Your Good Name

It’s cage-match time:
Socrates vs teen-age wisdom, (aka “Why you should care” vs “Who cares?”)

I came across this quote from the Master Philosopher, and I really, really, really want the children to embrace it, beginning immediately, and let it inform a large percentage of their behavior.

Here it is: 
“Regard your good name as the richest jewel you can possibly be possessed of... The way to gain a good reputation is to endeavor to be what you desire to appear.” (Socarates)

Selling this as a good thing is an uphill climb, especially as “your good name” is subject to personal interpretation.  Some might say having a “good name” means having lots of social media “likes” or a having large following.  It could mean fifteen minutes of fame, starring in a viral video. 

But a good name isn't any of those.

What I would like my children to understand is a good name is what others say about you...not what you say about yourself.  And what others say about you is based, just a little, on what you SAY, but most of what others say is based on what you DO. 

Take any person you know only slightly.  Now, what do you know about this person's reputation?  Reputation words are behavior words.  It's not what they say (you might not even have heard them speak directly), it's what they do.

I've always wondered about people who seem eager to introduce their credentials into a conversation as early as possible; sort of a "Head's up, you should listen to what I have to say, because I'm X,Y and Z."  It feels a bit forced, as if to say, "I tell you, I have a good name and a good reputation, so no need to exert yourself deciding if I'm the real deal."

"Who cares?" any teen (and some adults) asks. 
"Aren't we supposed to not care what people think?"

Well, none of us can control what others think.  Ask any exhausted people-pleaser, whose efforts never seem to be enough.  Or the critical micro-manager.  Regardless of what others think or say, consistently doing things to make one's own corner of the world more pleasant, peaceful and predictable for all DOES matter, in a way the simple pursuit of fame (or infamy) does not. 

What words do you want to come to mind when people hear your name?
Go do those.  It's slow going at times, but at the end of your hard work is the richest jewel you can possibly be possessed of:  your good name.

Second Chances

There's an egregiously pot-holed stretch of road near our house, on a route we frequent frequently.  (Some might say all of Michigan is egregiously pot-holed, and that would also be accurate).  It's been that way for some time, slowly getting worse with each freeze-thaw cycle.  Now, no amount of cold-patch will fix it...which is not to say the township won't keep applying that particular "remedy."

It's finally gotten so bad, even with the patches, I'm sucking up some of the precious minutes during the school drop-off/pick-up run and taking a different route.

Last spring, another stretch of nearby road was in the same condition.  It just could not be patched any further, but it's low-lying, with swamp up to the edge on either side.  The township couldn't find a contractor to fix the road under those conditions.  Finally, they did!  Not only did this contractor grind off the top layers of asphalt (standard for resurfacing), they went all the way down to the gravel, built up the roadbed well above the swamp and put a smooth, crowned surface on it.  It's like the road got a second chance.

Some life situations seem like the two roads--too damaged to be traversed safely, and only a complete, from-the-ground-up do-over will make things better.  Simply applying more patches isn't enough.

I have one of those situations right now.  I've been patching away like mad, but it's time for something more drastic.  The choices are to just avoid that particular "road", or grind it down to the gravel and start over; in other words, to have a second chance at making the situation right, from the ground up.

Sometimes, the children ask for (or expect!) a second chance, when all they really want to do is apply/reapply "cold patch" to the situation, instead of actually grinding down to the gravel, applying different behaviors or skills and creating a true fix.

To stretch the metaphor even further, I would tell the children that asking for a true second chance is like being a contractor bidding on the road project:  What's the plan?  How long will it take?  What's the price?  How will the repair process affect people nearby?

A second chance should be about success, an opportunity to say "Yes!  I have a plan!" and celebrate a positive income.

I'm ready to do things differently.  I'm ready for my second chance. 

A Different 30-Day Challenge

No, not a weight-loss or healthy-eating challenge (she wrote, while scarfing down some recently unearthed chocolate Easter eggs...from last year).

This past week, I was in a video/study group.  The broad topic was exchanging something good for something better, and how we often get stuck on the "good" things, instead of the "better" things.
The specific topic du jour was,
"If you had 30 days to live, what would you do?"

I've heard similar questions before.  What if you only had a year?  Two weeks?
The difference this time was the follow-up statement.

"Whatever you would choose to do, however you would choose to spend your time...that's what you value."  Put another way, "What do you value so much, you would make sure to fit it in to your last thirty days?"

The speaker reported his own poll showed no one replying "I'd spend the time making more money" or "I'd buy more stuff."  That intuitively makes sense.

The REALLY interesting part of this question is not the specifics, because most people probably have some variant of investing time in loved ones or long-dreamed-of experiences.

The interesting part is what motivates those decisions.  Why choose that Alaskan cruise with the family?  Why write birthday letters to the children?  Why make personal bequests of treasured items?

I don't know for sure, but I do know that everyone who has moved through my own life has affected its course in some way...even if I can't point to a specific time or incident and say, "That's it, right there."  Every person, no matter how casual the contact, lingers in some form, whether they've just passed through our lives, or truly passed on, like the ringing of a bell lingers in the air, even after the clapper is still. 

I wonder if the real 30-day (or 30-year) challenge is to use one's remaining time to create a sweet, lingering ring.  Some people might call this "leaving a legacy", but I think it's simpler than that.  A legacy sounds big and grand, like ripples that spread in larger and larger circles.   And it sounds like a real time suck, too much work for 30 days.

"What do you value so much, you would make sure to fit it in to your last thirty days?"
I think it's very simple--to be remembered and loved.