten away with talking to my mother like that when I was her age,” Amy went on. “I had more chores than she does, and I always got them done. I did my homework, kept my grades up, had good friends, and treated my parents with respect. I just don’t get this.”

“I know,” Mark said. “We got through it with Brian, and I guess we’ll get through it this time.” He knew his response wasn’t particularly helpful, but he didn’t have another answer.

The next weekend, Amy was busy, so Mark volunteered to drive Megan to the mall to meet some friends. He decided to take advantage of the occasion to talk with Megan about her issues with her mother. The moment he broached the subject, he found himself on the receiving end of his daughter’s typical eye roll and heavy sigh.

“She drives me crazy,” she said. “She’s always lecturing me about how responsible she was when she was my age. I’m sick of it. She’s forever butting into my business, wanting to know who I’m talking to and what time I’ll be home and who’s going to be at the party. Why should she care about that stuff? I’m entitled to privacy.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean to—” Mark began, but Megan cut him off as though she hadn’t heard him.

“Like today. I had to play twenty questions with her before she’d let me go to the mall. What does she think I’m going to do, anyway? Smoke pot in the food court? God, she makes me so mad. And I’ll get another interrogation when I get home. Who did you see? Where did you go? Did you buy anything? I hate her.”

“Okay, that’s not acceptable,” Mark said quickly.

“I know, I know. I guess I don’t really hate her, but she’s making my life miserable.”

“Well, honey, you’re not exactly making her life a picnic, either,” Mark said as he pulled up to the mall entrance. “I’ll pick you up at eight sharp.”

A few weeks passed, and the battle of wills between the Murphy women continued to escalate. When Amy’s sister asked if her daughter, Carol, could spend the weekend while she and her husband attended an out-of-town wedding, Amy readily agreed. Maybe having someone else in the house would provide a buffer for a couple of days.

Megan was excited. Carol had just turned seventeen, and Megan idolized her. She could drive and date, and her life seemed to be just about perfect, as far as Megan was concerned.

On Friday night, Carol and Megan were sitting on the back porch chatting when Amy came outside. “Oh man, what does
she
want?” Megan muttered.

“I thought you girls might like some cookies,” Amy said. “They’re still warm from the oven.”

“Thanks, Aunt Amy,” Carol said. “They smell great.”

When Amy had returned to the house, Megan said, “Sorry about that.”

“What’s the matter? Your mom is cool,” Carol responded.

“Are you kidding me? She’s the least cool person in the world. Trust me.”

“What’s wrong with her? She seems fine to me.”

“Okay, let me give you an example,” said Megan. “Last weekend my friend Carly was having a party. Everybody was going. First, my mom wouldn’t let me go until she called Carly’s mother to be sure some adults would be there. Can you believe that? She called her mother! I was so embarrassed. Then she asked me about a million questions about who’d be there and what we’d be doing and what time I’d be home. She even wanted to know what I was going to wear. And the worst part? When I got home, she checked my breath to see if I’d been drinking. She said that wasn’t what she was doing, but I could tell by the way she hugged me and got real close to my face. She doesn’t trust me at all.”

“Maybe she thinks you’re being secretive because you don’t volunteer any information,” Carol suggested.

“Why should I? I can take care of myself. That stuff is none of her business. I can’t wait until I’m your age and have my own car and can do exactly what I want.”

“Well, that’s not quite how it works!” Carol said with a laugh. “I still have a curfew and rules, but things have lightened up between me and my mom. We used to butt heads all the time, but then about a year ago something happened that made both of us change our attitudes.”

“What happened?”

“We were like you and your mom. I felt like she didn’t trust me, and she felt like I was lying and hiding stuff from her. The more she questioned me, the more secretive I got. It just went around and around.”

“Yeah, that’s how we are. It’s crazy.”

“So one weekend I went to a party at this guy’s house. I didn’t really know him that well, but he seemed cool. His parents were out of town, so a bunch of people brought booze, and it started to get pretty wild. I drank a little bit, but I wasn’t wasted or anything. I was dancing and having a good time when one of my friends came over and said something was wrong with Heather and that I should come and help. Heather was on the floor of the bathroom, passed out cold. Turned out she’d been drinking tequila shots all night. I leaned down and tried to wake her up, but it didn’t even seem like she was breathing very much.

