Use extreme examples to remind yourself of helpful ideas

I find it beneficial to keep various short narratives—stories—in the forefront of my mind and allow them to inform and guide reoccurring situations. 

For instance:  

When I travel, I like to pack light. When packing my luggage, I often think of this anecdote.

When my son-in-law, Jonathan, was in officer training school for the Navy, the trainees went on a three-day survival trip. All they could take was what they could cram in a backpack and because they were traveling on foot, the lighter the load the better. So instead of packing a full-size toothbrush, he cut off the handle and just took the bristle part. He took that approach to everything that went into his bag.  

So when I’m packing for a trip, I think like this: Nylon is lighter than cotton so when possible, I’ll take clothes made from nylon. Instead of taking four medicine bottles, I’ll presort my medicine into a daily-dose container. I limit myself to two pairs of shoes (wearing one and packing one). I’ll plan on hand-washing clothes on the trip. Remembering Jonathan’s example helps me pack lightly. 

At the church where I work, I oversee finances. When I analyze check requests and purchase orders, I often think of this anecdote. 

My parents were faithful members of our home church. They consistently gave 10% of their income to support it. Though we were a low-income family, they always contributed their part. After Dad and Mom died, one day I was thumbing through their check stubs and I saw a check written to the church for $43.80. They lived on their $438 monthly Social Security check, which wasn’t much, but they were faithful to give 10%.

So when I’m perusing POs and check requests, I think about the many small gifts that are given to our church by low-income families. I want our church to be a good steward of every gift. 

When I communicate—both orally and in writing—I strive to be clear and succinct. I want to use as few words as possible and make every word count. I often think of the following story and it helps keep me on target. 

When Vijay opened his store, he put up a sign that said: “We Sell Fresh Fish Here.” His father stopped by and said that the word “We” suggests an emphasis on the seller rather than the customer, and is really not needed. So the sign was changed to “Fresh Fish Sold Here.” 

His brother came by and suggested that the word “here” could be done away with—it was superfluous. Vijay agreed and changed the sign to “Fresh Fish Sold.” 

Next, his sister came along and said the sign should just say “Fresh Fish.” Clearly, it is being sold; what else would you be doing?

Later, his neighbor stopped by to congratulate him. Then he realized that all passersby could easily tell that the fish was fresh and that mentioning the word “fresh” actually made it sound defensive as though there was room for doubt about the freshness. So, he changed the sign to just: “Fish.”

As Vijay was walking back to his shop after a break he noticed that one could identify the fish from its smell from far away, even at a distance from which one could barely read the sign. He knew there was no need for the word “Fish” so he took the sign down.

So when I write, I think about Vijay’s experience and try to tighten up my prose by eliminating unnecessary words.

Identify your own stories that will remind you of important values and help keep you on track. 

[On a totally different topic, here’s a great article regarding good advice from Warren Buffett. Now 90 years young, the Oracle of Omaha is still impressing with important life lessons.]

Warren Buffett Says 4 Choices in Life Separate the Doers from the Dreamers

Here’s a four-minute video of my vineyard

I’m an oenophile (one who studies wine). I find it endlessly fascinating. The study of viticulture and viniculture leads one into geography, history, chemistry, agriculture, gastronomy, culture, and social psychology.

Years ago I earned certifications from the Society of Wine Educators, The Court of Master Sommeliers, and WSET, but I realized that the only way to complete my education on this topic would be to actually plant grapevines, harvest grapes, and make my own wine. But I didn’t have a place to plant the vineyard. Then, three years ago, my daughter and son-in-law let me plant a 60×60 vineyard on their property at Cedar Creek lake (60 miles east of Dallas). 

It’s been an interesting, exhilarating, and challenging project (beavers destroyed five vines; Black Rot stymied their growth; birds ate the red grapes, etc.), but in July we had our first harvest and in September we tasted the first fruit of the vine.

This project has reminded me of several important things: physical labor is refreshing; an enjoyable hobby is therapeutic; having a vision and seeing it come to fruition is very rewarding; nature is remarkable; and enjoying a nice meal with loved ones is wonderful. 

Here’s a video of our journey.

Find your own nature preserve

Many have heard of Henry David Thoreau’s place of refuge — Walden Pond — where he would retreat for deep thought and reflection. In his own words, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” 

Celebrated impressionist painter Claude Monet also had a sacred space—a lily pond—that offered him succor and inspired some of his greatest paintings.

What we may not know is that Walden Pond was only a mile and a half from the town center of Concord, Massachusetts. Monet’s place of refuge was at his house in a French town, Giverny, just an hour from Paris.

When I visited each sight, I sensed the beauty and tranquility, but I was surprised to discover that they were located in common, somewhat mundane neighborhoods. They weren’t hundreds of miles from civilization in the midst of a primordial forest. They were … in the backyard.

In the past several years I have developed an appreciation for the therapeutic value of spending time in nature, both alone and with a few family members. My daughter and son-in-law have created a nature preserve on two acres at a local lake about 60 miles south of Dallas. We enjoy observing wildlife, noticing the consistency and beauty of the four seasons, the sounds and smells of nature, and the calm conversations that the environment engenders. 

Similar to what Thoreau and Monet experienced.

My point is, when seeking your own personal refuge, don’t think it need be a faraway, exotic, awe-inspiring place. Your backyard might suffice, or a local park. 

Thoreau wrote in Walden, “It is not worth the while to go round the world to count the cats in Zanzibar.”  Connect with nature close by.

[Here’s an interesting article titled The Therapeutic Power of Gardening.]

