How To Break a Canadian Man

It's 2017. I was just about in the best shape of my life, the day we headed for the airport. I work out. I have a physical "job," helping a friend renovate his house. (I had recently declared myself retired...never worked harder, or longer, or for less in my life.)

It's about 24 hours of travel from our home in Victoria, BC, Canada to our destination in Osaka, Japan. By the time we land in Osaka, my family (Noah 12, Hana 10, Junko stuck at "40-ish") looks ready for bed—hospital beds. 

The bruised bags under my wife's eyes are so large that they count as carry-on. She's smiling, but fifteen years into this marriage I know better than to ask how she's doing. Both of the kids  look like limp zombie noodles and are dragging their backpacks along the ground. Noah feels sick. He's so prone to motion sickness that I'm afraid to mention that the earth spins. Last trip, he threw up once each hour, then one final time on the doorstep of the hotel. This time, he managed to hold out until the wheels touched ground and bounced his lunch into a paper bag. All three of them look like prisoners of war who've gone three rounds with Mike Tyson.

I'm tired but not overly so, and feel justifiably proud of how well I've endured, but not too cocky. My wife is 12 years younger than me. By tomorrow morning she and the kids will have bounced back, ready for another round. I am the liability. I'm nearing sixty and even though I take care of myself so that I don't often get sick or injured, when I do, I don't bounce back so much as crawl.

The first eight days continue to go well for me. We are touring...walking a lot, every day. The kids get bored, tired and sore. Both of my wife's feet are covered in blisters, effectively crippling her by the end. But I am completely fine.

Then we move from a hotel to her family's home—from fast food to home cooking, from noisy Osaka streets to quiet rural lanes but, most significantly for me, from plush, foamy comfortable beds, to thin futons on hard tatami mats.

This is not my first trip to Japan and, when I was younger, I was surprised at how comfortable the futons were and wondered why we, in the West, choose to complicate the simple matter of lying down to the point of needing bed frames, boxsprings, sprung mattresses with foam toppers, and headboards.

That was then.

Now...

I awake from that first fitful night's sleep achy and hobbled, like a 90-year-old man. I have to spend ten minutes stretching under the covers to limber up in preparation for rising from the futon.

Overnight, the temperature has spiked from a tolerable 27ºC (81ºF) to over 30ºC (86ºF). And those last 3 degrees must be the hottest ones because suddenly my pores erupt like geysers. I take a cold shower which offers about ten minutes of relief before the sun kicks into high gear. By 9am, it's sweltering and so am I.

It's hotter inside the house than out, so I find a place in the shade and sit on a nice soft rock and read a book. From time to time I strut about with my arms stretched wide like the saviour I am not, in order to air my armpits. That night, I dream of snow cones and penguins.

Over the next few days, my body adjusts somewhat and I no longer find the futon uncomfortably hard. It's probably because I am now uncomfortably hot. Sleep rises to just below oxygen on my list of health priorities. Deny me a good night's rest and my condition collapses like a pyramid of cards. I am now the only one of us with bags under the eyes.

Three days later, the mercury plummets and it begins to rain. Like most Japanese houses, this one has no central heat. Ever practical, the Japanese prefer to heat their bodies, instead of the entire house. For this purpose, the living room has a table set into a sunken area under which is a nice warm space heater. From the edges of the table hangs a thick blanket (kotatsu) to retain the heat. Regular trips to this area become routine, topping up our heat reserves, like Roombas charging their batteries.

The two warmest places in the house are the kotasu and the heated toilet seat. But now I'm wearing long underwear, and sitting on the toilet is a comfort trade off.

Such cold weather so early in the year is unusual and so we are not truly prepared. We all have only one long-sleeved shirt and one pair of long pants which, as luck would have it, had just been washed the night before we woke up to rain. They are now hanging in our unheated bedroom, insulated from the outside cold and humidity by walls of paper, as are we.

