Winners take full responsibility for determining their actions in their own lives. They believe in cause and effect and have the philosophy that life is a “do-it-to-yourself” program. Many people refuse to face the truth in the mirror of their lives on a daily basis and prefer to hide behind the belief that fate, luck, or possibly their astrological sign have shaped the outcome of their lives. These people who feel that life is mostly determined by circumstances, predestination, or being at the right place at the right time are more likely to give in to doubt and fear. Those who cannot make up their minds for fear of making the wrong choice, vacillating in indecision, simply do not achieve their goals—a requisite for success. Rather, they take their place among the rank and file, trudging along in mediocrity.
In his classic book, Self-Renewal, John Gardner states that winning individuals do not leave the development of their potential to chance. They pursue it honestly, systematically, and look forward to an endless dialogue between their potentials and the claims of life—not only the claims they encounter, but the claims they invent. Daily, thousands of individuals are finding that there is a bright new world out there to be discovered and are demonstrating Gardner’s statement that “we don’t know we’ve been imprisoned until we’ve broken out.”
People who are aware that they exert control over what happens to them in life are happier and are able to choose more appropriate response to whatever occurs. All individuals are what they are and where they are as a composite result of all their own doings. Although our innate characteristics and environment are given to us initially, the decisions we make determine whether we win or lose our particular game of life.
Voltaire likened life to a game of cards. Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her. But once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide how to play the cards in order to win the game. The writer, John Erskine, put it a little differently when he wrote: “Though we sometimes speak of a primrose path, we all know that a bad life is just as difficult, just as full of work, obstacles, and hardships, as a good one. The only choice is the kind of life one would care to spend one’s efforts on.”
I had the good fortune to learn about self-reliance early in life. My father had gone overseas in World War II. I was nine and the eldest boy in the family, who spent most of my time helping my mother make ends meet and taking care of my younger siblings. There was an army antiaircraft gun emplacement near our home in San Diego, California. The soldiers stationed there would make friends with us to occupy their lonely hours on duty, and they would give us military souvenirs. I received a camouflaged army helmet and a canteen for drinking water. In return, I brought them magazines and invited them over for some home cooking, such as it was. We had little money and couldn’t afford much food, and I learned later that the soldiers were more interested in my sister than they were in me.
I’ll never forget the evening when one of those soldier friends said, “I want to take you fishing in a boat, Sunday, at 5 in the morning.” I replied, barely able to keep my feet on the ground, “Oh, wow, I’d love to go. I’ve never even been near a boat. I’ve always fished off the bridge, or the pier, or the rocks, and just watched the boats heading out in the ocean. But I’ve always dreamed of going fishing on a boat. Oh, thank you. I’ll ask my mom if you can come over for dinner tomorrow.”
I was so excited I went to bed with my clothes and tennis shoes on, so I’d be sure not to be late. I lay in my bed, unable to sleep, counting big sea bass and barracuda that I imagined were swimming on my ceiling. At 3 am I sneaked out of my bedroom window, got my tackle box all set with extra hooks, oiled my fishing reel, packed two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and at 4 am I was ready to go with my fishing pole, my tackle box, my lunch, and my enthusiasm—sitting on the curb in front of my house, waiting in the dark for my friend the soldier. But he never showed up.
That probably was a pivotal point in my young life in terms of self-reliance. Instead of crawling back in bed sulking, I went to a swap meet and spent all my lawn-mowing money on a patched-up, one-man rubber life raft. I carried it, with my gear inside, on top of my head like a safari native, all the way to the bay about a mile from my house. I pretended I was launching a cabin cruiser, as I paddled out in the bay. I caught some fish, ate my sandwiches, drank punch from my army canteen, and had one of the most marvelous days of my life. It was an all-time high.
When I look back on that day—as I often do—I always ponder what I learned. First, I learned that when the fish are biting, no problem in the world is big enough to be remembered. Second, my soldier friend taught me that having only good intentions doesn’t cut it. He wanted to take me, he thought about taking me, he may even have been planning to take me before his alarm clock did or didn’t go off. But, because it wasn’t his burning desire or a real commitment, he didn’t show. For me, however, going fishing that day was my magnificent obsession and I took action to make that obsession a reality.
Rather than live in frustration and disappointment when others don’t follow through on their well-meaning promises, I try to have a contingency plan in mind so that I can keep on “doing” rather than sitting there and “stewing.”
