Tuesday, June 3, 2014

The Courage To Ask Questions

"We make all sorts of assumptions because we don't have the courage to ask questions."
Miguel Ruiz, The Four Agreements:  A Practical Guide To Personal Freedom

Have you ever noticed that a 2-hour movie would be over in 10 minutes if one character simply turned to another and asked, "So. Why are you upset?" Instead, we get two hours of guessing, recriminations, gossip and heartbreak before the final reel when the two characters realize that their assumptions were faulty and fall into one another's arms as the credits roll.

The same thing happens in real life. Instead of asking why someone appears angry, we make assumptions (that is, we guess) as to why he might be angry. Instead of asking why a phone call wasn't returned, we make assumptions like, "I must not be important" or "She doesn't like me."  Instead of asking why someone appears to be scowling, we attempt to "read" the body language behind the apparent scowl and assume that we've done something to upset him.

We spend endless hours conjecturing with friends as to why someone didn't smile at us or why our email wasn't answered or why we were told "no" when we expected a "yes" instead of simply asking the person whom we feel offended by, "why didn't you do (what I expected)?"

Silence isn't golden.  Unless we ask why a person did or did not do something, we are left only with our guesses and our imagination. And these guesses and imaginings can damage our relationships.

Here's a real life example that had a happy ending 55 years later than would have occurred had one person simply asked, "So. How did you like the flowers?"

The story is told in the book (although not in the television movie based on the book), "Masters Of Sex," the story of William Masters and Virginia Johnson who became famous and infamous for their sex research during the last decades of the 20th century.

In 1937, when he was 22 years old, Bill Masters fell deeply in love with Geraldine Oliver whom he called Dody.
At one point in their courtship, Dody was hospitalized near her home  in Buffalo, New York. Bill was attending medical school in Rochester and, as soon as he heard the news, drove all night to be beside Dody.

Unfortunately, when he arrived at the hospital, Bill was told that he couldn't see Dody because she was recuperating and couldn't be disturbed. Bill left to drive back to school, but first left flowers and a note with the night nurse with instructions to please be sure and give them to Dody as soon as possible. The flowers were an elaborate and expensive assortment and Bill had gone to considerable trouble to get them.

Weeks later, Bill returned to Buffalo to see Dody after she had left the hospital. Dody seemed distracted and responded perfunctorily to conversation. Bill was dying to ask why she was being stand offish and how she liked the flowers, but never did. Assuming Dody had lost interest in him during her hospitalization and subsequent convalescence, Bill and Dody drifted apart.

Over the next 55 years, Bill got married, had two children and divorced after 28 years to marry his sex researcher partner, Virginia Johnson to whom he was married for 22 years.

In 1991, at the age of 76, Masters asked Johnson for a divorce so that he could marry the love of his life. He had run into Dody completely by accident. Neither had been looking for the other. Dody had herself been married, divorced and widowed from a second marriage.

55 years after the fact, Bill Masters found out that the night nurse had never given Dody the flowers and he never asked about it. Dody had assumed it was Bill who had lost interest and her silence was her way of communicating her hurt.

It took 55 years for Dody and Bill to be reunited, something that could have happened 55 years earlier, had he simply asked, "So. How did you like the flowers?" or she had simply asked, "Why did you ignore me when I was in the hospital?"

It takes courage to ask questions. But life is short and it saves a lot of time and grief.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Freedom's Just Another Word For Forgiveness

Janis Joplin sang, "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose." Freedom's also just another word for forgiveness.

It takes so much courage to forgive the difficult people in our lives. Yet until we forgive, we can never put the past completely behind us and create a future free from the constraints of the past.

One reason I think it's so hard to forgive is because we confuse forgiveness with condoning what was done to us. They're not the same.

Two recent movies have reminded me of the courage it takes to forgive and the freedom that becomes available when we do. Both movies are based on true events.

"The Railway Man" is the story of Eric Lomax, a British engineer fighting in Singapore during World War II. His unit is captured by the Japanese and taken to Thailand where they are forced into slave labor to build the Thai-Burma railroad.  Lomax is tortured. His forearms are smashed and he is repeatedly waterboarded.

Lomax survives, but he is haunted by what happened to him. He suffers what today we would call post traumatic stress disorder, repeatedly reliving the torture.