Machine dryers are not common in Japan. Japanese houses are more cramped for space than American houses and, in the past, this was the main reason. But, these days, the dryer can be stacked or even built into the washer itself. Yet they are still not popular. Several years ago, a large Japanese manufacturer made a marketing push to sell clothes dryers. The push failed and now, it's even hard to find one in a store. I'm not entirely certain why, but I'd guess that it has something to do with the Japanese work ethic. No Japanese housewife wants to be accused of laziness, and one of the most visible signs that she's hardworking is loads of laundry out on the line, each day. If the lines stay clear, then the neighbours would know that she had a labour-saving device. Tongues might wag. Strengthening my case is the fact that where clothes dryers failed, dishwashers are selling well. A neighbour might see that you have one, but can't know whether or not you use it. 

As a practical matter, however, it would be a great benefit to be able to dry clothes during the rainy months of the year. Japanese houses aren't spacious to begin with, let alone when festooned with wet laundry. As well, I don't appreciate having my saggy underwear on display. Nor do I appreciate seeing my father-in-law's.

Until the weather turns, our attire will be the same indoors as out. Beneath my windbreaker, I am wearing three t-shirts and three pairs of socks. Additionally, my wife is bundled in an old down jacket of hers that she found in the storage room.

Two days after this, the sun comes out to play. We're all in our pyjamas for a morning, waiting for our clothes to dry on the line. By noon, we are fully and appropriately clothed for the first time in a week.

I'm still stiff and sore and so decide to take a nice long walk which, along with sleep, has always been a secret weapon to cure all that ails me. The added benefit of a walk is that none of my family members are interested in coming with me. It's a glorious three hours of quiet back-road exploration. I return home feeling renewed.

That night, all the muscles which I thought would be limber and relaxed start tightening. I am unable to find a comfortable sleeping position. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning and cursing the tiny wheat-filled pillow, my entire back seizes up. I decide it might be easier to sleep sitting up and wander the house looking for a comfy chair. 

Japan laughs.

This is a typical Japanese house. The only chairs are the stiff wooden ones at the dining room table. Other than that, I have my pick of places to sit on the floor. Sitting cross-legged on a floor, I have found, is not something you can adapt to in just a few weeks. It requires the lengthening of crotch tendons, strengthening of ancillary back muscles and, I theorize, you also have to somehow raise your blood pressure enough for blood to blast its way through between your own fat and a hard floor, and around the tight corners created at your joints when performing human origami. Typically, I sit at a Japanese table the way clothes tumble in dryers...constantly reconfiguring to take the strain off of muscles I never knew I had, and to let blood reenter my butt cheeks.

I slide my body under the kotastu. At least I'm in a sitting position without having to fold my legs and I'm warm. The room is small, so the walls are not far away. I could keep my legs under the blanket for warmth and slump against the closest wall. But it's a sliding wall/door, and largely made of paper. It rattles in its tracks like a tambourine, and if I put any real weight on it I'll likely fall right through. There are puffy seat cushions strewn about the room. I grab one and put it on the table as a pillow.

The last time I look at the wall clock it is 5:00am and miraculously, mercifully, after that somehow I fall asleep. I drift off wondering how many people have farted into that pillow.

There are currently nine of us crammed into this 1500 square foot abode and two of them are my nephews; young,  single men with active social lives. Two others are farmers who rise so early that they annoy roosters. Each day, quiet lasts only a few hours. The rest of the time the household creaks, bangs, and rattles with movement. I am awoken at 6:30am by the explosion of morning activity as everyone gets ready for school or work. They're all headed to the breakfast table. The nephews have snapped photos of me asleep in a puddle of my own drool to show their friends.

I try to lift my body from under the living room table and discover that beyond the cluster of aches and pains I went to sleep with, the heels of my feet are deeply bruised from the long walk. I grit my teeth and hobble to the bathroom.

The most positive thought I can generate is that there are few body parts left to fail.

I haven't had butter, cheese, or Tim Horton's in five weeks.

I am a broken Canadian man.

