Audio Tidbits

Listen to this little tune for two minutes and forty-nine seconds and don't keep running the chorus past your mind once you have finished listening. I couldn't do it and bet you can't either.

Listen to this little tune for two minutes and forty-nine seconds and don't keep running the chorus past your mind once you have finished listening. I couldn't do it and bet you can't either.

"I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do." -- Edward Everett Hale

A similar sentiment was expressed by William Penn "I expect to pass through life but once. If therefore, there be any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do to any fellow being, let me do it now, and not defer or neglect it, as I shall not pass this way again." Your best strategy over the long-haul is to understand where people want to go and help them get there. You do this by talking with them about what aid and support they need from you and being sure they get it. It may seem more expedient to charge full-speed-ahead and others be damned; but being too self-serving ends up, in the long run, serving no one. Your success is best served by helping others succeed.

The glitch is that, no matter how well-intentioned, your offer to help is usually turned down or the response is, "I will let you know." If you sincerely want to help, do not ask what you can do to help or wait to be asked. Think about what the person's problem is or what they want to accomplish and then do something helpful. Proactively helping is most always much more helpful than help that is merely offered though it does take a little more time, a little more thought, and a little more effort. "Did that help?" is often the best question you can ask. As Sunshine Magazine pointed out, "He who gives when he is asked has waited too long."

The famous Anon. had a particularly pithy way of emphasizing the importance of being proactive with others, "Being good is commendable, but only when it is combined with doing good is it useful." Albert Schweitzer and William James respectively joined the help when you can, wherever you can chorus. "Wherever a man turns he can find someone who needs him;" and "Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does." Perhaps the last word on it should go to George Bernard Shaw who said, "This is the true joy in life - being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy."

Now you know so there you go.

"I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do." -- Edward Everett Hale

A similar sentiment was expressed by William Penn "I expect to pass through life but once. If therefore, there be any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do to any fellow being, let me do it now, and not defer or neglect it, as I shall not pass this way again." Your best strategy over the long-haul is to understand where people want to go and help them get there. You do this by talking with them about what aid and support they need from you and being sure they get it. It may seem more expedient to charge full-speed-ahead and others be damned; but being too self-serving ends up, in the long run, serving no one. Your success is best served by helping others succeed.

The glitch is that, no matter how well-intentioned, your offer to help is usually turned down or the response is, "I will let you know." If you sincerely want to help, do not ask what you can do to help or wait to be asked. Think about what the person's problem is or what they want to accomplish and then do something helpful. Proactively helping is most always much more helpful than help that is merely offered though it does take a little more time, a little more thought, and a little more effort. "Did that help?" is often the best question you can ask. As Sunshine Magazine pointed out, "He who gives when he is asked has waited too long."

The famous Anon. had a particularly pithy way of emphasizing the importance of being proactive with others, "Being good is commendable, but only when it is combined with doing good is it useful." Albert Schweitzer and William James respectively joined the help when you can, wherever you can chorus. "Wherever a man turns he can find someone who needs him;" and "Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does." Perhaps the last word on it should go to George Bernard Shaw who said, "This is the true joy in life - being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy."

Now you know so there you go.

"It may be years before anyone knows if what you are doing is right. But if what you are doing is nice, it will be immediately evident." -- P.J. O'Rourke

The idea seems to be that good manners can and often do cover up the proverbial multitude of sins. As Arthur Schopenhauer put it, "Politeness is to human nature what warmth is to wax." It may quickly distort or otherwise transform reality. What seems sincere may merely be the latest example of Abel Stevens' observation, "Politeness is the art of choosing among one's real thoughts." The point is that in an effort to "be nice," candor can easily take a backseat to what Emily Post described as "a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others." The desire not to upset or offend takes priority over the responsibility to be honest and straightforward.