In 1980, Lomax discovers that Takashi Nagase, one of his torturers, is alive in Japan. Lomax tracks him down with the intent of killing him. Instead, he realizes that  the war will never truly end for him until he forgives his tormentor.  Lomax does so.  The scene where he and Nagase embrace is unbelievably moving.

Here's a video of the real Lomax and the real Nagase:



In "Philomena," the teenage Philomena Lee becomes pregnant and is sent by her father to live in an Abbey where she is held in virtual servitude. The nuns force her to give up her son for adoption.

As an adult, Philomena searches for her son. She is joined by a newspaper man thinking this would make a great story.

Philomena discovers that her son, renamed Michael by the American family that adopted him, died of AIDS at the age of 43. Knowing he was dying, Michael visited the Abbey to search for his birth mother. The nuns knew where Philomena was, but refused to let her son know. They had also refused to let Philomena know that her son was looking for her. Michael died thinking Philomena was uninterested in finding him.

When the truth is uncovered, the newspaper man is outraged and shouts curses at the nuns. He expects Philomena to do the same. But in an extraordinary act of generosity and courage,  Philomena forgives the nuns, saying that she doesn't want to live her life full of hate. She knows that, like Eric Lomax, her suffering will never end unless she forgives.

It takes so much courage to let go of the past hurts done to us. The movie examples are of people who were tortured and lied to. But our daily interactions with difficult people are much more mundane: The person who treats us like we don't exist at meetings or talks over us.  The person who butts in front of us in line without apology. The person who tailgates us because we won't drive faster. The person who criticizes us without regard for our feelings. The person who calls us stupid or lazy or some name that hurts. The person who is arrogant or stubborn or opinionated or, in short, difficult to get along with. Sometimes we hold on to these daily slights for years.

I remember meeting a man who had spent years blaming his ex wife for their divorce. One day, having had no contact with her since the divorce, he called her. When she answered, he apologized for blaming her. He took responsibility for the divorce. Not 50% of the responsibility. 100%. He told his ex wife that he was genuinely sorry.

When he was done speaking, there was a long pause. Finally,  his ex wife said to him (and this is a quote. It was such a surprising comment that I wrote it down), "I was prepared to hate you for the rest of my life. What am I going to do now?"

A great question. A hole is left when we give up resentment. What are we going to do now? I think the answer is that now we can be free and powerful. Now we can create a future free from the past that was holding us back. Now we are free to be extraordinary.





Saturday, May 3, 2014

How Do Difficult People Occur To You?

Have you ever said, "It suddenly occurred to me" or "That never occurred to me?" Those statements are exactly correct. We see something we hadn't seen before or something we never thought of before. Reality hasn't changed, but the way we see reality is quite different. As Wayne Dyer has said, "If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change."

Something happened recently that changed the way a person I had thought of as difficult occurred to me and made me realize that "difficult" is in the eye of the beholder.

I've been living next door to John for two years.  I would see him driving away or returning to his home or I'd see him washing his car in his driveway. We'd nod towards one another and, occasionally, add a small wave. In truth, I knew John's name only because a neighbor had told me.

The fact is, I'd been afraid of John ever since I moved in here. I sensed that my neighbors were afraid of him as well. I had been told by several neighbors that he wanted to be left alone. John is a big man in height and weight, with a bald head. That combination of physical characteristics and what I had been told had John occur to me as menacing. I may have occurred to him in the same way. After all, I hadn't exactly been the friendliest of neighbors.

This year, I took over being the "Block Watch Captain" on the block where I live. We have meetings of the homeowners twice a year and my job is to chair those meetings to discuss issues that are important to people who live in the 37 houses on the block. I also distribute the email and phone list for the residents as well as the minutes of our meetings.

There are residents of seven houses who never come to the meetings. Needless to say, I don't have their contact information. One of those residents is John.  I decided that I was going to get that information. I wrote a flyer that asked if they'd like to be included in the phone and email list. I walked down the block to put the flyer in the seven mailboxes.

I had crossed the street and was a few doors down from my house when I saw John's garage door opening. I stood still as though frozen to the spot, considering whether to walk across the street to talk to him. I waited to see if John would drive out of his garage, but no car emerged. Neither did John. I must have stood there for 15 seconds. Then I turned and proceeded up the street, berating myself for my cowardice.