Why Having Friends is Essential to Your Relationship

   As a person existing among humans, it is important to me that YOU have a close friend. If you are a monk, living alone in a cave, you may not need one. But, otherwise, close friends play an essential role in maintaining your mental health from which stems your happiness, from which stems my willingness to exist next to you. And, if you are in a long-term relationship with me, then having your own set of close friends is essential. Here is why...

We are all social:

   If you participate in society in any way, then you are, by definition, part of it. You benefit from it by having such things as sewers, electricity, medical insurance, and law and order. No single person who relies on these benefits can say that most of what they have is a result of their own efforts. Your standard of living is a result of the effort of a large group, over aeons of time. To arrive at your lofty station in life, you had the initial advantage of starting at the top of a long ladder that was built before you were born.
   A byproduct of being a part of a society is the emotionally supportive network of friendship, commonly referred to as a social network. Friendship is a system of emotional and sometimes physical support that covers areas not addressed by the social system; things like personal tragedies, or property losses not covered by insurance.
   But, for a social system to work everyone has to contribute.
   In the official safety net system, you contribute money (in the form of fees and taxes) and time (voting, public service) to keep it all working smoothly. It is in your best interests that the system continues to function. Most people recognize this. However, some fail to see that the ancillary network of friendship needs maintenance, as well. In this secondary social system, if you don't contribute then you don't benefit. This will become apparent whenever you have a personal loss not covered by the system like the failure of a marriage or the unexpected loss of a job. Such transitions can be a crushing blow to self-esteem and ego and coping can be an overwhelming task. The weight of such burdens on the psyche is dangerously high and it's more easily and gracefully handled with the support of others. As well, finding a new partner or job typically relies on your personal connections.
   Few strangers who are active participants in the social network will have much empathy for the plight of an antisocial loner. Few would go out of their way to help or support such a person, especially if they are competing against another who is actively social. If you are emotionally removed from all of society, then this can be frustrating on many levels and it is easy to feel isolated (which you are) and from there to fall into depression and anger.
   Flipping this argument over, in the most extreme cases, your personal safety may be dependent on knowing and emotionally supporting your neighbour. It is often those who have no emotional support or ties to the social network who eventually vent their unhappiness in violent ways.

Friendship is essential for long-term relationships:
   If you are in a longterm relationship then having close friends is essential. Perhaps you are not a social person and don't see the need to socialize. Well, guess what: firstly, you receive benefits from a larger society and therefore, like it or not, you are part of it. Secondly, if you are in a committed relationship, then you just signed up for a lifetime of very intimate socializing. At the very least, as a favour to your spouse (and/or children), you need to get an honest outside perspective, from time to time. As well, though philosophically I am opposed to comparing oneself to others, it helps to have a peek into other relationships to get new ideas about handling conflict and unmet expectations. And, though I’m ashamed to admit it, my baser self often derives satisfaction from discovering that I have it better than others.
   Since you have committed to a longterm relationship, you have committed to a long-term friendship. Successes and failures with your shorter-term friends will teach you how to become a better friend to your spouse. There is no safer way to learn. If your only honest relationship is with your spouse, then you are running social experiments on your own life. It's like a scientist experimenting on himself. Failure can be fatal.
   The corollary to this is that if you meet someone who has no close friends, entering into a long-term relationship with that person is a risk to your own long-term happiness.

Perspective is essential to happiness:
   A close friend will help you maintain a healthy perspective by playing devil's advocate and pointing out flaws in your point of view. Without ever hearing counter-arguments, it is easy to believe that you have factored in all the possibilities and come to the only logical conclusion and that you are, therefore, entirely correct. If you have no close friends, then you may easily come to the conclusion that you are always correct. From an outsider's point of view, you will seem unapproachable, harsh and inflexible. In truth, you are close-minded.
   It has been studied and determined that people who are incompetent are unable to gauge their own competence and are, therefore, blind to it. If you believe this for people less competent than yourself, then, logically, it should apply to yourself as well, when you are viewed by someone more competent. Every one of us has areas of talent and skill as well as gaps in our gifts and experience. Therefore, every one of us in incompetent in some area or at some level.
   A close friend will help you recognize your limits. Knowing this will save you from overestimating your own abilities which will help you steer clear of failure and embarrassment.

