While I attempt to cobble together the second half of my recent post on freedom, I’m going to pay a visit to an important list.
This is a list which I’ve had on my desk for the last several years. I did not produce this list, and while I don’t read it every day, I read it often enough. As a father who often think he’s not doing enough of the “right things,” this serves as a great self-examination.
Here’s the list with some of my token thoughts. Take them or leave them, but the list has been indispensable for me.
DON’T think that what you say or do is better.
“But it probably is!” Well, maybe, but charity doesn’t always require you to make your position known. As a father, I generally know what’s best for my children. I still make mistakes, and sometimes they’re real bad (maybe more on that later). Sometimes, I let my kids learn their lessons the hard way. Still other times, they surprise me.
DON’T always want to get your own way.
Maybe a bigger deal for me than for you, but I’m an only child. For years, I got what I wanted. As an adult, I still struggle to shake what my wife has dubbed “Only Child Syndrome.” I get cranky and, sometimes, downright mean when I don’t get what I want. Pray for me. I can be an ass.
DON’T argue when you’re wrong or stubbornly insist when you are right.
Both feel good, don’t they? Maybe the former less so than the latter, but pride demands we stand our ground even in a loss, and bury our opponents when we have the upper hand. This, however, does not embrace Christian charity.
Like all things worth doing, gaining mastery of your words is difficult. By and large, adults know when they’re about to say something that will cause injury. We also have an innate sense of when we’ve wondered into a minefield of inaccuracy on a pogo stick. In both situations, the solution is simple: stop and think.
DON’T give your opinion if not asked for it when charity does not demand that you do so.
You get what you pay for, and in the case of free advice, it’s often not much. I can count on two hands the number of times I’ve been personally (i.e. 1-to-1) offered words of wisdom that resonated and made a difference. If I’m not asking for help, I’m probably not going to be receptive to it if it’s given. Thankfully I’m a rookie dad compared to a lot of my friends, so I’m almost always asking for advice.
Therefore, I try to keep my mouth shut when speaking with family, friends, and colleagues. If a recent nickname (Mr. Mayor) from my oldest is an indication, I’ve got a lot more work to do.
DON’T despise the point of view of others.
These aren’t getting any easier. We’ve allowed society to polarize itself, but it doesn’t need to be that way. There are famous friendships between dramatically different people: Justices Scalia and Ginsburg; Hilary Clinton and Mother Teresa. I’m not going to compromise on doctrine, but I’d do well to ask myself, “Is this an offense against God, or does it just annoy me?” If the former, is disgust the best response? Or sympathy and friendship? Even if it’s thrown back in your face, well… at least you tried.
DON’T forget your gifts and good qualities are on loan.
This is an easy one for me. When I’m overcome by events or life is getting hairier than I’d like, I go into hyper-control mode. “If I don’t fix this, no one will.” What a ridiculous mentality. I’m prickly and unpleasant. Who wants that?
“What? You want me to play baseball with you? Listen here, Junior. I’ve got to pick up the seven hundred books y’all have left on the floor.” Why? Mostly because the “gift” I embrace most is my weakness, and I utterly ignore my real gifts! Gifts that were conceived outside of my life, offered to me for my life, and will be judged at the end of my life.
How do I know I’m using these gifts and good qualities? I see it in the faces of my wife and children.
DON’T forget that you are unworthy of esteem.
I lump this one with a few others:
Don’t hear praise with satisfaction.
Don’t be hurt that others are held in greater esteem than you.
Don’t seek being singled out.
Don’t inflate yourself in conversation.
To start: Yes, I’m unworthy of esteem. What have I really done? Not much. I contributed to the generation of new life. That’s my claim to fame in my first thirty-seven years. I, like so many others, have gotten a degree, gotten a job, purchased a house, contributed to a 401k. I’ve made things out of wood (not terribly well at times).
It’s tempting to get down in the dumps when I think about how little I’ve actually accomplished. We humans are great at encouraging each other, so does that make all your kind words null-and-void? Does it mean I have low self-esteem? No, despite what modern psychologists and their self-reverence may assert. What I consider here is what is my focus? Do I want to be known, or do I want others to be known?
Dale Carnegie’s seminal work How to Win Friends and Influence People makes this point:
“You can make more friends in two months by becoming interested in other people than you can in two years by trying to get other people interested in you.”
Dale Carnegie, How to Win Friends and Influence People
Alexandre Havard, a prominent author in the study of leadership, echoes this sentiment in his work Created for Greatness.
“Humility is the second virtue specific to leaders. Whereas magnanimity affirms our personal dignity and greatness, humility affirms the dignity and greatness of others.”
Alexandre Havard, Created for Greatness: The Power of Magnanimity
I’m going to die one day. Calling that to mind frequently isn’t morbid, but an exercise in prioritization. What the heck am I doing with myself? Am I putting my wife and kids on the path to Heaven? What would they say about me if I dropped dead now? How would they, the most important people in my life and those entrusted to my care, remember me? Tough questions. Answer honestly.
Side note: Your answers will likely not boost your spirits. That’s OK. Nunc Coepi.
Part 2 at a later date. This one’s long enough.