I put the flyer in the mailboxes and turned to come home. I decided that if I got to John's house and he was in his garage, I would talk to him. If his garage door was closed, I'd put the flyer in his mailbox. As I walked, I practiced what I would say.

John was in his garage, with his back towards me. As I had practiced, I smiled broadly and, in as friendly a voice as I could muster said, "John." He turned to face me. I put out my hand and said, "Your neighbor. Larry Barkan."

To my surprise, John shook my hand and smiled back. In fact, he couldn't have been nicer. We talked for at least 15 minutes. He brought me into his yard and showed me his garden. He told me that he was a power lifter and had recently had shoulder surgery. He gave me some pointers about the safe way to lift weights. There had recently been a minor fire in our neighborhood and we talked about it. It occurred to me (another "occurring" that may or not have been true, but "true" has nothing to do with it) that he would continue talking to me as long as I continued to respond.

He told me his name was James, not John. We laughed. I apologized. I had been calling him "John" for all the time we had been talking.

I finally said that I had to go and asked if he would be willing to give me his contact information for our distribution list. Without hesitation he did and even said, "I should come to one of those meetings." I told him I hoped he would.

"We see the world not as it is, but as we are." I've seen this quote attributed variously to Anais Nin, Stephen Covey and the Talmud. In other words, it's an occurring world.  James occurred to me differently after our talk. He was the same James. I was the same Larry. He just occurred differently to me and that made all the difference.

Do you sometimes avoid certain people because you are sure they're difficult to get along with? Perhaps that's only how difficult people occur to us.

If you have any questions, comments or concerns, please write me at ljbarkan@thepivotalfactor.com I'll be happy to respond.

If you'd like a copy of my report "How To Deal With  Difficult People," go to conflictresolutiontraining.net and give me your email address.

My thanks to Landmark Worldwide (landmarkworldwide.com) for insight into the occurring world.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Are We All In This Together?

Really interesting interview in the New York Times on April 27th, 2014 with a man named Jay L. Garfield, an expert on Buddhism. The article is called "What  Does Buddhism Require" and can be found at  http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/04/27/what-does-buddhism-require/?_php=true&_type=blogs&hp&rref=opinion&_r=0.

Buddhist doctrine questions the primacy of the individual. During the interview,  Garfield says, "A strong sense of self — of one’s own substantial reality, uniqueness and independence of others — may not be psychologically or morally healthy. It can lead to egoism, to narcissism and to a lack of care for others. So the modern emphasis on individuality... might not be such a good thing. We might all be better off if we each took ourselves less seriously as selves (emphasis mine).

What a challenge to our Western beliefs!  Our culture lauds the individual, the self made man, the woman who "leans in," the rugged individualist, the person who fights alone and prevails against all odds. We believe in the myth of the West as exemplified by Gary Cooper staring down the outlaws in "High Noon" with no help from anyone (the reality of the West, of course, is that without the massive Federal dams, there would be no West to mythologize).  We want to believe we're Shane (in the movie of that name), the lone gunman who heroically saves the rancher and his family. The reality is, we are the rancher and the lone gunman is more of a threat than a savior.

Have you seen that famous 1972 picture of Earth from Space?


the_blue_marble_nasa

When you look at that picture, you can see why we might think we are individual selves, operating autonomously, grabbing the bull by the horns, going for the gusto and just doing it. After all, we are completely alone in a vast Space.

At the same time, that picture argues for the inappropriateness of thinking we can operate autonomously. We're so clearly all in this together. The actions of one "self" has consequences for all "selves." Looking at that picture, it's easy to imagine that a butterfly flapping its wings off the coast of Australia can create a typhoon in Japan. More concretely, it's easy to believe that the pollution coming from industrialized countries will one day end it for all of us.

As the scientist Carl Sagan noted, "The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena...There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."

Later in the New York Times interview, Jay Garfield, suggests we, "Take the future seriously as something we have the responsibility to construct, just as much as if we would be there personally." In other words, be willing to build a tree under whose shade we will never live to sit. Consider the consequences of our decisions on seven generations into the future, as the Native Americans teach us.

If we consider only our individual selves, we are doomed.




Sunday, April 27, 2014

Be Assertive. Speak Up For Yourself When With A Difficult Person. As Soon As You Recognize There is No Self


Handling a conflict with a difficult person basically requires two activities:
  1. Listening for what the other person needs.
  2. Assertively speaking up for what you need.