Family is ineligible:
   It is important that your intimate friend not be a member of your family because that connection is too close and too permanent. Because a family member cannot easily be disconnected from the rest of your family (which is a social network that, for better or worse, you are stuck with) things you confide, if leaked, will haunt you forever. The risk for you may be too high to be truly honest with that person. Conversely, a family member may feel that the price of telling you the truth as they see it may be too high because they risk you disliking them forever. Additionally, keeping the secrets you share may put family members in the uncomfortable position of lying to other family members. And, finally, because they are permanent fixtures in your life, they are not easily lost to you and so, do not have as much to teach you about maintaining a friendship.
   For a variety of reasons, few friends remain close forever and, in some ways, it is this very transience that makes them valuable. Because the relationship is trust-based yet fragile, a close friend must be honest and yet they must also be understanding and encouraging; tactful enough to slide harsh truths into a conversation without activating our natural emotional defences, like denial.
   I am relatively unsocial and do not have a large social network, beyond my family, which is often overwhelming. But I have always had one or two close personal friends. We exchange services. I listen to them and do my best to give back non-judgemental encouraging or insightful feedback and they do the same for me. Because they have a little distance from my most personal concerns, I can trust that they have no agenda beyond helping me and are able to see my situation in ways that I can not. They are not directly impacted by my behaviour, so they are not desperate to make their point and can nudge, rather than shove, me in the right direction, allowing me the time stumble on the obvious truth on my own, thus circumventing my own denial. Family members usually do not feel that they can afford to be so patient because behaviour they view as negative affects them every day. Further, they live in fear that you may never understand what they are saying and that they will have to live with your attitude or actions forever. Many domestic disputes are more about the future than the moment and this is why they get so emotional, so quickly. Most of us can endure greedy/illogical/ignorant behaviour for a moment, but the threat inherent in a long-term relationship is enduring it forever.

But wait, there's more...

   Beyond all of this, there is a sheer visceral pleasure in sharing alternate ideas, confessing anxieties, unburdening guilts, and even gossiping in emotional safety, with a like-minded individual.

   How you find such a friend, I can not say. Mine have always been unexpected gifts. Maybe the only secret is to wait and to be open to the idea. The only thing I can say is that they will be of your "tribe." This means that they will share one of your passions. I have two close friends, at the moment. Reducing it to simplest terms: one shares my passion for understanding people, the other shares my passion for writing. These are not the only subjects upon which we connect, but they were the core of the foundation upon which we built trust, from which was spawned a close friendship.
   Above all, a close friend helps you maintain perspective; to know your position in the world. It is both empowering and humbling, and perhaps, the largest key to sanity and happiness.


Clipnotes:

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WMDbooks.com

Slices of Laugh: Humorist William M. Dean has been compared to Mark Twain and Dave Barry, in gender. Here are 34 hilarious anecdotes and articles offering his unique perspective on far-flung subjects ranging from life, family, parenting, sex, intimacy, arguments, stealing your neighbor’s water, Japan, clothes dryer repair, violence, drugs, pets, sex again, aging, writing, couponing, Disneyland, scouting, dining with the Queen of England, and more.

     A refreshingly wholesome, uplifting read, perfect for when you’re waiting for your nails to dry, your server to stop texting, your doctor to retrieve an implement, your lover to finish, or to hide behind while following a suspect in a busy terminal. Lots of chuckles, keen observations, pearls of wisdom and nearly 100 funny pictures.

The Space Between Thought: A novel of love, life, death, tea, and time travel.