 

Museum of the Bible returns thousands of items to Egypt and Iraq; the anatomy of a good confession

I admire someone who says, “I made a mistake.” I have little regard for those who make mistakes but refuse to admit them. Politicians and leaders, in particular, are reluctant to admit mistakes. When Richard Nixon commented on Watergate, when Ronald Reagan talked about the Iran-Contra affair, and when Hillary Clinton spoke about Whitewater, they used the phrase, “Mistakes were made.” That doesn’t quite hit the nail on the head, does it? There is no “I” in that phrase.

Compare those responses to one of the most famous unsent messages in history. General Eisenhower penned the following memo before the invasion of Normandy. Fortunately, it was never posted because the invasion was successful.

“Our landings…have failed…and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based upon the best information available. The troops, the air and the Navy did all that bravery and devotion could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone.”

I recently read a news release in which Steve Green (chairman of the board, Museum of the Bible), admitted that the museum had unwittingly acquired thousands of documents that lacked proper provenance. Acknowledging their mistake, the museum is returning over 11,000 documents to their rightful owners: Egypt and Iraq.

I have never heard or read a more clear and sincere confession and plan of restitution. Green’s handling of the problem was both refreshing and instructive. We can learn from what he did.

Individuals and corporations should learn how to properly respond to their mistakes. Below are some characteristics of a good confession. I’ll give examples of how each might sound in a marriage relationship and also include snippets from Steve Green’s corporate statement.

1. The scope of confession should equal the scope of the offense.

When admitting fault, speak to everyone who was affected by your mistake. If you speak harsh words to your spouse, confess to him or her. But if three other people witnessed the incident, you need to confess to four people.

Museum of the Bible—Instead of hiding the offense, the Museum of the Bible made a public announcement. A news release from the organization was posted on its website on March 26, 2020 and subsequently reposted on numerous media channels.

2. Confessions are most effective when we take the initiative to confess without first having to be confronted and challenged by those who were offended. 

Can you sense the difference between these two scenarios?

Scenario 1

Joan: Hey Bob, got a minute?

Bob: Sure, what’s up?

Joan: When we were having lunch yesterday, you said something that really offended me.

Bob: Oh yeah? What did I say?

Joan: It was the comment about my work on the Meyers project.

Bob: Oh, that bothered you? Well, okay, perhaps it did come across a bit tacky. Sorry about that.

Scenario 2

Bob: Hi Joan, got a minute?

Joan: Sure, what’s up?

Bob: Yesterday, when we had lunch together, I made a tacky comment about your work on the Meyers project. It was wrong of me to say what I did. Would you forgive me?

In the first scenario, Joan confronts a clueless Bob. In the second scenario Bob initiates the conversation. There’s a huge difference.

Museum of the Bible—Beginning in late 2017, we also engaged with officials in several countries, including Egypt and Iraq, to open a dialog regarding items that likely originated from those countries at some point, but for which there was insufficient reliable provenance information.

3. Be specific; name the offense.

Hurts don’t come in generalities; they are specific. So the confession must be specific. Can you sense the difference between these two statements?

“Honey, if I’ve ever done anything to offend you, would you forgive me?”

“Honey, I realize that I have had a critical spirit toward you. Last night I criticized you about the hotel arrangements you made for our vacation. I should have been grateful that you took the initiative to plan such a nice trip.”

A good confession will mention a specific wrong.

Museum of the Bible—One area where I (Green) fell short was not appreciating the importance of the provenance of the items I purchased. 

4. Properly address the emotional hurt that your offense has caused.

Offenses are not only technically wrong, they hurt the offended person. So when we offend someone, we should confess our wrong and address the hurt that we caused. For instance, if I yell at my children, I have not only wronged them, I have hurt them. I must deal with both the technical aspect of being wrong and also the emotional dimension. That’s why a good confession will often involve empathetic words such as, “I’m so sorry that I hurt you by my harsh words.”

5. In your confession, use the phrase “I was wrong”; not just “I’m sorry.”

Just saying “I’m sorry” can compromise and even neutralize a confession. For instance, in the following sentences, the words in parenthesis might not have been spoken but could have been implied.

      • “I’m sorry what I said offended you (but it wouldn’t have offended you if you weren’t so hypersensitive).”
      • “I’m sorry you feel neglected (but after all, you are overly needy).”
      • “I’m sorry you were upset by my teasing you at the party (even though everyone else thought my story was hilarious).”

Use the phrase “I was wrong” because it admits personal responsibility for the offense and conveys a sense of seriousness.

Museum of the Bible—These early mistakes resulted in Museum of the Bible receiving a great deal of criticism over the years. The criticism resulting from my mistakes was justified.

6. Don’t dilute the confession.

When confessing an offense, don’t include any statements that would dilute the confession. Don’t:

      • Minimize the offense: “Yeah, I got angry and yelled at you, but that’s not the main issue.”
      • Rationalize/justify: “The reason I yelled was…”
      • Blame others: “I wouldn’t have become angry if you hadn’t…”
      • Offer a trite confession: “Okay, okay; I’m sorry.”
      • Ignore the offense: “Let’s talk about something else.”

7. Ask forgiveness.

For a confession to be complete, we should ask forgiveness. The best way to do this is simply to say, “I was wrong. Will you forgive me?” Hopefully, the offended person will forgive you. If he or she does not, and you have genuinely and properly confessed, you have done all that you can and should do; it is now the other person’s decision whether or not to forgive you.

8. Make restitution.

If possible make restitution for your action. Try to return what was stolen and/or restore what was damaged. If someone’s reputation was impaired, try to make it right. 

Museum of the Bible—I long ago made the decision that when our research revealed another party had a better claim to an item, I would do the right thing and deliver such items to that party. We have already proactively made several such returns. Today, I am announcing that we have identified approximately 5,000 papyri fragments and 6,500 clay objects with insufficient provenance that we are working to deliver to officials in Egypt and Iraq respectively.

The world would run more smoothly and be a better place to live if all of us simply owned up to their mistakes.