However, you may find yourself, when dealing with difficult people, fearful of speaking your mind. You may walk away from an interaction wishing you hadn't held back from saying what you really need.

You can be assertive and stand up for yourself just as soon as you recognize that there's no such thing as yourself.

Let me explain this seeming paradox by first having you do something.

Write down three words that:
  1. A person you think of as difficult to get along with might use to describe you.
  2. Your mother might use to describe you.
  3. You would use to describe you.

Doing this exercise should convince you that there's no such thing as "yourself." Confused? Let me explain.

Take a look at your lists. Who's right about you? Who has described you most accurately?

Obviously, all descriptions are accurate, from the point of view of the person doing the describing, including you about yourself.

If there were actually something that might be described as "yourself," then that would be the truth about you and everyone would describe you (including yourself) in that way every time.

But that's obviously not what happens. Depending on the circumstance, time of day, mood, and many other variables, descriptions we have of ourselves and others have of us will change, sometimes from moment to moment and person to person as you undoubtedly saw when describing yourself from the point of view of the three people in the exercise.

For example, I'll bet, when you described yourself, you didn't write "poopy face." Yet, when you were five years old, another five year old might very well have described you that way and you would have cried because you would have believed that child, even though you would have had no idea what a "poopy face" was. Just the way it was said would have upset you. In fact, if you had the words then, you might have described that child as difficult to get along with. Today, you would laugh. Why? Because there's no way you'd believe that description of yourself. Dealing with that "difficult" child wouldn't be difficult at all.

But today we do believe descriptions of ourselves that have no more validity than poopy face. The words we use to describe ourselves form our identity. They describe who we believe ourselves to be. They become "ourself." But they are not "ourself" any more than poopy face is.

"Ourselves" are inventions that we create moment to moment. We make it up. We are continually playing a game of "let's pretend" only we forget that we made up the game. The point of view we have about ourselves holds no more validity than "poopy face" did when we were five.

The problem is that we get stuck with certain parts of our invention and we call that "ourselves." We get stuck being people who "just aren't assertive," or "are shy" or "not good enough" or "not smart enough," "not talented enough," or...fill in your own blank as you did in the exercise above.

By the way: This applies to "good" descriptions as well as "bad" ones. "Courageous" is every bit an invention as "frightened" (and I'm not talking about real fears like lions and tigers and bears. I'm talking about imaginary fears of people who are bigger than us, talk more loudly, who make unreasonable demands or are generally difficult to get along with).

It just depends on what we choose to believe. "Poopy face" or "Handsome/beautiful?" Take your pick. Literally. We get to choose.

Now when you start making these different choices to be assertive and stand up for yourself with people who are difficult to get along with, that old identity of yours will scream at you, "That's not who you are" and, if you listen and respond to that scream, you'll stay stuck.

So when you hear that voice, I suggest you do what I do: Imagine that voice is an alien presence that has latched on to your face. Pretend you are tearing that alien off your face and say to that alien, "Thank you for sharing, but I'm committed to being" (whatever you choose to be). Then throw that alien voice in the garbage can. Go ahead. No one is looking. Make a gesture to throw that alien away.

I know this sounds silly but I can't tell you the number of alien voices I've jettisoned. There's something about physically throwing the alien voice away that is incredibly freeing.

If you're with a difficult person, find yourself holding back but, obviously, can't physically throw that voice away without embarrassing yourself, imagine in your mind throwing the alien away and then be what you choose.

You can, you know. Just as soon as you recognize there's no such thing as "yourself."

If you have any questions, comments or concerns about any part of this, please write me at ljbarkan@thepivotalfactor.com. I'll be happy to respond.

Monday, April 21, 2014

"Minority Report:" Is There Such A Thing As Free Will?


In the Tom Cruise movie, “Minority Report,” Tom plays a “PreCrime” Captain named John Anderton who apprehends criminals based on foreknowledge provided by three psychics called "precogs". The movie examines whether free will can exist if the future is set and known in advance.

I thought the movie was an interesting fantasy. After all, I believe that we have the power to choose our lives in spite of our circumstances and that we can create any future we choose regardless of our past. I’ll bet you’re a believer too.