Simon Sykes has money and power. He has Celeste, a beautiful, talented, and devoted girlfriend. And secretly, he has his pick of other women on the side. But Celeste’s sudden death deals him a staggering blow. It looks like suicide, but only Simon saw the ghostly figure at the scene of the crime. Plagued by grief and guilt, he vows to uncover the truth at any cost. While his business languishes and friends grow concerned for his sanity, Simon stumbles upon a secret that promises the power to unravel the mystery and undo one life-altering moment, to save Celeste and restore his future—time travel.

Meanwhile, Simon's suspicious behavior has renewed police interest. As the authorities close in, Simon wrestles with time, space, and reality to rescue the love of his life, unmask her true killer, and remodel his world.

I Married Japan: The hilarious journey of Japan into one man’s life

Think you just married an exotic Japanese woman? Wrong!  In fact, you just married all of exotic Japan and 3000 years of history. But, the die is cast, the adventure’s begun, and the wonders and wondering will never cease.Throw in a couple of kids and a quirky Canadian family filled with characters, and you have the makings of epic tragedy, or gut-busting comedy, depending upon your point of view.

Get ready to learn, and be prepared to laugh your way through this collection of Japan-related articles on family life with the Deans!

The Book of 5 Uncredible Short Stories from the distorted mind of William M. Dean

If, all of your life, you have been desperately seeking a book filled with aliens, maniacal sheep, cupids and other mythical creatures—then your life is sad and you are misguided, to say the least. However, luck is with you and within these pages, you will find far-fetched stories from far-flung realities, told with exaggeration that amplifies truths, and adjectives that modify nouns. This is a work of fiction and has been scrupulously edited to exclude all fact so as not to distract you from all those aliens, maniacal sheep, cupids and postal workers you were looking for. For the rest of you, there is at least one stunningly good-looking woman and some cute cats.

Kidney Stoned

It's 4 AM. I'm on all fours dry-wretching into the toilet, praying to gods I've only heard of in Disney movies. I'm giving birth to a kidney stone.

Of course, I don't know this. I think that I am probably dying, but I want to do it quietly because tomorrow is my daughter's tenth birthday party and my wife has worked very hard all week to bring it together, including redecorating the house and backyard, and a cake with whipped cream, mango and marshmallow decorations custom made to look like exotic flowers. She baked two trial cakes, earlier this week, and the backyard is full of contests and games to rival the summer Olympics. There's even a  small podium. I'm worried that she's fantasizing about our daughter's wedding day.

Test cake #2

Everyone needs their sleep. I'll cope.

Finally, at about 5am, I take a couple of Tylenol. Normally, I resist doing this, because I don't want to mask any important symptoms. But, at this point, all I can think is "Mask the symptoms! Mask the symptoms, quickly!"

I manage a fitful sleep and am awoken at 7 by my excited daughter who instantly notes the deep circles under my eyes and that I am shaking, pale and clammy and asks, worriedly, "Even if you're sick, I still get to have my birthday party, right?"

I answer, "Of course, baby." and am filled with warm fuzzies as she dances up and down, clapping her hands and laughing. Then she says, "And dad..."

"Yes, darling."

"Please don't embarrass me by having a seizure or something in front of my friends."

"I won't, my angel."

Shortly afterward, my wife arises. The pills have already worn off and the pain is back, full force. I put on my most Clint Eastwood face and declare that I will power through, but she insists we head to the hospital, as I was hoping she would. If we are lucky, we can be home well before the party starts.

We are lucky.

It's not a busy day in the ER, but waiting with us are a number of people who make me feel very lucky that, though I may be dying, I am doing it slowly and with a small degree of dignity.

A woman is brought in, in a wheelchair. She has a huge gash across her face and a black eye. She is pretty—if you discount the injuries—well dressed, and looks intelligent and sophisticated. She's quietly sniffing back the blood leaking from her nose and holding an ice pack against a swollen cheek even as her husband, the one who apparently inflicted the damage, loudly berates the staff for not attending to her fast enough. Eventually, he is removed by security. After that, she seems to relax a bit and tries to make small talk with me in an effort to distract me from my pain. Her situation seems completely incongruous, but she's obviously been here before and is inured to her own suffering and humiliation.