Even though I learned early lessons about self-reliance, I didn’t fully realize until I was 35 that I’m behind the wheel in my life. I thought it was the government, the economy, the world situation, and my heritage. I used to think that as a Gemini, I was destined to be creative but non-specific. I should have taken a hint from one of my daughters when she was only eleven months old. She was in her highchair for dinner, and I decided she should eat some nourishing strained squash. I tasted it to test the temperature. It was bland and not too exiting, but I knew it was good for her. I held the little curved spoon out and gently entreated, “Open up, honey, Daddy has some yummy squash for you.” She stared coldly at me and clamped her mouth shut in passive defiance. Although she was unable to speak, had she been able to talk she certainly would have said, “Go ahead, Daddy, why don’t you eat it.” Being in total control of the situation, I simply pressed her cheeks firmly with two fingers, thus forcing her mouth open. I then neatly inserted the spoonful of squash into her mouth and quietly, but sternly, ordered, “Go on, swallow it; it’s good for you.” She spit it out all over my face! She had decided at eleven months old she did not like the taste of strained squash. She has grown children of her own now, who for some strange reason never liked the taste of strained squash either!
Children do begin to take control of their lives at an early age. Many children learn how to control their parents’ lives as well, long before they know how to talk in complete sentences. Whining receives attention. Crying receives consolation. Begging gets goodies. Tantrums create havoc. It’s easy to incite Mommy against Daddy and sit back and watch the show.
In a very real sense, we all become hostages of hundreds of restrictions of our own choosing or with the assistance of the entertainment media and our parents. As children, we either accepted or rejected the teachings and lifestyles of the significant adults in our lives. I know from experience that the greatest gifts that parents can give their children (and that managers can give their employees) are roots and wings. As we mentioned last week, roots lie in core values and feelings of self-worth. Wings grow from acceptance of responsibility, which enables our children to fly freely as independent adults. The loss of roots and wings too often leads to pursuit of “loot and things,” and other tragic results.
In my parenting and leadership seminars, I tell a true story about a young couple who invited me to their home for dinner some time ago after an all-day program at a university. This man and woman, both highly intelligent with advanced degrees, had opted for a “child-centered” home so their five-year-old son Bradford would have everything at his disposal to become a winner out there in the competitive world. When I arrived at their driveway in front of a fashionable two-story home, I should have known what was in store for me. I stepped on one of his many scattered toys getting out the car and was greeted by, “Watch where you’re walking, Mister, or you’ll have to buy me new ones!”
Entering the front door, I instantly discovered that this was Bradford’s place, not his parents’! The furnishings, it appeared, were originally of fine quality before their son practiced his demolition skills on them. We attempted to have a cup of tea in the family room, but Bradford was busy ruining his new video game controls. Trying to find a place to sit down was like hopping on one foot through a mine field, blindfolded. Bradford was the first to be served with food, in the living room, so that he wouldn’t be lonely. I nearly dropped my hot cup in my lap in surprise when they brought out a highchair that was designed like an aircraft ejection seat with four legs and straps. He was five years old and had to be strapped in a highchair to get through one meal! (Soon, I wished it had been a real aircraft ejection seat!)
As we started our salads, young Bradford dumped his dinner on the carpet and proceeded to pour his milk on top of it to ensure that the peas and carrots would go deep into the shag fibers. His mother entreated, “Brad, honey, don’t do that. Mommy wants you to grow up strong and healthy like Daddy. I’ll get you some more dinner while Daddy cleans it up.”
While they were occupied with their chores, Bradford had unfastened his seat belts, scrambled down from his perch, and joined me in the dining room, helping himself to my olives. “I think you should wait for your own dinner,” I said politely, removing his hand from my salad bowl. He swung his leg up to kick me in the knee, but my old ex-pilot reflexes didn’t fail me, and I crossed my legs so quickly that he missed, came off his feet and came down hard on the floor on the seat of his pants. You’d have thought he was at the dentist’s office. He screamed and ran to his mother, sobbing, “He hit me!” When his parents asked what happened, I calmly informed them that he had fallen accidentally and that, besides, “I’d never hit the head of a household!”
I knew it was time to be on my way when they put their little prince to bed by placing granola cookies on the stairs as enticers. And he ate his way up to bed! “How are you ever going to motivate him to go to school?” I asked quietly. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll come up with something,” they laughed. “Yes, but what if the neighborhood dogs eat what you put out? He’ll lose his way just like Hansel and Gretel!” The couple didn’t find that humorous and never invited me back.
As a travelling lecturer, I see many children throughout the world who are in charge of their parents. I also observe many teenagers and adults who, as a result of overly permissive or overly strict leadership at home, are out of control. Life’s greatest risk is being spoiled or pampered and then feeling entitled to depend on others for your security, which can really come only by planning, acting, and making choices that will make you independent. Leadership ideas that solve problems and create opportunity come from creative trial-and-error thinking.