I’ve subscribed to the philosophy of Joseph Campbell, the expert on how myths shape our lives, who encouraged us to “follow our bliss” and, in doing so, the world would cooperate in having us fulfill our dreams.

Now I’m not so sure. Welcome to the future.

In his book “Free Will” (which makes a strong case that we don’t have any), Sam Harris cites two experiments. In the first, the physiologist Benjamin Libet used EEG imaging to show that a person’s brain registers a future action we are going to take some 300 milliseconds (enough time for a basketball player to get off a shot before the buzzer) before we actually move.

And a good thing, too. Imagine if we saw the driver of the car in front of us suddenly jam on the brakes and we had to take the time to consciously decide whether to stop or not before hitting our brakes. Our brains save us from accidents almost every time we drive. This explains how we can drive without consciously thinking about driving and still respond to an emergency.

In the second experiment cited by Harris, subjects were asked to press one of two buttons when they saw a letter appear. Now get this: The experimenters found two brain regions that contained information about which button the subjects would press a full 7 to 10 seconds before the decision was consciously made.

The implications of these studies suggest that it’s possible for someone (say a “PreCrime Captain” if there were such a person in real life) to accurately predict our behavior before we behave. How can we claim to have free will when someone can detect what we’re going to do before we know we’re going to do it?

Blows your mind doesn’t it? If we are not acting out of choice (free will), what is giving us our actions? If we don’t have free will, can we hold the murderer responsible for murder, the bully responsible for bullying, the smoker responsible for his “choice” to smoke or the obese person responsible for his/her weight?

In an article by two professors of psychology and neuroscience in the July 27th, 2012 New York Times (“Did Your Brain Make You Do It?”), the writers ask not only about the implications of these studies to our understanding of whether someone is truly responsible for a crime, but also for ordinary activities like “maintaining exercise regimens, eating sensibly and saving for retirement.”

They conclude by saying “It’s important that we don’t succumb to the allure of neuroscientific explanations and let everyone off the hook” even as neuroscience is suggesting that we have to let everyone off the hook.

But how then to explain the fact that people do lose weight and keep it off, decide to stop smoking and do so or commit to having a loving marriage and maintain that pledge til death do them part?

Good question.

Harris addresses this dilemma but doesn't really answer it. What he does say is that we still can hold others (and ourselves) responsible for their actions, but we must be compassionate when doing so.

As he writes in his book, ”Speaking from personal experience, I think that losing the sense of free will has only improved my ethics—by increasing my feelings of compassion and forgiveness and diminishing my sense of entitlement to the fruits of my own good luck.”

So the next time you go off a diet, become angry even though you want to be kind or procrastinate when you know you should "just do it," forgive yourself. You could have made a different choice but you had no free will to do so.

It's a paradox we'll just have to live with for now.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Muhammad Ali Really Is "The Greatest"


You want to know how to handle difficult people? You can do no better than use Muhammad Ali as your role model.

I could draw no other conclusion as I watched the HBO "true to life" show, "Muhammad Ali's Greatest Fight" as well as a PBS "Independent Lens" film called "The Trials of Muhammad Ali." The latter is a documentary while the former is a fictionalized version of actual events interspersed with interviews with the real Muhammad Ali and other contemporary figures.

"Muhammed Ali's Greatest Fight" opens in 1967 when Ali has joined the Nation of Islam and has refused induction into the armed forces on the grounds of being a conscientious objector to the war in Vietnam. The nation was bitterly divided about that war and Ali became the lightning rod for all sides in the debate.

Ali was stripped of his world heavyweight champion boxing title and didn't fight again for four years while the case wound it's way through the courts and, ultimately, was decided in Ali's favor by the Supreme Court in 1971.

Think about that for a moment. As a matter of conscience, Ali gave up millions of dollars he would have earned in the ring. He had devoted his entire life to one thing: Being the heavyweight champion of the world and he had no way of knowing if he would ever fight again.

Whether Ali is the greatest boxer who ever lived is an ongoing debate. In my mind, what really makes Ali "The Greatest," (as he proclaimed about himself) is his temperament during this time. Not once was he seen exploding in rage. At one point, David Susskind, a well known television producer and talk show host at the time said about Ali as Ali sat there silently listening, "He's a disgrace to his country, his race and what he laughingly describes as his profession...He's a simplistic fool and a pawn." (Susskind also predicted Ali would go to jail proving just how wrong Susskind was on all counts.)   

