Posts Tagged ‘Preparedness’

American IdolMy wife and I have enjoyed watching American Idol for years.  I missed the first season, but have been a big fan since then.  Now that we’re into the phase where America votes weekly on who remains, I thought it might be nice to reflect on some of the many lessons that can come from watching this show.  Feel free to add your own in the comments.

1. People aren’t always as talented as they think they are.  The early episodes of every season are proof of this.  Some are just painful to hear.  William Hung, anyone?

2. Talent can be found in unexpected places.  I’m not talking geography here since people travel all over the country to these auditions.  I’m referring to the fact that a booming voice might come out of a soft-spoken, unkempt, homeless person nobody would ever suspect as a good singer.  File this one under “can’t judge a book by its cover.”

3. You need social skills in addition to talent.  The contestant who has a great voice but who can’t get along with others, also fails to connect with the voting public, and eventually loses.  It’s not just about you and your talent; it’s about living in the context of a community and relationships, and that’s a whole different ballgame.

4. Only the strong survive.  I feel for the singers who get matched up in group week with people they can’t relate to or with people who don’t want to do their fair share.  That week requires everyone to work hard – all night if needed, and those who slack off tend not to progress to the next round.

5. Never assume you’re safe.  How many singers through the years have been surprisingly eliminated early in the voting, most likely because people didn’t bother to vote for them since they considered them safe?  Assume nothing.

6. Your vote counts.  Or, more accurately this season, your 50 votes count.  If you don’t vote, don’t gripe about the results.  Do your duty and vote if you care about an outcome.

7. Not everyone who judges you is worthy of doing so.  While the four judges this year had sole authority to determine the top twenty, they may or may not have made the right calls.  They may not be representative of what America wants.  They may have hidden agendas and criteria we never hear about that impacts their decisions.  Do I personally really care about anything Nicki Minaj ever thinks or says?  No.  But she’s paid the big bucks to sit there looking dumb and sounding dumber, so whether she is worthy or not isn’t the point now.  Contestants will still be impacted by her comments for good or bad.

8. Give it your all.  When singers play it safe and just blend in with other so-so performances, that doesn’t cut it.  You need to give it your heart and soul and know that you left it all on the stage.  The final results may be in others’ hands, but you can at least know you did your best.  There is great satisfaction in that.

9. Always keep learning and improving.  Whatever your current skill level, there is room for improvement, so do what it takes to learn and grow and reach your goals.

10. Make friends along the way.  Nobody wants to be around others whom they fear would willingly stab them in the back to get ahead.  Don’t be such a person.  Be the one who takes the time to notice and befriend others as you go.  Praise the members of the band.

11. Climbing a ladder isn’t a lifestyle.  There is more to life than just trying to get somewhere else in the future.  It’s about experiencing the present, too.  You climb ladders for a short while so you can do something else at the end of that ladder.  Know when to step off the ladder and do other things.

12. It’s OK not to get the most votes.  If there are 10,000 people trying out and only one can win, does that mean 9,999 are losers?  No!  It just means that the system is set up to give a greater reward to one person.  Many contestants go on to very successful careers without winning the competition.  You get to define success in your life.  Don’t let others do that for you.

13. Fame and fortune comes at a cost.  Some have the personal character, wisdom and right people nearby to handle fame and fortune.  Some give in to its temptations and flame out early.  If you think you’ll be the one making all the calls about what happens with your life at the level of stardom these singers seek, you’re wrong.  There are trade-offs your dreams didn’t envision.

14. Enjoy the ride.  We know that some things can’t last forever.  That’s OK.  Be thankful that it happened as long as it did.

15. Give back.  You didn’t get where you are completely by yourself.  Parents, friends, teachers, even bitter enemies all worked to help shape you into the person you are, as did your own dogged determination.  Others are invested in you with their lives.  Give back to them.

I’m sure I’ve missed some obvious lessons that my fellow American Idol fans can think of.  What are they?  Tell me in a comment.

p.s. – If you haven’t figured it out by now, the lessons above don’t apply just to a singing competition.

Doomsday PreppersThe lesson below is a guest post from my friend, Carla Puckett. She suggested the topic to me recently, but I thought it would be best if she shared her experience directly with my readers. Thanks, Carla, for an excellent lesson! Be sure to check out Carla’s blog at That’s What I’m Thinking.

