Mindset Matters

I used to love the old 1960’s show, The Lone Ranger . It’s about one dude who rolls into town, fights the bad guys, saves the day and figures out all the problems by himself. I think our society has grown to love and admire that type of character more and more. The self-made man or woman, the solo climber, the person who surmounted seemingly impossible obstacles alone without needing anyone else. It is the ideal that brought us Rambo and the one-man army. Americans love the idea of independence, but we sometimes miss the reality of interdependence. Rambo doesn’t exist. And if he did, he would not have survived long. Even the Lone Ranger had Tonto. In life, we are all faced with mountains we must overcome. We sometimes place pressure on ourselves that we must go it alone. This is our obstacle and our journey alone. We must be a solo climber. But the solo ascent should be the exception, not the rule.   We need other climbers to get us to take one more step when all we want to do is sit d

  Outcomes have a funny way of mirroring inputs. Just like your physical appearance is generally a mirror of what you put into it – both the quality of food and physical activity – your life is also a generally mirror of the various habits and routines that make up your life. Problems arise when there is a disconnect between the quality of the desired results and the quality of our inputs. We fall into the trap of expecting excellent results from mediocre inputs. We sometimes get surprised when we don’t get A’s on the tests of life even though we put in C-level effort and commitment. It is like practicing with the JV squad all week and expecting to play on varsity on game day. If we do not like the outcomes and results in our lives, we need to take a hard look at the inputs: the habits, routines and life choices that we tolerate. Half-hearted inputs typically lead to half-baked results. Results mirror inputs.

  It is good to have goals. It is good to be driven and ambitious. It is good to make short-term sacrifices for long-term benefits. It is good to be future-focused. But can all that get me into trouble? I characterize myself as being driven and disciplined. I have no problem homing in on an objective and going all out to achieve it, even if that means giving up a lot in the short to intermediate future. Yes, all that can be good. But I must be careful to avoid putting on blinders that keep my focus on the future but might also cause me to miss the present. If I am not cautious, I might find myself running past true joy in the present while I chase what I think might bring me happiness in the future. This is not a hypothetical risk. The ambitious, hard-drivers fall prey to this present-blindness all too often. How many people chose the wrong goal – for sake of illustration, let’s call it wealth for wealth’s own sake – and they sacrifice everything to achieve it? They alienate fami

  “Knowledge is power.” I think that quote has been attributed to both Thomas Jefferson and Sir Francis Bacon, and both guys had plenty of it. It was also the theme of a public service message when I was kid, encouraging children to read more often. I agree with the sentiment: knowledge is certainly important. But is knowledge alone power? Or is it like a lightbulb, requiring a separate power source in order to be effective? Or maybe even like an engine, capable of producing power, but still requiring ignition of some sort before that force can be generated? In that sense, knowledge would be potential. It might hold powerful possibilities, but still depends on an outside energy source to be unleashed. Knowledge alone is just latent potential. It is possibility waiting for a spark, for activation. Knowledge thirsts for action. But knowledge teamed with appropriate action, that is a powerful force indeed. 

  Inaction destroys far more lives than ignorance. Sure, there are plenty of things you do not know. There are myriad useful information that I am not aware of or do not have access to as well. However, there is also an abundance of valuable knowledge we both have that we simply do not employ and leverage to improve our lives. It is easy to blame ignorance. “I just did not know any better,” we explain to others when things go wrong. We also try to sell ourselves that little line. And sometimes it is true. And maybe even most of the time it is narrowly correct. But it misses the bigger issue: How much of the knowledge that we do have do we reliably act on? No, you may not understand how to compare mutual funds or real estate investments, but you do know you need to save for the future. Are you consistently paying your future self? No, you may not know whether kale or broccoli is better for your health and longevity, but either is a much better choice than the McDonald’s breakfast

  Inside each of us, a battle rages between thankfulness and entitlement. Unfortunately, our default setting as human beings is ingratitude. We do not need to work at it or nurture that state of mind. Ingratitude is like a weed; it just springs up naturally when nothing else is planted. We need not nurture it or care for it. Ingratitude does quite well on its own. In fact, all ingratitude needs to flourish is to be ignored. If you do not believe me that ingratitude is our default state, just observe any baby who has kept his mother up all night, yet in the morning looks at her like “What have you done for me lately?” and still demands immediate attention. There are no feelings of appreciation for the sacrifices his mom made over the preceding several hours. He is hungry NOW and that is all that matters. Gratitude, on the other hand, must be intentionally planted and carefully cultivated. Unlike the weeds of ungratefulness, gratitude is like a delicate flower that must be patiently

  Every morning for the past two years I have woken up to breathtaking view of the city of Anchorage, the inlet and many, many gorgeous mountains – including even Mt. McKinley on some days. The first time my wife and I walked the lot, many years before we even considered buying it as a realistic possibility, the panoramic views were awe-inspiring. Now that we enjoy that scenery every day, there is a risk that what was once breathtaking becomes commonplace. We could take that spectacle for granted, and instead of waking up with gratitude, we begin worrying about some story on the news feed, all the things we must get done today, the difficult conversation we need to have and the usual worries of the day. Pretty quickly, what could have been a glorious morning rapidly fades into the background as the stress or monotony of everyday life takes over. It is all about what we chose to pay attention to. If I let my mind focus on all the emails I must reply to, all the meetings scheduled,

  Proof is a funny thing. In a world full of ambiguity and uncertainty, we are constantly in search of proof. Proof that a vaccine works or that a mask protects us from infection. Proof that a product does what it promises. Proof that one car is more dependable than another. Proof that a politician is trustworthy and dependable. Proof that a decision will benefit us or that a certain lifepath will work out. Proof that our spouse or significant other will love us no matter what. But real, undeniable proof is quite difficult to attain. In many instances, it is nothing short of impossible. And while we hold out for it, life can pass us by. While it may seem like requiring proof from life is a conservative decision, the risk is substantial. We jeopardize our future by requiring something from life that it cannot possibly deliver. We risk a life unlived by demanding that life provide us proof. If we hesitate to move forward until our next step is fully validated and our path is paved wi