At the end of "Muhammad Ali's Greatest Fight," there is an interview with Ali in which he is asked why he never showed resentment towards those who had stripped him of his title and questioned the veracity of his belief about being a conscientious objector to the war.

Ali's response demonstrates why he is "The Greatest" and we are mere mortals. Ali says, "I'd be a hypocrite if I (showed resentment) because they did what they thought was right...For me to condemn them, when I was also doing what I thought was right, would be hypocritical."

Wow! Talk about getting up off the floor and not coming up swinging. Ali is a role model for those of us who struggle with our desire to lash out when we are attacked, knowing that doing so would only bring an unending series of attacks and counterattacks.

In 2005, Muhammad Ali received the Presidential Medal of Freedom. George W. Bush, when presenting the medal, called Ali "a man of peace."

Well deserved.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

"Wall Street:" It's All About Luck


There's a scene in the 1987 movie "Wall Street" where Gordon Gekko played by Michael Douglas is riding in his limousine with Bud Fox played by Charlie Sheen. Looking out the window of the limo, Gekko points out two men standing side by side waiting for the light to change.

One man is wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. The other is a street person pushing a shopping cart. Gekko says to Bud Fox, "You gonna tell me the difference between this guy and that guy is luck?"

The answer to Gekko's question is a resounding, "Yes." It's all about luck.

Take Steve Jobs. Jobs' luck in being born in what became Silicon Valley and not, say, Toledo, Ohio led directly to the creation of Apple. His neighbors worked for Hewlett Packard. His classmate was Wozniak. He was surrounded by a culture of experimentation. Because of these connections, he was able to call David Packard and talk to him personally. Talk about luck!
How about something germane to our daily experience? Did you eat in a restaurant in the last month? You're lucky to be alive. After all, the person preparing the food didn't decide on the day you ate there to put a little arsenic in the lettuce.

Have you flown on an airplane in the past year? Good for you that you were lucky enough to choose a flight flown by a pilot who valued his life as much as he valued yours and mechanics who made sure your plane was safe.

Are you alive? Do you think that's a silly question? Well, congratulations on being lucky to have had parents (or whoever raised you) who nurtured you enough to ensure that you made it to this point.

My father's parents emigrated from Russia in the early 1900s. Because I'm an American and not a Russian with all the advantages that implies, I'm richer than 95% (99%?) of the world and I'm only in the middle of the middle class here.

Think about it: Every day, including today, our survival is based on luck. We walk down the street and don't get mugged or shot or run down by a car as we cross to the other side (not everyone will be so lucky). Our children go to school and come home safely (not everyone will be so lucky). We plug in the microwave and don't get electrocuted (not everyone will be so lucky). We didn't come down with an incurable disease today (not everyone will be so lucky).

Gordon Gekko, the man who claims to be superior to that street person, is lucky, although he'd probably attribute it to his "greed is good" ethos. Gekko says to Bud Fox, " You see that building? I bought that building ten years ago. My first real estate deal. Sold it two years later, made an $800,000 profit."

Do you think it was anything but luck that caused Gekko's building to appreciate? How much did your house depreciate during the mortgage crisis? Gekko's lucky timing was responsible for his profit.

I'm writing this because I hear people claim that they are "self made" and many of these people, I'm sure, worked hard for their achievements. But to take just one of a thousand potential examples, unless they've never eaten in a restaurant, "self made" people owe their lives to the chef who didn't poison them.
In fact, we're so lucky that we take our luck for granted when we should be grateful.

I wish you all the luck in the world. May today be your lucky day.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

"Meatballs" and "Groundhog Day:" It Just Doesn't Matter


Bill Murray stars in two movies that have had a huge impact on me and both have similar messages.

The first is the 1979 movie "Meatballs" in which Murray, playing an iconoclastic camp counselor, counsels his youthful charges that "It just doesn't matter" if they win or lose an athletic competition against a much wealthier and more athletic group of campers across the lake.

Rather than being depressed by Murray's exhortation, the campers are joyful, free of the paralyzing fear of failure that has plagued them. After all, if "it just doesn't matter" if they win or lose, why not just enjoy playing the game?