Of course, W. Somerset Maugham did say, "I don't think you want too much sincerity in society. It would be like an iron girder in a house of cards." And Lord Halifax said, "A man that should call everything by its right name would hardly pass the streets without being knocked down as a common enemy." The conclusion follows that there is an appropriate, middle ground between total honesty and bad manners. One should find that balance between excessive rudeness and being unnecessarily impolite on the one hand and knavery or excessive dishonesty on the other.

Are you tempted to agree with this argument? If so, you are probably aligning with the polite majority of people who behave as if the choice is between candor and insensitive rudeness. When it comes time to choose, they generally lean toward avoiding being seen as rude or as having bad manners. The result is that they are often dishonest, at least somewhat. Personal integrity is partially sacrificed to the god of good manners. When you are thus tempted, Cesare Pavese's observation is worth considering, "Perfect behavior is born of complete indifference."

Perhaps the real issue isn't your honesty, your integrity, or your manners. Rather, it is your discomfort with how you fear others will react to you if you actually say what you think, accurately express your feelings, and practice the candor you profess to value so highly. Often the issue is dealing with the bad manners of other people. As Gabirol put it, "The test of good manners is to be patient with bad ones." the famous Anon. expressed the idea this way, "Treat everyone with politeness, even those who are rude to you - not because they are nice, but because you are;" and F. Scott Fitzgerald said, "It's not a slam at you when people are rude - it's a slam at the people they've met before." The best conclusion is that there is never a good excuse for bad manners and that "situational integrity" isn't integrity at all. Calmly and respectfully stand up, speak up, shut up, and sit down and then politely listen, making it immediately evident that you indeed are nice.

Now you know so there you go.

"It may be years before anyone knows if what you are doing is right. But if what you are doing is nice, it will be immediately evident." -- P.J. O'Rourke

The idea seems to be that good manners can and often do cover up the proverbial multitude of sins. As Arthur Schopenhauer put it, "Politeness is to human nature what warmth is to wax." It may quickly distort or otherwise transform reality. What seems sincere may merely be the latest example of Abel Stevens' observation, "Politeness is the art of choosing among one's real thoughts." The point is that in an effort to "be nice," candor can easily take a backseat to what Emily Post described as "a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others." The desire not to upset or offend takes priority over the responsibility to be honest and straightforward.

Of course, W. Somerset Maugham did say, "I don't think you want too much sincerity in society. It would be like an iron girder in a house of cards." And Lord Halifax said, "A man that should call everything by its right name would hardly pass the streets without being knocked down as a common enemy." The conclusion follows that there is an appropriate, middle ground between total honesty and bad manners. One should find that balance between excessive rudeness and being unnecessarily impolite on the one hand and knavery or excessive dishonesty on the other.

Are you tempted to agree with this argument? If so, you are probably aligning with the polite majority of people who behave as if the choice is between candor and insensitive rudeness. When it comes time to choose, they generally lean toward avoiding being seen as rude or as having bad manners. The result is that they are often dishonest, at least somewhat. Personal integrity is partially sacrificed to the god of good manners. When you are thus tempted, Cesare Pavese's observation is worth considering, "Perfect behavior is born of complete indifference."

Perhaps the real issue isn't your honesty, your integrity, or your manners. Rather, it is your discomfort with how you fear others will react to you if you actually say what you think, accurately express your feelings, and practice the candor you profess to value so highly. Often the issue is dealing with the bad manners of other people. As Gabirol put it, "The test of good manners is to be patient with bad ones." the famous Anon. expressed the idea this way, "Treat everyone with politeness, even those who are rude to you - not because they are nice, but because you are;" and F. Scott Fitzgerald said, "It's not a slam at you when people are rude - it's a slam at the people they've met before." The best conclusion is that there is never a good excuse for bad manners and that "situational integrity" isn't integrity at all. Calmly and respectfully stand up, speak up, shut up, and sit down and then politely listen, making it immediately evident that you indeed are nice.

Now you know so there you go.

Here's how to play the Match Game. Hold the match, ready to strike. Whether you burn that bridge is now in your control.