I hate reality shows. But I watched “Doomsday Preppers” the other night after mistakingly DVRing it instead of a show on the Food Network. I watched the entire episode out of curiosity, and I’m glad I did because I learned something.

The show was about people who believe some mega catastrophe is going to occur – a natural disaster, collapse of the U.S economy, nuclear war, etc. – all of which they believe will lead to civil unrest and martial law – and they are planning and preparing for it by amassing enough food, ammo and other supplies to last them and their families for years. To say that the people on this show were obsessed with their “prepping” doesn’t even come close; all said they spend the majority of a 24-hour day prepping.

I’m all for planning and preparing; as a security consultant, it’s the main part of what I do. I tell people, churches, and other organizations how to plan and prepare for emergencies. I’m sure the people up in the northeast wished someone had taught them the need to plan and prepare for a disaster like Sandy, but I digress. What I teach and tell is not rocket science – it’s common sense. For example, here’s a security and safety tip for you, free of charge: take time to put together an emergency kit for you and the members of your household. Have enough food and water for you all for at least 3 days, and have any needed medications, a first aid kit, battery-powered radio, flashlights with extra batteries, and did I mention water? Make copies of insurance policies and other important documents and keep them in your kit as well. Also add in an extra set of clothes, and some blankets, and don’t forget food for pets. Keep all of these items together in backpacks or a plastic storage bin. You get the picture.

It’s OK to plan and prepare – the Bible tells us repeatedly that we need to. But it’s not OK to become so obsessed with planning and preparing for the future that you don’t have time for today.

Leap year lesson #336: Plan and prepare, but don’t forget the present.

I had the unpleasant realization Saturday that I was already a day late in completing a quiz for a training class I’m halfway through.  Knowing there was no way I could get to it over my busy weekend, I asked for and received permission to complete it today.  That threw off the plans I had for my day off today which was to prepare and rehearse a presentation I’m giving tomorrow.  So much for casual weekends and lazy days off.

So my first order of business today was to review all the previous training sessions that were to be covered on the quiz, and then complete it.  With no thanks to excessive IT security restrictions on my work laptop, I finally (after three hours) had the material I needed to study.  Then I reviewed it and completed the quiz about 7:15 p.m.  Since I had attended all the sessions relevant to the quiz, paying attention and participating, I likely could have completed the quiz successfully without spending as much time prepping as I did.  However, I like to know beyond all doubt that I’m prepared for something.  I was.

After writing this post, I’ll turn to my planned task for the day of prepping and rehearsing a presentation I’m giving tomorrow night.  I’ve presented on the subject before, so it isn’t new material, but it will be organized in a different manner than I’ve presented before.  I always like to rehearse numerous times out loud before a public speaking engagement, so my evening and much of tomorrow will be given to doing so.  I want to know when I stand before those present tomorrow night that I am giving them my best.

When I think back to my January 4 post about my three words, the second word was “stretch” which means I want to do more than what is required of me.  That isn’t just to please others, but to live up to my own expectations and potential.  It can make for long days and hours doing things that I could probably get by with on less effort.  But I would know the difference even if others might not.

Leap year lesson #282 is It’s better to over-prepare.

Even though I was at home on vacation this week, I still had a full agenda of things I wanted to get done.  I didn’t get everything accomplished, but I got much of it done.  In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I’m going to schedule another “staycation” for next month and perhaps the next several months.

One thing I didn’t get done was adequately preparing for the class I teach at church on Sunday mornings.  Part of the reason was because I was giving priority to the out-of-the-ordinary tasks I wanted to accomplish for the week rather than the routine ones, and part of the reason was because the schedule for the end of the week went largely out the window when a family member was admitted to the hospital and we necessarily had to adjust our plans.

By late Saturday night, I had the choice of either staying up into the wee hours of the morning to adequately prep the class, or I had to make the call to have our small group (usually 3-4 people) attend another class instead for the day.  Since I only had about 3 hours sleep Friday night, I decided I shouldn’t do that again Saturday night, so I had my class join another one Sunday morning.  It was the right call.

Not only did the decision allow me to get a few needed hours of sleep, but it gave my tiny class (just me and one other guy today) the enjoyable experience of taking part in a much larger, excellent class that always has great teaching and discussion.  My one student met some new people who welcomed him with open arms and I think he enjoyed the experience.  We may, in fact, plan on doing that once every couple of months just for the different experience.

