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Making
things happen - with integrity. A weekly CyberMemo designed to keep you on task. Monday May 14, 2001 Volume III Number 20 |
FOCUS - Instantaneous Synchonization
We Boomers don’t like rules.
We graying anti-establishment types never did appreciate it when anyone imposed some pre-determined program on us, restricting our options and treating us as though we were typical or average or commonplace or ordinary. From the start up until now, we Boomers continue to believe we are atypical, uncommon and extraordinary, and that there is no such thing as average.
It’s a generational thing.
But the values that made us Boomers a cultural phenom back then are fading away like the flowers painted on the side panel of a rusty old Volkswagen Microbus. Peace Love and Dove sound like tired slogans from some forgotten barefoot era when hair just grew, and clothes hung loose and underwear was deemed unnecessary. That trinitarian formula (Peace Love Dove) is no longer a guiding light to an entire generation. Things have changed.
Today. Today it’s a whole new world.
Each generation of parents makes a deliberate effort to correct the mistakes of their own upbringing, and the parents of Boomers were no different. Most Post-War parents got their direction from Dr. Spock. In the booming economy of the late forties and fifties and sixties, they determined to give their children plenty of everything. These new moms and dads were children of the depression. Their memories of deprivation were still fresh. They remembered the stories of hardship and loss and bankruptcies and joblessness and make-do. And with the joys of Victory on two fronts (East and West) in the Second World War, they went to work to provide a home complete with a stay-at-home mom, a refrigerator with an endless supply of cold milk and sugary Kool-Aid and after-school snacks … and that amazingly effective child care device: the television set. Most Boomers can remember the names of their favorite TV characters better than they can remember those of the kids in the neighborhood.
A study of the childhood experiences of Boomers and their parents is a study in contrast. Boomers in the fifties and sixties were indulged. Their parents, as children in the late twenties and thirties, were put to work. Boomers were coddled. Their parents were controlled. Boomers were pampered. Their parents learned to make-do. Austerity was a way of life. The by-word for Boomers was abundance.
Boomers crammed colleges demanding majors like social work and psychology and environmental studies and philosophy and forestry. They shunned business. They scorned the military industrial complex. They set fire to bank buildings and smashed new cars with sledgehammers and smoked pot in open fields to the heady strains of rock bands blasting away through electronic amplifiers. They traded in Norman Vincent Peale for Shirley MacLaine. They protested a nasty war and slippery politicians and the resource squandering and exploitation of global conglomerates and institutional oppression and became vociferous advocates of the Third World and communal living and egalitarianism. It wasn’t until they hit Thirtysomething that they started to think about the connection between work and wages and a house in the suburbs.
So in the late seventies and eighties, many Boomers traded in blue jeans and tie-dye and sandals for a three-piece business suit and a silk tie.
And now, these same Boomers are becoming grandparents.
It’s something of a surprise now for Boomers to see their own children bringing a whole different set of values to their children.
Their children want rules. Structure. Discipline. How-to. Upward mobility. Success. Pension plans.
Imagine that.
* * * * * * *
Enter Ellen Fein and Sherrie Schneider. The Rules Girls.
In 1995, with a first printing of a mere fifty thousand volumes, the first book co-authored by Fein and Schneider, The Rules: Time-Tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right, was expected to do marginally well in bookstores. Their seminars were popular and there seemed to be an audience eager for a revival of pre-feminist folklore about how it is that a man, since the beginning of time, is hopelessly and permanently attracted to a woman for a lifetime of blissful monogamy.
The two never dreamed that their little book would become a word of mouth runaway bestseller, fill stadiums with eager females paying forty five dollars a pop to hear the authors speak, form support groups around the world, see their book translated into multiple foreign languages and sign a hefty contract with a major Hollywood screen writer for the movie rights.
Who’d a thunk?
And this month, book two hit the bookstore shelves.
The original book goes frontal, in-your-face to years of women’s liberation from those old tired mores - almost like tattoos and facial jewelry and grunge rock would be to a Baptist parent. The Rules Girls tell women to subordinate their natural impulse to control the relationship. Let men initiate. Like Rule 5: Don't Call Him and Rarely Return His Calls. Or Rule 17: Let Him Take the Lead. Or Rule 20: Be Honest but Mysterious.
And now there’s a whole knew addendum.
Rules Girls Two - The Rules for Marriage: Time-Tested Secrets for
Making Your Marriage Work.
The
most surprising thing about the Rules Girls is not so much their assertion that
Grandma and Grandpa knew something about the dating game that contemporary men
and women have missed… it’s that their “Rules” are so readily gobbled
up by an eager generation hungry for direction.
But maybe that’s not surprising at all.