Years of study and some painful personal experiences have convinced us that fear of the costs of success are among the reasons prejudiced people resist change. For success does have its price, including:
Taking responsibility for giving up bad habits and invalid assumptions.
Taking responsibility for setting an example in our own lives.
Distancing ourselves from a peer group that isn’t helping us succeed and therefore tends or wants to hold us back.
Leading ourselves and others down a new and unfamiliar path.
Working more to reach a goal and being willing to delay gratifications along the way.
Being willing to face criticism and jealousy from people who would like to keep us stuck in place with them.
These are among the perceived costs of success that prompt people to escape from the present by occupying their minds with past memories or future expectations. Leaders, by contrast, are not dismayed by the cost of success. They get started and build positive momentum. Determined to pursue their potential, they look forward to an endless dialogue between their talents and the claims of life.
Winners live by making choices, rather than taking chances. It’s true that things turn out best for people who make the best out of whatever comes up on a daily basis. Although our innate characteristics and environment are given to us initially, the decisions we make determine whether we win or lose our particular game of life. We in the developed nations, with access to knowledge and communication, are fortunate to be more in control of our destinies than those in the most impoverished areas of the world in which just having food and water for the week are the primary goals and challenges.
I still continue to experience parents who feel so guilty about the lack of quality and quantity of time they spend with their children that they spoil their kids by over-indulging them into feeling like entitled little emperors and empresses. When kids feel entitled, they don’t feel responsible for paying the price of success. They grow up as whiners who remain dependent on others for their outcomes.
What you make of your life is up to you. You have all the tools and resources you need. What you do with them is your decision. The choice is yours and it’s never too late to get in the game.
Consider Sister Mary Martin Weaver, a Catholic nun, who took up athletics many years ago—at the age of fifty-five. She has won forty-four gold, silver, and bronze medals in a variety of events, including the five-thousand-meter race walk, snow-shoe racing, speed and figure skating, basketball free throws, shotput, and ice hockey!
At an age when most people are going for the gold medal in napping, Sister Mary has become a fixture at the U.S. National Senior Olympics. “People have gotten flabby,” she says, “and I don’t mean just physically. Anything that requires real effort, they just don’t want to do. But there are no rewards in anything unless you try. Age should never be a barrier to full participation in life. What’s most important is to enjoy life to its fullest, to do things for and with others, and never, ever be afraid to stretch your limits. Choose to win!”
Many people engage in pleasurable activities with no particular result in mind. We call this immediate gratification. Winners choose activities that will give them long-term positive results as well as daily satisfaction. That’s delayed gratification.
I had the good fortune to work with one of America’s best NFL football teams, the Chicago Bears, who won the Superbowl in 1985. I became a friend and colleague of one of the greatest running backs in the history of American football, who is one of the leading ground-gainers of all time. There’s a steep hill in a suburb of Chicago that played a significant role in the making of this champion.
During the off-season, every off-season, he would run up that steep hill every day. No matter how hot and humid the day might get, regardless of thunderstorms or mud, he still charged up that hill over and over again. Sometimes other players would join him, even players from other teams throughout the league would race him. After a short time they all would quit, totally exhausted. They couldn’t believe anyone would be that obsessed with conquering a hill. But he urged them to keep going until they dropped, and even then, he went a few more times. Finally, when he felt he too had enough, he went one last time.
When football season came again, he fought for every yard, every inch. It usually took more than one opponent to bring him down. And near the end of the games, when victory or defeat was still undecided, that hill would really pay off for Walter Payton of the Chicago Bears. While others faded, he would seem to get stronger. That he was talented is without question. But all professional players have talent. What Payton also had was that hill. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t publicized by the media. It was, quite simply, his way of paying the price for success.
When you, like Sister Mary and Walter Payton, have paid the price in full, you too can have the best seat in the house. The one at the top of the hill. Winners live by making choices, rather than taking chances. In the previous message we focused on the fact that people who are aware that they exert control over what happens to them in life are happier and are able to choose more appropriate responses to whatever occurs. It’s true that things turn out best for people who make the best out of whatever comes up on a daily basis. Although our innate characteristics and environment are given to us initially, the decisions we make determine whether we win or lose our particular game of life. We in the developed nations, with access to knowledge and communication, are fortunate to be more in control of our destinies than those in the most impoverished areas of the world in which just having food and water for the week are the primary goals and challenges.
Questions: What kind of pressure do you feel to conform to the standards, views, and beliefs of your peer group? Can you fit in and stand out at the same time?
Action: Be aware today that others may try to hold you back with them, rather than want you to move ahead. Take more responsibility for your outcomes today by being proactive, instead of reactive. Be different if it means to care more, do more, give more, and expect more. Ask for or assume more responsibility today.