"Pick battles big enough to matter, small enough to win." -- Jonathan Kozol

In the realm of life's little lessons, this seems axiomatic. The problem is that many of the battles that are big enough to matter aren't small enough to win; and those that are small enough to win tend not to matter. The challenge is in knowing when to fight and when to walk away. Kozol's advice is to fight if the outcome matters and you can win, otherwise walk away. Although this is certainly a practical approach to self-preservation, it's also a clear cop out. There are battles that matter way too much to avoid, even though winning is far from certain.

The more important lesson may be in David Russell's observation, "The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn." Life is full of conflicts and tensions, battles large and small, bridges to cross and bridges to burn. Life is a journey; and usually, when it isn't working out, you can change direction, back up and start again, and generally change your plans. Now and then, though, the bridge has burned and there is no turning back, nothing to do but live with the choices you have made.

No, there isn't an easy way to know when to cross that bridge and when to let it burn, when to be decisive and when to equivocate, when to hold back and when to make an irreversible choice. However, there are questions that you can ask and answer before choosing.

1. "Am I burning any bridges by making this choice?"

2. "Are the bridges being burned ones over which I may want to cross again?"

3. "If I cannot cross a bridge again, what will I do instead, if the time comes when doing something else is necessary?"

4. "If I cross this bridge, how will I handle it, if things don't work out as I hope they will?"

5. "How will I be worse off if I neither cross the bridge ahead of me nor burn the one behind me, including the lost opportunity cost?"

So, you have asked the questions. You have answered the questions. What next? Stand up straight, take a deep breath, and deal with that bridge. Cross it; burn it; take a different road; but whatever you choose, don't forget the old Chinese proverb, "Talk doesn't cook rice."

Now you know so there you go.

Here's how to play the Match Game. Hold the match, ready to strike. Whether you burn that bridge is now in your control.

"Pick battles big enough to matter, small enough to win." -- Jonathan Kozol

In the realm of life's little lessons, this seems axiomatic. The problem is that many of the battles that are big enough to matter aren't small enough to win; and those that are small enough to win tend not to matter. The challenge is in knowing when to fight and when to walk away. Kozol's advice is to fight if the outcome matters and you can win, otherwise walk away. Although this is certainly a practical approach to self-preservation, it's also a clear cop out. There are battles that matter way too much to avoid, even though winning is far from certain.

The more important lesson may be in David Russell's observation, "The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn." Life is full of conflicts and tensions, battles large and small, bridges to cross and bridges to burn. Life is a journey; and usually, when it isn't working out, you can change direction, back up and start again, and generally change your plans. Now and then, though, the bridge has burned and there is no turning back, nothing to do but live with the choices you have made.

No, there isn't an easy way to know when to cross that bridge and when to let it burn, when to be decisive and when to equivocate, when to hold back and when to make an irreversible choice. However, there are questions that you can ask and answer before choosing.

1. "Am I burning any bridges by making this choice?"

2. "Are the bridges being burned ones over which I may want to cross again?"

3. "If I cannot cross a bridge again, what will I do instead, if the time comes when doing something else is necessary?"

4. "If I cross this bridge, how will I handle it, if things don't work out as I hope they will?"

5. "How will I be worse off if I neither cross the bridge ahead of me nor burn the one behind me, including the lost opportunity cost?"

So, you have asked the questions. You have answered the questions. What next? Stand up straight, take a deep breath, and deal with that bridge. Cross it; burn it; take a different road; but whatever you choose, don't forget the old Chinese proverb, "Talk doesn't cook rice."

Now you know so there you go.

"When your intelligence don't tell you something ain't right, your conscience gives you a tap on the shoulder and says ‘Hold on.' If it don't, you're a snake." As one might expect, Carl Jung expressed Presley's folk wisdom in somewhat more formal language; but the idea is the same, "Through pride we are ever deceiving ourselves. But deep down below the surface of the average conscience a still, small voice says to us, 'Something is out of tune.'" Christopher Reeve also heard that inner voice, "I think we all have a little voice inside us that will guide us. It may be God, I don't know. But I think that if we shut out all the noise and clutter from our lives and listen to that voice, it will tell us the right thing to do."