In 1979, I was struggling to teach reading to students in a Chicago public high school. I was successful on some days and an abysmal failure on others. I recorded the audio of Murray's speech, played it as I drove to my teaching job and chanted, "It just doesn't matter" along with the campers. Murray's exhortation was liberating. I began enjoying the inevitable wins and losses of the "game" of teaching.

1993's "Groundhog Day" is the other Bill Murray movie that had a profound effect on me and, in its message, bears a striking resemblance to "Meatballs."

In "Groundhog Day," Murray discovers he can lie, steal and consume all the carbohydrates he wants because there will be no consequences. Tomorrow, he will wake up and begin the same day all over again. Whatever he does, "it just doesn't matter."

The similarity of "Groundhog Day" to "Meatballs" is observed in a scene where Murray, drinking in a bar, asks two fellow imbibers, "What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?" One of these drinkers responds, "That about sums it up for me."

The trio gets in a car and is soon being chased by the police. Murray drives on railroad tracks, straight towards an approaching train. Veering away from the train at the last minute, Murray laughs as he reminds himself that, whatever he does, "it just doesn't matter."



Just as in "Meatballs," Murray discovers in "Groundhog Day" that the futility of life, the realization that nothing one does really matters, rather than being an excuse to quit, is an impetus to create joy even in the most absurd of situations.

I worry about what may happen in the future and I regret things I've done in the past. I worry about having enough money to pay my bills and live comfortably. When I teach or write, I worry that I'm not good enough to make a difference. I have regrets about not having been a better student in college and a better son to my deceased parents. I regret not being as loving to my wife as I aspire to be.

And then I recall these movies.

In the end, both "Meatballs" and "Groundhog Day" are odes to the joy of existence. Both movies ultimately provide mundane advice, but they do so in the most entertaining and delightful of packages: If the world gives you lemons, make lemonade. Don't just accept your fate. Embrace it. Do for others regardless of what they do for you. Above all, laugh in the face of failure and success because there's really nothing to worry about or to regret.

After all, "it just doesn't matter."

Thursday, April 10, 2014

"High Fidelity:" The Secret To A Lasting Relationship, Guaranteed


I've been married for 41 years. People sometimes ask for the secret to ensure a lasting relationship. I tell them to watch the movie, "High Fidelity." The answers are in that movie.

It may seem more than a little strange to suggest "High Fidelity" as a template for having a lasting relationship given that the protagonist, Rob (John Cusack), is not able to sustain a relationship for longer than a few months. But by the time the movie has ended, we have learned, along with Rob, the secret to creating a relationship that lasts.

Near the end of the movie, Rob invites Laura to meet him at a restaurant. Laura had dumped Rob early in the movie and he has spent the rest of the movie reviewing his past relationships to see why he has been unable to sustain any of them.

Shortly after Laura sits down, Rob asks Laura to marry him. She is startled to say the least, especially since she has recently seen him flirting with a woman he has just met. She asks his reasons for wanting to get married. Rob now reveals to Laura and to all of us how to sustain a relationship:  

"That other girl...woman...whatever. I was thinking they're just fantasies. And they always seem really great because there's never any problems. If there are, they're cute problems like we bought each other the same Christmas present or she wants to go see a movie I've already seen. And then I come home and you and I have real problems and you don't want to see the movie I want to see period. I'm tired of the fantasy because it doesn't really exist."

In other words, the grass always appears greener on the other side until we realize that the grass on the other side needs the hard work of mowing, just like the grass on this side.

Relationships are most vulnerable when we pine for the grass on the other side of the fence. We imagine we'll be much happier with the attractive woman/man at work, at the gym, standing in line in front of us buying coffee because, we're sure, the problems we'll have with that person will be "cute" problems and not "real" problems. We're tired of real problems and long for the cute ones.
Rob's plaintive statement that "...the fantasy doesn't really exist" is a brilliant insight. Fantasies don't exist in reality. In reality, there are real problems that require real work and a real commitment. 

So, in a nutshell, what's the secret to a lasting relationship? Stop mistaking fantasy for reality. After all, the person you're currently in a real relationship with and with whom you are having real problems, was at one time the fantasy person with whom, you imagined, you would share only cute problems. Fantasies are exciting precisely because they are fantasies. Keep them there.

Get to work on your real relationship and you'll be in that relationship for a long time.