Learning to SLOW down, Part III

When I graduated from high school, my soccer coach, John Dawson, gave me a book by UCLA basketball coach John Wooden called Wooden: A Lifetime of Observations and Reflections On and Off the Court. The note inside wished that I keep it to open up from time to time in moments of quandary for possible guidance. It was something my coach did.

That fall, I took the book with me to college and it lay by my bedside for a year and a half before I opened it one night looking for guidance to calm my nerves. It was January of my second year of college and I was about to start a brand-new publication, basically under my leadership. How I approached my leadership would set the tone for the whole publication and be directly tied to its success. Already late at night and needing to get a good night's rest, I sat on the edge of my bed and picked up the book.

Dawson had instructed me to open to a random page when I wanted some advice. My eyes just about popped out of my head as I read the section title I had opened to: "A Leader Can Be Led. " I read on: "Leaders are interested in finding the best way rather than having their own way. 'Because I said so' is a poor explanation for doing something. It's no reason."

This opening and the short passage became my silent motto as we proceeded with the publication and I did my best to take its advice.

This morning I woke from multiple busy dreams to pleasant sunshine and with no reason to rise from bed in any hurry, I turned to my stack of books beside the bed. Last night, I had just finished The Giver, my own version of the-book-I-read-when-I-want-to-remember-what-it-is-I'm-doing-with-my-life, and loved it all over again. In fact, I might just jump back into it for another quick read.

But that left me looking at the spines of my books, wanting to pick different one. I reached for my other easier read Juno & Juliet to relax back into my pillow, but Wooden sat on top and I eyed it once more: I could probably use some advice.

These were the four passages I turned to: "A Lesson on Emotion and Language," "A Reminder: Be True to Yourself," "Make Fate Your Friend," and "Young Folks, Old Folks." Every time I read I automatically heard Dawson's voice, instead of an unknown Wooden's.

The first passage was about controlling one's temper and minding your language, which is always good advice. The latter three, however, seemed even more appropriate. The passages talked about the times in life when big decisions are being made--with carrots dangling here and there--and when and how these decisions or change comes about.

"A Reminder: Be True to Yourself" was pretty self-explanatory--remember what you're trying to do and why you're doing it. "Make Fate Your Friend" talked about a snow storm effecting Wooden's coaching career--if the snow storm hadn't hit Minneapolis, Wooden wouldn't have coached for UCLA, and I wouldn't have this book in my hands.

The last talked about patience. Wooden wrote that youth is a time of impatience, but that old folks can't be too set in their ways either when it comes to making change. I focused on the impatient part. I'm used to making things happen quickly and efficiently, but I'm learning that when it comes to the bigger stuff, sometimes you've just got to be patient and see what fate has in store for you. I don't mean don't act, but sometimes the worry part of me deserves a rest when all I can do is wait.

I've been pondering a lot lately about getting what one wants, and wanting what one gets and my relationship to that idea. Again, I think Wooden knew exactly what I already knew, but needed to hear again: "I believe that things are directed in some sort of way. I'm not exactly sure how. I also believe that things turn out best for those who make the best of the way things turn out."

Maybe another piece in learning how to slow down. Thanks, John.