“I wanted to call an ambulance, but the guy who was having the party said no, because he’d get in trouble. He said she’d just sleep it off in a couple of hours. I said I’d take her to the hospital myself if someone would help me get to into my car, but he grabbed my purse and wouldn’t let me leave. By that time, other people were getting scared, too, and the place cleared out really fast. Heather was looking worse and worse, and I really thought she was dying. We’d gotten all those lectures about alcohol poisoning at school, but I guess I didn’t think it really happened.”

“Wow, what did you do?”

“Finally I said I was going to get a pillow to put under Heather’s head, and I started looking for my purse. I couldn’t find it, but I did see a phone in the guy’s parents’ bedroom, so I locked myself in there and called my mom. I knew I’d be in trouble, but I didn’t know what else to do. She was really good about it. She told me to stay in the bedroom and she’d call an ambulance. Mom got there right behind the police and the ambulance. Heather was in the hospital for like three days. The doctor told her parents she’d probably have died or had brain damage if she hadn’t gotten there when she did.”

“So how much trouble were you in?”

“It was weird. My mom didn’t really talk about it that night. She just said she was glad I was okay and that I’d done the right thing by calling her. She said she was disappointed that I’d gotten myself into that situation because I knew it was against the rules, but she was proud of me for handling it well. She said that she hoped I understood now how easy it was for a situation to get out of control and why she was always so concerned about where I was going and who I’d be with.

“Then she said, ‘How about we both agree to change our attitudes a little bit? I’ll try to trust you more, and you try to be a little more forthcoming with me.’ I was so grateful that I wasn’t grounded that I decided to play along for a few days, but I was shocked at how much easier our relationship got. After that, we just fell into the habit of being more open and trusting each other more, and things just kept improving.”

The story stayed on Megan’s mind for the next few days. She knew she was basically a good kid. She didn’t smoke or drink or do drugs. She and her friends all got good grades. In fact, she really didn’t have anything to hide from her parents. She just liked her privacy, but maybe her secrecy was sending a different message. She decided to try an experiment.

The next day, she casually approached Amy as she was cutting vegetables for a salad. “Is it okay if I spend the night at Carly’s Friday?” she began. Before Amy could respond, Megan continued, “Amanda is going to be there, too. Carly’s mom said she’d take us to the skating rink, then we’re going to rent a movie and make our own pizza. You need to pick me up at 11 Saturday morning because Carly has a dentist appointment at 11:30. You can check with her mom if you have any questions.”

Amy stopped chopping and thought for a moment. “No, I guess I don’t have any questions. That sounds fine.”

During the ride home from Carly’s house on Saturday morning, Amy said, “Did you have a good time?”

Megan started to bristle. This was none of her mother’s business. Why was she always so nosy? She started to roll her eyes and make a biting remark, but stopped to reconsider. “I did,” she said. She briefly described the pizza they’d made and the movie they’d watched, then braced herself for her mother’s follow-up interrogation.

“That sounds great,” Amy responded. “We should make our own pizza at home sometime.”

Over the next few weeks, Megan continued her experiment. She found that the less combative she was, the less her mother nagged. The more information she provided willingly, the less Amy pressed for more.

“I can’t get over the change in her,” Amy told Mark as they got ready for bed one night. “It’s not perfect, but that belligerent attitude has almost disappeared. I think it might be okay to let her go on vacation with Carly’s family after all. I was going to say no because I didn’t know what she might get into, but now I’m leaning in favor of it.”

“I’m glad you two are getting along better,” Mark said. “Things are a lot more pleasant around here.”

The next day, Amy agreed to drive her daughter to the mall. Megan looked thoughtfully out the window as they drove in companionable silence. Finally, as they were approaching the mall entrance, she spoke up.

“Mom, can I tell you something?”

“Sure, honey.”

“I like being around you a lot more since your attitude has improved.”

Amy was stunned.
Her
attitude? She glanced over at her daughter, but the sarcastic look she’d been expecting wasn’t there. Apparently she was serious, so why argue?

“Thanks, Megan,” she said. “I’m glad you noticed. That means a lot to me.”

Amy wasn’t nearly ready to be a grandmother, but a small part of her suddenly realized that she couldn’t wait to watch Megan raise a teenage daughter.

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