For several decades now, the prevailing American view is this: there are no norms. There are no standards for personal behavior. You make up your own rules. You make your own choices. You establish your own set of values. You are your own authority. The old sources of social standards are passé, and no longer relevant. The schools. The churches. The public institutions. The classics. All jaded and worn, exposed for their hypocrisies and inconsistencies, and unreliable as guideposts for contemporary life. And remember, if you do happen to land on some personal values; be sure that you do not impose them on others. This is a cardinal rule; for some the only rule left.
Is it any surprise really, that many young people drift aimlessly? Directionless? And ready for the Rules Girls?
* * * * * *
I picked up a new routine when I kick into consciousness before the morning alarm clock rings.
They tell me it’s my age. It’s a new life stage. Sleeping through the alarm hasn’t happened in years. Early in the morning, something clicks. The dream state screeches to an abrupt halt. My eyes open. And the day’s agenda hits me as though my mind is at one with the Palm Pilot. Instantaneous synchronization. I’ve been beamed. It’s time to think through the day’s priorities. Or is it?
If I don’t short-circuit the natural mental routine, I can quickly work myself up into an off-the-record morning cold sweat, just like the Psalmist. I’ll contemplate my failures. Or my fears. Or my misgivings. Or my shortcomings. Or my procrastinations. And pretty soon, I’m in my own little private pre-dawn frenzy. I don’t like it. It’s entirely counterproductive. So I’m always looking for some alternative to this latent psychic terror. I found one.
It’s a prayer. A four-part prayer. It works pretty well. Check it out.
First, I ask God to bless me. This is a relatively new idea, because, you see, I was raised to think this to be an entirely self-centered and inappropriate request. I ask God to bless others, no problem. I ask him to bless the missionaries because they really need it. And the pastor. And the sick. And the children. And those who need traveling mercies. And the homeless and those who suffer too, if I’m feeling particularly humanitarian. It’s an unselfish prayer to ask God to bless them, and I’ve had no problem praying for someone else.
But it’s a new thing for me to ask God to bless me.
Frankly, I pray it because it is what I really want. Gotta admit the truth here. I want to be blessed of God. Might as well ask for it.
Then, I ask that God will put his hand on me. For protection. For strength. For direction. I remember when my Dad used to put his arm around me. I don’t know how else to explain it. That momentary embrace met a basic need in my life, to know that the man who gave me the gift of life liked being there. I felt his strength. His confidence. His pride. It passed through. Like a gift. If it’s true that God is my Father, then I’d like that same affirming touch. I need it. Especially in the morning when terror strikes before sunrise.
The third request goes like this, “Lord, expand my territory.” I’m not talkin’ about sales territory here. I’m asking him to enlarge my sphere. My sphere of influence. My network. My sphere of understanding. My world of work. My world of service. Make it bigger. Give me opportunities today to increase… to penetrate… to touch new lives. To make a positive difference on a larger scale.
Finally, I move to my fourth request – God keep evil far away from me. I’ve been around for awhile now, and I’ve come to the conclusion that evil is for real, and when it affects me in one way or another, the outcome is no good. It’s always knocking on my door somehow, turning my head, causing me to reconsider my life’s priorities, tempting me to throw away my values and take some risky risks.
By the time I finish my little four part prayer in the wee small hours of the morning, when the whole wide world is fast asleep, I’m settled down. No night sweats. No psychic terror. No pre-dawn frenzy.
It’s an old formula prayer that for many years remained tucked away unnoticed in the Bible book of Chronicles, nestled sleepily in a long and bland genealogy (somewhere between Anub and Zobebah – and Chelub and Shuhah). Until Bruce Wilkerson wrote a little book telling the world about the Prayer of Jabez. And surprisingly, it’s another current New York Times bestseller. Right up there with the Rules Girls.
A couple of my pals are buying the little ninety-five page ten dollar volume and passing it out to their friends.
Not a bad idea.
* * * * * * *
It’s Monday morning. As a leader, you may have a thing about rules.
Trust me, I understand. I don’t like rules. I’m uncomfortable, even squeamish around legalists. Remember, I’m the quintessential Boomer.
But you know, guidelines and procedures and systems and common sense are mandatory ingredients to a smoothly running operation. Not only in the corporate environment, but in relationships, too. If you’ve got someone who doesn’t get it, and can’t seem to live within the boundaries, you need to take some initiative, and talk it through. Don’t be vague. Be direct.
And allow me to commend the simple prayer of Jabez that I learned from Wilkerson’s book. My guess is that deep down, you feel the same. You want God’s blessing. You’d like to feel his hand on your shoulder. You’d like to expand your territory. You need protection from the bad stuff out there.
Go ‘head. Ask for it.
You won’t be sorry.
© Copyright Kenneth E. Kemp 2001
Special Thanks to my good friend David Belcher, owner of Rhino Media Group and creator of WisdomGram
LeaderFOCUS is a service of Good Stewardship Associates
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