Now, I feel like a three-year-old complaining about hurt feelings.

I feel guilty when I am taken for a CAT scan ahead of her. Twenty minutes after my scan a young intern comes to tell me that I do, indeed, have a kidney stone. They can see from the CAT that it has almost passed. I deduce, from the pain, that it's the size of a tennis ball but he corrects me, saying that it's about .1cm across—so small that they missed it the first time they examined the scans. He says it should pass naturally, without any issues. He's seen people pass 2cm stones! What the hell-on-earth kind of people are these? I'd need an epidural for that! And afterward, I'd want a birth certificate.

A pretty nurse escorts me out of the ward and hands me a small envelope containing four Tylenol 3's which she says I can use if I am unable to handle the last few minutes of the pain. I want to play it cool and refuse them, but instead, I grab them out of her hand and rip open the package to make sure there are at least four, as she promised. I resist the urge to ask for more, maintaining some semblance of pride.  She smiles, patronizingly, and I hobble away, leaning heavily against my five-foot-two inch, 98-pound wife.

Halfway home, the pain vanishes.

My girl-child celebrates her tenth year without further incident and I am filled with thankfulness and appreciation: Surrounded by family, the sound of my beautiful daughter's laughter, the shining sun, the six surviving flowers in my garden and the two hundred dandelions in my lawn that are all blooming, the fresh air, and the fact that I am breathing it.

After saying goodbye to eight perpetually chatty and giggly preteens, I sit in the silence with a cup of tea, a good book close at hand, appreciating the lack of chaos and ruminating on the contrasts of the last 24 hours; the brush with mortality so close before a celebration of life.

As I open my book, I feel lucky to have survived. And, I feel a certain invulnerability, having just cheated death—or at least the feeling of death. I now understand true pain, and, in the process, have surely become inured to agony... or, at least, 16 hours of it. I briefly consider a career as a spy. From here on out, I will no longer be impressed by the mundane bumps and scrapes of everyday life...

"Argh! Papercut! Ssssssss. Ouch!"

"Honey, where do we keep the bandaids? And where did you put those Tylenol 3's?"

_______________________________


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Success & Happiness—50 Points to Ponder

No one on the planet has yet cracked the Life puzzle. We are all struggling in some way and there is no single "right way" to live. However, being chronically unhappy has got to be a wrong way.

There are people in my life who seem to have missed the happiness boat. The people I am thinking of have put in great effort to "make the grade," and yet, seem plagued by bad luck and are passed up for opportunities at every juncture. And, they have some other things in common—they are very intelligent, have their eyes fixed on social status and material goods, have a lot of expectations regarding the path that will lead them to these things, and they have a generally negative outlook.

These are good people and it's frustrating to watch them struggle, but I have come to the realization that I do not have the power to help them, beyond being supportive. If I were rich and powerful, I could pay their way forward, but this would rob them of challenges and victories, ultimately weakening them. Because it's easier to spot problems when they are not your own, I have shared some of my relevant observations but found that me targeting specifics really doesn't work. Life is complicated. People are complicated. The target is fuzzy because there is no single cause or effect. And realizations do not come from a single relevant thought, but through a long chain of connected ideas. As well, I am especially wary of being critical without also being constructive.

Most of us share similar shortcomings and frustrations, to a greater or lesser degree, and so a lot of the thoughts and observations I have formed while examining my own life.

I may not be able to help my friends, but on the off chance that someone else needs to hear what I have to say, I present a list of 50 observations regarding life, humans, society, material success and mental health. Somewhere among all of this, you may find some food for thought and, if luck is with you, perhaps something that nudges you closer to happiness.

Please note that none of these are meant to be critical, or as advice to anyone going through a mental health crisis. And, they are very compressed. If I chose to unpack them, that act would generate an entire book. These are, simply, points to ponder, meant to prompt constructive thoughts.