The recurring belief is that the voice of conscience is ever-present and far less fallible than the voice of reason. For example, Josh Billings asserted, "Reason often makes mistakes but conscience never does." Jean-Jacques Rousseau made the same point this way, "Reason deceives us often; conscience never." Although stated less dogmatically, Joseph Cook agreed with Billings and Rousseau, "Conscience is our magnetic compass; reason our chart."

Unfortunately, that little voice may not be quite the totally reliable key to recognizing the good and right some say it is. Samuel Butler pointed out, "Conscience is thoroughly well-bred and soon leaves off talking to those who do not wish to hear it." As it turns out, conscience has an attitude. If you don't pay attention to it, it may just stop paying attention to you. Were that not problem enough, what conscience is saying isn't always clear. You can listen and still struggle to understand. As William Dean Howells pointed out, "The difficulty is to know conscience from self-interest."

Conscience and reason are having a fight. They go back and forth all through the night. It's a right to the nose and a left to the chin. When morning comes, they start over again.

Reason says that it makes perfect sense. It's trying to nudge you off of the fence. The tug of conscience is hard to abide. It's pulling you hard to the other side.

You sway back and forth, first left and then right. Do you do what makes sense or do what seems right? Conscience gives you a pull, then reason a push. If this isn't resolved, you'll be dumped on your tush.

Does reason prevail or does the little voice win? Do you take one on the nose or one on the chin? Either way you go, it doesn't feel good. Do you do what makes sense or do what you should?

Calm yourself and try to unwind. Take a deep breath and make up your mind. Do you go with what you think or with that little voice? It's up to you; and you live with your choice.

Now you know so there you go.

"When your intelligence don't tell you something ain't right, your conscience gives you a tap on the shoulder and says ‘Hold on.' If it don't, you're a snake." As one might expect, Carl Jung expressed Presley's folk wisdom in somewhat more formal language; but the idea is the same, "Through pride we are ever deceiving ourselves. But deep down below the surface of the average conscience a still, small voice says to us, 'Something is out of tune.'" Christopher Reeve also heard that inner voice, "I think we all have a little voice inside us that will guide us. It may be God, I don't know. But I think that if we shut out all the noise and clutter from our lives and listen to that voice, it will tell us the right thing to do."

The recurring belief is that the voice of conscience is ever-present and far less fallible than the voice of reason. For example, Josh Billings asserted, "Reason often makes mistakes but conscience never does." Jean-Jacques Rousseau made the same point this way, "Reason deceives us often; conscience never." Although stated less dogmatically, Joseph Cook agreed with Billings and Rousseau, "Conscience is our magnetic compass; reason our chart."

Unfortunately, that little voice may not be quite the totally reliable key to recognizing the good and right some say it is. Samuel Butler pointed out, "Conscience is thoroughly well-bred and soon leaves off talking to those who do not wish to hear it." As it turns out, conscience has an attitude. If you don't pay attention to it, it may just stop paying attention to you. Were that not problem enough, what conscience is saying isn't always clear. You can listen and still struggle to understand. As William Dean Howells pointed out, "The difficulty is to know conscience from self-interest."

Conscience and reason are having a fight. They go back and forth all through the night. It's a right to the nose and a left to the chin. When morning comes, they start over again.

Reason says that it makes perfect sense. It's trying to nudge you off of the fence. The tug of conscience is hard to abide. It's pulling you hard to the other side.

You sway back and forth, first left and then right. Do you do what makes sense or do what seems right? Conscience gives you a pull, then reason a push. If this isn't resolved, you'll be dumped on your tush.

Does reason prevail or does the little voice win? Do you take one on the nose or one on the chin? Either way you go, it doesn't feel good. Do you do what makes sense or do what you should?

Calm yourself and try to unwind. Take a deep breath and make up your mind. Do you go with what you think or with that little voice? It's up to you; and you live with your choice.

Now you know so there you go.