For me, it was a tough call to make because I didn’t want to feel like I was abandoning my responsibility.  In the end, though, it was good knowing that I could lean on someone else in a time of need and just be thankful for their help.

That brings me to leap year lesson #259: It’s OK to lean on others when needed.

“Am I in Louisville?”  That was the surprising question I was asked tonight by some random guy driving by in a pickup truck while I was out walking my dog.  He stopped near me, called me over and asked the question.  “Yes,” I answered.  Then he asked me how to get to the Greyhound bus station.  I gave him quick instructions that would get him in the general direction about seven miles away where he could then ask someone there for final directions.

As he pulled away, I had to chuckle.  I’ve lived here since 1985 and I don’t think anyone sober or drunk has ever asked me “Am I in Louisville?”  I resisted the urge to mess with his mind and say something like “Dude, you’re in Ohio.”  About a minute later the guy turned his truck around to head the direction I indicated, but had to stop again as he got up to me to verify the instructions I had just given him.  Who knows if he ever made it?  I wouldn’t put money on it.

The lesson that came immediately to mind is leap year lesson #217 – To reach your destination, know your starting point.

My last post was about using your talents and, for me, getting back in the saddle again.  I talked about starting a new class at my church on August 5 after taking a few years off from teaching.

Today the room was prepared.  New supplies were purchased.  Much cleaning was done.  Preparation for the lesson was complete.  Food and drinks were on hand.  The target group had known about the start for more than a month and was reminded last week to be in the new class today.  I was as ready as I could be.

The only problem?  Nobody came.  Nobody, that is, except the good man who has agreed to help me with the class.

Yes, it was disappointing, especially when a couple of people told me afterward that they saw the guys that should have been there hanging around outside the building during the class time.  At least we know where to go look for them next time.

The good news is that we can only go up from here!  Plus my lesson for next week is already prepared.

I knew starting something for this particular target group wouldn’t be easy, and that’s fine.  I don’t have to have easy, but I do have to have participants.

We’ll keep moving forward with the plan.  I still believe we’re doing the right thing.  I may reach out to a few others who are not involved or who are only minimally involved during that time slot elsewhere to join the cause.

The takeaway for me today is to continue to plan, study, prepare and do what I can to make it a good experience for any who choose to come, whether that is one or a hundred.  When it comes to efforts like this, sometimes success can’t be measured by how many participate, but by how faithful you are in making the effort.

Leap year lesson #214 is Do your best regardless of how many will know.

Last evening my wife and I attended a concert that was the culmination of a musical string camp nearby.  One of our friends had a key role in leading some of the groups, so we thought it would be fun to attend.

It was amazing seeing very young children just learning to play violins that couldn’t have been more than 14-16 inches long from one end to the other.  Seeing the stage lined with children and youth performing what they learned during the week was inspiring.  This year’s camp also included handbells, so it was equally impressive to see 31 children filling the stage playing handbells.  The harps were beautiful as only harps can be.

The performances generally went from less experienced to more experienced.  While that coincided largely with age from younger to older, that wasn’t always the case.  Some groups had a surprising age range within them.

While watching the performances, I couldn’t help but draw parallels to learning we all experience.  Those in the most advanced group who performed truly beautiful pieces last night didn’t start with that ability.  At one point they were just like those newer to their instruments.  Because they keep rehearsing, they keep getting better, and if they will continue to work hard, they will continue to improve.

The children I saw last night didn’t seem self-conscious about their ability level or the fact that they were performing in a large chapel with many people watching and cameras rolling.  They just did their best and graciously accepted the applause of the audience.

Unlike the children last night, at times I see adults in work or other settings who think they need to be nearly perfect at something before they are willing to be seen by others doing that task.  Likewise, some people seem to think they are entitled to be in that most advanced group with all the glory it brings even though they haven’t put in the time and effort to earn that right.

To quote a joke older than me, “How do you get to Carnegie Hall?”  The answer: “Practice, practice, practice.”

Leap year lesson #163 is You must start at the beginning.

“Before” photo

I went through one of the most grueling physical experiences I’ve ever attempted yesterday.  Two of my coworkers, their spouses and a friend joined together to form a team to complete the Muddy Fanatic race in Sellersburg, Indiana.  It’s a 5K (3.1 mile) muddy obstacle course on a farm that took us about two hours and twenty minutes to complete.