I have copied them onto "ponder point postcards," suitable for sharing on social media. Below that, I have included the raw text containing the same information (but broken into categories) for those who'd like to cut and paste into another format.

TEXT VERSION...

LIFE:
(1) If you live in a first-world country, then you are already wealthy and your ambition is simply a jockeying for position among the rich.

(2) Be humbled by what you have. It's more than any of us deserve and it comes at the expense of others less fortunate, and an abundant earth.

(3) It is more empowering to view chronic dissatisfaction as a sign that your perspective is skewed rather than as evidence that Life is unfair. There is nothing you can do about Life.

(4) Life is unfair—in your favor, as anyone living in a third-world country can tell you.

(5) Appreciate the moment. As bad as things may seem, it could always be worse.

(6) If you can solve it with time and money, and you have both, then be thankful. Needless worrying only adds your health to the price tag.

(7) Life takes unexpected turns. Smart as you are, you can not predict where events and decisions will lead. Fortunately, every juncture presents new opportunities. 

HUMANS:
(8) All the arguments in the world will not alter a person's behavior until they come to the same conclusion on their own. This applies equally to yourself.

(9) Balance: If you are never still,  your mind suffers. If you never move, your body suffers.

(10) Chronic negativity is a symptom of imbalance. Dark, brooding heroes are always unbalanced, and alone.

(11) Positive, enthusiastic people are perceived as balanced and fun and are offered the most opportunities.

(12) An emotional declaration of beliefs is a catalyst for an argument. It shuts down communication. Many who disagree with you may hold their tongues because they really don't care enough to have a knock-down, drag-out battle over the issue. Emotionally charged declarations also signal that you may harshly judge anyone who opposes you. No one likes to be judged. No one likes to feel shame for what they believe.

(13) When people suspect they may be shamed for their opinions, they are reluctant to share them. Thus, in an emotionally-charged setting, a lack of opposition is not a clear sign of agreement.

(14) Allowing that you might be wrong provides space for others to freely express themselves. This tends to generate more options and better choices, as well as reflecting better on you.

(15) Being wrong is better than being a know-it-all.

(16) As I understand it, God is all about your spiritual self and has no interest in earthly, material things. When it comes to your perceived lack of success, do not expect any help or sympathy from God. Relying on God in this way is debilitating.


SOCIETY & BUSINESS:
(17) Society is less a meritocracy than a popularity contest. Business is a subset of society and, therefore, also a popularity contest.

(18) Society is all about getting along. It is not focused on right answers. This is why people can be successful without actually ever being right, or competent. The most popular person is usually preferred over the best-qualified. The least disturbing answer is usually preferred over the most accurate answer. The number one goal of a society is to not rock the boat, regardless of its course. This is why whistleblowers are rarely rewarded and often punished.

(19) It is not reasonable to rail against a society, or stand outside of it, and expect it to reward you. Societies reward those who contribute and endorse and help to steady the boat. This is true of all societies: businesses, foundations, families, churches, countries...

(20) Success within a society is a combination of opportunity, luck and the people you know. If you are willing to use what you are given of each of these, you have a shot. If some value within you prevents you from using people and opportunities that present themselves, then you can only hope for lucky breaks.

(21) Success in business usually involves health and lifestyle compromises that most of us are unwilling to make. A lack of progress in that arena may have more to do with your core values than your abilities.

(22) What is traditionally considered to be success might not be a rewarding goal for you. There is absolutely no shame in this. Success in business is no indicator of mental, emotional, spiritual or physical health—or of happiness.

(23) Sheer genius can be a short cut to success. But, genius is obsessive, compulsive, greedy and unbalanced. If you are not willing to be all of these things, then you have no chance of achieving success through genius alone.

(24) Obvious enthusiasm is a door-opener. Justified or not, a lack of enthusiasm is a door-closer.

(25) If you must point out problems, then be armed with solutions to combat the negativity.

(26) As we age, many of the attributes of successful business people are lost to wisdom.

SUCCESS:
(27) Most of us want the respect and admiration of our peers. Social status is commonly considered an undeniable sign of success. But, it only comes if you achieve what your peers believe to be important. Unfortunately, those goals may not be yours. If you crave the approval of the masses but do not believe what they believe, then you really do not want what you wish you wanted.

(28) Good health should be a primary goal in life. Poor health diminishes your
ability to enjoy life, regardless of your tax bracket. Compromising their health is a common sacrifice people make for material success through years of long hours, obsessive habits,
neglecting relationships, disrupted sleeping patterns, and a lack of physical exercise.

(29) After health, happiness is the only meaningful goal. Happiness is the emotional by-product of appreciating what you have.

(30) Happiness is the only true measure of success; not social status, not wealth, not beauty. Without happiness, none of those things matter. Many people achieve success in business, social status and material things. Fewer achieve happiness.

YOU:
(31) You can lie to the rest of the world, but always be honest with yourself.

(32) Be careful what you choose to believe. Your beliefs are your reality.

(33) Be grateful, always. Acknowledging your blessings maintains a healthy perspective.

(34) The longer in life you remain "all about you" the less compatible you become with your peers, and the worse things get.

(35) Prolonged self-centeredness is debilitating and dangerous and can lead to mental illness.

(36) To be chronically depressed you must be chronically thinking only of yourself.

(37) Martyrdom is adult whining.

(38) Do not wait for help. No one will rescue you.

(39) Perpetually unhappy or negative people make it more difficult for those around them to be happy. People (and therefore, opportunity) will tend to maintain a distance.

(40) If you're banging your head against a rock, it's useless to blame the rock for being hard. Life, society, people are not going to change to accommodate you. If you are chronically unsatisfied, then you need to adjust your thinking. Any change must come from you.

(41) When you look for blame outside yourself, there is no end to the blame. When things go wrong, it is constructive to identify and acknowledge your share of the blame—even if only to yourself. Recognizing your share of responsibility/failure in a situation allows you to learn and move forward.

(42) Being critical of others has a built-in karmic rebound effect. If you are hypercritical of others, you will believe that others are hypercritical of you. Indirectly, you are placing unrealistic expectations in your own path.

(43) Hypercritical people are afraid of consequences and tend to panic, trying to foresee problems, hoping to head them off before they escalate; jumping all over minor things that really just require time to even out. If this is you, try asking yourself: Will anybody die? A “no” answer will help you regain perspective and pull your mind away from the terror zone. Now, imagine the worst case. Mentally live through it, then work backward to the most likely case. Once you've envisioned the worst case, the probable reality usually seems much less threatening.

(44) If you are prone to panic, a great calming trick is to force yourself to walk very slowly. Most find that this almost instantly reduces stress and soothes the mind.

(45) Emotions are animal instinct—primarily intended to protect us, in the short term. Your initial reaction to a situation has only a 50/50 chance of being the best one.

(46) Your reaction to an event colors that event for you, as well as for those you encounter. In nature, there is no absolute good or bad, but the reactions of humans around us help define an event as either positive or negative. This is why sitcoms have laugh tracks.

(47) Life is gray. There is no single, best answer. Your version of "best" is formed by your unique combination of assumptions, experiences, priorities and agendas. You need to believe this to accept the wisdom of others.

(48) Listen in order to learn. If you are cutting other people off when they speak, then you are not truly listening; you are just mining for counterpoints rather than entertaining the alternate point of view.

(49) To strengthen your patience, it's a useful exercise to imagine a person higher up on the philosophical scale than yourself, like Gandhi or the Dalai Lama. Then imagine them having to deal with you. This may help you maintain perspective when dealing with people who not yet learned the lessons that you have.
(50) Find your tribe. You will be most comfortable if you can find the societal group into which you best fit. Your "tribe" will be people who share your perspective on life—possibly family, friends, co-workers or people with similar interests. Time spent amongst such people is affirming and energizing. (One quick and easy way to explore different social groups is through meetup.com)

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