The course requires you to handle mud pits, ponds, creek beds, crawling through mud & water under barbed wire, mud walls, rope walls, walls with no rope, rope swings, a ginormous hill that seemed like it would never end, hay bales to jump across, deep muddy paths everywhere and occasional blissful stretches of dry path with only the smell of cow manure to taint the momentary relief.  This is not your typical 5K race.  In fact, nobody officially kept time for this – you either finish it or you don’t.  Organizers had to modify one part of the course before our wave of participants took off because of someone breaking an arm on a dangerous mud hill slide that dropped off at the end into a pit.

Before we were even home from the experience, my body was yelling at me “What were you thinking?”  None of us had done any training.  We just up and ran a 20+ obstacle two-hour race on a sunny day with the temp in the high 80s.

“After” photo

By today my body was as sore and spent as I ever remember being, even after running half-marathons of nearly the same length of time.  It took over 24 hours before my mind kicked back into normal (for good or bad) following several hours of napping this afternoon.

So what did I learn from the experience?  I learned that I have some amazing coworkers and friends who are a blast to try something extreme with.  I probably did not learn to not do it again, because I probably will.  And even though the body is spent, the satisfaction of completing it (and being the oldest person I recall seeing on the course) leads me to leap year lesson #133: Exhaustion can hurt so good.

As you might suspect, pulling off an eight-day trip to China takes planning.  There are the logistics of obtaining passport, visa, flights, insurance, hotels, ground transportation, admission and ticket info to various tourist spots, and more.  In our effort to visit churches and take part in services, there was coordination to have participants from multiple churches celebrate with us in one place on days and times they would not normally gather .  We needed to arrange an interpreter to be with us for such visits in order to speak to the congregations.

Such a trip could not happen without adequate planning and I am thankful for the several people involved in those efforts.

At the same time, there was an ongoing need for flexibility.  We did not know, for example, that one church had prepared a dinner for us to eat after their service.  We had other plans, but needed to quickly change them and graciously accept the dinner prepared by our hosts.  When driving to one church, we were a bit surprised to find the road come to a dead end.  We had to turn around and go a different way.

After another service in a rural area, someone suggested a different route back to the city that was about 20 kilometers shorter.  We took that route only to find that it was a dirt road filled with huge potholes.  Our 20-kilometer-shorter trip was suddenly plodding along at 5 miles per hour as we zigzagged down the road that others obviously knew to avoid.  Twenty fewer kilometers doesn’t help if you have to reduce your traveling speed by from 60 to  5 mph.

Flexibility was needed regularly in order to accommodate gracious hosts and to take advantage of conversations that could not possibly be planned in advance.

In business, nonprofit or personal life, we have to make sure that we plan well in order to accomplish our objectives.  But never allowing room for adjustments or last-minute changes is a mistake.  We need to be sensitive to new possibilities – especially interpersonal ones – as they arise, and adjust for unpleasant surprises that will inevitably happen.

Leap year lesson #114 is Find a balance between planning and flexibility.

I went running today with a purpose for the first time in years. It has been three years since I ran in a race. From my mid-40s to my early 50s I ran a number of races, mostly 5k races and a few half marathons. I was involved in college ministry at the time through my church and several of the college guys and I would commit to various races, training together and enjoying the challenge, the trips and the competition. I was the old guy – Ol’ Blue – among the college crowd just like in the movie Old School. I loved every minute of it.

Since my team of four at work decided yesterday to run in the Muddy Fanatic race on May 19, I decided I’d better start training today. Oh, my, do I have work to do!

I couldn’t begin to make it the whole route of a little over 3.5 miles without way too many 30-second walk breaks. My legs will yell at me tomorrow, no doubt. My time was atrocious compared to my last 5k race.

So what do I take away from today’s run? Does my performance mean that I should hang it up because I’m not good at that any more? Should I expect to suddenly run at a pace that I ran at years ago even though I have not trained? The answer to both questions is “no.”

Previous success does not guarantee future success at any task, especially if you fail to practice and keep your skills up to date. I knew I would have a terrible average pace per mile today, but that’s OK. Today is the benchmark. Running is always primarily a race against yourself and your best times more than it is against others – at least for me it is.

So here’s to whatever May 19 brings and the fact that my performance then will be better because of the training I put myself through over the next 5-6 weeks. Running races years ago isn’t what will make May 19 a success. It’s what I do between now and then to prepare that will make the difference.

Leap year lesson #95 is Past success does not guarantee future success.